Time Heals No Wounds (29 page)

“I’m sorry tonight didn’t go as planned,” Hannes said when they were all ready to leave.

“It’s not your fault,” said Elke as she wrapped her arms around him. “We’ll try again soon. I’ll give you a call! You’re welcome to join too,” she said to Anna.

Hannes and Anna stayed behind as the others made their way through the dark park.

“There’s still a bottle of champagne left,” she said. “Should we try to enjoy the rest of the evening?”

Hannes agreed, and they sat and sipped the champagne.

“It’s strange,” Anna said. Hannes could see her green eyes glowing in the dark. “The two murders got me thinking. I spent the entire day lost in thought.” She rubbed a blade of grass between her fingers. “You know, I thought about what I really want to do with the rest of my life. Before, I always had one goal: go to school, get a degree, find a job, and so on. There was always something, and there was always change because, well, that’s normal. But now? I’ve been doing the same thing for so many years. I have a secure job, but I still don’t know what’s coming next. So is that it? Have I already achieved my goal in life? Somehow that sounds wrong to me. Funnily enough, I only realized this when I was standing in front of my dead boss. You never know when life ends; it’s out of our hands. So the question is, what’s left?”

“Or what’s to come,” Hannes said.

“Precisely! We don’t know. Either there’s something or there isn’t. But in both cases, we should take advantage of our lives as much as possible. When I think about the last few years, there are very few moments that stand out to me. All those years passed without anything special.”

“Now you sound like my grandmother. She always said, ‘Hannes, when you get older, the years just slip through your fingers.’”

Anna smiled. “Bad, right? I sound like an old woman already! But it’s true. I tell myself that the biggest challenge of my life can’t be how to spend my best years living so safe.”

“But that’s what our society’s built on. Most people strive for this kind of life.”

“Safety is very nice, but isn’t it also incredibly boring? How much do you miss out on because you’re following a known path? Shouldn’t life be a challenge? Shouldn’t we try to discover, to experiment as much as possible? Instead, we spend our days doing monotonous work and then at the end ask where all the time went. Sure, you have weekends and holidays to recover from work, but you’re often so exhausted you don’t have the energy to go explore.”

“But there are also people who feel comfortable in their job.”

“You mean the lucky few who were able to turn their passion into a profession? I don’t hate my job. And I know I should be grateful to even have a job, especially in these difficult economic times, and so on, and so on. But ultimately we just spend way too much time at work. And when you think about it, most of it’s just repetition and serves only to profit the company. You can slave away for years working for a company, and if you’re lucky, you’ll get recognized for it. But once you can no longer do what they ask, they get rid of you! It happened to my aunt. She was at the same company for forty years, was committed to the company, and never complained when she put in overtime. Then came new management, and she was laid off. Since then, she’s been taking pills made by Lagussa . . .”

“But I think many people want security and structure in their lives. Look around: we all work, day after day. That’s how our system functions. If people were so unhappy with this situation, our free society would have undergone radical change a long time ago.”

“Free society? You’re free only if you obey the rules—that’s not true freedom. The minute you want to follow a different path, you’re faced with limitations. A lot of people are afraid of that. We’re also distracted enough to never even consider if we’re happy or not. I only recently read that last year Germans watched an average of almost four hours of TV a day. On average! That doesn’t leave much time for reflection. Most go to work, where they have used their mind or body for the benefit of a company, and then they come home. Before they go to bed, they veg on the couch and watch lame TV shows that promise glamour and adventure—which very few people will ever experience. The shows are sold as reality. Then there are religions and substitute religions, and every now and then publicly organized mass drunkenness like Oktoberfest, all of which makes people lazy and content.”

“So if it’s a big conspiracy, then who’s behind it? I don’t think business leaders meet regularly in Frankenstein’s castle to discuss how to keep people subdued.”

“I don’t think so either. A conspiracy has nothing to do with it. We have ourselves to blame. I think we believe too many things are unchangeable, and we tell ourselves, ‘We have this system, so we must deal with it.’ They forget that it isn’t God given, that we were the ones who created it. Who says it always has to be a question of growth, profit, efficiency, money, and more growth? These ideas are almost considered natural laws. It sucks! We see what’s wrong, we see that this system doesn’t lead to a happy, contented life. I see that every day at the company. Sales figures reach new record highs year after year because many people can no longer cope without our drugs. People must now adapt to the system, otherwise it makes them go crazy.”

Hannes realized once again that there was a lot more to this woman than he had realized. He remembered that he’d recently had a very similar conversation with Ben and Fritz. One of Ben’s arguments sprung to mind.

“I agree with you on many points. But the real problem is that no one speaks about these things. Look in the papers, watch the talk shows—these fundamental questions are never discussed.”

“Of course not, because we’ve weaned ourselves or have been weaned. The profiteers of the system cleverly realize that anyone who formulates such thoughts could easily be branded as a crazy fool, a communist, or an enemy of progress. But there’s no progress without critical thinking! And yet you’re ridiculed whenever you express such thoughts. Isn’t it ridiculous that anyone thinking beyond the norm is criticized? Shouldn’t everyone be doing this?”

