Heroine: The Husband's Cologne (17 page)

“
Respihydrol -LSD or RSD is a drug that shouldn't even exist. If you’d swallowed, it, this would explain your strange behavior a few minutes ago when I applied the medication.   Essentially it's a more powerful form of LSD.  You know what LSD is, right?”  I nodded.  Actually I didn't, not exactly.  It was drug, that's all I knew. 

“At one time in Switzerland there
were some very promising studies conducted on LSD and its connection to psychosis.  I was an assistant doctor in the psychiatric department at the University of Zürich at the time.  Subsequently we experimented with RSD as well, in an attempt to cure women of psychoses and severe depressions.  However, the research was terminated early on.  Do you know what psychoses are?”  I nodded again.  I was studying psychology after all. My lectures had touched on that matter.

“RSD is only a popular designation, a slang term; really it's a blend of different drugs, not a proper medicinal substance.  We gave it that term because it accelerates the breathing and thereby triggers a feeling of euphoria.  LSD also had that effect, but often with negative results.  Some of those included so-called 'horror trips'. We tried to see what would happen if we added Psilocybin and other drugs to the mix.  Then at some point someone thought of complementing it with a little heroin.  It was a question of micrograms, mind you.  And suddenly, the patient required only a single oral dose and after the first treatment the symptoms vanished.  Not one patient showed signs of withdrawal in subsequent weeks.  Finally, they were released and were left to restart a normal life.  That's when we discovered that even the smallest amount of alcohol or painkillers could trigger a dramatic resurgence of the drug's effects. The women in question all had to be treated with neuroleptics and were never allowed to ingest anything that could lead to another reaction. 

“At that time there was only one scientific report published and it was only in German language, so it probably didn't get the exposure it needed.  Somebody must have gotten wind of the matter, and it got into the wrong hands. 

“When I later worked at a gynecological clinic in Bonn in the nineties, we had numerous cases of women coming in from Eastern Europe with unusual abdominal lesions.  They had been through hell, but could hardly remember a thing about it.  But in spite of their physical damage
they reported enthusiastically on the events of the night, at least until the effects wore off, which typically lasted a few weeks.  Then they collapsed, and had to be treated in a psychiatric hospital for psychosis.  In each case, they had been injected with this filth.  That is why we had originally avoided injections of the drug, because we knew that an addiction could set in if it were to enter the bloodstream directly, especially when combined with heroin.  It was in this way that these women had been subject to all manner of perversions, and were even able to have fun in the process.”

By now my flesh was crawling and I was trembling in the chair.  Paul looked at me and smiled.

“Don't worry, if you had received a dose strong enough to make you sick, I would have noticed it.  You seem to have eliminated most of it.”  I breathed easier at his words.

“
Juliane, please try to understand me.  I am a doctor and I think I'm pretty good at what I do.  My wife and I have sexual fantasies.  We act on them and enjoy doing so with friends.  But these are harmless games.  In cases where other women were involved, it was always clear to us that certain limits were never to be overstepped.  If we had less money, we would simply go to a swinger's club.  Instead, in this manner we can stay within our circle of friends and employ men or women who suit our purposes.  For that we are also willing to pay a little more.  The possibility that somebody like Horst would go off the deep end was never part of the plan.  We had put our trust in him.”  Again he cleared his throat. 

“What you experienced today would never have taken place, had I known about this.  I prescribed something
for you that should calm the swelling and the abrasions quickly.  However, it contains something that could trigger a reaction with RSD, once it reaches the bloodstream.  You become intensely aroused and basically lose your senses.  You must know that LSD works for a time, but then that feeling of losing your inhibitions begins to fade.  That's when bad experiences can occur.  RSD is different.  It always comes with a feeling of dissolution of boundaries and it always feels pleasant.  It causes addiction but in a different way to heroin.  That's what we failed to realize in those days.  You become psychologically dependent.  What's worse: RSD alters the neural pathways in the cerebellum immediately.  There are signals that are shifted, which no researcher was able to discern, until the drug became publically known.  Even when the drug is no longer in your system, the cerebellum retains a memory of the experience and no longer wants to be deprived of it.”  He paused briefly.

“I'm trying to broadly express to you something that is difficult for me to put into words.  Alcohol, painkillers, cortisone or anesthetics like Novocain will spark a remembrance of this experience that is so wonderful as to make people risk their life for it.  At first I thought that it was our experience of that night together that triggered your body reactions. But that wasn't it.  It was the drug.  I’m now ashamed that I took part in that orgy. Please forgive me.  I didn't want to harm you during Saturday night.”  Big sad eyes peered at me from a sunken face.  I gave him a probing look. 

