Hidden Depths (15 page)

‘And look after this one!' Bernd told him. ‘That's the third Herbertz knife I've bought you in 10 years.'

‘Thanks Onkel Bernd. I'll try not to lose this one.'

Felix knew he'd lost the first one at the scene of the crime when he was with Lotte Holler and a second one had fallen overboard into the lake at Motzen. Felix felt it was an omen that he wasn't meant to own such a prestigious knife. Possibly, it brought him bad luck and he'd made do for several years with a marine knife of a lesser brand and quality.

Ingrid noticed Felix's discomfort at Bernd's gift. He couldn't hide things easily from her, she knew him too well. She noticed his nuances, his mood swings and tonight she knew something was troubling him. Her instincts were often right and began to feel worried about him. It was time they had a private talk. Not tonight though, let him enjoy his birthday.

Jens was thinking along the same lines. He'd heard the news about The Lady of the Lake awakening from her coma and that it was his ex-Torgau colleague, that notorious bitch Lotte Holler. Jens and Felix had not spoken about Torgau since Susanne's funeral, although in the beginning of Felix's relationship with his daughter Martha he used to advise her how to handle a boy from Torgau. Jens didn't intend mentioning anything about their shared Torgau past with his son-in-law, and certainly not on his birthday, not unless Felix wanted to talk about it. It was a subject that was best left, dead and buried.

Instead, Jens patted his son-in-law on the back. ‘Well, young Felix, how's it feel to be 30?'

‘No different to yesterday,' Felix joked.

‘Angele and I hope you like your present from us. I thought now you have entered another decade, you might appreciate a night at the opera,' Jens said, passing Felix an envelope.

Felix opened the envelope and pulled out a pair of tickets. To his dismay, they were for Carmen. The last time Felix had heard The Toreador song was on the banks of Muggelsee with Lotte Holler. He never wanted to be reminded of that night or hear the music again and he'd thrown away his recording of the aria in an attempt to forget.

‘Thank you, Jens,' he said, trying to hide his feelings of discomfort.

‘You're welcome. It's on at the Berlin Opera House so you'll have to wear a tuxedo. I rather like the Toreador song, and if my French is up to scratch, I believe the chorus translates as something like, “Toreador be ready, dream even when you're fighting, that a black eye is watching you” – that's the black eye of the bull – “and love awaits you, Toreador”. I hope you'll love it as much as I do,' Jens enthused.

‘I'll go and find Angele to thank her,' said Felix, trying to make a quick escape.

But Jens noticed Felix's discomfort and glancing down at his hands saw they showed signs of eczema.

‘Felix, you know if there's anything troubling you, I'm here for you. You're like a son to me and if you want talk it'll be between us,' Jens told him.

‘I'm OK, but it's good to know,' Felix replied and hugged Jens.

Approaching midnight. Martha led Felix onto the dance floor.

‘Peonie's asleep in the back office. Gisela's watching over her.'

‘It's been a long day for her. I'm tired too.'

‘I'm not surprised. How many beers have you had?'

‘I've lost count. I haven't had a drink in ages and it's my party!' he declared. ‘I've had a great day. Thank you, sweetheart.' ‘Don't thank me, Ingrid and Axel planned it. They love you… everyone loves you,' Martha told him with pride.

A happy Felix squeezed his wife's arm. ‘I'm very lucky to have such a lovely family. It'll be your 30th in the summer.'

‘Don't remind me, we're all getting old.'

‘Martha, I'll love you at 90. You're beautiful, whatever your age. But what shall I give the girl who has everything?' he joked. ‘I think I'll take you away, just you and me, to some exotic beach where it's nice and hot. What do you say?'

‘That would be nice. So, tell me, when you blew out the candles on your cake, what did you wish for?' Martha whispered in his ear.

Felix kissed her. ‘I've all that I could ever have wished for, right here in my arms. I love you.'

‘I love you, too.'

They kissed again and rested their foreheads together.

‘Surely you want something?' she asked. ‘I mean, you don't think there's anything missing from our lives?'

Felix shook his head. ‘I'm the luckiest man alive to have you and Peonie.'

‘Maybe there's more to come,' said Martha, unable to keep her precious, six week old secret to herself one moment longer. ‘Because, my darling, our holiday will have to wait until next year. Hopefully, I've saved the best birthday present until last: we're having another baby.'

