The Oath

by Klaus-Peter Wolf

  Ubbo Heide patted his stomach and said, ‘I left the tin of mints in the police station.’

  Kowalski sniffed. There was a smell of black tea and fresh peppermint. He pranced around excitedly, like the favourite stallion in a race. ‘You were trying to trick me. Right? You think you’re cleverer than I am.’ He laughed as if he’d made a joke. ‘You’re not. I revere you, Mr Heide. You’re a great old man. You have vision, and you know what’s going on. But you’re not rigorous enough. I’m bringing your work to its conclusion. Together we could change East Frisia and the whole world along with it. It could start here, in your backyard, with your cases. You have always suffered from the inconsistency of the penal process, the soft approach of the justice system. If you join me, Mr Heide, then Ann Kathrin will join too. Weller, Rupert – your whole team. An East Frisia free of criminals – isn’t that the goal?’

  He clenched his fists and raised them like a burning torch.

  ‘The good guys are differentiated from the bad by their actions,’ Ubbo Heide said, but Kowalski wouldn’t stand for this.

  ‘But also by omission,’ he scolded. ‘And the way the justice system acts in our country, they’re stabbing you and your people in the back. That’s failure to lend assistance, if not worse. Why did you write the book? Do you not believe in your own arguments?’

  ‘Leave my husband in peace!’ Carola Heide demanded, moving towards Kowalski as if she intended to fight him.

  He pointed to the sofa. ‘Please sit down and shut your trap. Don’t make me have to tie you up and gag you.’

  She did ask he requested. She placed her hands on her knees and tried to keep the shaking under control.

  I have to be strong, she thought. I have to be very strong now, and I have to stand by my man, regardless of what happens.

  ‘We could become the Navy Seal Team 6 for East Frisia . People will love us.’

  Ubbo Heide looked at Kowalski as if he was an idiot. Kowalski was aware that Ubbo was so used to dealing with psychopaths that he always assumed he was dealing with one. He realised his first task was to show Ubbo that he was a highly intelligent man who was following a well thought out plan.

  ‘Mr Heide – think about it for a second! There’s work being done on intelligent weapons! Rockets that independently look for their targets—’

  ‘I’d prefer intelligent politicians,’ Ubbo Heide said, in all seriousness. ‘People who don’t think of carpet bombing the first time a problem comes up, but instead are wise enough to find peaceful solutions and demonstrate negotiating skills.’

  Carola Heide nodded to her husband.

  Kowalski tried to dismiss his arguments with a hand motion. ‘Yeah, that might be the way to deal with whole countries. But we’re not talking about countries, we’re talking about people, individual criminals—’

  Ubbo Heide interrupted him. ‘No. It’s always about people and ultimately human lives – usually innocent ones.’ Ubbo Heide pointed to him. ‘You, for example, killed two innocent people, namely—’

  ‘Heymann and Stern. I know. Good Lord, there’s always collateral damage! We have to live with that.’

  Ubbo Heide’s face gained more colour. His eyes had a feverish sheen. Something of his old charisma emerged, the way he could persuade anyone with a couple of sentences and bring them into line. ‘That’s exactly what I don’t want.’

  Kowalski didn’t accept these words. He pulled a monitor and a transmitter out of his bag and set everything up on the living-room table, as if he were a television technician who wanted to demonstrate a new piece of equipment.

  ‘Wilhelm Kaufmann, that true child killer – he won’t escape us. He’s on board the Langeoog III right now. Svenja Moers is with him. The woman who killed her two husbands, and the man who killed at least two children are on the same boat! Isn’t that ironic?’

  On the screen Ubbo Heide only saw the swinging hips, then a bald man from above.

  ‘We can’t expect especially great pictures. After all, our camera person doesn’t know that she’s filming for us. There’s a camera installed in her hairpin. She’s also wearing two mics in her earrings. We have her completely under control. We can hear what she says and see what she does. She’s on our side.’

  Ubbo Heide didn’t believe that. ‘Don’t talk such nonsense.’