I was calm.  It was clear to me now what had happened.  But I also was convinced that the particular experience I had had of my inhibitions dissolving that night during sex was something I felt well before I was given the drug.  This thought relieved me, because I was now certain that I could induce this feeling in myself consciously whenever I wished.  And it was a sensation that under no circumstances did I want to deny myself. This wish remained. Those heights, the sublime feeling of dissolution, the sensation of flying free of my body.  I told him this.  He looked at me puzzled for a moment, and then smiled genially.

“So you're saying that what happened was not only because of the drug?  That you really wanted it?”

I thought about it for an instant.  I couldn't tell.  The experience had been a spontaneous one.

“Yes, I wanted it because I think you're a nice guy, and I felt some kind of affinity with you,” I lied.  Judging from his expression, it was as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders. 

“We have to leave it here,” he sputtered suddenly in a rush.  “Please stay away from all drugs for the coming months.  Any alcohol, painkillers and so forth are going to recall the memory into the brain.  The effect may not be as strong as that night, but you would certainly lose all your inhibitions.”  He sighed.

“We're going to give this Horst character a good talking to. 
Juliane, we are all wealthy people and have our idiosyncrasies, but we're not animals.  We know how to deal with people like Horst, and we have both the ways and the means to do it.”

“What's going to happen to Tanja?” I asked abruptly.  “She's completely at that pig's mercy and I'm afraid for her.”  Paul looked pensive. 

“I will talk to some people that might be able to help.  Here is my card with my private details.  I only give it out to a handful of patients.  You can reach me day or night, if you need to.”  I looked at him questioningly.

“If
you
are in need,” he said, stressing
you. 
“As far as Tanja is concerned, she will be taken care of by somebody else.” For some more minutes he continued advising me about the drug and it’s effects. In parting, he took me into his arms and kissed me lightly on the cheek.

   Norman's black Volkswagen was parked along the sidewalk in front of the doctor's office.  He sat glowering at the steering wheel.  I got in.

“Five more minutes and I would have stalked in there with my gun cocked.  You took a hell of a long time.”

“Yeah, the waiting room was full and the doctor even had to work through his lunch break to get to everyone,” I said, a feeble attempt to talk my way out of it.

“The funny thing is that not one single person has come out of that place for the last three hours.  And the two women who went in a half hour ago, were certainly not patients!” he said with a snarl.

“You know I could really fall in love with you when you're in one of your moods,” I said laughing at him.  “The doctor tied me to his chair, then for three hours he fucked me silly.  I can hardly walk now,” I said airily. “By the way, he told me that I'm pregnant, with your child.”

He looked at me aghast.

“Are you nuts?  Don't you remember what happened to you last week?  You
really
couldn't walk anymore when you came to me,” he said sharply.  “And don't you ever tell me that you're pregnant with my kid, you hear me?  Ever!”  He was clearly pissed off, and I knew I had gone too far. What the hell was going on in my head?

“What's the matter with you?” he went on. “You're starting to scare me.” His tone was more restrained now.

I gaped at him.

“That was supposed to be a joke; I just wanted to cheer you up after you waited for me for so long.  I'm sorry, I'm an idiot sometimes.” 

He muttered something I couldn't catch and I leaned my head against him.

“Norman, I'm healthy and everything is healing nicely.  The doctor applied some kind of medication and I had to wait until it took effect.  Are you listening to me?  That means we don't have to hold back now.  C'mon, let's go home, I can't wait.”  The ointment the doctor had given me was still working.  If we didn't leave right now, I knew no man would be safe from me here. 

Only when we were at Norman’s front door did I realize that we weren't going back to my apartment.  But there was something I liked about this.  This was his home, and my new home.  As soon as we got into his flat, I pounced on him, kissing him until he was out of breath.  I couldn't and wouldn't wait a second longer.

At first it hurt, but my lust edged the burning pain until finally I surrendered to him.  Even without RSD, ointments, drugs or anything else I could still lose my senses, I thought to myself as I began to surge, but the drug’s effect started to increase my experience. I soared endlessly through the skies.

Then I forbade him from letting me go until late into the night.  Only then did I begin to feel the doctor's soothing ointment’s effect wearing off. 

By the following afternoon we had taken care of everything for my trip, and sat eating together in his little dining nook.  My cell phone rang.  Startled, I looked at the display.  It was Tanja's number.  No sooner had I picked up than she began ranting amid fitful sobs. 

