Nemesis: Innocence Sold

by Ross, Stefanie

  “You must be mistaken; otherwise he wouldn’t have sent you after Sandra. Maybe it didn’t come directly from him; maybe he did it for one of his golf buddies. That would fit: as the editor in chief of a big newspaper, he probably sends you off a lot, and one more job normally wouldn’t attract attention.”

  Daniel had no idea what Dirk was referring to, but this was the wrong time to ask. Dirk looked at the private detective until Michael shrugged. “You didn’t get this from me. But your theory sounds good.”

  Dirk smiled and nodded. “Thanks. That saves us time. What are you planning to do now?”

  “Stick to the truth. Call Weinreich and tell him the LKA told me in no uncertain terms to stay away from your colleague. I don’t have to mention how we got caught.”

  Dirk’s smile disappeared; his expression went cold. “Are you sure that’s everything, Michael?”

  The detective was silent, but Daniel could tell by looking at him that Dirk had hit the bull’s-eye. The accountant reached an agreement with his partner, and Sven took over. “How many employees do you have? I’d guess about ten or twelve. Why are you following Sandra in person? Why the BMW as backup?” Suddenly Michael seemed to take a greater interest in the Audi. Sven took a determined step forward. “Stop wasting time. We can’t afford it. We have the thwarted abduction of Tim and a dead child who looked frighteningly similar to him. Our patience is at an end. Put all your cards on the table, or you’ll get a visit from the regulatory agency and the tax office every month.”

  “Those are some nice methods you use. But you can save your threats. I can’t give you a reason, even if you take my business apart every month. I had a bad feeling about this assignment because we usually take on completely different things for Weinreich. I’m not going to say any more about that, however; it will have to be enough for you that I found it very strange and unusual. That’s all. Believe me or don’t. As a small compensation I’ll try to find out if someone’s behind Weinreich.”

  Dirk shook his head. “Leave it. It’s too dangerous. They get rid of anybody who gets too close to them.”

  “I don’t like letting myself be used, Dirk. By anyone, and at home I have a Glock, and I know how to use it. Don’t forget that I was once one of you.”

  Dirk growled and handed him a business card. “Call me if you need help or want to talk. You can always reach me on my cell phone, and please don’t mention the involvement of the Americans.”

  “What Americans? I haven’t been introduced to any.” With a wink, Michael left.

  It didn’t surprise Daniel that Dirk immediately turned to Sven when the private detective was out of earshot. “And?”

  “Mostly believable; he has a good reputation, and as far as I know there have never been problems with him. It was only the end I didn’t like. He knows something and is keeping it from us. He’s putting his life at risk, and that makes me angry.”

  Half an hour later, Dirk looked for an appropriate space in the parking lot in the Possehlstraße in Lübeck and was finally forced to park the Audi next to a van in such a way that two of its wheels were on the grass strip. “The police high-rise is over there. ‘High-rise’ is really an exaggeration, but that’s what it’s called,” he said while he attached the police light to the roof in order to ward off any consequences for his parking job.

  “I thought it was closer to the city center,” Daniel said.

  “If you walk along the water you can get to Pat’s place in about ten minutes. It’s only when you drive that you have to take a huge detour,” said Dirk.

  “Who’s Pat?” Sandra asked after she had been lost in her thoughts for a long time.

  “The redhead; you must have seen him this morning in the swimming complex. He lives with his girlfriend at the Malerwinkel on the Upper Trave. If it’s that close, we can meet at his place afterward. He has the Mercedes I want and actually wanted to pick us up.” He had hardly taken out his cell phone when it rang. After examining the display, he handed the cell phone to Sandra. “You take it. It’s Alex.”

  “Please put it on speaker,” said Dirk.

  “Sure, if this old thing has something like that,” said Sandra and accepted the call. “Just a second,” she said to Alex. “I have to find the speaker button; the men want to listen in.”

  “Try on the side,” said Alex. “Mark has the same kind.”

  “Can’t they afford newer models? My old smartphone is supermodern compared to this.”

