“At least he’s in custody.”
“Didn’t you hear? Böhm was released today—he posted bail. But he supposedly doesn’t pose a risk of absconding. No idea how he got the money.”
“Damn it,” Hannes said. “We couldn’t hold him for longer?”
“Marcel tried, but there wasn’t enough evidence against him. How far did you get with the phone list?”
Hannes picked up his pace as he approached the movie theater. Elke and Ben would surely be waiting impatiently. He quickly filled Clarissa in about the phone calls and running into Mr. Beck, then they agreed to divide up the remaining calls on Saturday morning. Clarissa and Isabelle would meet at the station, while Hannes would make his calls on his way to his boat-safety course.
“Catch all the murderers?” Ben teased when Hannes finally arrived. He was forty minutes late, and the movie was half over. Elke had chosen a French-German comedy.
“I’m really sorry.” Hannes looked around. “I hope Elke’s inside watching the movie, otherwise she’ll kill me.”
“Don’t worry, she canceled, which is why I’ve taken the liberty of making a last-minute change to our viewing program. And fortunately for us, the movie doesn’t start for another five minutes. If we hurry, we can catch the previews.”
“Is Elke sick?” Hannes asked as he followed Ben into the small lobby.
“No, she found something better to do. Apparently, you inspired her at our pasta dinner. She really is full of surprises.” They got in line to buy drinks and popcorn. “Elke took a look at the group’s website and wants to join. She’s going to tonight’s meeting to see if it’s for her.”
Hannes stared at him in shock. “New Way? You’re joking, right?”
“No. She told me earlier. She’s been looking for something like this for a long time, and maybe she’ll fit in there.”
“I think it’s a very bad idea,” Hannes said.
“Oh, stop.” Ben laughed. “If anyone can take care of themselves, it’s Elke.”
“Well, I don’t know,” Hannes said and looked at the ticket Ben handed him. The movie couldn’t be more different than Elke’s choice: an adventure drama, in which a former drug-addicted woman spends three months crossing the Rocky Mountains on a trip of self-discovery. Hannes immediately thought of Anna and her journey through Southeast Asia. While they looked for their seats, armed with popcorn and two bottles of beer, he told Ben about their reunion.
“Too bad you ended the evening at the taxi stand,” Ben said, his mouth full of popcorn. “But at least it was a good start. When are you seeing her again?”
“Tomorrow night at her place,” Hannes said. “After my boat course. So no taxi stand this time.”
“Just make sure you take a shower before you show up,” Ben said and laughed as the theater plunged into darkness. The movie was starting.
CHAPTER 16
November smiled on the budding sea captain that Saturday. Though the strong wind promised to create a few whitecaps, the sun was shining brightly in the cloudless sky. Hannes had intended to head straight home after the movie, but his resistance to Ben’s entreaties had been halfhearted at best. So Friday night had lasted a little longer than expected. At such times Hannes envied his friend’s carefree life. Ben had little ambition to finish his degree in history and instead dedicated himself to anti-Nazi causes—which had gotten him beat up more than once by the opposing side.
Hannes studied the list of New Way members at the breakfast table and called Isabelle. As expected, she was easier on him in divvying up the remaining calls than Clarissa presumably would have been. His opinion of her grew.
“We can handle most of them since we’re at the station anyway,” Isabelle said. “How many calls are there?”
There were twenty left. Isabelle and Clarissa each took eight. Hannes dialed the first of his four numbers after exiting the underground parking garage in his decrepit Ford. It quickly became apparent that the call would lead nowhere. He spoke to the bedridden Mrs. Schlichter; Mr. Beck had visited her the previous day. Not surprisingly, given the limited excitement in her life, she seemed quite happy to get an unexpected call. Hannes was halfway to the port when he was finally able to hang up. The next interviewee had nothing unusual to report.
The last two names on the list belonged to a married couple, Bernd and Bettina Graf. After more than several rings, an unfriendly male answered.