Chapter Twenty
-one: Standards

D
R
J
ONAS
R
OTH ARRIVED
AT
Berlin's Brandenburg gate police station first thing on Monday morning carrying a briefcase. He took the lift to the fifth floor and marched into Chief Detective Kruger's office, slamming the door behind him. In the room was Kruger's colleague Detective Stefan Glockner, a dark-haired man in his 30s of medium build and height, sporting a goatee beard. He was dressed in a favourite brown suede jacket, sitting in an armchair close to the window, mulling over a case file and drinking coffee.

Kruger and Glockner both sat upright at the abrupt intrusion.

Dr Roth was fuming. ‘Detective Kruger! What on earth's going on?'

Kruger was flummoxed. ‘Sorry?'

‘I thought I made it very clear that any of Lotte's details you released to the press were going to be censored but yesterday the Lady in the Lake was the lead story on the television news!'

‘Do you want me to leave?' Glockner asked his superior, half rising from his chair.

‘No, you stay. I need someone to witness this outburst.'

Glockner sat down.

‘Herr Doktor. Don't come barging into my office accusing me of God knows what. Yes, we agreed, the press would be drip fed to avoid a media circus – and it's Chief Detective Inspector Kruger to you,' he added, churlishly.

Jonas slammed a newspaper down on Kruger's desk. Lotte Holler was front page news.

‘And this? What have you got to say about this, Chief Detective Inspector?'

The newspaper headline jumped out at them:
LADY OF THE LAKE WAS PREGNANT.

‘Damn!' Jonas bellowed.

Kruger glanced at the headlines. ‘I didn't tell the media a bloody thing!'

Jonas felt indignant. ‘It's an invasion of privacy!' he shouted.

Glockner stepped in calmly. ‘If I recall, back in 1992 when the crime took place the press somehow got hold of the victims' details about her pregnancy. It'd be worth considering if it was the staff in the hospital who told the press or if the journalists simply looked back in the archives.'

The idea momentarily stopped Jonas in his tracks.

Kruger could always count on Glockner's logic. ‘Dr Roth, this is my colleague Detective Glockner who is assisting me on the case.'

Glockner nodded and shook the doctor's hand.

‘Unfortunately when the media have a story to tell they have a habit of sensationalising, and Lotte Holler's private life is merely fodder for them,' continued Kruger.

‘I'll investigate whether it was leaked by hospital staff, but it stops now!' Dr Roth insisted. ‘It was an invasion of the family's private grief. Isn't it enough that someone spends years in a coma? Yesterday it was all over the television news and today it's in the morning papers and the whole country knows Lotte Holler was pregnant and lost her baby.'

‘As I said, some clever journo probably looked back to the attack in 1992,' Kruger reassured the doctor. ‘After all, this was common knowledge at the time.'

The tense atmosphere in the room began to ease.

‘Julia – Frau Kessler, Lotte's sister – was upset by it all. She was in tears yesterday at the hospital. Lotte must be protected,' Dr Roth insisted. ‘She's very fragile.'

‘Please pass on my apologies to Frau Kessler,' Kruger said sincerely. ‘We don't want the patient or her family upset.'

The doctor nodded appreciatively. ‘Thank you.'

‘Can I get you a coffee?' Glockner asked.

‘No, thanks, I'm due at the hospital. I believe I'm meeting your colleague Hanne Drais this afternoon. I've arranged for Frau Kessler to be present and then the process of interviewing Lotte can begin. Thank you for your time. Good day.'

Jonas left the room in a civilised manner, closing the door quietly behind him. He'd been incensed on Julia's behalf with the media coverage. As Lotte's doctor, he understood the ramifications of the media intruding on her fragile psyche but it was really Julia he wanted to protect. Jonas kept his growing but unspoken feelings for her private but even so, he didn't want Julia hounded by the press for photos, interviews and statements in her role as next of kin to the victim. On his way back to the hospital, he felt a bit embarrassed about how he'd handled himself in front of the detectives but at least they were now under no illusions that this case had to be handled with sensitivity or they'd have him to deal with.

Kruger and Glockner simultaneously let out a huge release of air.

‘Fuck that for a Monday morning briefing,' Kruger exclaimed. ‘Who the hell did he think he was, storming into my office like that?'

