Kowalski grinned, as if he’d thought as much. ‘What does she want?’
‘I assume,’ Ubbo Heide said, ‘she wants to ask her former boss for advice in a difficult situation. Unlike you, Ann Kathrin isn’t resistant to advice.’
‘Pass her to me,’ Kowalski demanded.
Ubbo Heide did what Kowalski asked of him.
‘What can I do for you, Ms. Klaasen?’ Kowalski asked. ‘I’m here with Ubbo Heide. We’re watching what’s happening. We’re not at all pleased with what Wilhelm Kaufmann is saying. Did you tell him to do that? He’s spoiling everything. I wanted a public confession. For all of us. To show our weak justice system how you can make progress by really cracking down. But this is muddying the waters. Either way, the two of them must die. Tell him to shut up!’
‘Kaufmann is clever,’ Ann Kathrin answered. ‘He’s making you look like a fool, Kowalski. He’s showing the man who calls himself the executioner that he’s actually a pitiful amateur. You don’t actually care if you execute the right people or the wrong ones. In the end, there’s just a bloodbath if we make justice arbitrary. Only a proper court can convict Kaufmann.’
Kowalski didn’t want to get into this kind of discussion. He was afraid he’d leave the zone. This wonderful, well-planned attack was to be a glorious triumph, not a sloppy compromise.
‘If you want to bring about a world free of criminals, Mr Kowalski, then it’d only be consistent for you to slit your own wrists now. You’d be setting a good example. Maybe there would be imitators. These days any idiot can find imitators.’
Ubbo Heide motioned to Carola and she immediately understood what he wanted. Kowalski was so distracted by the action on the ship, which he was following on the monitor, and by the conversation with Ann Kathrin Klaasen, that he lost sight of his duffle bag.
Carola picked up the bag and carried it to the kitchen. It was heavy and there was the sound of metal clinking together. She undid the zip and saw a Samurai sword and an automatic gun.
Carola carefully placed the bag on the kitchen floor and, trying to make as little noise as possible, pushed it under the table so he wouldn’t see it immediately.
She took the big bread knife from the knife block.
Yes, she was prepared to fight.
Ubbo Heide hoped the tea was still hot enough. He poured it as if at a tea party. Then he motioned to the fresh peppermint leaves in the middle of the table for a little assistance. Kowalski, despite the tense situation, did as his mother had taught him and politely helped the old man. While talking with Ann Kathrin Klaasen, he leaned over and pushed the peppermint leaves in Ubbo Heide’s direction. He barked into the telephone, ‘Ms. Klaasen, don’t think that you can—’
He didn’t get any further, because the hot East Frisian tea landed in his face.
He dropped the telephone and screamed. He flailed his arms furiously, but there was no one there to hit.
‘You goddamn idiot!’ he yelled. Then he launched himself at Ubbo Heide, grabbed him by the throat and choked him. ‘You stupid old man!’
*
‘He’s with Ubbo! All available units immediately to Ubbo Heide’s house! Ann Kathrin screamed.
*
Kowalski grabbed Ubbo Heide’s collar with both hands and lifted him out of his wheelchair until they were eye to eye.
‘We could have been such a good team. But you don’t want that! Don’t think you can hold me back. I want to blow up those two criminals now, finishing what you started, old man.’
The way Kowalski said those words it sounded like he was giving Ubbo Heide a generous present.
He let go of Ubbo, who tried to hold on, but fell next to the wheelchair. His bottom hit the floor hard and his head hit against a rubber wheel.
That very moment, Carola Heide drove the bread knife into Kowalski’s back with all her strength. Then she let it go with a scream.
Kowalski turned around to her very slowly, as if he couldn’t understand what had just happened. He reached for his back, trying to pull out the knife, but wasn’t able to reach it. Then he fell forward, toppling over Ubbo Heide.
Ubbo hit him with a punch to his left temple as he went.
Carola, still screaming, stamped her foot on the carpet. ‘I stabbed him in the back with a knife! I stabbed him in the back with a knife!’
Ubbo said, ‘Carola, go into the kitchen and get the packing tape! We need to tie him up. This is an arrest!’