  ‘Well, not completely voluntarily,’ Kowalski admitted. ‘She’s wearing an explosive belt that we can trigger with this,’ he pointed to his old phone. It’s enough for her and Kaufmann. The number is on speed dial. Press one button and the world has two fewer murderers. The justice department doesn’t need to worry about them anymore. If we don’t do it, they’ll both get away scot-free, Mr Heide. You know it’s true. I’ve heard you talking about Kaufmann, and Svenja Moers has already been acquitted of her crimes.

  ‘Do you want to spend the rest of your life in that wheelchair waiting for the news that somewhere a child has disappeared, has been fished out of the water, dead? Could you live with that guilt, Mr Heide? And Svenja Moers will certainly marry again and propel her next husband into the great beyond if there’s not enough money involved. And she’ll do it more cleverly than before. She’s learned from the first two times. That’s the problem. She’s getting better and better. You do an excellent job of describing that in your book, by the way.’

  Then Kowalski moved his face very close to Ubbo Heide’s. Their noses were almost touching and Ubbo could smell Kowalski’s nicotine breath.

  ‘One word from you, Mr Heide, and I’ll press the button, and both of them will be blown up. She’ll stay very close to him, as I’ve ordered her to. She’ll sit down next to him as soon as the ferry casts off. We can direct her from here. Say yes, and I’ll do it in your name! Or do you want to press the button yourself?

  He held out the phone for Ubbo Heide.

  ‘Never,’ Ubbo said.

  Kowalski almost dropped his phone and shouted, ‘For a better, crime-free world! You’ve fought for that all your life.’

  ‘You can’t protect freedom and justice by eliminating it,’ Ubbo Heide said. ‘And I don’t want to live in your brave new clean world.’

  Carola nodded to her husband. ‘Me neither!’

  Kowalski wanted to light a cigarette, but Ubbo Heide stopped him. ‘This is a smoke-free home.’

  Kowalski hadn’t expected that. ‘And you think I’m going to step outside to light one up?’

  ‘No, I expect you to respect the rules. There’s no smoking in my home. I don’t care what you do in your house.’

  ‘Don’t push your luck, Mr Heide. I’m armed and you’re in a wheelchair.’

  Kowalski looked at his revolver, as if he had to reassure himself it was still there.

  Ubbo Heide smiled at him. ‘But that’s no reason to abandon all your manners. Are we going to start eating with our fingers next?’ He pointed to the floor. ‘Will we shit on the carpet? Or will we continue to behave like civilised people? I don’t want smoke in my home and you have to respect that.’

  ‘I need to smoke,’ Kowalski said, ‘when I get nervous. And I’m damn nervous.’

  ‘I would be too, if I were in your shoes,’ Ubbo Heide said. ‘But I also wouldn’t take any prisoners, and I’d step outside to smoke. Back when I was still smoking and Carola wasn’t, I always—’

  Carola Heide interrupted her husband. ‘Shouldn’t we make an exception?’

  Ubbo shook his head. ‘No. Why? It won’t harm him if he doesn’t smoke but it is harmful to us if we smoke passively. This is our home and we didn’t invite him in.’

  Kowalski groaned.

  Carola was afraid her heart would stop, but then she was astonished to see Kowalski push the cigarette back into the packet.

  *

  A light drizzle drove many of the tourists off the deck. They fled to an inside room and ordered hot cups of tea and coffee.

  In Rupert’s estimation, Svenja Moers was the hottest woman on board by far. He’d almost jumped up to push a chair under her
, like a gentleman, because she was looking around so indecisively for a place to sit. He hoped she’d sit next to the aisle, and not next to the window, so he could better admire her legs.

  He thought she was exactly his cup of tea. She was looking for attention and he’d give it to her.

  He pictured what kind of acrobatics she’d be able to do in bed. He wasn’t at all bothered by her ridiculous hairdo. After the problems with Agneta Meyerhoff he’d actually been planning to stay true to his Beate for a while, but he didn’t have the capacity to say no to such a tantalising offer.

  He would have liked to go over to her and brag that he was an undercover detective, not just a waiter. That would probably make him more interesting to her.

  Women were really strange creatures, Rupert thought. On the one hand, he didn’t know one who liked war movies or violence. But they all loved muscular gunslingers. They married gentle teachers or social workers, but dreamed of Bruce Willis, Arnold Schwarzenegger, or Sylvester Stallone.