  Alex laughed. “They fool people. They’re satellite phones with GPS chips and a few other special features, but they look butt-ugly.” Sandra raised a shoulder in apology as Daniel grinned. “It could be that I have something for you. A photographer with a studio in a hole-in-the-wall in the Lübeck old town, probably near Pat. I’ll get the exact address by text shortly; on the company stamp it’s completely smeared. But I have his phone number, and I’ll get the rest. The guy took pictures at the day care center last week. There’s a standard day for that once a year. The parents can buy the pictures later. Kerstin, the head of the day care, didn’t like the man. The guy has been doing it for years, but this time he was pretty shaky. He wasn’t very in control of himself until he had disappeared briefly. One of the interns guessed he had taken something. And here it comes: he was completely wild about Tim; he took more pictures of him than was normal and even stressed a few times how unusual the combination of blond hair and brown eyes is. That’s nonsense, by the way; when they were children, Dirk and Mark were also—”

  “Hey, that’s enough,” Dirk broke in. “Thanks, Alex—you don’t need to dig out any childhood stories. Do you have any more info? Like how he got our address?”

  “Isn’t this enough? I’d say this is a real trail, and of course I asked about the address, too. Now, the list of the names of the children, including the addresses and phone numbers of the parents, is hanging in Kerstin’s office; maybe he photographed it. He gets the names along the way, after all. But I do have something else. I’ve already googled the photographer: he also works for the Lübecker Nachrichten. Now you just have to find out if he was working on Fehmarn.”

  Sven and Dirk exchanged a quick look. “We’ll drive out there after this appointment and talk to the parents and our colleagues. I want to find out who was responsible for that missing-persons report,” Dirk said and gave Daniel a questioning look.

  Daniel nodded. “Sandra and I will take the photographer. Send the address to my cell phone.”

  “There’s still a word missing, Lieutenant,” said Alex.

  “Please!”

  “You see? You can do it. Do you have anything else for me?”

  Once again, Dirk bent forward. “Yes. Please check out the background of Walter Weinreich, editor in chief of your favorite Hamburg rag, and do the same for Michael Kerlinski. Just the standard—Jake and I will take on the rest this evening.”

  “I’ll do that. By the way, Jake and Mark are driving over with the boys to the Lübeck police on the other side of town, where the confiscated van is. They’re supposed to say whether that’s the vehicle from the playground. It’s all not really necessary, but they wanted to do it.”

  “Mark and Jake wanted to?” asked Dirk with a grin.

  “Very funny . . . ,” said Alex, offended, and she ended the conversation.

  CHAPTER 14

  Despite the friendly welcome they had received from the two Lübeck police officers, it was increasingly difficult for Daniel to conceal his impatience. The weather seemed more important than the case. He hated conferences, and this one was a classic example of wasting time, which was—aside from their team—also typical of the Navy.

  Mark was also opposed to meaningless phrases and hours of discussion lacking any purpose beyond the speaker boasting about himself, and he made sure they rarely had to take part in such experiences. He silently expressed his respect for Sven, who—in contrast to his usual outbursts of temperament—blocked every attack on the basis of the alleged violation of jur
isdictional boundaries in a calm and controlled manner. He even smiled as he spread his hands. “You’re absolutely right—we should choose our places of residence so that they lie within our own jurisdiction. But I assure you we have no intention of taking action in your area. We will confine ourselves to continuing Detective Meinke’s investigation in Hamburg, and the rest is yours. However, I’m somewhat shocked to find that there have been practically no investigations on your end up to this point. In view of the rumors, I’d have expected more.” Sven’s smile grew. It was only when Daniel took a closer look that he recognized the coldness in his eyes. “It proves once again that one shouldn’t believe everything one hears.”