“Were there incidents? Why don’t you take a look at that police computer of yours? But you probably won’t find much. So far the investigations have turned up nothing.”
“What happened?” Hannes asked.
“A few weeks ago on October 2, our house was set on fire. Luckily, we were visiting my in-laws, so neither of us was hurt. It happened early in the morning. We probably would have burned to death.”
Hannes pulled over. This interview deserved his undivided attention. After all, it was the first incident in which lives had actually been at stake.
“Are you sure it was arson?”
“Yes. Your colleagues initially assumed it was an accident. Listen, we own several apartment buildings and know a thing or two about fire prevention. We followed all safety precautions. Then, they discovered traces of an accelerant. They made it sound like they were accusing us of insurance fraud, like we set our own house on fire.”
“We have to investigate every angle,” Hannes said. “It happens sometimes.”
“What investigation? So far, there’s been no lead on who might have burned down our house. We’ve been living at a hotel for weeks and won’t be able to move back in until Christmastime.”
It was clear this incident needed to be pursued in greater detail. Hannes relayed the information to Isabelle and asked her to find out more about the arson case. It didn’t take her long—she called him back just as he arrived at the small port.
“Neighbors called the fire department at four o’clock in the morning. They always sleep with the window open and were woken up by the smell. The fire department estimates that the blaze was started about half an hour before that. It intensified very quickly. The building sustained significant damage and is uninhabitable.”
“Was it definitely arson?”
“No doubt about it. Several Molotov cocktails were lobbed through the windows. The fire marshal found the remains.”
“Is there a suspect?”
“No one definite. The investigation’s ongoing. Apparently, the couple hasn’t made very many friends recently. They own several old buildings and have been carrying out luxury renovations so they can jack up the rent. Several tenants have complained that the Grafs either pressured them or forced them to leave. Some have hired a lawyer.”
“Do the Grafs make a lot from their properties?”
“Mrs. Graf has a full-time assistant to help her manage the properties. Mr. Graf runs a software company that created New Way’s website as probably some kind of donation.”
“I’m surprised the couple even belongs,” Hannes said, stunned. “Their behavior doesn’t seem to be all that in tune with New Way’s principles.”
“They’re only moderately active. But according to Mr. Lück, they’ve been giving larger and larger donations. Without their support, they wouldn’t be able to host many of their activities. Either the Grafs have two sides to them or they see the donations like bribes.”
“Did you learn of any other incidents? I’m through with my list, and except for the house fire, I’ve got nothing.”
“Nothing here, but we still have eleven more people. I’ll talk to you later.”
Hannes parked beside a battered sedan and glanced at the dock. His classmates had already gathered and were nervously eyeing the waves beyond the jetty. The wind was even stronger on the coast than it had been in the city; it promised to be a very eventful session.
“Man overboard portside!” yelled the instructor.
Hannes tried to remember the correct sequence of maneuvers. Of course, no one had really fallen
into the icy waters of the Baltic Sea, just an orange buoy.
The future seafarers had been split up into two inflatable boats. After the last person had managed to cast off while shouting out all the commands in correct order, it’d been time to try docking in tight spaces. The harbor offered the perfect practice setting; the boat collided repeatedly against the dock or a fishing boat during the repeated attempts.
So far, Hannes had done well—at least, the Lena wouldn’t suffer any scratches on account of his steering skills. He now had to prove whether or not he could safely pull a person from the water. Since he wanted to take Anna out on the water as soon as possible, this exercise was very important.
After the fake panicked cries of the instructor, Hannes slammed the lever of the outboard motor and took his hand off the accelerator. He steered the stern away from the buoy, so the motor’s propeller blades wouldn’t butcher the individual. Hannes checked the wind direction before assigning tasks to his crew.
“Ute, deploy flotation devices. Karl, keep your finger pointed at the victim. Anke, note our coordinates.”
