by Dora Heldt
The afternoon sky was overcast, it looked like it was about to rain, and she didn’t even have an umbrella with her. She could either get the bus back to the guesthouse in Kampen, or she could walk along Friedrichstrasse and have a coffee somewhere. Undecided, Inge stood there outside the station for a moment. Then she suddenly saw Anika’s red Beetle drive into the parking lot. The passenger door opened, and a young woman carrying a huge bouquet of roses got out. Inge recognized her; she was one of the waitresses from Badezeit. Anika went around the car and hugged her. As her coworker stepped back, Anika glanced across and spotted Inge. She waved her hand.
“Inge! Just a moment!”
Inge strolled over and waited until Anika’s coworker walked off into the station after one final hug.
“My coworker Sabine,” said Anika, waving to her. “She has to leave her apartment and is moving in with her boyfriend in Husum. It was her last day today.” She turned to face Inge. “How are you? Where are you coming from?”
“I was in Niebüll. At the probate court.”
“Oh…” Anika looked at her questioningly. “And?”
Inge leaned against the car with a sigh. “It’s all quite peculiar. The nice man from the probate court told me I need the certificate of inheritance. But I don’t have that yet. And then he said that there was other—how did he put it?—documentation regarding Anna’s house. That means there’s probably another will. And he said I should get a lawyer.”
“But you’ve already got one. What does Kampmann say about all this?”
Inge shrugged. “He’s ill. And I think he may be part of the problem. But that’s a long story. In any case, I need another lawyer. And I have to look into this management agency thing too. Oh, Anika, I’ve got no idea where to start.”
“I’ll drive you home.” Anika nudged Inge gently toward the passenger door. “And then I’ll call Jörn Tietjen and, hopefully, arrange to have dinner with him tonight. Till is staying the night at his friend’s, in any case. Over dinner I’ll see what I can get out of Jörn about his client. I’ll find something out, Inge, I promise.”
Inge stayed by the house door until the red Beetle had disappeared around the bend. Then she slowly climbed the stairs to her apartment.
Martensen’s business card was still on the table. Inge picked it up thoughtfully and sank down into the armchair. On the spur of the moment, she pulled her cell phone out of her bag and dialed. He answered after the first ring.
“Martensen.”
“Hello, Herr Martensen. This is Inge Müller.”
“Frau Müller!” He sounded pleased. “How are you?”
“I’ve been better,” explained Inge. “I went to the probate court in Niebüll today. There really is another will. You were right, there’s something not quite right about all this. I had to hand over the will, but they made a copy for me, so I can send that to you.”
“That won’t be necessary,” replied Martensen. “I can take a look at it at the courthouse if I need to. I was just about to call you, by the way. Have you heard anything from Mark Kampmann?”
“No,” answered Inge. “But he is ill, after all.”
“He’s disappeared,” Martensen corrected her. “We wanted to question him as a witness, but we couldn’t find him. He’s gone completely off the radar. We’ve got no idea where he is.”
Inge took a deep breath. Things were getting more and more confusing. “What am I supposed to say to that?”
“Nothing, Frau Müller, we’ll find him. But if you do hear from him, please give me a call.”
“I will. Good-bye then, Herr Martensen.”
She put the phone back down on the table and wondered how she was going to explain all of this to Johann and Christine when they arrived that evening.
Chapter 33
* * *
Anika parked her car in the parking lot of the restaurant where she had arranged to meet Jörn. Looking at her watch, she realized she was half an hour too early. That’s what happened when you hardly ever go out; your nerves made you leave the house too quickly. She leaned back on the headrest and tried to picture how the evening would go.
She had to find out how Guido Schneider was connected to Inge’s inheritance. Inge. Anika couldn’t help but smile to herself when she thought about how secretively and enthusiastically Inge had pursued her plans. The sheer energy of the woman astounded her. It wouldn’t be fair for everything to go wrong now. Inge had already laid so much groundwork and been so brave. It would be wonderful if her plans came to fruition, not just for Inge’s sake but her own and Till’s too.
