Rain Girl

by Gabi Kreslehner

  He shook his head and watched her as she rummaged around in her handbag looking for aspirin.

  “Thanks,” she said. “That’s very sweet of you, Felix. Just think how you’ll be feeling in a few months.”

  He grinned rather unhappily, and she was satisfied.

  “So,” he said, “let’s take a good look at Marie’s life. I figure her last home is most important. The manager called us, a social worker. She recognized Marie from the photo. Robert spoke to her, and apparently she’s pretty shaken. He’s made an appointment for us to see her this afternoon.”

  He leafed through the little notebook he always had on him, and then raised his head and stared at Franza. “Ah, yes,” he said, “before I forget. We have a DNA match. The cigarette butts from the shoulder of the autobahn are from the same person as some of the ones at the rest area. Just as we suspected. It’s nobody we have in our files, however, so he didn’t do us that favor.”

  Felix shrugged regretfully and continued leafing through the notebook.

  “What else? Oh, yes, a teacher called us, also because of the picture. She was going to school again and was in his class. I think we should talk to him, too. We’re meeting him at the school around noon, during his lunch hour.”

  He flipped another page and nodded contently. “That’s it for now. No one saw her on the autobahn, unfortunately. Or at least no one’s contacted us about it. But you never know . . .”

  He shrugged, leaving the sentence uncompleted, and took a sip of Coke.

  “Yuck!” Franza said. “How can you drink that stuff!?”

  Felix looked at the glass in his hand with surprise. “Why? Because of a few teaspoons of sugar? Your cookies have at least that much.”

  He turned around and walked back toward his desk. Before he sat down he turned to Franza again. “Oh, yes, the mother, Frau Gleichenbach, called again. She’s coming to identify the body today and would like you to be there. I said yes. Is that OK with you?”

  Franza nodded. “When?”

  “She’ll be here in about an hour. I thought you could drive to the hospital together.”

  “No problem.”

  She looked around the room. “We still don’t have a coffeemaker?”

  Felix kept typing on his computer without looking up. “No. I thought you’d bought one. I saw the box in the back of your car yesterday.” He looked up. “Or was I mistaken?”

  Franza felt herself turning red. Shit, she thought. “No,” she said, “I mean yes. No.”

  He was listening attentively now, leaning back in his chair, rocking and grinning. “So which is it?”

  She didn’t answer, but sat down at her desk opposite Felix and turned on her computer.

  “Ah!” he said, lifting his left eyebrow a bit and smiling. “I see. It was for . . .”—he thought for a moment—“for your . . . what do you call it? Lover? Do I know him?”

  “How’s Angelika?” she asked.

  “Don’t change the subject!” he said.

  She was silent for a while as he looked her up and down. Finally she took a deep breath and decided to talk. Felix was her best friend, so who could she confide in if not him? She told him Port’s name, convinced Felix wouldn’t know it. But he whistled softly through his teeth. “Wow!” he said. “You’ve got good taste. Our theater’s rising star! But since when do you have a thing for artists? You’ve never even been inside a theater.”

  She was speechless. Who else here knew Port? “How on earth do you know him?”

  He laughed. “Why on earth are you surprised?”

  She shrugged. “I don’t know,” she said. “I didn’t know who he was.” She had to grin. “That was a shock to him.”

  “I believe that,” Felix said, grinning as well. “But by now he’s probably used to the fact that you’re a lowbrow. You must have other qualities, then? Qualities I don’t know about?”

  She narrowed her eyes and smiled mysteriously. “It looks that way.”

  “So the coffeemaker is at his place now?”

  Franza nodded.

  “Tea drinker?” He shuddered. “Unbelievable!”

  Franza nodded. “Isn’t it?”

  “And Max?”

  Franza sighed.

  At that moment there was a knock on the half-open door, and a man entered: about fifty years old, well-groomed, a tennis-court tan, wearing a suit and tie and carrying the beginnings of a paunch.

  “Am I in the right place?” he asked. “I’m looking for the detectives in the case of this girl, Marie Gleichenbach.”

