His mission had succeeded on all fronts. He had made no technical mistakes, and the one witness had not given him away. Or, wait, he actually didn’t know that for sure. But it didn’t matter; he felt more powerful knowing that even with a witness, he managed to get away with it. He smiled at the thought. Losing his virginity had set him free. After that heavenly experience he couldn’t understand how he had managed to live like a monk for so long. He began to prepare his second time about three months later. While he worked out his next plan to the last detail, he knew that the first real opportunity to execute it would be around Easter. The start of the summer season. When that opportunity came, he had acted immediately. The urge to fulfill his lust was far greater than his own self-control. Thankfully, he had prepared everything perfectly again.
He pushed his desk chair back and stood up. It was time to start preparing for the next one. Spring break was right around the corner. He was certain now. His addiction screamed for more. The time of waiting was over. Soon he would strike again.
32
Hans raised his glass and said, “Cheers! To Niels, our brave boy.”
Petra tapped his glass with hers. “I’ll toast to that!”
Niels held up his bowl of ice cream to participate in the toast.
“What a day,” Hans continued. “It’s still a little surreal to be back here, but in a way, it’s good to combine the pleasant with the unpleasant.”
He took a sip of his wine and looked around. Arturo, the undercover policeman who had accompanied them here, was also eating somewhere. Full protection had been an absolute condition for coming back here, but detective Martuccia had agreed immediately and had even insisted that they would do everything they could to make their stay as safe as possible.
When they contacted the Italian police, Martuccia had urged them to travel to Italy as soon as possible. They had taken some time to think about that. Did they really want to do that? Return to the place where Niels had experienced such a big trauma? Moreover, there was the possibility that the murderer was still there, walking around freely. Could they take that risk? How could they combine their sense of responsibility to their child and to society? How great was the risk that something would happen to them? Or that Niels would end up even more damaged by returning to this place? And what would their role be in this investigation? Could they prevent more murders from happening? Could they live with themselves if they didn’t take that responsibility?
The next day all three of them stayed home. The school was informed that Niels didn’t feel well and their colleagues made it possible for them not to have to come to work. Niels had been quite defensive about the idea. As far as he was concerned, he had told his story, and he was going to talk to Irene about it. He didn’t even want to think about returning to Lake Garda. What if that killer was still there?! Why couldn’t he just answer all those questions from home? Wasn’t that what they had phones and Internet for? They had understood his reaction completely and decided to speak to the Dutch police and Irene first. Besides the Italian police, everyone else also advised them to go, as long as they were protected and assisted properly. Irene even believed that the whole confrontation might actually do Niels some good because he had a tendency to repress everything. She didn’t give this advice often, but a guided confrontation could help him get over his fears in this case. This had already happened when they received the news of the second murder, but returning to the scene of the crime was obviously a different story. When all of their conditions were met by the Italian police, they explained to Niels in the best way possible that this was the best thing to do for everyone involved. That this would really help the parents of both boys and that instead of always feeling scared, he would feel brave from now on. That it was very possible that they would catch the killer and that he was the only one who could recognize him. They promised him that they wouldn’t lose sight of him for even one second and that they would return home again as soon as they could.
Martuccia had made it very clear to them that it was of great importance that they came as soon as possible.
This morning they had gotten on the first flight to Milan, where they were met by a black car with tinted windows. The driver took them straight to Verona. It felt very reassuring to them that no one could see them. Although Niels was still quite nervous, he also seemed to find it a big adventure.
Fortunately, they were welcomed by familiar faces: Detectives Carlo Martuccia and Filippo Tardelli and the Dutch interpreter Karin Goudsbloem.
They really gave Niels the feeling that he was very important and that they were very grateful to him for offering to help them. They would never forget it.
Niels had taken it all in stride. He seemed to become braver by the minute. This time, he didn’t crawl back into his shell while he told his story.
After the interview, food was brought in. Everyone made sure that all the Kolwijns’ needs were taken care of. The mood remained good after a police sketch-artist joined the group. It was an exciting moment. It was also a little bit scary, because Niels wasn’t sure if he could give a good description and was a little afraid of seeing that frightening face on the paper in front of him. But they took their time and encouraged him to give the artist as many details as possible. By the end of the afternoon, they had a face on paper that, according to Niels, resembled the face of Mats’s murderer quite well.
Before they left, the detectives had taken Hans and Petra aside for a moment. They apologized for the trip’s inconvenience and reassured them that if they had any needs or questions they should not to waste a single second and just let them know. They were Italy’s honorary guests, and they would do whatever was needed to make their stay as pleasant as possible.