His words immediately calmed her and she went to the kitchen, as if in a trance. She didn’t have to look long in her well-organised household. She immediately found the packing tape and a pair of scissors. The knife moved back and forth as Ubbo tied Kowalski’s hands behind his back.
‘Did I kill him?’
‘No,’ Ubbo answered calmly, ‘I wouldn’t be tying him up if you had. It’s a flesh wound at the most. He’s bleeding a lot, but—’
‘I feel sick,’ Carola said.
‘You’re allowed to,’ Ubbo smiled. He shoved Kowalski off him, who was now was lying on his stomach on the floor and cursing. ‘What kind of goddamn idiot are you! You’ve ruined everything!’
Ubbo pulled himself up on the table so he was sitting upright on the floor. He pressed the button on the screen and made contact with Svenja Moers. ‘This is Ubbo Heide speaking. You don’t have to be afraid. I have the perpetrator in custody. He was arrested just now. He is no longer able to trigger the explosives. Please calm down and take a seat. A specialist will come and free you from your explosive belt.’
*
It was more a falling than a sitting down. Svenja Moers suddenly felt that all the blood was rushing from her brain and upper body into her legs as she flopped onto the chair.
*
‘It’s over,’ Ann Kathrin celebrated. ‘Over! The rest is a job for the specialists!’
‘Where’s our bomb squad?’ Büscher asked into his phone.
‘On their way to Langeoog by helicopter.’
‘That means the ferry has to dock first, and then—’
‘It won’t work any other way.’
Ann Kathrin called Ubbo first. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Fabulous. I could use a tea, and a little marzipan wouldn’t go amiss. This was all a little too much for my stomach.’
He was already back to his old jokes.
Ann Kathrin checked in with Weller. ‘The ferry is about to dock. First of all we have to let all the tourists disembark. Only our people, Svenja Moers and Wilhelm Kaufmann will remain. Then our explosives specialists can go on board and free them. It’s over.’
‘Is the scumbag still alive?’ Weller asked.
‘Yes,’ Ann Kathrin said, ‘and now he’ll have to answer to the justice system. We’ll see if he still thinks it’s too soft.’
Ann Kathrin turned to Rupert. ‘Stay very close to those two and keep them calm. They should move as little as possible and not touch the explosive belt. Our people will be handling everything. No going it alone—’
‘The two of them are in the best of hands with me,’ Rupert promised, bowing and asking the half-conscious Svenja Moers, ‘How are you doing?’
Svenja Moers coughed.
‘Could be worse,’ Rupert said. ‘Our people will come and take off the belt any second now, and then it’s all over for you. By contrast, if I even think about what kind of paperwork we’ll have to deal with for this operation!’ He waved it away. ‘I can’t even imagine all the files that will be coming our way now!’
Kaufmann leaned over to Rupert, pointed to the package in his hands and said ‘Just shut your trap, Rupert, and go and get us a drink!’
‘I’m not actually the waiter here, but of course I’ll make an exception.’ Rupert reflected. After all, he knew how many people were listening in. ‘A beer? What would you like?’
‘I think Mrs Moers needs some water, and I could use a shot.’
‘Me too,’ Rupert admitted.
Above them, they heard the sound of a helicopter’
s rotor blades bringing the explosives specialist to Langeoog.
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Klaus-Peter Wolf was born in Gelsenkirchen in 1954. He is a freelance writer and his books and films have won numerous awards. So far, he has been translated into twenty-four languages and sold over nine million copies. More than sixty of his scripts have been made into films.
First published in Great Britain in 2020 by Zaffre
This ebook edition published in 2020 by
ZAFFRE
80-81 Wimpole St, London, W1G 9RE
Copyright © Klaus-Peter Wolf, 2020
Cover design by Dominic Forbes
Cover image © Silas Manhood/Arcangel
The moral right of Wilbur Smith to be identified as Author of this work has been asserted in accordance with the Copyright,
Designs and Patents Act, 1988.
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, organisations, places and events are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
A CIP catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library.
ISBN: 978-1-78658-035-1
Paperbook ISBN: 978-1-78658-034-4
This ebook was produced by IDSUK (Data Connection) Ltd
Zaffre is an imprint of Bonnier Books UK
www.bonnierbooks.co.uk
The Oath Page 43