‘Doughnut, chief?' Glockner asked. ‘I feel like something sweet.'

‘Yeah, and while you're raiding the staff canteen, get Drais in here.'

Carrying a small tray with an assortment of biscuits and pastries, Glockner bumped into Hanne in the corridor.

‘Kruger wants you in his office, now,' he told her. ‘We've just had Lotte Holler's doctor in, shouting and stamping his feet at the press intrusion. Be warned, Kruger might be a little grumpy.'

‘Nothing new there,' Hanne remarked, looking at the tray of goodies. ‘I see you want to sweeten him up?'

‘One of us has to. Here, Drais, have a doughnut,' Glockner said, placing one gently into Hanne's open mouth.

Hanne wasn't in the best frame of mind. She had a hangover from her outing last night with her friends where she had met Brigitte, her blind date, and they'd got on well and agreed to meet up again. To steady her nerves Hanne had drunk too much beer and was now suffering the consequences of her over-indulgence. At breakfast, Audrey had enthusiastically asked her lots of questions which Hanne was not in the mood for. All she wanted to do was return to her bed and mother and daughter had parted company on grumpy terms.

Hanne went into Kruger's office in an apprehensive frame of mind.

‘Drais, there you are. Grab a seat, a coffee and a cake,' Kruger said.

His pastries were mostly all gone and only a few biscuits were left over. Stefan had doughnut sugar all over his goatee beard. Hanne passed him a tissue and he wiped his face. They were like brother and sister, friends one minute, arguing the next, and as colleagues on good, collaborative terms. With their mutual, dry sense of humour there was rarely a dull moment.

‘I've had one, thanks. Got to watch my figure.'

Hanne looked at Kruger. Best he said nothing.

‘Right.' Kruger began reading information from the open file on his desk. ‘This is what we have… You've both read the files, haven't you?'

Hanne and Glockner nodded.

‘OK. In the winter of 1992, Lotte Holler was found unconscious after blows to the left side of her forehead. She was found the following morning by a dog walker, on the back of her car, an old, red VW Polo Estate on the banks of Muggelsee, near Kopenick.'

They all perused some gruesome photos of Lotte Holler taken at the crime scene.

‘Blows to the left side at the front would indicate the assailant was right handed,' Glockner said. ‘Do we have any idea what object caused the injury?'

Kruger shook his head. ‘A hard, blunt object, not a rock but possibly the handle of a gun. The victim's clothes had been cut and shredded. Her clothes and coat had been placed over her like a blanket, indicating someone else had dressed her. Her mobile phone was right beside her and her handbag hadn't been touched. There were no signs of sexual assault, nor after examination was there any evidence of sexual intercourse.'

‘So we can rule out theft, rape and a sexual motive,' Stefan stated.

‘I think so,' said Kruger. ‘Although her clothes were cut off her at some point.'

‘Sounds like the assailant asked her to strip, possibly to make her feel the cold and be afraid for her life,' Glockner suggested.

‘Or to humiliate her, you get control by humiliation,' Hanne ventured. ‘Maybe that's why he asked her to dance.'

‘Yeah, dancing on ice! OK, we'll agree there was some sort of power struggle going on,' Kruger said.

‘There's the old adage that most murders or attempted murders usually have a sexual or financial motive,' Glockner added. ‘So if it's not sexual, maybe it was about money, some sort of blackmail?'

‘Unlikely,' Kruger replied. ‘Lotte was a security guard working at Karstadt and living in rented accommodation in Kreuzberg. Hardly the sort to be blackmailed.'

‘Not far from where I live now,' Hanne observed. ‘No, not much money in my area and even less back then.'

‘No, and you're not due a pay rise,' Kruger said, trying to read between the lines.

Hanne did not react to her boss's gibe.

Stefan perused a different avenue. ‘A large percentage of women who are attacked know their assailant.'

‘I'm certain they had met before, even if Lotte didn't know who it was – he was probably wearing a mask,' Hanne explained. ‘It's about revenge and the man wanted to punish her.'

Kruger shook his head. ‘The bastard did a damn good job of punishing her. Putting her in a long term coma is a pretty severe kind of revenge.'