Anika hadn’t had much luck in the last ten years. Before that, she had been studying architecture, her dream subject, in Berlin. That’s when she had met Jörn. He was in the same year as her, the most handsome student in her year, and the funniest. They had often crossed paths, and Anika had liked him a lot. Her time in Berlin had been wonderful, at least the first two semesters. She had met up with the other students to study and had spent the evenings chatting with them in the local bars, often ending the night in someone’s kitchen making scrambled eggs for everyone. She had been a completely happy, normal student. Until she had met Harold, that was. He was a captivating man, but he was incredibly difficult. He was also married, and their affair had ended as suddenly as it began. His wife had found out and threatened to tell people. Seeing his career in danger, Harold had broken up with Anika. Two months later, she had realized she was pregnant.
A tap on her car window pulled her from her thoughts. Jörn leaned over and opened the car door.
“Hello, Anika. Have you been waiting long?”
“No.” She climbed out slowly. “Not even five minutes. Hello, Jörn.”
He looked at her searchingly and gave her a soft kiss on the cheek. “I was really pleased that you called. Shall we go in?”
They were given a table by the window, and the waiter handed them the menus. He was barely gone before Anika laid her menu aside, rested her hands on the table, and looked at Jörn.
“So, tell me about this wonderful new project of yours.”
Startled, he looked up. “Do you already know what you want to eat?”
She nodded. “Pan fish with mustard sauce.”
“Then I’ll have that too.” He gestured toward the waiter. “Would you like a starter?…No? Okay, then two pan fish, a beer for me, and…”
“Water, please,” said Anika.
“…and a water. Thank you.” Jörn handed the menus to the waiter and turned back to Anika. “But I want to hear about you first. Why are you living on Sylt? Where do you work? Why did you disappear so suddenly back then? No one had an address for you. We were all worried.”
“Oh, that’s all really boring.” Anika waved the question away. “I’m much more interested in your building project. How did you get such a great commission?”
Jörn looked at her thoughtfully before answering. “But then it’s your turn to talk, okay?” She nodded and looked at him expectantly.
“It was quite strange really,” Jörn began. “I have an architecture office in Hamburg, with Julius Claus, by the way. Do you remember him? He studied with us.”
“The blond guy? The one who played soccer and always talked so much?”
Jörn laughed. “That’s the one. So, at the end of March we had a visit from Guido Schneider and his assistant Marion Fischer. He showed us a plan of the site and asked whether we could convert the building. The only condition for taking on the commission was that we had to start as soon as possible.”
“How soon?”
“In principle, immediately. And he was in luck, because a project had fallen through on us the same day, so we were able to get going straightaway.”
“What does this Schneider guy do, anyway?”
“He must have a lot of money. Either that or his business partner does, but I haven’t met him. In any case, they own a lot of houses on Sylt. All vacation apartments. He wants us to create eight apartments in the pr
operty out of the four that already exist, and they’ll then be sold separately. Just the location alone is enough to guarantee a sale. I’m sure you already know what house prices are like on the island. They’ll make a fair return on it.”
“And he bought the house recently?”
“No.” Jörn shook his head. “The lucky bastards inherited it. He mentioned that when you were there with your aunt, remember? The house belonged to an old woman who left it to them.”
Anika had just wanted to hear it again. “Oh, yes, that’s right, he did say that. Well, that really was a stroke of luck for them.”
“We’re almost done with the planning stages. So as soon as the final formalities are dealt with at the probate court, the builders will make a start.”
“And when will that be?” Anika tried to make her voice sound as casual as possible.
“Within the next few days, according to Schneider,” Jörn explained, seemingly unfazed by her questioning. “The whole thing will be very quick. The conversion certainly won’t get any architectural prizes, anyway—completely normal apartments, all identical, without any special features. I think it’s a bit of a shame, really. It’s such a charming old house, and we could do a much more fitting, visually appealing conversion.”
