Time Heals No Wounds (19 page)

T
HURSDAY
N
IGHT

Hannes trudged through the garden to Ben’s cottage, which was shrouded in complete darkness. A crunching underfoot told him that little Nicolas’s sand shovel had bit the dust. He would have to replace it another day.

He opened the door and turned on the light. He looked in every room to make sure he was actually alone and Ben wasn’t passed out somewhere. He took his shoes off and was about to take a shower when his cell phone rang.

“Hey, Fritz, what’s up? Just got home.”

“You haven’t returned the patrol car yet, have you?”

“Nope, didn’t get a chance. I’m exhausted, sorry.”

“No problem,” Fritz said and chuckled. “The station just called, and I told them that you’d be bringing the car back tomorrow. Now Torsten and his partner have to cram themselves into the oldest car we have in the lot. I love the thought of that!” He was downright cheerful.

“Did you track down Ternheim?” Hannes asked as he wrestled out of his clothes.

“Yup! You’ll be surprised to hear where. How’s it going with you?”

As usual, Fritz knew how to make Hannes curious by withholding actual information; and Hannes knew that asking Fritz questions only made him withhold longer.

“Good,” Hannes said. He reluctantly postponed his shower and sat down naked on the cool floor. “Anna Stahl really gave us something to work with. She had more to offer than I expected. Did you know, for example, that Ms. Ternheim had a relationship with Ms. Wagner? Or that in the last few weeks she was contacted by a Mark von Wittenberg? Or that she had been digging into Lagussa’s past and found something her brother didn’t particularly like. And—”

“Wait, wait. You seem to have hit the mother lode. Where are you?”

“I’m still at Ben’s.”

“Okay, I’ll be right over. Can we talk somewhere private?”

Hannes wanted a quick shower first. “No problem. Ben’s not home yet, but even if he does show up, we can go in the guest room. When will you be here?”

“Ten minutes,” Fritz said and hung up.

Hannes quickly jumped into the shower. The day’s colorful images flashed through his mind, making him lose track of time. He turned off the water and wrapped a towel around his waist. Still dripping, he stepped out into the hallway only to run into Fritz.

“Ah, so that’s what a model athlete looks like,” Fritz teased. “Well, take your time getting dressed. I’ll wait for you on the patio.”

Hannes went into the guest room and rummaged through what Ben had packed for him yesterday. Earlier that afternoon, he had quickly pulled out his gym clothes and didn’t stop to take a look at the remaining contents of the bag.

He pulled out his oldest pair of jeans and a black T-shirt but could find no underwear. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he said and opened the outer side pocket. He found two pairs of long underwear and opened the other side pocket. All he found was a baseball cap he hadn’t worn in years. “That’s great, Ben,” he said. “Should I use my hat as a loincloth?”

Without thinking twice, he walked into Ben’s bedroom. Ben did say Hannes could use whatever he needed, which hopefully included a fresh pair of underwear.

He began to open Ben’s drawers at random, even though it seemed a little wrong to him. There was no underwear, although he did find some dog food. Then Hannes opened the last drawer. Maybe Ben didn’t use underwear? That would explain why he hadn’t packed any in Hannes’s bag.

Hannes noticed Ben’s nightstand had a drawer. He pulled it open and was amazed! Peeking out of a plastic bag at the rear of the drawer were two large stacks of twenty-euro notes. He shook his head in wonder. There had to be several thousand euros here. He knew Ben didn’t have any financial worries, but why was he hoarding so much money?

Hannes left Ben’s bedroom with a doubly guilty conscience. Not only had he rummaged through his personal belongings, but he had also discovered the cash. However, he had other problems at the moment, and his lack of underwear proved secondary. He hastily slipped on his T-shirt and stepped into his jeans, trying to ignore the unusual feeling. He opened the front door.

“Did you go clothes shopping?” Fritz joked.

“No, no,” Hannes said. “Ben packed my bag a bit haphazardly, and I had to sort everything out.”

“When does he get back?”

“No idea, he could be here any minute.”

Fritz stood up. “Then let’s do this as quickly as possible. Shall we go into the living room?”

Hannes shook his head. “We can sit out here. The owners of the big house are on vacation, so there’s no one around.” He slumped into a chair and stretched his legs out.