“
Juliane, I'm going crazy.  Horst was arrested.  I'm so afraid and I don't know what to do,” she cried into the phone.  I felt a pang of hot and cold go through me at once. 

“Why was he arrested,” I asked cautiously.

“Something about tax evasion.  The tax authorities were here with the police and they turned the place upside down.  They confiscated all our documents.”

“Wasn't Horst able to contact his lawyer in Bonn?” I asked carefully, mentioning the lawyer by name, which Norman had revealed to me when I’d learned from him about Horst’s real profession.  Wait, why wasn't I happier about this?  The bastard was finally behind bars! Her sobbing suddenly stopped.

“How do you know the name of our lawyer?” Tanja asked.  “Did he mention it on Saturday night?”  Suddenly her voice was no longer tentative.  Oh Jesus, did this mean that the lawyer himself was there that night?

She went on. 

“I called the lawyer but he reacted a little strangely.  His secretary told me that he had resigned, and that we should look for somebody else to represent us.  Juliane, are you behind this?  Did you inform the tax authorities?”

“For heaven's sake, no, I don't have anything to do with this,” I replied, taken aback.

“Ask her if she knows where Igor is,” Norman whispered to me.  Tanja was talking at such a pitch that Horst could hear every word.

“Tanja, is Igor still with you guys?” I asked, cutting into her next crying spell. 

“Igor?  No.  I haven't seen that asshole for days.  And I have no interest in seeing him.  He's the one who got us into this mess.  If Igor hadn't talked Horst into all that dirty shit with those girls, everything would be fine.”  She was obviously drunk again; she only talked like this when she'd had too much. 

“Horst insisted on getting those cheap sluts from Eastern Europe, instead of paying a little more for women around here, as if that much cash could go unnoticed.
Juliane, do you think Igor is behind this?  Do you think he might have turned him in to the cops?”

“I wouldn't put it passed him,” I replied quietly.  “Maybe he saw a way to get rid of Horst and keep the money for himself.”

Tanja was silent for a time.  The tears had stopped. 

“Sweetheart, I'm all alone and I'm afraid.  I miss you.  Now that Horst is gone, you don't have to be scared anymore.  Why don't you come over to my place and we can spend some time together in peace?”

Norman saw my expression, wagged his finger in warning and shook his head.  He had seen right through me.  I had almost caved in.  I felt sorry for Tanja, and I knew how badly she needed help.  But I stood firm, especially since Norman was watching my every move.

“Tanja, I gave up my flat and I don't live in Cologne anymore.  I'm moving to the U.S.,” I said, preempting my departure.  “Even if I wanted to, I couldn't see you.  Please understand.  Don't you have any family that you can turn to?”

This triggered another flurry of sobs, indicating that she didn't. 

“Sweetie, I no longer have anybody.  I'm on my own.  Please don't forget that I love you.”  There was a click; she'd hung up.  I swallowed hard a few times, fighting back my own tears and failing.

When I had composed myself somewhat, I got to thinking.  If Horst's lawyer belonged to the clique that Erich had invited that night, it meant that either Paul or Erich had told this lawyer what was happening.  This worried me.  Hopefully the pimp wouldn't reveal too much when questioned.  I felt panicked just considering the possibility that the entire story could unravel and be leaked to the press.  I resolved to call the lawyer myself.  I had to know what was going on.  After all, we must have gotten intimate enough at some point that I could now address him personally.  But for that I had to wait until I was alone.  I convinced Norman to go out and buy me some groceries, telling him that I wanted to remain in the apartment alone.  He obliged, and as soon as he'd left I phoned information and got the number of the law firm in Bonn. 

“My name is
Juliane, I'm Otto's niece,” I said to the receptionist, referring to the lawyer by his first name.  “Please tell him that he forgot something at uncle Erich's on Saturday night.  It's urgent that I speak with him.” She refused to put me through but assured me that he would call me back, so I gave her my cell phone number.

Five minutes later the phone rang.

“It's Otto.  Juliane my dear, I'm happy to hear your voice again.  How is uncle Erich?”  His laugh was loud and boisterous; he seemed to be in high spirits and enjoying this little game. 

“Otto, I'm in a fix here.  Can I ask you something?” I blurted.

“Paul has already told me everything.  Don't worry about a thing, Horst won't bother you anymore.”  So they
were
both behind this.

“Yes,” I replied, “but I'm afraid.  What happens if he
talks too much and I end up in the newspaper?”

