The Wages of Sin: A Kidnap, a Crucifixion, a Murderer on the Loose

by Inge Löhnig

  ‘What?’

  ‘Have you completely forgotten what you did on that horrible day?’

  Agnes’s heart began to race. Panic welled up inside her. ‘Out!’ she heard herself screaming. She jumped up.

  ‘No,’ Kathrin said calmly. ‘I won’t go. Not yet. In five minutes, maybe. If you still want me to. If our friendship is important to you, then you’ll answer this question for me. Do you remember what you did on that horrible day?’

  Agnes’s knees gave way. She sat down. What had she done on that unfortunate day? ‘I was at your house. We drank a bottle of wine.’

  ‘Correct,’ Kathrin said. ‘And why did we drink it?’

  Why had they drunk the wine? But I want to! I want to, I want to, I want to! Yvonne had angrily stamped her foot. She wanted to come along, but I didn’t take her, Agnes thought. ‘I left Yvonne with Rainer,’ she said flatly. The lump felt tight in her throat. ‘If I had taken her with me, she would still be alive. It’s my fault. If I had just taken her with me.’

  ‘It’s not your fault,’ Kathrin said. ‘Don’t talk yourself into that. It was a terrible accident. There’s nothing you can do about it.’ She pulled a tissue out of her handbag and handed it to Agnes, who’d only just noticed that she was crying.

  ‘And do you remember why you didn’t bring Yvonne along?’ Kathrin asked.

  Suddenly, Agnes saw the flat in front of her: two tiny empty rooms, an opened lattice window looking out onto a barren back yard, a pocket-sized kitchen, a dented gas stove. She had visited the flat with Kathrin and Werner. Two rooms in a pre-war building on Pariser Square. ‘Oh, God.’ Agnes groaned.

  ‘Werner had found a flat for you. We went to see it in the afternoon. You wanted to leave Rainer. If the accident hadn’t happened, you would have signed the contract the following day. You’ve suppressed all that.’

  Agnes sat at the table, stunned. For the past year, she had choked down those memories.

  ‘You wanted to start working again and Rainer forbade it. When you told him about your interview at Niehaus & Partners, he hit you.’

  The images rose up out of the darkest chambers of her memory and stepped out into the bright light. Rainer’s face twisted in anger. The hard swing that had split her eyebrow. Blood running down her face. The clenched fist that hit her in the stomach. Her vomit on the carpet. The carpet pile in her mouth. The black shoes on his feet as they kicked her. Yvonne, sleepily standing in the doorway, squeezing the stuffed bunny tight. Her eyes wide with shock. It was in that split second that Agnes made the decision to leave Rainer.

  ‘You hid it all away really well,’ Kathrin said. ‘But that won’t help you any more. Take off the rose-coloured glasses. Rainer controlled you. You weren’t allowed to see who you wanted to see, you weren’t allowed to wear the clothes you wanted to wear, you weren’t allowed to wear make-up. He was pathologically jealous.’

  ‘You’re exaggerating.’ That sounded weak. ‘In retrospect, maybe I see it somewhat differently than I did back then,’ she said. Suddenly, she felt sick. She jumped up but only made it into the kitchen. She choked her breakfast out into the sink.

  Kathrin came up behind her, put her arm round her shoulders and held her. ‘That’s good. Puke it all out,’ she said. ‘Knock Rainer off that pedestal you’ve built for him. He doesn’t deserve it.’

  * * *

  When Agnes was feeling better, they went for a walk in the forest. She told Kathrin about her new neighbour Melli, about the wedding and about Franz’s accident. Melli had big problems at the moment. Mourning Franz came with other life problems. They had taken out a mortgage to renovate the cottage. Melli’s income wasn’t enough to pay off the bank loan.

  ‘See, Rainer did at least act responsibly in that regard,’ Agnes said.

  Kathrin sighed and frowned. ‘Face facts. Considering the enormous number of assets he had, he left you with crumbs. He even sold his company shares to his partner. If you ask me, the two of them had a deal. After the divorce, Rainer would be able to buy his shares back for the same bargain price. And who would have been left empty-handed?’

  ‘If that had happened, I wouldn’t have been able to buy the house,’ Agnes said angrily. Why didn’t Kathrin ever know when to keep her mouth shut?