  Felix leaned back in his chair again. The ball had started rolling. “Yes, you’re in the right place. I’m Detective Herz, and this is my colleague Detective Oberwieser. And you are?”

  “Lauberts,” the visitor said, holding out his hand to Felix. “Dr. Lauberts.”

  He smiled a little apologetically and looked around. Franza got a chair for him and offered him a glass of water. “One never drinks enough, right? Especially in this heat.”

  “Yes,” he said, grateful for this easy opening. “Thank you.”

  “So,” Felix replied, putting an end to the formalities whose sole purpose was to put visitors at ease. “How can we help you?” he asked, and crossed his arms.

  “The newspaper said it was murder,” Lauberts blurted out. “And then it said it was an accident—so which was it?”

  “Well,” Felix said, “we don’t know all the details yet, but there’s a lot of evidence to suggest the girl’s death was premeditated.”

  “Murder, then.”

  “If that’s what you want to call it.” Felix looked at the man with interest. He was clearly struggling with himself.

  “And you’re investigating?”

  Felix nodded. “Yes, of course.”

  Lauberts took a sip of his water and sighed. “Well, in that case,” he said, “in that case, I don’t have a choice.”

  The detectives waited. Lauberts pressed his lips together and stared at his hands.

  “Well, then,” he began finally. “The thing is, I work for social services looking after adolescents who’ve gone astray, if you want to call it that. It’s an administrative job, but I’m responsible for sending them to state homes and residential groups, which is how I met Marie Gleichenbach several times.”

  He paused and looked expectantly at the detectives.

  Franza noticed that little drops of sweat had formed on his tanned forehead. “Yes?” she asked softly.

  He emptied his glass in one gulp. “Well, the thing is,” he said. “I want to be completely open with you. Each home we supervise has to keep a record of visitors. We can’t have just anyone come and go as they please.”

  Franza and Felix nodded sympathetically.

  “I mean,” Dr. Lauberts continued eagerly, “it’s our highest priority to keep our teenagers away from drugs and violence. We try to supervise their contacts as much as we can. This is difficult because they’re not locked up, so they have to report to their resident supervisors, if you know what I mean.”

  Franza and Felix nodded that they understood.

  Dr. Lauberts was on a roll. “After all, they’re supposed to be rehabilitated. Of course, they can go wherever they want in their spare time, don’t get me wrong. We can’t control every minute of their lives anyway. But at least the comings and goings at the homes need to be recorded, who visits whom for how long, and especially when the visits take place behind closed doors, if you know what I mean. Certain acquaintances from our charges’ pasts are not welcome at all, of course. I mean, I don’t want you to think we’re that suspicious, or that nosy, or that coldhearted, but our colleagues in the field have seen so much . . .”

  He lost his train of thought and blushed under his tan. How many hours has he spent sweating on the tennis court for this? Franza thought.

  “Now what are you actually trying to tell us, Dr. Lauberts?” Felix asked in a friendly tone.

  He’s good at that, Franza thought approvingly, he rea
lly is good at that. When he wants something he can be friendliness personified—so nice, so kind, and soon the good doctor will have poured his heart out, and he’ll have done so gladly.

  She shot Felix a smile and was certain that Dr. Lauberts was feeling quite at ease with them now.

  “Well,” Lauberts said, sighing deeply. “I’m here so you don’t draw the wrong conclusions.”

  “Wrong conclusions from what?”

  “Well.”

  He squirmed nervously on his seat. Now we’re getting down to business, Franza thought. Spit it out, we don’t have forever.

  Felix smiled gently and glanced at Franza while Lauberts pulled himself together.

  “You’ll find my name.”

  Felix leaned forward. Franza held her breath as the suspense grew.

  “Your name. Where?”

  Now it was Lauberts’s turn to become impatient. “Well, in Marie’s visitors’ record, of course.”

  “I see,” Felix said, curbing his excitement. “Meaning?”

  “As I said before, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea!”