  Visibly reassured, Captain Röhrich checked the straightness of his tie and reached for his coffee. Though he wouldn’t have been able to say why, Daniel didn’t like the man. Perhaps he was being unfair, but the gray suit and rimless glasses seemed like a facade; they didn’t fit the rather unkempt hair and noticeable crescents of dirt under his fingernails. It didn’t fit. His nervous, flickering gaze contrasted with his firm demeanor. Out of the corner of his eye, Daniel could see that Sandra was still occupied with reading the statement that Stephan and Sven had written for her the previous evening. A quick glance had satisfied him, and he had signed the thing, while Sandra seemed to be checking the accuracy of every word. Or she was looking for a distraction from Röhrich’s lengthy sentences.

  His attention abruptly focused when the second Lübeck officer suddenly seemed electrified. He had immediately noticed Mario Berger. Visibly concerned, he had asked Dirk about Tim; and he seemed to like to laugh and not to take himself too seriously. His casual sport coat was tossed carelessly over the back of his chair, and his open shirt collar indicated that he was considerably less formal than his colleague. Up to this point he had hardly said anything, but for some time Daniel had noticed a kind of tense expectation. Now he reached into his pocket and took out a cell phone and seemed to be looking for something on the display. Irritated, Daniel considered what Röhrich had been talking about. He could only remember some reference to “no results.”

  Berger stood up, walked around the table, and stopped in front of Daniel. Berger smiled. “I hate to contradict my colleague, but I’ve just had an idea. Your statement mentions a single clue: the name Kalle. The suspects confirmed this when they were interrogated. We have not yet had an opportunity to question them again, but perhaps you recognize this man?”

  Daniel looked at the display and nodded. “He was driving the van. I’m absolutely certain he was involved in the failed abduction in front of the supermarket yesterday. Who is it?”

  “Karl-Heinz Friedrichs, known as Kalle.”

  “How’d you find him? The name sounds pretty common.”

  “That’s true—in Northern Germany the name’s more of a category. This Kalle was found this morning on the grounds of a trucking company, more dead than alive, with a bullet in his head. One of my colleagues mentioned the nickname, and it was worth a try.”

  Berger looked neutral, but Daniel would have bet that earlier Röhrich would have vehemently denied any connection. “What’s his condition?” Daniel asked.

  Berger raised a shoulder. “He was lucky a small-caliber pistol was used. The doctors think he has a relatively good chance of surviving, but he will probably not remember anything when he wakes from the coma and will have the IQ of a child. He’s in a hospital in Kiel. They have more experience with these cases and are going to operate on him today.”

  That was complete nonsense; with effort, Daniel restrained himself from saying so. No serious doctor would let himself get carried away and make such a prognosis, and Kiel, in contrast to Lübeck, was by no means known for treating such cases. Also, it was extremely unlikely that a surgeon would wait hours to operate if the bullet had really lodged in the head.

  “We’ll find out to what extent the cases are connected,” Röhrich said, directing attention back to himself while Berger returned to his place. “Once we’ve reached agreement with regard to jurisdictional matters, you can count on our full support. This is a little outside protocol, but I’d be interested to know why the Hamburg LKA is here with two special investigators. Their exact function has not yet become clear to me.”

  Up to now Dirk had left the conversation to his partner and confined himself to observing the proceedings. His expression was impenetrable as he looked at Röhrich in silence for several seconds. “I’m supporting the economic crime unit as an accountant. Basically, the LKA is a client like any other. My world involves numbers and balances, not all this stuff with pistols and dead people. We’ve sent some criminals to prison for embezzlement, document fraud, and so on. To me, this business is simply”—shivering, he raised his shoulders—“dubious.”

  Berger set his coffee cup on the saucer with a clatter, and he suddenly seemed to be fighting a coughing fit. “Sorry. Coffee went down wrong,” he said in a choked voice.

  Sandra finally signed the document and pushed it over to Röhrich. “Everything’s fine. So we’ve taken care of all the formalities, right?”

  “Yes, actually,” Röhrich said, but he gave Daniel a look. “How are you involved in this?”