“What questions have you asked to get yourself labeled this way?”

“Well, the fundamental question: What does a system that’s geared to the needs of people and nature look like? So far there hasn’t been one. Communism worked just as poorly as capitalism does. Capitalism didn’t win, it was just left over. I think that says it all.”

“And what should this new system look like?” he asked.

“I don’t know, but the starting point should be a discussion about how we want to live. What’s important is that we all have a good life that we can happily look back on. We just waste it as foolishly as we do any other commodity or resource.” Anna looked at her watch. “I have to get going now,” she said. They’d nearly emptied the bottle of champagne. “If I don’t show up, Tina’s going to be worried.”

“You should take a taxi. Let’s walk to the street.”

“All right, Mr. Policeman,” she teased with a smile. “What do you have planned for tomorrow? I promised Tina I’d have a girls’ day out with her. Sleep in, leisurely breakfast, go to the beach.”

“Sounds good,” said Hannes. “I’ll probably still be hunting for a murderer with my boss, and if I’m lucky, I might be able to get in an hour on the water.”

They had reached the street, and Anna hailed a taxi.

“I hope you solve the case soon,” she said. “I can’t imagine how it will be on Monday at the office with all the management gone! It’s almost as if someone wanted to exterminate the Ternheims. Like a personal vendetta.”

Hannes nodded, reflecting on what she said. “Get home safely,” he said.

Anna opened the door to the cab and turned to look at him. Her expression was serious but caring. “Get a good night’s sleep. Try not to dwell too much on the case or Ben. You can’t see into people.” Suddenly Anna stood on her tiptoes and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek. “Thanks for everything,” she whispered and got into the cab.

He stared down the empty street long after the taxi had disappeared and felt incredibly alone.

S
ATURDAY
N
IGHT INTO
S
UNDAY
M
ORNING

Memories are the photographs of our lives.

Whenever we remember, images appear in our minds. We can perceive bygone smells, tastes, and sounds or feel a gentle caress with a shudder.

If one of our senses is awakened with the proper key, it can spark an instant flashback and project the corresponding image onto our internal screen. But only during special moments does memory think it appropriate to press the shutter button. They can be happy and joyful moments, or painful and agonizing ones.

My personal photo album almost exclusively contains dreary black-and-white photos. I have to flip through it at length before I stumble upon a friendly snapshot.

I know whom to thank for this circumstance—and have decided to rip out page after page from my dark book of memories. Revenge is my tool.

But revenge is not sweet; it has a bitter aftertaste. Although it can provide a fleeting moment of relief, it passes quickly. Guilt and shame enter the battlefield. And above all, fear.

Fear that it can no longer be achieved. Fear that all will be foiled before the grand finale. I must finish. I must tear the last page out of the Book of Books. Only then can there be peace and quiet.

There is only this one way, even if it proves painful to heal the wounds. Yet there is no other possibility. I have learned that time alone does not heal wounds.

Soon it is finished.

E
ARLY
S
UNDAY
M
ORNING

Hannes spent most of the night thinking about the murders and a lot about Anna. Just as he had finally fallen asleep, Socks jumped into the bed and began to whine. Hannes stroked his soft fur, and Socks snuggled next to him. He listened for a while to his quiet breathing and finally drifted to sleep.

Hannes was awakened by a loud knock on the front door. Socks jumped out of bed barking and ran into the hall. It was ten o’clock. Hannes put on a T-shirt and shorts and went to the door.

Fritz seemed happy and bent over to greet Socks. He had a pained expression on his face as he stood back up.

“How’s your back?” Hannes asked.

“It’s fine. I brought some breakfast; if we’re working on a Sunday, we deserve a nice start.” He waved a paper bag in the air. “What, did you work a night shift? Any new insights?”

“No. I’d completely forgotten that Ben had planned a small party for our fairground friends last night. We gathered for a picnic in the park instead. So I still have more research to do.” Hannes hid the fact that Anna had been there. “Did you get anywhere yesterday?”

Fritz shook his head. “The search for Ben and Frank Richter has intensified. If he isn’t found today, we’ll have to contact the media for help. And Lauer said he’d double the number of officers working on the case if we don’t find anything soon.”

“Maybe that’s not so bad, we’re not getting anywhere.”

“Twice the number of officers means twice the number of mistakes. Besides, the need for coordination increases. Not to mention, we would have to bring everyone up to speed. But we still have a few hours. So, breakfast?”

“Yeah, come on in. You can sit on the balcony while I get some plates,” Hannes said. He was still half asleep.

“Coffee wouldn’t be half bad either!” Fritz called to him.

Hannes scooped ground coffee into a filter. He switched on the coffee machine and gathered some plates. Then he carried the tray out and was careful not to trip over Socks, who was running around his legs.

As he stepped onto the balcony, Fritz was shaking two tablets into his hand and tossed them into his mouth. He looked at Hannes and immediately choked. He put the bottle on the table and began to cough violently. Hannes put the tray down and pounded Fritz on the back.