  “And what would be the right idea?”

  Felix’s eyes had become narrow slits. He leaned back in his chair, rested his chin in his hand, and stared at Lauberts.

  Lauberts stood up and began pacing back and forth.

  “Please sit back down,” Felix said calmly. “Why are you so nervous?”

  Lauberts took a seat again. “I’m not nervous,” he said. “It’s just that I’m a little embarrassed. I mean, I don’t usually visit my clients in their homes, or, more precisely, in their rooms.”

  “Yes,” Felix said slowly. “That’s a little embarrassing, indeed, especially since Marie is dead now. But that you showed up here on your own to explain the situation does you credit. So what was the reason for your, let’s call it visit, to Marie?”

  Lauberts sighed. “Well, it’s not that easy to explain.”

  He looked pleadingly from one detective to the other, but the expressions on their faces remained impassive. He sighed again and took a deep breath. “She came to see me in my office one day to complain about the conditions in the home. She thought that Frau Hauer, the resident supervisor—have you met her yet . . . ?”

  He looked questioningly from Franza to Felix, but they both shook their heads. “Yes, well, she thought that Frau Hauer was neglecting her duties, and that the place was getting out of hand. She said she didn’t want to put up with it. I was surprised, especially because I know and value Frau Hauer as one of my most committed and able colleagues. So I agreed to come around in person to have a look at the situation, which I did. Unfortunately, Frau Hauer wasn’t there, hardly anyone was there actually, only Marie and a new employee, an intern I hadn’t met yet. She didn’t know me, and insisted on putting my name in Marie’s visitors’ record even though I’d already shown her my ID from the social welfare office! But I didn’t want to cause trouble, so I let her put my name down. You know what it’s like, one has to lead by example—and when you haven’t got anything to hide, like me . . .”

  He laughed nervously and got up. “Well, that’s it, really, that’s what I wanted to tell you. That you shouldn’t be surprised to find my name in the book.”

  He looked at his watch. “Yes, well, er, I should be getting back to work.”

  They felt his relief that it was over, but they weren’t finished with him yet.

  “You went into Marie’s room?”

  Felix’s voice sounded calm and harmless. Lauberts nodded, a little confused, not yet realizing that he was digging his own grave. “Yes, I was supposed to inspect it.”

  “What about the door? Did it stay open?”

  He started stuttering. “No, yes, I don’t know.”

  “Which is it?”

  He squirmed.

  “Sit back down, please,” Felix said. “So, the door?”

  Lauberts stood still, but his face twitched.

  “What was the name of the woman who wrote down your name?” Felix pulled out his notepad and a pencil.

  “I already told you, I didn’t know her!” A glimmer of hope showed on Lauberts’s face.

  “No problem,” Felix said calmly and put down his paper and pencil. “Frau Hauer will be able to tell us. How long ago was your . . . visit?”

  Lauberts closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing shallow. “Two weeks,” he said flatly. “Maybe three.”

  “Well, not so long ago. Your conscientious colleague will certainly remember you and your . . . visit, don’t you think, Dr. Lauberts?”

  Felix got up, stepped behind the empty chair on the other side of his desk, and gestured for Lauberts to take a seat again.

  “All right,” Lauberts said and sank down on his chair, a picture of misery.

  “The door,” Felix said.

  “Yes, the door. Marie might’ve shut it. I’m really not sure. Why is that so important, anyway?”

  “There we are,” Felix smiled. “The memory is truly a fascinating thing! We just have to jog it a little every now and again, don’t we? Now tell us once more so we won’t forget it again: the door was shut. Was it maybe even locked? What were you actually doing in that room?”

  “Nothing. What do you think I was doing? Nothing, I just had a look around.”

  “For how long?”

  “What do you mean—how long?”

  “Well, just how long were you in there? That’s a simple question, isn’t it?”

  Felix leaned over his desk and looked straight into Lauberts’s face. The man blinked and then just gave up, his face ashen. “What’s the point, you’ll find out anyway. It’s in the record, after all. About half an hour.”