  He’d seldom been as annoyed by Ann Kathrin’s voice as he was now. It was as if she were sitting directly in his ear.

  ‘Kaufmann isn’t positioned correctly. We don’t have a clear view of him. He needs to move a little to the right.’

  Rupert wished he could shout at her to tell him herself. But he didn’t do that. It was still better to be following Ann Kathrin’s orders than serving that squawking horde of children with the three single mothers that was rolling towards the bar.

  Now that fantastic woman was sitting next to Willy Kaufmann. It didn’t get better than that! Hurray! Bingo! Rupert thought. If there’s a God, he’s on my side.

  She leaned back in her seat, stretched out her legs, and leaned over to Kaufmann.

  Lucky you, Rupert thought, she’s whispering something in your ear. Why’s that woman hitting on Kaufmann? Why isn’t she reacting to my glances and winks? What does Kaufman have that I don’t?

  He wanted to go over to adjust Kaufmann’s chair, to improve Ann Kathrin’s view.

  Svenja Moers draped an arm around Kaufmann and whispered into his ear. ‘My name is Svenja Moers. I’m a tool for the executioner. He can hear and see us. I’m supposed to give you this.’

  She handed Kaufmann a little box, which he took, dumbfounded.

  ‘Tool for the executioner. Are those your own words?’

  She didn’t respond. Instead, she said, ‘Keep the device with you. I’ll be blown up if I move more than two metres away from you. And you’ll go with me. From now on, we should keep very close. We’re supposed to hold hands like lovers. Our fates are now entwined.’

  Rupert stood next to their table. ‘May I move your chair slightly? You’re sitting in the aisle. If I need to get past when I’m serving someone—’

  Kaufmann snapped at Rupert, ‘No, you may not!’

  To Rupert’s astonishment, Kaufmann held out his open hand and the woman with the never-ending legs placed her hand in his. From a distance, the two of them now looked like a couple, but Rupert registered how the woman’s hands shook and the corners of her mouth twitched.

  He didn’t understand what was going on, but something was wrong. Was that woman a colleague from the federal police force, doing personal protection independently? Or had they just neglected to inform him?

  A forty-five-year-old woman called over to Rupert. ‘Hey, you! Are you still working here or is your position available? I know a couple of people who’d apply immediately! Who doesn’t want to work where other people take holidays?’

  Her husband acted impressed and her children even more so.

  Rupert shot back. ‘Now listen to me, bitch! You’ll land in the North Sea if you don’t shut up!’

  ‘Mum, what’d that man say?’

  ‘And keep your spawn close to you,’ Rupert scolded.

  *

  ‘Damn, damn, damn!’ Büscher cursed. ‘That bastard has tricked us! What now?’

  He stared at Ann Kathrin with big eyes. She’d never seen him so helpless.

  It’s always that way, she thought. You have a plan, but the only thing that works is improvising when things get going.

  Ann Kathrin tried to summarise the situation objectively. ‘He’s not on board as we expected him to be. We have all our forces tied up on Langeoog, and our SWAT team is on the ferry. We’re protecting forty-one additional individuals. We’re working ourselves into the ground and he’s somewhere completely different.’

  ‘Where, damn it, could he be?’ Büscher asked, and there was a hint of panic in his voice. He spoke frantically. ‘He’s going to blow the two of them to bits. Right now there are two hundred and twelve tourists plus the crew and then our people on the ferry. It’ll be a bloodbath!’

  ‘That’s not his goal,’ Ann Kathrin said, ‘that’d only pit us against him and make Ubbo Heide furious. He wants something else. He wants . . .’ her voice went quiet. The end of her sentence was barely audible, ‘to win Ubbo over.’

  Ann Kathrin ran her hands over her face as if to brush away cobwebs.

  Büscher activated the connection to Kaufmann and gave his orders. ‘We have to prevent lives from being endangered. Find a place on board where there are as few people as possible. Best of all outside, up on deck. Maybe you could climb into a life boat or—’

  Ann Kathrin pushed him aside and contradicted his orders. ‘No. Don’t do that. Do the opposite! You have to stay with the crowd. He won’t risk having innocent people die. He wants to punish criminals.’

  Kaufmann replied sarcastically. ‘It’s nice that everyone’s in agreement!’