“All right, all right! You don’t need to hit so hard,” Fritz said when he caught his breath. With tears in his eyes, he stared at Hannes. “And you volunteered at a nursing home? Are you sure it wasn’t a slaughterhouse?”

“Better a broken rib than suffocating, right? What are you taking?” Hannes looked at the prescription bottle; the name seemed to ring a bell. Still, he was unable to identify the drug.

Fritz grabbed the bottle and shoved it into his pocket. “Painkillers,” he said. “Yeah, I admit it. Right now the back pain is so severe that I need drugs. But don’t say a word to Steffen, otherwise he’ll take me off the case and send me to rehab.”

“That might be for the best.”

“Says Mr. ‘I get back into my boat with a broken knee as quickly as possible!’ When I’m on a case, I can’t let go until it’s solved. My health can wait. And with this magic pill here”—he patted his pocket—“I’ll be able to handle the pain for however long we still need.”

“So you think we’re close to solving the case?”

“Of course! We have a prime suspect in Ben, and this Laval character seems to play a strange role. We’ve got to track down Ben and find out what’s going on. Now I understand why you didn’t want to move out of Ben’s place,” Fritz said with a wink. “The view really doesn’t compare.” He nodded toward the shabby gray apartment building across the way where a scruffy man in sweatpants had just lit a cigarette on the balcony.

“As soon as we close the case, I’ll be on the market for a new apartment. By the way, I’m sorry I don’t have much to add to breakfast. My fridge is almost empty. I haven’t had a chance to go shopping.”

“Not even coffee?” Fritz said with a grin.

“Of course! At once, my lord, and please excuse the poor service!”

A few minutes later, they were sipping coffee.

“You’re taking it too much to heart,” said Fritz as he smeared jam on a slice of bread.

“What do I take too much to heart?”

“Ben. He weighs on you—and don’t think I don’t understand.”

“Yeah?” Hannes said as he reached for some bread.

“Early in my career, my best friend’s girlfriend was found murdered in the park. Her name was Monika, and she was always the life of the party. We had wild parties back then, even if that’s hard for you to imagine. She was brutally raped before she died. I was working with three others on the case, and in addition to the investigation, I also took care of my buddy every night. He was deeply depressed, and I was afraid he might take his own life, so I moved into his house. My colleagues and I were on that case for weeks.”

Fritz took a long sip from his coffee and folded his arms across his chest. “We were about to drop the case when we stumbled on a clue. A homeless man had seen the murder but didn’t want any trouble, so he made himself scarce. Fortunately, the man was deeply religious and confessed to a priest who placed solving the murder above the heavenly seal of confession and called the police. The end was ultimately banal. My best friend at the time had brutally raped and murdered his own girlfriend. He felt inferior and thought she didn’t pay enough attention to him. He was also insanely jealous. That’s when I learned in the most horrible way possible never to trust anyone. The only person you can really trust is yourself.”

They both chewed in silence.

“What happened to your friend?” Hannes finally asked.

“He hanged himself in prison. He probably wanted to terrorize Monika in the afterlife, because after the case was solved, his supposed depression went away. He fooled us all.”

Again there was silence.

“All right then.” Hannes stared into Fritz’s eyes. “Then I have lost my innocence and learned my lesson. But I can’t say I like the feeling.”

“That’s the way the world works,” Fritz said and ate the last morsel of bread with a sip of coffee. “But I still get the sense you haven’t come to terms with Ben’s guilt, so let me give you further proof. I did a little more research on Ben last night. Did you know he comes from some small village in Saxony-Anhalt?”

“I thought he was from Berlin.”

“Berlin was his last stop. He studied there for a few semesters before transferring here.”

Hannes could not figure out what Fritz was getting at. “I didn’t know that,” he said. “But what’s so strange about it?”

“The village where Ben grew up is only a few miles from a small town called Wittenberg. Tell me that’s not strange. Who contacted Ms. Ternheim? A Mark von Wittenberg.”

Hannes’s head swam. There were just too many coincidences. “But the person Anna saw with Ms. Ternheim at the Charles Memorial looked nothing like Ben.”

“Ms. Stahl also said she didn’t get a good look. Besides, this man didn’t necessarily have to be Ben. He could have sent someone else as Mark von Wittenberg, perhaps Frank Richter. After all, it’s possible Ben didn’t act alone. Maybe there’s some connection between him and Laval.”

Fritz wiped his mouth and stood up.

“Where are you going?”

“The station. We’ve got to find Ben. I want to close this case once and for all. I also want to hear the latest about the search for Merle von Hohenstein. But you can stay here and continue your research, even though I think finding Ben will provide us with quicker answers. Call me if you find anything.”

“I’d like to work out a little afterward, if that’s okay.”

“When’s this World Cup, anyway?”

“Next weekend, and I really want to use the home advantage to stick it to them.”

“Just don’t take too long. And keep your phone on you.”