“So why don’t you do it?” Anika nodded to him. “You’re the architect.”
He waved his hand. “As I said, this commission is all about speed. Quick planning, quick conversion, quick sale. There’s no real passion in it. But never mind, it’s still a really good commission for us.” He paused for a moment, then looked at her. “So now it’s your turn. Why did you leave so suddenly back then, right before the exams?”
She gazed at him for a while. “I was pregnant,” she said after a while. “I couldn’t have managed it—coping with a baby and school at the same time.”
Jörn almost choked on his beer. “And who’s the father?”
“You don’t know him,” she answered calmly. “We separated before the birth, anyway. I came to Sylt because a friend of mine lived here. She helped me out a great deal when Till was little, and we ended up staying here.”
“Right, so…” Jörn leaned forward. Anika braced herself for what he was about to say, but luckily a female voice came to her aid.
“Herr Tietjen, could you help us?”
Jörn looked up, taken aback. “Hello, Frau Fischer!”
“Hello.” Frau Fischer was standing next to another woman at their table and looking somewhat stressed. “My sister and I have just arrived from Munich by plane and are completely starving. Mark was supposed to reserve a table for us, but it seems he forgot. And now there aren’t any tables free. Could we join you? I promise we won’t disturb you.”
Before Jörn could answer, Anika had already taken her handbag from the chair next to her and moved a little closer to the window.
“Of course,” she said, thinking of her waitressing job. “I know what it’s like, looking forward to dinner so much and then not being able to get a seat.”
“Thank you.” Relieved, Frau Fischer sank down onto the chair and pointed at the chair next to Jörn. “Jutta, come and sit down. I’ve never forgotten to reserve a table before, I just didn’t have the number with me in Munich, and that’s why I asked my boyfriend to call up for me yesterday evening. And Mark had said, ‘Of course, darling, I’ll do it right away.’ Ha! It sounds like it. I’ll give him what for.”
Jörn was puzzled by Anika—her rapid-fire questioning when he had come in and her elusiveness when he had asked about her own life. He saw his chance to find out more about her life slipping away for the moment.
Walter pressed his nose up against the windowpane.
“I can’t see a thing,” he grumbled. “Everything’s pitch black.”
Kalli and Heinz were holding onto his legs.
“Come down then,” whispered Kalli. “The bench is already starting to wobble.”
Walter reluctantly let them help him down from the front garden bench. “I’m going around the back. Perhaps you can see better from there.”
Heinz brushed down Walter’s trousers until he knocked his hand away. “Stop that!”
“Why? They’re all dusty. And you’re going to be sitting in my car again in a second.”
“Shhh!” hissed Kalli. “Don’t make such a noise. Why don’t we just ring the doorbell?”
“Then he would know we’re here,” explained Heinz. “And doing it this way means we might even catch him in flagrante.”
“Heinz!” Kalli looked at him horrified. “That’s your sister you’re talking about.”
“And? She’s not answering her cell phone, so who knows what she’s doing right now.”
Kalli shook his head in disbelief and turned around to Walter. But he was already gone. Seconds later, he reappeared. “There’s a sign on the door. Mark Kampmann and Marion Fischer. I rang the doorbell, but no one answered. If I climb the hedge over there, I can get to the terrace. You need to make a robber’s ladder for me. The hedge is too high.”
Heinz put his hand on Walter’s shoulder. “So it’s not just you being betrayed, but poor Marion Fischer too. Good grief.”
Walter pushed his hand away. “Yes, yes, we’ll talk about it later. Just come with me for now.”
The hedge was taller than them. Kalli looked at it skeptically. “You’ll never get over that, Walter. Should we perhaps just come back another time? When someone’s in? And maybe everything will clear itself up in the meantime.”
“Kalli, you’re such a coward,” said Walter. “And besides, I’m fit. I got a gold sports badge, you know, the best of my year group. So don’t be such a chicken. Make me a robber’s ladder.”