They also explained, once again, why they had insisted that they all come to Italy as soon as possible. It was incredibly important that every single clue be taken under the loop. They admitted that their contact with the other European police agencies was excellent. But in this very special case, they simply couldn’t risk any mistakes being made. So, therefore, it was very important that they interview Niels themselves, as he was the one and only witness, and to have their own sketch artist do the composite drawing. Sometimes it was the smallest of details that solved a case, so they wanted to stay right on top of it. Then they shook hands and left.
Hans and Petra agreed that they would stay around for a few more days and that they would stay in contact daily. The police finally had something to go on, and so it would be better if Niels remained in the area, in case it came down to having to identify the killer. Everyone agreed.
Fifteen minutes after they left the police station they were dropped off in front of Hotel La Ninfa. The hotel was on the two-way street that ran between Verona and Peschiera. It was a middle-class hotel with five floors where the Italian Justice Department had booked a room for them. Their temporary home was room number 38 on the third floor. It was a spacious room with a fridge, TV, a double bed, and a single bed for Niels.
After consulting with the police officer who accompanied them, they decided to go and eat something in Peschiera that evening. They hotel was safer, but it also made them somewhat claustrophobic. A little distraction would do them some good.
Hans had felt a real sense of relief when they left the hotel. During the quiet moments on the flight and in the hotel room, he kept being confronted with the fact that he had sent an innocent man to his death. Not intentionally, and obviously he hadn’t known that the homeless man was innocent at that moment, but the fact remained that he chased the man to his death. Only some serious distraction could quiet the angry and accusing voices in his head now. They had also taken Hans aside today after their talk with Niels and explained to him what the consequences could be if this story came out. He could be charged, but they would do everything in their power to prevent that from happening. Better yet, because of his cooperation in solving this case now, it would probably never go that far. Hans didn’t feel very reassured and r
emembered his nightmares. The fear he felt in his dreams wasn’t all that far from the truth. But he had to trust in the police. It would all work out somehow.
“I think it’s quite busy here for this time of the year,” Petra said. “You only expect to see this many people here during the high season.”
Hans glanced across the long rows of people seated at their tables. The restaurant had even turned on the patio heater, as it had cooled down quite a bit at night. Because of the excellent street lighting and the display lighting in the shops, which were almost all still open, the visibility was nearly as good as it would be in broad daylight.
“Now that you mention it: the streets are jam-packed. I can’t reiterate it enough, how surreal it feels to sit here now.” He placed his hand on Niels’s shoulder. “What impressed you the most today? The black car and tinted windows?”
Niels shook his head. “That car was really cool. As if you’re a very important person. But I wouldn’t want to drive in it every day. I thought that the man who made the drawing was really amazing,” Niels continued. “It was really awesome that he could draw exactly what I had in my mind, or that he could change it with some small details and make it even better. It was like he had seen the man himself.”
Hans nodded. “I looked at it with pure amazement, too. How he could change something with just one line or accentuate it. Really brilliant.”
Petra grabbed a napkin from the table and leaned forward and wiped some ice cream from Niels’s T-shirt. He didn’t move and looked down.
“You couldn’t see it,” Petra clarified. “It was right at the edge of your collar, right below you chin.”
“Is it bad?”
Petra shook her head. “You can barely see it. Besides, tomorrow you’ll just put on another one. I brought plenty of them.”
Slightly embarrassed that his mother had cleaned him up like he was a toddler, Niels looked around. Suddenly, his face lost all its color and his eyes widened while he stared straight ahead, as if he saw a ghost.
“Okay, all done. Anyone want some more water? Niels?” Petra asked. Only then did she see his face. “Niels, honey, what’s wrong … ?”
“That’s him!” he said, his voice breaking. He pointed in the crowd. “There he goes!”
33
Hans stood up. It was an uncontrolled movement and his thigh slammed against the side of the table, sending the glasses flying through the air, landing somewhere between the other guests. In an attempt not to lose a single second, he made another clumsy move that almost made him lose his balance.
The irritated crowd grumbled around them. His father’s fumbling went completely unnoticed by Niels. He grabbed his mother’s arm. “There he goes!”
Hans could see that a man was making his way through the crowd. Slowly but surely he was increasing in speed and the distance between them became greater.
Hans didn’t waste a moment and pushed his way through the crowd of people who were all avoiding the broken glass and red wine on the ground.
“Stay here,” he called out over his shoulder. Petra needed to try to calm down Niels. But he was going to get this bastard, once and for all.
He was beginning to gain speed and zigzagged through the crowd. Not an easy task and one that earned him a lot of angry comments. He didn’t care, he barely noticed.
A family with small children blocked his way. He didn’t hesitate for a moment, turned around, and put his hand next to his mouth to amplify the sound. “Call Carlo and Arturo!” he yelled in Petra’s direction. She heard him, because she raised her hand.
He walked around the family and sped up again. The small street, filled with so many people, caused him quite a delay, but not only him. Thankfully, he could see that the white shirt was now almost standing still in the crowd.