  ‘He had probably forgotten about the life insurance or could no longer change the beneficiary. I found all that very strange anyway.’ Kathrin suddenly went silent.

  ‘What did you find strange?’ Agnes asked.

  Kathrin shrugged. ‘Nothing, forget it.’ She took long strides down the forest path, as if she were suddenly running from something. The conversation petered out. For a while, the only sound came from their footsteps and the rustling of leaves in the wind.

  Agnes wondered how she could have forgotten that she’d planned to leave Rainer. How could you forget something like that? Was it normal to remember only the good things? ‘Rainer was such a kind person. Most of the time, at least,’ she said.

  ‘It was like Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde,’ Kathrin replied.

  ‘He was so romantic. Have I told you about how he pulled together that dinner at the English Garden?’

  ‘A hundred times. A luxurious picnic in the park. Countless candles reflected in the lake. He recited one of Cyrano de Bergerac’s letters and took your heart by storm. Or so he thought,’ Kathrin said. ‘Apparently, he was the only one who didn’t know that he could have plucked your heart like a ripe plum. And besides, they weren’t his words anyway. He borrowed them.’

  For God’s sake, did Kathrin have to pull Rainer entirely to pieces? ‘What is that supposed to mean?’ Agnes asked, irritated.

  ‘He had it all worked out. He knew he could win you over with that. He knew your weakness for poetry.’ Kathrin stopped and took a breath. ‘Don’t be mad at me for what I’m about to say. Rainer was in our circle long enough. I think I’m a reasonable judge.’

  Agnes wondered what was coming. All of a sudden, she felt like she had been sucked dry.

  ‘Rainer had a set idea. He wanted an ideal family. A faithful, devoted wife and a few well-behaved children. That was understandable, when you think about the type of childhood he had. He longed for a family that wouldn’t split up. Do you remember his ex-girlfriends?’

  Agnes remembered them well. She had been jealous of every one. But he had never held on to those relationships for long.

  ‘Did it never occur to you that they all broke up with him? It was never the other way round.’

  Agnes wanted to object, but Kathrin was right.

  ‘They were attractive, confident, successful women who knew what they wanted. And what they wanted was certainly not some macho guy.’

  ‘What are you getting at?’ Agnes asked. She felt totally wrung out and had an idea of what Kathrin was about to say next. She had already had such thoughts herself.

  ‘He chose you. He wanted to start his perfect family. Confidence was not one of your strengths at the time. Except when it came to your career. That always surprised me. You were so tough about that. But in your private life, you were such a mouse. So insecure and scared of everything. You were really unhappy back then.’

  Agnes remembered that summer. A brief relationship had fallen to pieces. And Rainer had been her dream man, but he never seemed to notice her. ‘So you think that Rainer was looking for an ugly, naive woman. One who would gratefully fulfil his wishes and never leave him.’

  ‘You were never ugly. You were just a bit podgy. And nor were you naive. You were blinded by love, as they say. And you both had a common goal: a family.’

  Kathrin had voiced what Agnes had felt for a long time. From long before she had decided to leave Rainer. Even that feeling, she had pushed away.

  ‘If you’re honest, Agnes, you have to admit that Rainer had you under his thumb. Sure, he had his charming side. He could anticipate your wishes. You went on beautiful, romantic trips. He idolised you in a way that always seemed creepy to me. But if something didn’t go his way, he
flipped out. He hit you and acted like your jailer. And he was extremely jealous.’

  ‘You never said anything,’ Agnes said.

  ‘That’s not entirely true. I made several attempts, but they seemed to fall on deaf ears. And you seemed happy. So I couldn’t intervene as I would have liked. You had the man of your dreams, even if I could never understand what you saw in him. You both wanted a family and children. And then came Yvonne. Everything was perfect. At least, that’s how you made it seem. When you neglected our friendship, I thought it was because having a child was so demanding, that Rainer was more important and that I needed to take a back seat. It was only after he beat you up that you came out with the truth.’

  Yes, everything had been perfect. She’d felt lucky to have got what she wanted and that made everything else seem inconsequential. In the beginning, she had hardly noticed how Rainer’s rules restricted her life. Now he was dead, and in her deep grieving for him and her child, she had forgotten that she had wanted to leave him. How had it come to this?