  *

  Kowalski, who clearly still hoped he could get Ubbo Heide to join his side, spoke flatteringly. ‘Now we’ll show the world our power. We’re a hard-hitting, effective team.’

  ‘No,’ Ubbo Heide said, ‘we’re not a team. You’re a sick man, Mr Kowalski. Is that even your real name?’

  As if Ubbo Heide hadn’t even spoken, Kowalski was now making contact with Svenja Moers and giving her orders. ‘You two will now identify yourselves loudly and clearly. With your full names. Then you will confess in front of everyone. I demand a public confession. This is Judgement Day.’

  He giggled.

  Svenja Moers asked. ‘Are we really supposed to—’

  ‘Oh, yes! You should. And you’ll start, Svenja. Then Wilhelm Kaufmann. Loud and clear, so everyone can hear you. We’re watching you. One little mistake and you’ll be blown sky-high.’

  *

  Svenja Moers stood up and called out in a voice that cut through the noise. ‘My name is Svenja Moers! I’m wearing an explosive belt. I’m a prisoner of the executioner! I killed my two husbands – the courts acquitted me! That’s why I’m here now!’

  Her final words were drowned out by the screams. People moved, trying to get as far away from her as possible. Fathers stood in front of their families, mothers hugged their children tight and turned their backs on Svenja Moers, pushing towards the exit. The aisles were clogged immediately.

  Only Rupert remained with them.

  Wilhelm Kaufmann was sitting very calmly, as if used to such situations.

  The redhead with the hook nose oscillated between the impulse to run and the exciting feeling of being a part of something truly big and important for the first time in her life. Finally having something you could tell people about. Exclusive material for her Facebook page.

  She held up her phone and filmed the situation while her friend in the striped summer dress next to her fainted.

  *

  Sylvia Hoppe’s voice quaked. She sounded like an old, fragile woman staring down death. ‘This was a mistake. We shouldn’t have done it. It will be a catastrophe.’

  Büscher called for the bomb squad.

  Ann Kathrin seemed as if she were physically present, but in a completely different place internally. It was as if she were talking to the killer. Very quietly and with utmost concentration. ‘Where are you? What do you have planned, damn it?’

  If I wer
e him, she thought, where would I be directing this from? He is looking to attract as much attention as possible, and could be on the ferry. At the same time, the whole thing will be broadcast via phone, the pictures and clips, faster than any television company could be there with a camera crew. It’ll be unfiltered, and can’t be controlled. But he’s not sitting on the mainland somewhere and drinking a cup of tea. He’s—

  It was as if every pore of her body were giving her information. A chill ran through her body. She raised the phone to her ear while watching Svenja Moers and Wilhelm Kaufmann on the screen, and she dialled Ubbo Heide’s number.

  *

  ‘Can I answer the telephone?’ Ubbo Heide asked.

  Kowalski nodded and played with his gun, like other people play with pens. He was pleased with the situation on the screen. Everything was working exactly as he’d pictured it.

  Now it was Kaufmann’s turn. He also stood up. Then he said, ‘My name is Wilhelm Kaufmann! I’m a former police officer and the man who calls himself the executioner now wants me to say that I murdered children and killed Steffi Heymann and Nicola Billing! But that’s not right! I’m here because we wanted to trap him! And that seems to have worked! But now I’m in the trap, too!’

  He appealed directly to Kowalski. ‘If you blow us up, then it won’t just be this young woman next to me who dies. I will too, and you can believe me when I say I’m innocent! I had nothing to do with the whole thing!’

  ‘What a piece of shit,’ Kowalski cursed. ‘Such a goddamn piece of shit!’

  Ubbo Heide’s wife Carola stood up. It was hard for her to stay on her feet. She reached the phone by the second ring, handing it to her husband by the third. She recognised the name on the screen. Ann. Even reading the letters did her good. It was a connection to the outside world. And she sensed it would save them.

  Ubbo answered in a completely normal voice. ‘This is Ubbo Heide.’

  ‘Ubbo! We’re watching what’s happening on board. Things are getting out of hand! He’s fitted Svenja Moers with an explosive belt.’

  ‘I know.’

  ‘Who is it, damn it?’ Kowalski asked.

  ‘Ann Kathrin Klaasen.’