  He was sweating heavily now.

  “Half an hour!” Felix whistled softly through his teeth. “Isn’t that a bit long just to inspect a room? Franza, what do you think? Isn’t that a little long?”

  Franza nodded. Satisfied with himself, Felix continued, “Why don’t you tell us the truth about your visit to Marie’s room, Dr. Lauberts?”

  Lauberts paused for one more moment—one last attempt at resistance—and then he collapsed. “She tried to seduce me, the little bitch!”

  “And?” Felix said sweetly. “Did the little bitch succeed?”

  Lauberts protested. “Listen, I’m married!”

  “That doesn’t stop most people,” Felix said calmly. “But I’m sure you know that as well as I do.”

  Felix fell silent. They were all silent. Then they entered the next round.

  “Well, did she succeed?”

  Lauberts paused to think. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. The detectives waited.

  “You don’t have to tell my wife, do you?”

  “No, not necessarily.”

  Lauberts cleared his throat, squeezing the handkerchief in his hand.

  “It only happened a few times.”

  “What?”

  Lauberts looked up, surprised. “Well, I guess you can figure that out.”

  Felix shot up from his chair and slammed his hand on the table. There was no trace of kindness left in his voice. “Damn right I can! But I want to hear it from you!”

  “Well then!” Lauberts sputtered. “I fucked her! For half an hour! Fucked, get it? Because she wanted it! Because it gave her a kick to do it in her room while that stupid twat waddled around out there in the hall!”

  He stopped abruptly, shocked, and got hold of himself again. Then he continued quietly.

  “I didn’t even want to; I thought it was too dangerous. But that’s how she liked it, always in strange places. In my office, in her room, at the lake with people all around, in the women’s room at the mall. She always got me into the most impossible situations, the little bitch.”

  He shook his head, trembling all over, and took a deep breath.

  “But you obviously enjoyed these . . . impossible situations. Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone along with it.”

  Laub
erts crumbled, nodding slowly. “You have no idea what it’s like,” he said, “when a girl like that comes on to you.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “So young. Like a fountain of youth, like a . . .”

  He broke off. He was melting like ice cream in the sun, but neither Franza nor Felix felt sorry for him.

  “She was put in your care. Do you understand that?”

  He nodded.

  “And you took advantage of her.”

  He nodded.

  “Did you kill her?”

  Lauberts started as if bitten by a snake. “No!” he shouted. “For God’s sake, no! Why would I do that?”

  “Well, maybe she threatened to tell your wife. Maybe she was blackmailing you. Maybe she was tired of being your—what did you call it?—fountain of youth.”

  Lauberts squirmed on his chair. “I didn’t kill her! I could never do such a thing! What do you think I am?!”

  Felix didn’t answer the question but posed a new one. “Where were you Monday, from ten at night until Tuesday, around five in the morning?”

  “At home, asleep.”

  “Can anyone confirm this?”

  Lauberts shook his head slowly. “No, I was alone in our house. My wife’s on vacation in Italy, and our children are in boarding school.”

  Felix nodded. “You can go now.”

  Lauberts stood up, surprised and relieved. “So you believe me?”

  Felix narrowed his eyes and didn’t answer right away. “We’ll see.”

  Lauberts nodded, took a couple of steps toward the door, and then turned around.

  “I paid her, by the way,” he said. “Just so you know. Good money.”

  Wow, Franza thought, raising her eyebrows. She looked at Felix and saw he was surprised, too.

  Lauberts kept talking, his voice bitter. They stared at him, wondering what would come next. “And in case you’re thinking it was just me . . . ! No, no. I don’t know how many friends she had, and I don’t know their names either, but there were a few. I’m sure you’ll find that out. And one more thing: she was worth it, she was a born whore. She could drive a man to ecstasy, if you know what I mean. Really, it’s a pity she’s dead.”

  Lauberts edged his way to the door.

  “Dr. Lauberts!” Felix said. Lauberts turned around again.

  “That’ll cost you at least your job.”