  The corners of Berger’s mouth took on an interesting life of their own as Daniel hesitated. But he didn’t intend to stand in the shadow of Dirk’s performance. “I actually work for the US Treasury, and I support Mr. Richter in connection with international cases. My specialty is dual-taxation treaties of all kinds, and my interest in this case is of a purely personal nature. Making sure nothing happens to anyone.” He looked into Sandra’s eyes and didn’t budge at all when she stomped hard on his foot.

  With emphasis, Sven rose, and only those who knew him well noted from the way he pushed his chair back that he was inwardly boiling with rage. “Please keep us up to date regarding your investigations,” he said in a raw voice.

  Daniel had been counting on cool and brief good-byes and was astonished when Berger gave them a hearty smile. “I’ll walk you to your car. It’s the least I can do after you’ve come all this way.”

  Dirk nodded.

  It wasn’t until they were a good distance from the conference room that Berger said, “Can we also agree that you’ll keep me up to date regarding your investigation?”

  “What investigation? We’re leaving the matter to you,” Sven said.

  Berger stopped. “Sure. I found that just as convincing as Mr. Richter’s performance as a harmless accountant. I’d bet anything there’s a gun under your shirt, and don’t forget I know you worked undercover. Only numbers and balances, indeed.”

  It was time for a counterattack. Daniel snorted. “And where exactly is your Kalle in Kiel? At the Center for Ocean Research? Or the Institute for the World Economy? Couldn’t you come up with something better when you’ve got the University of Lübeck medical center practically next door?”

  Instead of reacting with embarrassment, Berger laughed. “I could tell you’d seen through my little bluff. Since when do dual-taxation treaties contain qualified medical knowledge? Up to now, I’ve only seen military personnel that seem to be miles away or about to fall asleep but are actually listening with concentration. And by the way, do you know a redhead? Pretty smart-mouthed and also an American? He was standing outside Mr. Richter’s son’s hospital room. It would sure be nice to know what club the two of you belong to. The probability that Americans with different employers are drifting around in the orbit of the Hamburg LKA is approximately zero, wouldn’t you say?”

  “What speaks against the Treasury and the economic crime unit of the Hamburg LKA?” Daniel shot back. “But all right, I admit it: I have some experience as a medic from my time in the military. Is that enough? Or should I give you the number of my employer? He’s an accountant, by the way. An American, of course.”

  “And a damned good one,” Dirk said, as Mark had been an accountant before switching to the Navy. “Wouldn’t you like to put your cards on the table? In the
final analysis, we have more questions than you do.”

  “We’ll see.” He took a business card from the breast pocket of his shirt. “Give me a call when you have something. How can I reach you?”

  Dirk was already writing his cell phone number on his own card. “Daniel?”

  “Sure, write mine down, too. These phones are on day and night and can also be used to reach Ms. Meinke,” he said and glanced at Sandra’s foot, but this time his words had no effect.

  “This will be interesting,” said Berger, mostly to himself, when they’d reached Dirk’s Audi. “What are your plans now? Off the record, of course.”

  Dirk grinned. “A stroll through the old town and an outing to an island. Pure sightseeing.”

  “Sure. Have fun. No doubt we’ll be in touch soon,” Berger said with a casual wave.

  Sven leaned against the Audi and made sure nobody else was around. “And? Your impressions?”

  Sandra took a deep breath and tilted her head. “As if there’d only been rumors about child pornography. This has been going on for months. I’d have expected a special investigative team to have been deployed or that we would have at least met one or two detectives who were familiar with the material. Instead, the Lübeckers are all see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil. Röhrich is a total loss; I’m not sure about Berger. Maybe it sounds silly—I find him likable somehow, but he’s clearly keeping some things from us.”

  “I’d sign off on your last sentence,” Dirk said.

  Daniel said, “So would I. Was the business with your harmless accounting job a test balloon?”

  “Yes. I wanted to know what he knows about us. Obviously enough that he started cracking up during the performance and was barely able to conceal it. Maybe he’s already after his Lübeck colleagues who are either too lazy to do their jobs or are not doing them for other reasons. We’ll see. Can we get information from Kiel or Wiesbaden, Sven?”