“You really don't have to worry about that.  He knows exactly what would happen to him if he did.  For this tax issue he's going to spend at least a year, if not 15 months, behind bars.  And that's only a taste.  Even if he were to talk, nobody would believe him; he has no proof.  Not a shred of it, believe me.  If he breathes a word, I've informed him that I know all about his activities in Eastern Europe.  He'll take it to the grave; I have no doubts about that.”

I was shocked.  This lawyer knew about the human trafficking and hadn't said anything.  He went on, as if he'd read my mind.

“As far as his escapades in Eastern Europe are concerned, there was nothing I could do.  At the time I had no proof.  It landed on my desk only afterwards.  But please do not ask me why I'm not doing anything about it now.”  There was a lull.

“If I could do something, I would put all gears in motion immediately.  But it's useless for the moment.”  Again silence.

“It was a marvelous evening with you. I experienced such wonderful things.  I hadn't felt like that since I was a young man.  You were so wild I could hardly believe it.”  He sighed.  I could sense where this was leading, and found myself getting aroused by simply hearing it said.

“Can we see each other again?  How about dinner sometime?”  His voice was deep and resonant and I could well imagine...

I heard the door slam shut downstairs. 
Right on time
, I thought, startled. 

“Otto, I did what I did out of love for Erich.  It was
once in a lifetime, that was my agreement with Erich.  Please understand me.  I enjoyed my evening with you, but I can't see you.”  There was another sigh from him.

“Of course, Paul told me as much.  He’s a lucky man, that Erich.  Well alright, in that case I can only thank you for an extraordinary night.  And as I said: don't worry about anything.  Take care.”  A click and he was gone.  The apartment door swung open and Norman entered, carrying a bag full of fruit.  I was sure now that the drugs from Saturday were still in my blood system, because I had gotten wet from that phone call.

“Are you sure you don't want me to stay here?” I asked Norman, after we had finished our evening's escapades.  I felt as light as a feather, after having been nearly crushed under his hefty weight earlier.  We lay together in bed, and I was savoring his scent, the beads of perspiration on his skin and his look.

“Juliane, how many times do I have to tell you?  You can't stay here.  We don't fit together.  After my last breakup I have enough. I want to be single.  You're married to Daniel.  I know he has some unusual sexual preferences, and that's why he lets me sleep with you.”  I winced.  What did Daniel know?  That's right; of course they had both discussed it the first time around.  Norman went on. 

“No need to panic.  We all have our quirks.  He loves you and is alright with you lying in my arms.  But only in
my
arms, because he knows you're safe and will always go back to him.  Juliane, he is my best friend.  If you should stay here with me, I would be betraying him.  So forget about it.

“Last but not least: if you stay in Cologne your life is in danger, it's that simple.  Igor's goons will be out of jail by next week.  Judging from the lengths that they went to the first time around, there must be so much money at stake that they'll pick up right where they left off.  And this time they'll be a lot more careful and covert about it.  I don't want you to wind up with a bag over your head, waking up in the back of a van, never to be found again.  You understand?”

I nodded with eyes agape; my fears resurfaced.  Since I had been staying with Norman, I increasingly felt that I was better protected with him.  If I were to live with him, I could continue my studies, which I had very reluctantly given up this week.  We could spend the days together...

Norman abruptly cut into my thoughts.

“For example, I'm just thinking of the fact that I have to return to Hamburg.  You would be here all alone for the week.  Are you listening to me?  I'm at the university next week with Erich.  I have to assist with an experiment.  That's my job.”

“Why don't you take me with you?  I'm sure Hamburg is lovely,” I replied, and Norman gave a groan. 

“Would you want to spend all day waiting for me in my little rented flat, and then risk crossing paths with Erich or even Horst?  Please, don't make this more difficult than it is.  I like being with you, but I can't spend the next few years protecting you until these goons finally give up the chase.”

“You think they'll be after me for that long?” I asked, frightened again.

“Yes.  If they're losing as much money as I think they are, they're going to want to get even with you at the very least.  So, make sure you get out of here.”  He looked at me sadly now.  “Look, I enjoy being with you.  But sooner or later the honeymoon will wear off and daily life will catch up with us.  You and I are just not compatible.  You're better off with Daniel.”

Even though he had things to do at the university, Norman and I lazed away the next few days together.  One evening I asked him to show me his gun.  He hesitated for a while, and then gave in. 

I was transfixed by the heavy black weapon in my hand.  Norman had first removed the loaded magazine from the handle with an audible click.  Then he peered through the barrel and slowly tested the trigger twice.  Only then did he hand it over to me.