“What a long day, huh?” Fritz said and fell back into his seat too. “Tell me how your meeting with the executive assistant went.”

Hannes recounted his evening at the Chameleon and Anna’s temporary move. He left out the flirting and personal interactions between them.

When Hannes finished, Fritz was silent. “You definitely did the right thing,” he finally said. “Maybe the threat was just a stupid prank that has nothing to do with the case, but you never know. Anyway, she should be careful over the next few days, and we should keep an eye on her. You’re the best man for the job.” He winked at Hannes. “Do you think Ms. Stahl told you everything or does she know more?”

“I’m pretty sure she told me everything.”

“Well, this is very interesting information. The fog surrounding Helene Ternheim is slowly beginning to clear. Her relationship with Ms. Wagner and its subsequent cooling off is certainly news to me. At least now I understand why the head secretary is so tight-lipped. If this story got out, it would be the scandal of the year among the staff! Does Ms. Ternheim’s brother know about their special relationship?”

“I have no idea.” Hannes was angry that he had left some questions unanswered. “I’ll ask Ms. Stahl tomorrow.”

“Do that. Christian Ternheim seems very suspicious to me. His reaction to his sister’s death seems strange. He also didn’t report her disappearance until much later. Now we know he threatened her before her death. That brings me to something else I’d like to share with you. As you know, Ms. Wagner contacted me this afternoon to report the head of the company missing. So I went directly to the company’s headquarters, because the missing-person report was a good excuse to talk with Ms. Wagner in private. Unfortunately, I went about it the wrong way, thinking I could charm her. She’s definitely outstanding in her role as the discreet, loyal secretary and left me banging my head against the wall. Her concern for Christian Ternheim seems to be genuine. She practically pleaded with me to launch an immediate search.”

“And? Where did you start?”

“Where was I supposed to start? It was clearly too early for an official missing-person report, and I assumed he was having a tough time coping with his sister’s death, even if he didn’t show it. So I chose to do something else first. Since I still have the spare key to Helene Ternheim’s penthouse, I stopped by again to take one more look around. I hoped I’d get a better idea of who this woman was and could focus on things I had previously overlooked. It’s often worked for me before. As I entered the living room, I made an interesting discovery: a picture had been removed from the wall and was lying on the table, and in front of the open safe was Christian Ternheim!”

Fritz took pleasure in seeing Hannes’s curious fidgeting. He closed his eyes before continuing.

“May I ask what you’re doing?” Fritz had said.

Christian Ternheim had turned around, startled. “What are you doing here?” he said and smoothed his suit. “You can’t just waltz in here.”

Fritz strolled into the room, casually swinging the key to the apartment. He peered over Ternheim’s shoulder into the vault and noticed jewelry boxes and several sheets of paper before Ternheim slammed the door.

“Well, you were the one who had a copy made for me. As you can see, we take the investigation of this case very seriously. Have you found what you were looking for?” Fritz asked.

“What makes you think that I’ve been looking for something?” Ternheim said.

“Ah.” Fritz shrugged. “It just seemed like you were. You were so engrossed in your search that you failed to hear the front door open. Now tell me about this safe in your sister’s apartment.”

“Helene only kept personal items in it.”

“Exactly. And maybe some of these items could shed light on the events of last weekend.”

Ternheim shot the detective a dirty look. “Please, take a look and see if her jewelry or birth certificate might help you in your investigation. I have to leave now, anyway.” He grabbed a laptop bag from the table before heading into the hallway.

Fritz looked with interest at the bulky bag and then said, “By the way, Ms. Wagner is very worried about you because she hasn’t been able to reach you. You should have left her a message!”

Mr. Ternheim muttered and slammed the front door.

“And? What was in the safe?” Hannes asked.

“Exactly what Mr. Ternheim said. Jewelry and various documents, but nothing of much use to us. The question is: What was in the safe before Christian Ternheim showed up?”

“Maybe it was the contents of the bag that Anna . . . um, Ms. Stahl accidentally knocked over in Helene Ternheim’s office a couple of weeks ago?”

“I don’t think that’s too far-fetched. After being threatened by her brother, Ms. Ternheim certainly wouldn’t have left these things out in the open. Too bad he knew about the safe.”