Kalli loyally followed the order. Walter placed his right foot carefully in Kalli’s hands and pushed himself up, just managing to grasp the top of the hedge. Kalli staggered under his weight while Heinz tried to support him from below.
“What do you weigh?” groaned Heinz. “I think you might need to go on a diet.”
Kalli’s breathing was heavy. “Can…you…see…anything?”
“Not with you wobbling around like that. Lift me a little bit higher, then I’ll be able to get over.”
With bright red faces and using all of their strength, they lifted him a few inches higher.
“I can’t…hold out…much longer,” Kalli spluttered. Heinz wobbled, so did Kalli, and then Walter tumbled down, crashing through the hedge. It closed in around him.
“Walter?” whispered Kalli tentatively.
Heinz was louder. “Walter! Are you hurt?”
“Ye-es.”
“Walter?” Kalli peered nervously through the bush. “Say something!”
“I think…I broke something.”
Heinz ran frantically along the hedge, then came to a halt. “Here!” He pointed at a small gap. “If we break some of these branches, we’ll be able to get him out.”
Kalli was still squatting down in the same position. “Walter, can you move? Can you crawl a little bit closer to Heinz? If you can, we can get you out of there.”
They heard a groaning sound moving slowly toward the spot where Heinz was speedily breaking hydrangea limbs. After a while, the hole was big enough for Walter to poke his head through.
“And now?” he asked, looking at Kalli and Heinz with a pained expression. “I’m seriously injured.”
“Now you need to be brave.” Heinz stretched out his arm toward him, Kalli the other, and together they pulled him out of the huge hedge.
Kalli and Heinz didn’t have enough change on them, so they shared a Fanta from the vending machine while they waited for the doctor. After what felt like an eternity, Dr. Keller came around the corner. Heinz jumped up immediately.
“Hello, Dr. Keller. We already know each other. How is my brother-in-law? Will he pull through?”
Dr. Keller shook his hand. “Oh, so Herr Müller is your brother-in-law? I’m slowly starting to get to know your entire family. How did the acci
dent happen?”
Embarrassed, Heinz looked at the floor. “Well, er…we were…”
“…trimming the hedge,” finished Kalli, coming to stand next to him. “Walter really loves gardening, and the hedge really needed it. It was much too high.”
The doctor looked at Heinz disapprovingly. “I don’t know what kind of ramshackle ladder you have, but you should take more care in the future. You can break something falling like that. Especially at your age.”
“Hey!” Heinz was indignant now. “We’re all still very fit. Walter got a gold sports badge back in the day.”
“What’s wrong with him then?” Impatient, Kalli pushed his way in front of Heinz. “Does he have to stay in overnight?”
“No.” Dr. Keller pulled a prescription slip from his coat pocket and handed it to Heinz. “He took a heavy knock to the coccyx—the tailbone—but it will only hurt for a few days. I’ve prescribed some painkillers, up to four a day if needed, no more. Other than that he has a lot of scratches. He must have fallen through the hedge pretty badly.”
“Yes.” Heinz nodded respectfully. “He did take quite a tumble. But he’s a sensitive man, my brother-in-law. He always thinks he’s ill with something.”
At that moment, Walter appeared, hobbling along the corridor. Small twigs and hydrangea leaves were still hanging from his jacket.
“Ooo…ooo…ow,” he moaned as he made his way to them. “We can go.”
The doctor looked at him questioningly. “As I said, Herr Müller, if you feel bad, we can keep you overnight for observation.”
“No, no.” Walter cleared his throat and straightened his back. “I’m fine. Big boys don’t cry. Thank you very much, Doctor. The prescription?”
“I gave it to your brother-in-law so you can pick it up on the way home. Okay then, get well soon.” He shook his hand and nodded to the other two. After two steps, he stopped and turned around to Heinz. “Oh, I just thought of something. I lost your sister’s telephone number. If you see her, could you please ask her to give me a call?”