The instructor had no comments, which was a good sign. Hannes carefully gave the motor some gas and steered leeward before turning and heading for the buoy. He decided that the rescue should take place on the starboard side and shouted the appropriate commands. But in the process, he forgot to approach an overboard passenger slowly and to ease off the gas. Although the inflatable boat nudged the imaginary victim only slightly, a human head wouldn’t have fared well. When Hannes repeated the maneuver, he imagined Anna’s face on the bobbing sphere. This time, the maneuver went flawlessly.
During the lunch break, the instructor entertained his students with his knotting skills and gave everyone a small piece of rope on which to practice. As usual, Hannes tangled his when rolling a hitch knot and hoped he wouldn’t be asked to make one when he took his test. After eating his sandwich, Hannes called Isabelle and Clarissa. They had nothing new to report.
“A woman thought it was odd that her dog had died,” Isabelle said. “It was sixteen years old. That’s Methuselah in dog years.” She laughed. “By the way, Clarissa knows the woman you talked to yesterday. Hold on, I’ll pass her to you.”
“When I was still walking the beat, we were constantly having to haul Mrs. Reichert down to the station,” Clarissa said. “Petty thefts every time. She’d get caught by store security guards.”
“Oh? I took her for a harmless old lady.”
“I wouldn’t say old—she’s in her early sixties. You’d never suspect her if you ever ran into her. She’s tall, slim, and has an almost aristocratic face. Her husband’s a banker, and they’re extremely wealthy. She wasn’t stealing for lack of money.”
“Do you know when she last went on a stealing spree?”
“Well, she wasn’t caught every time. I last had to deal with her about a year ago, just before I got off patrol. She started going to see a therapist. It’s possible she’s done stealing.”
“I don’t think there’s much more to her story,” said Hannes. “But as for Mr. Hartmann and Mrs. Brinkmann, I’m not so sure.”
“Mr. Hartmann kept getting those calls on Sundays, right?” Isabelle was back on the line. “It could have been a form of intimidation, but it could also have been a prank. The letter to Mrs. Brinkmann’s children regarding their unknown father points to a more personal connection. Perhaps a relative’s behind it. Very few people would have known about the story.”
“I think so too,” Hannes said. “She was very eager to keep it a secret. The incidents the Becks and Grafs experienced are the only cause for concern. We need to ask Marcel and Federsen how to proceed.”
Isabelle was skeptical. “I don’t think it’s enough to warrant personal protection. I’m curious to see what happens tomorrow at the Church of the Creator.”
“Just be careful you don’t join and give them all your money.”
“Well, it’s not like they’ll get much out of me. How’s class? Fallen into the water yet?”
“Nope, but it could still happen. We leave the harbor after lunch and head a little farther offshore. It’s windy here. The boat will definitely be rocking.”
“Better take a Dramamine.”
Ute cowered in the rear of the motorboat, her face completely green. The group was practicing navigating by compass. It hadn’t been a good idea to have Ute at the wheel. It was virtually impossible for her to keep a steady course. Cold water doused the occupants every time Ute hit a wave head on.
The instructor sat grumbling in the bow. “New course one hundred eighty degrees!” he shouted before he was hit by a wall of water. “What’s she want a boating license for?” Hannes heard him mutter. He tried to maintain his composure and directed Ute back to the dock. As the boat bounced across the waves, he gave his students some tips for the exam.
“If you get Mr. Naumann, keep a low profile. He can’t stand wisecracks. Always keep calm and think before you perform the required maneuver. He will try to confuse you and trip you up.”
These tips were somewhat wasted on Ute. When the boat finally reached the dock, she stumbled out and collapsed onto the wet wood. It took some cajoling to get her up.
Two hours later, Hannes had not quite yet made the transition back to dry land either as he walked across the dock. “Completely normal,” a classmate reassured him, but it only took Hannes a few more moments before he was once again accustomed to walking on solid ground. He was in a euphoric mood. The afternoon had been fun, and he hadn’t thought once about the murder investigation. He looked forward to starting up Lena’s motor for the first time and sprinted to his car to change out of his wet clothes.