“Do you really think her own brother—”

“Mr. Ternheim lives only for his company. And he thought the company was in danger. So it wouldn’t hurt to devote a little more attention to him. So here’s what we’ll do tomorrow: check out this art agent and speak to Ms. Stahl again. Then, do some digging into Lagussa’s past. There are certainly lots of documents and publications on the Nazi era which deal with the company’s role back then. I’ll have another conversation with Christian Ternheim and Ms. Wagner, and I’ll handle Ms. Stahl’s statements with the necessary care. I don’t want to have to see another woman’s body on the medical examiner’s table.”

“What about the man Ms. Ternheim frequently interacted with?”

“That’s right, Mark von Wittenberg! It’s unclear what kind of role he plays. I’ll do a background check on him tomorrow and try to track him down.”

“If Christian Ternheim’s behind his sister’s death, then the tattoo on her arm makes sense,” Hannes said. “Ultimately, the rift between them was caused by Ms. Ternheim’s research into the company’s Nazi past. Mr. Ternheim wanted to keep all this covered up, and maybe he tattooed his sister as a kind of punishment. The numbers remind me of what was done to the prisoners of the concentration camps.”

“Yeah, but you said he wants to bury the past. Why would he call attention to the company’s dark history?”

All of a sudden Socks came out of nowhere and jumped onto Hannes’s lap, licking his face. He then did the same to Fritz, enthusiastically wagging his tail.

“Hello! Do we have guests?” Ben appeared on the patio.

“Hi, Ben, this is Fritz Janssen, my boss,” Hannes said.

“Just Fritz,” he said and shook Ben’s hand. He carefully studied him, eyeing his dreadlocks, eyebrow piercing, and slight beard.

“What a night,” said Ben. “Two police officers on my patio. It’s not every day this happens.”

“No need to worry,” said Fritz. “I was about to leave, anyway, then there’ll only be one officer keeping an eye on this beautiful property.”

“Oh, stay as long as you like, it’s no bother,” Ben said. “There’s some beer in the fridge. The perfect thing for such a beautiful summer evening.”

“No, thanks, I have to drive,” Fritz said.

“One beer? Even a detective could still drive after one beer . . .”

Hannes was surprised at how quickly Fritz accepted and leaned back in his chair.

“Great,” Ben said. “Be right back!”

Hannes followed him inside and caught up with him in the kitchen.

“Say, Ben,” he whispered. “You kept what I told you last night about the dead woman to yourself, right?”

Ben turned around in astonishment. “Sure, man! You told me not to tell. I didn’t even mention it to the people in my group. Why?”

“Well . . . There was an article in the paper this morning and—”

“You can’t be serious! I’d never tell the press or anyone else.”

“Of course you wouldn’t,” Hannes said in embarrassment. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“You should chill out,” Ben said, shaking his head. “Police work’s probably made you paranoid. Friends stick together. Even though I might be a little unconventional and some might think I’m crazy, you can always count on me. Okay, why don’t you take a couple of beers outside. Your detective looks a little thirsty; one bottle won’t do the trick.”

How right Ben was. Half an hour later, Fritz put his empty bottle on the ground and cracked open another.

Ben grinned at Hannes. “Tough day, Detective?” he teased Fritz.

“When isn’t a day tough?” Fritz said, scratching Socks behind the ears.

“At least you’ve got a fan,” Hannes said, pointing to Socks.

“I’ve always gotten along with dogs. Except once when I wasn’t too careful approaching a Rottweiler.” He pointed to the scar on his face. “I still carry around a memento from the encounter. But my love of dogs wasn’t affected.”

“How come you don’t have your own?” Ben asked.

“I’d love to, but with my strange work hours, I’d never be able to keep up.” Fritz looked at Socks’s black collar, which read “I bite Nazi asses.” He grinned at Ben. “So you already trained your dog in your holy war?”

“Unfortunately, Socks’s bite reflex doesn’t even work on cats. If he came across a group of skinheads, he’d probably run away or lick their hands.”

The conversation turned to the neo-Nazi scene. Fritz and Ben agreed that simply monitoring it would be totally irresponsible, though their means of dealing with it varied.

“You can’t stand up for freedom, tolerance, and justice and break the law yourself,” Fritz said.

“Unfortunately our laws sometimes protect the wrong side. Besides, no one pays attention to candlelight vigils,” Ben said.