Stay there, he thought. Just give me a little more time, and I’ve got you, asshole. And once I get you in my hands, I will never let you go again.
He balled his fist when the man somehow found an opening in the crowd and made his way through. The distance between them grew again.
Now he also reached the same point where the crowd was very thick. He tried to maintain his speed as his eyes searched for an opening. When two fat men suddenly took a step back, he found it. Even though people were packed in around tables and various displays on the left side of the small street, the right side of the street seemed reasonably open. He could see children with their mothers, mesmerized by something in the window of the toy store.
He shot right past the women and children. He barely slowed down and could feel how he almost clipped a storefront. Suddenly a table with small moving toy soldiers appeared in front of him. He slammed right into it and on his way down he hit a man watching the toy display with his son. The man lost his balance, fell backward, and landed in the crowd behind him.
Hans shook his head in a daze. It had been a pretty hard blow. His right shoulder hurt and without even having to look he could feel that his body was covered in scrape wounds. It didn’t matter. He had to continue. This was just a small delay; he couldn’t let anything stand in his way.
When he got back up, a man placed his hand on his shoulder. Besides this pushy guy he could see more men shuffling toward him. Apparently, they weren’t very happy about his actions and were coming to address him.
“Let me go!” he said sternly. He shoved the hand off his shoulder, turned around, and sprinted away, leaving the angry crowd behind him.
Much to his relief, he could see that the distance between them hadn’t increased all that much. He could still see the man, which was the most important thing. He had to avoid one more display on the street but this time he made sure to watch out. Suddenly the man was gone. Hans kept running. When he reached an intersection, he slowed down and looked left and right. There! The man had gone left; now he understood how he had lost sight of him. This street was just as narrow as the last one. Because of his speed, colliding with others was unavoidable. He showed no mercy to adults, but tried to avoid any children at all cost.
“Stop that man!” he screamed at the crowd.
“Please, stop that man! He is a criminal!”
There was a turn to the right in the street. Again, he lost the man for a brief moment. Like a bat out of hell, he kept on running, shoving his way through the crowd as he reached the turn.
“No!” his scream frightened a few of the people passing by. To his disappointment, the street changed into a zigzag pattern, making it almost impossible to keep track of the man, meaning he would have to improvise from here on. He started running again and kept looking for a glimpse of the man.
The street seemed endless. A few minutes later he reached its end point. It was a T-section, leaving two possible options. He looked to his left and to his right, but saw nothing.
The man had escaped. He had failed.
He put his back against a stone wall and slumped down on his knees. Only now did he feel how tired he was. The parts of his body that had been hit suddenly began to protest. He moved his hand over his right arm, brought his fingers to his mouth, and tasted blood. Obviously, it was a little more than a scrape wound. Though it didn’t matter to him very much. Many thoughts were shooting through his brain. The shame of having failed, wondering whether he should have gone after him alone to begin with—he should have left it to Arturo. Had Petra reached Martuccia? Did the police come into action already? He should call her. He needed to let her know how and where he was.
His fingers moved down to his breast pocket, searching for his phone, but he didn’t feel it. Shocked, he pulled on his shirt, almost causing the pocket to rip from his shirt completely. The pocket was empty. He had lost his phone on the way, most probably during his fall. He put his hands on his head and his chin sank to his chest. “Oh, no. Not the phone too. What a disaster. I’m such a schmuck.”
While drowning in his own misery and trying to prop himself up so he could walk back, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Arturo and a police offic
er in uniform stood before him.
“What took you guys so long?” he said in English and got up, clearly disappointed.
34
Hans grimaced from the pain as the doctor put the stitches in his upper arm. “I thought it was no big deal, but this hurts pretty badly.”
Petra gave him a wink. “Be brave now, darling. This is what happens when you try to be a hero.”
Hans grunted. “Some hero I am.”
“At least you tried, Dad,” Niels said, consoling him and suddenly sounding very mature. “Too bad you didn’t catch him.”
Hans mumbled something and looked around. After the fiasco in Peschiera, they had gone directly to the police station in Verona, at the request of Detective Martuccia. When they got there they were met by a female police officer, put in this office, and were told that Martuccia and a doctor would get there as soon as possible. The doctor came first, started looking Hans over right away, and began stitching him up.
The door opened. Followed closely by Tardelli, Martuccia entered. Karin wasn’t with them, though they had expected her to be there. Her presence was especially calming for Niels. But they could manage to speak English with the detectives.
Martuccia and Tardelli nodded at them and each pulled up a chair. They didn’t look very happy. Martuccia asked the doctor something in Italian, and he answered quickly.
“The doctor tells me that you have some cuts and bruises, but nothing serious. At least not anything he can see on the surface. Maybe later you should have an X-ray.”
Bella Italia Page 13