  * * *

  Kathrin left in the early afternoon and Agnes set about designing the first layout option for Anselm’s book. She didn’t stop working until her shoulders were tense and her eyes were strained from staring at the monitor.

  Dinner or a jog? she asked herself, massaging her neck muscles. Maybe a swim would be better, but it was already too late for that. Just after eight. It was already dusk. Agnes was on her way upstairs when the doorbell rang. It had to be Melli. But instead it was Melli’s mother who she found standing on her front doorstep. Her cheeks were red and blotchy and she looked frantic.

  ‘Is Melli here?’ she asked.

  ‘No,’ Agnes said. ‘Wasn’t she going to drive into Munich this afternoon? To that therapist?’

  ‘That was hours ago. Her handbag is in the house, so she must have come home from therapy. I’ve looked everywhere for her.’

  Melli isn’t a little kid, Agnes thought. ‘Maybe she went for a walk.’ That seemed most likely.

  ‘But she knows that I will have cooked, otherwise she doesn’t eat. I’ve been waiting for an hour. She is always on time.’ Melli’s mother twisted her hands together, as if that would help support her. ‘I know you think I’m acting as if Melli’s three years old. But since Franz’s accident . . .’ She raised her shoulders. ‘I should go home.’

  Agnes remembered how her mother used to worry about her when she went wandering aimlessly around Munich with no concept of time. ‘Melli’s probably just gone for a walk by the lake. I’m sure she’ll be home soon.’

  ‘Yes, you’re probably right.’ Melli’s mother said goodbye and left.

  Agnes watched her leave and then she put on her jogging clothes and ran down a dirt track towards the village. As a mother, you always worry about your child, she thought, perhaps even after your child has grown up. Maybe it never goes away. But she wouldn’t experience that.

  A thousand thoughts swirled around in her head as she tried to find her running rhythm. If I hadn’t wanted to leave Rainer, then I wouldn’t have looked at the flat and I wouldn’t have got started on the move with Kathrin. I would have been at home. Then maybe I could have done something or I would also have been killed in the fire. It’s my fault. If only I’d taken Yvonne with me. Yvonne had angrily stamped her foot as Agnes gave her a goodnight kiss. She absolutely wanted to go and see Kathrin. But I want to! I want to, I want to, I want to! she had shouted defiantly. That was Agnes’s last memory of her daughter.

  It’s my fault, she thought again, whatever Kathrin says. And then Agnes stopped and exhaled, panting. Her husband had controlled her and beaten her up; she’d had good cause to want to leave him. And there had been no reason to take Yvonne along. It was evening time, the child belonged in bed. If anyone was to blame for the disaster, it was the person who’d done such a sloppy job of laying the electric cable, Agnes thought. Not me, in any case! Not me! Not me.

  ‘Not me,’ she said into the darkness on the edge of a potato field on a hill overlooking Mariaseeon. Then she went home.

  * * *

  After she’d showered and had dinner, she sat in her living room in the dark. There was just a dim glow from the light in the kitchen. She looked at the shadowy silhouettes of the trees and gazed at the full moon’s reflection on the surface of the lake. The silence enveloped her. Her thoughts wandered. She thought about Rainer, whose unpleasant traits she had completely blocked out. She had made her world more beautiful than it was. Why had she only realised how much she was suffering under his rule when he beat her up? How had she forgotten about wanting to split up? How was it possible to forget all of that? Agnes knew the answer: whenever her memories moved in that direction, she fled; she ran from her guilt. Every time the subject came up, she stubbornly interrupted her parents, and she’d even cut off contact with her best friend. All of that to avoid the guilt. Maybe I need therapy too, Agnes thought. The ringing doorbell seemed extra loud amid the silence. Agnes was startled.

  Melli’s mother was at the door again. She was close to tears. Melli seemed to have disappeared without a trace.

  The night air was warm and the moon was full in the sky. Perhaps Melli had been reliving her memories of Franz. ‘She’s probably on the boardwalk platform at the lake and has lost track of time,’ Agnes said. She felt sorry for Melli’s mother. ‘Doesn’t she have her mobile with her?’

  Melli’s mother shook her head. ‘It’s on the kitchen table.’