‘I believe he set out to kill her but for some reason couldn't go through with it,' mused Hanne. ‘He even left her mobile phone beside her in case she woke up to call for help. That's a big U-turn – but why? He went to a lot of trouble kidnapping her in Berlin and taking her to Muggelsee, planning it down to the smallest detail.'

Kruger frowned and scratched the stubble on his chin. ‘But if he didn't plan to kill her, why be so violent?'

‘Violence equals control,' Hanne began. ‘I think he changed his mind and was torn. Of course he could have helped her if he didn't want her to die, and he could have called an ambulance instead of leaving her overnight to freeze in a car. But in case Lotte did survive he left her with access to a phone and dressed her to give her half a chance. My guess is he didn't care about the outcome in the end and left Lotte's fate in the lap of the gods.'

‘Fine, we agree that Lotte knew her attacker. What about an ex-lover?' Glockner asked. ‘I believe the father of her child was a married man, so he'll be worth revisiting.'

Kruger stated. ‘In 1992, Lotte's married lover was ruled out at the time with a cast iron alibi.'

‘That doesn't surprise me,' Hanne began. ‘Besides, I don't believe it was a crime of passion. There's every indication that Lotte Holler was afraid, which is why the music freaked her out. When a victim is afraid, the assailant is more likely to be a stranger to them but often a stranger who knew her and had something against her, if that makes sense.'

‘Maybe a work colleague, then?' Stefan suggested. ‘We can get hold of all the old timesheets, records of Lotte's colleagues at Karstadt, see if anyone had a grudge against her and take a fresh look at it from that angle.'

‘OK. So, let's look at what clues were left at the scene of the crime,' Kruger stated. ‘A Herbertz boat knife, with special attachments, was found under the wheel of the car, and some boat rope was left on the ground near the water.'

‘That could have been there already. It's a lake, people fish at lakes,' Glockner pointed out.

‘Obviously your papa never took you fishing,' Kruger replied. ‘It was too cold for fishing! The boat knife and its leather sheath was the only piece of evidence that had unidentified fingerprints on it. We've kept it at our forensics storage unit along with Lotte's car. Back then, we didn't have a criminal DNA data base but now, thanks to some Oxford professor, we do.'

‘I think you'll find that Sir Alex Jeffreys, who discovered the variations in DNA in genetic fingerprinting back in the mid 1980s, went to Oxford but is actually a professor at the University of Leicester,' Glockner smirked.

‘Know-it-all,' Kruger said. ‘Take that smug look off your face.'

‘Will you two stop throwing your dummies out of the pram?' Hanne told them.

‘Drais, we're enjoying ourselves,' Kruger explained and quickly returned to his notes. ‘The boat knife had a minuscule strand of anchor rope attached to a lanyard. It's possible the knife belonged to the assailant and he works with boats, angling, or aquatic sports, something of that nature.'

‘So, we're looking for a Marine Boy,' Glockner announced.

‘Hey, everyone, that's our new nickname for our assailant – Marine Boy,' confirmed Kruger. ‘An opera-loving Marine Boy!'

Hanne ignored the two of them. ‘Did forensics pick up any fibres in Lotte's car?'

‘It'll all be gone over again,' Kruger said. ‘Of course, there's the risk of cross contamination after all these years.'

‘I'm meeting Dr Roth and Frau Kessler at the hospital this afternoon,' Hanne reminded them.

‘Well, you'd better mind your manners with Lotte's doctor. He came in here first thing this morning, shouting the odds. I think he's programmed like the Terminator Two – a robot, protecting Lotte Holler at all costs.'

Glockner piped up. ‘Yeah, you should've been here with Dr Caveman.'

‘Whatever you do, Drais, don't talk to the fucking press,' Kruger added.

‘There's a small number that camp daily outside the hospital entrance,' Stefan added.

‘I've no intention of talking to anyone about the case outside of this office. I'll use a different entrance,' Hanne told them.

‘Well, Drais, what's your gut feeling?' Kruger asked.

‘What really intrigues me about this case is what incensed this man to attack Lotte Holler in this violent way,' she said.

‘Marine Boy might just be some kind of a nutcase,' Glockner ventured.

Drais was adamant. ‘No, Stefan, he's not some random nutcase. And if I'm right about them knowing one another, maybe Lotte did something to provoke her assailant and whatever it was, precipitated the attack – not that I'm condoning it.'