Federsen had called three times. Hannes’s good mood vanished. Hopefully there weren’t any new developments which might ruin the rest of his weekend.
Federsen was just returning from Antje Kramer’s funeral, where he had mingled with people from New Way. Hannes was strangely curious who had made her gravestone. Definitely not her. But he was wrong.
“These artists are weird,” Federsen said. “Ms. Kramer designed her gravestone years ago. Perhaps she was afraid of dying in an accident and wanted to be prepared.”
“What’s it look like?”
“Pretty bizarre. Celtic and Christian symbols. Even in death, she’s torn between two worlds.”
Like all the members of New Way. According to Federsen, the fear among the funeral attendees was almost palpable. But there was also a noticeably defiant attitude.
“Fortunately, Mr. Beck’s a trained chaplain. He called upon the other members to observe the fundamental principles of the group, so they don’t make themselves vulnerable to further attack. There’s a great need for discussion, and he seems very capable of reassuring them.”
“Some will probably need special encouragement.” Hannes summarized the results of his recent phone calls.
“We ought to keep an eye out on this group,” he said. “We should pay another visit to David Bach’s friends. Everyone claims not to have seen or heard from him in days.”
Hannes grew annoyed. If not for that damn cat, he would have caught Bach. Since he had a little more time before his date with Anna, he called Elke on his way home to see if they could get together for a bit. He wanted to hear her impressions from the meeting and to know why she was interested in New Way. They planned to meet up at seven that evening, which would leave him enough time to pick up Anna. There would even be time for a long shower—he couldn’t ignore Ben’s advice.
After showering and brushing his teeth, Hannes stood in front of his closet and considered his options. He pulled out his favorite pair of jeans, then put them back. They already looked well worn. He decided instead on a pair of dark-blue chinos that he’d only had on once. He owned only white and blue shirts, but even he realized a blue shirt would not go with a pair of blue pants.
“Where are you off to?” Elke asked as Hannes plopped down on her couch.
“I’ve got a d
ate with Anna tonight.” He tried to sound casual, but Elke raised an eyebrow.
“That explains a lot. Where are you taking her?”
“Um . . . nowhere. We’re going to spend a quiet evening at her place.”
“Uh-huh. Hence the really comfortable clothes, I see,” Elke teased with a laugh. She was lounging on the couch in sweatpants and a T-shirt, while he wore a white shirt and chinos. But it was clear that she was happy for him.
Hannes quickly changed the topic to the New Way meeting and asked her why she attended.
“I’m not a deeply religious person, but I’d like to belong to a community that seeks to shed light on life’s deeper meaning. Everyone’s constantly talking about money, status, and what awesome things they’re doing. But I don’t want some close-minded religious group with outdated morals. I don’t want to have to justify my homosexuality all the time. After you told me about New Way, I looked at their website and it appealed to me.”
“Did the group meet your expectations?”
“I can’t say yet. But they were very welcoming, and I liked their service. Solemn, but not too uptight. A woman read an essay about her husband who has cancer. It was very moving.”
“Did the deceased members come up at all?”
“Of course. Antje’s funeral was today, so they discussed the program and assigned tasks.”
“My boss was at the funeral and said some people seemed scared. Did you get that impression?”
Elke concurred. Members had been given the opportunity to voice their feelings and fears. Some had already been toying with the idea of quitting New Way. Everyone had been in agreement that they should keep a low profile for the next few weeks and postpone the group’s public activities. Whether this would also include the theater performances had yet to be decided.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be hanging around there right now,” Hannes said. “There’s some indication that the killings were related to the victims’ involvement in New Way. We’ve also learned that some members have experienced a few serious incidents.”
The Northern Cross (A Baltic Sea Crime Novel Book 2) Page 16