  Agnes heard the shrill undertone in her voice. ‘I can cycle over to the boardwalk and get her,’ she said, without giving it too much thought.

  ‘Would you mind? My husband is at a seminar and won’t be back until tomorrow, or else I would ask him. That’s very kind of you. But aren’t you afraid?’

  Agnes wasn’t afraid of the dark. ‘I’ll go,’ she said resolutely. She got her bike lights from the garage and attached them to the mountain bike.

  Agnes took the lakeside track and then turned into the forest. Moths and insects danced in the beam from her light as it bounced over roots and potholes. In the darkness, the forest looked different. The tree trunks faded into the coal-coloured night like black columns. The light was not very strong, so Agnes could only see small, constantly changing cut-outs. It made it difficult to get her bearings and she nearly missed the turnoff at the reed beds. The track grew narrower. Agnes kept an eye out for the trail left by Melli’s frequent visits, which had to start somewhere nearby. When she finally found it, she leaned her bicycle against a tree and called out for her friend. But the night remained still and silent. She heard a frog croaking and the rustling of the reeds in the wind. If Melli were sitting on the platform at the end of the boardwalk, she might not be able to hear her calling. Agnes took the light off her bike and followed the trail, pointing the beam at her feet as she went. She reached the boardwalk and walked along the wobbly planks to the platform.

  But Melli wasn’t there. Keeping her eyes fixed on the dimly lit trail, Agnes walked back. Trampled grass, bent stalks of veronica, a small island of marsh marigolds and indistinct footprints in the muddy ground appeared in the light, only to disappear back into the darkness with the next step. Just before reaching her bicycle, she noticed a spot where the grass had been trampled flat over a large area and there were footprints that looked as if a Dervish had performed his dance there. Her eyes stopped at a yellow marsh marigold. It had reddish-brown specks on it. It looks like blood, Agnes thought, taking a closer look at the plant. There were also spots on the green leaves. ‘Nonsense,’ she said softly into the silence. The plant probably had some sort of blight. Something sparkled beside it. Agnes picked it up. It was a wedding ring. It felt heavy in her hand. An engraving was carved on the inside. In the glow of the bike light, Agnes read a name. After that she didn’t dare call out for Melli.

  * * *

  Gina had suggested that they go for a drink after work. Dühnfort sat with her over a glass of wine outside Gandl, a restaurant on St A
nna Square. It was a warm evening and all of the tables were occupied. Alois had left five minutes earlier. His son was coming for a weekend visit tomorrow and he still had to put together the bed that he’d bought the day before. Relaxed, Dühnfort leaned back and looked at the full moon. When he lowered his eyes, he saw Gina looking at him and smiling. He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  ‘I was afraid you were going to start howling at the moon.’

  ‘Should I?’

  ‘Well, that’s what lone wolves do.’ She tilted her head to the side and looked at him with her chocolate eyes.

  So, she takes me for a lone wolf, Dühnfort thought. What does that say about me? Again, he noticed that Gina looked different and much more feminine now that she’d stopped wearing cargo trousers all the time. She was wearing a pale blue cotton jumper that perfectly complemented her dark hair and eyes, and a loose skirt in a light floral print that ended just above her knees and drew Dühnfort’s attention to her suntanned legs. When he looked up again, he saw that she’d been watching him.

  ‘The new look is really working for you,’ he said. ‘Would it be indiscreet if I were to ask whether there’s a new man in the picture?’

  ‘No, of course not,’ she said and smiled at him.

  What does that mean? he wondered. Of course it’s not indiscreet or of course no new boyfriend? His mobile began to ring. He pulled it out of his pocket. Probably not a new man, otherwise she would have arranged something better for a Friday night than sitting around here with me, he thought and answered the call.

  ‘Hello, Tino, this is Agnes.’ She sounded out of breath. ‘Melli’s gone. I think she’s been kidnapped.’

  ‘Who’s Melli?’

  ‘My neighbour. Jakob’s teacher. She’s disappeared. I went looking for her at her favourite spot near the lake and I found her husband’s wedding ring. He died in an accident last week. Melli’s been wearing the ring ever since and now it’s by the lake and it looks as if there was a fight. I think there’s blood on a flower.’