Nemesis: Innocence Sold (27 page)

Michael withstood the reproachful look. “Correct, but more’s involved—considerably more. Dirk had warned me yesterday to leave the subject alone. I should have listened to him; a few hours after our phone conversation, Sabina was kidnapped. Not in order to extort money; rather, she was supposed to . . .” Michael cleared his throat. “They were going to kill me and Dirk at the agreed-upon place of transfer, and my daughter was supposed to have been sold to someone who has enough money to satisfy his perverted desires.” Michael gave Weinreich time to process what he had said before he made a fresh start. “Who did you tell about our phone conversation? My family will not be safe until we’ve taken those guys out of circulation.”

Visibly affected, Weinreich felt for a chair. His knuckles whitened when he squeezed the edge of it. “How is she? How are the boys? And your wife? What happened?”

“They’re safe. Marius contacted the LKA behind my back. Ultimately the right decision. But it was very close.”

“Do you need help? Where are they? How would my vacation house on Sylt be?”

Michael nodded in Dirk’s direction. “I have help. All I need is a name. Two of the perpetrators come from the so-called best families. Exactly the circles you move in. Who was interested in Sandra Meinke? I’m going to get that guy with or without your help. But consider this: he kidnapped and drugged my daughter. If that doesn’t convince you to give me the name, then . . .” He shrugged, and the unspoken threat was communicated.

Weinreich went pale. “You don’t think I had something to do with that? I love Sabina and the boys like my own grandchildren. You’re barking up the wrong tree, my boy. I admit I wanted to do a favor for a friend. But I can vouch for him. He has nothing to do with such deviant things and would never take any action that could harm you.”

“You’re mistaken, Walter. Maybe it’s like in your case: he also asked you for a friend or something like that. But he can tell us that when we ask him.”

“You’re completely wrong, Michael. There’s something else behind it. Maybe one of your other cases.”

“No,” Dirk said. “What’s indicated by the evidence and connections is clear. Mr. Weinreich, we have a dead child, a kidnapping, and an attempted abduction, and then some people who know something but are not talking. How long is this supposed to continue? Until the next child dies or disappears? If you tell us who was interested in Sandra Meinke, we’ll move a step forward. We’ll neither mention your name nor appear there with a large number of officers; we’ll discreetly make an appointment. But we need your help. Michael’s family needs your help.”

“You’re asking for too much, and you’re barking up the wrong tree,” Weinreich repeated.

“Leave that assessment to us.” In a few words, Dirk summarized Sandra’s theory regarding child abuse as the ultimate kick. “Right now, my partner’s talking to the men who wanted to kill Michael and me yesterday. If he’s right, then the motive was the need to kill someone live and in person and make him feel a little fear first. There are limits, Mr. Weinreich. What’s going on here must end, but we need your help to make that happen.”

Weinreich had become even paler, and Dirk became increasingly certain that the publisher at least had an idea of what he was talking about. “I can’t help you. I’ve already told you that you’re on the wrong track.”

“Who are you protecting?” Michael asked. “Isn’t it clear what the consequences will be if you don’t help?”

“What do you mean?”

“I’d have thought you would have placed a higher value on the safety of my family. It leaves you shocked that Sabina and I almost lost our lives last night. What would you have done if we had? Heaved a sigh of relief because I wouldn’t be asking questions? And you would have assuaged your conscience by writing a check for my wife and my sons—or what am I supposed to believe?”

“You’re going too far.”

“No. I haven’t even begun yet. I want to know who I was supposed to spy on the girl for. Tell me.”

Weinreich shook his head.

“All right, fine, I can’t believe it, but fine. Or not fine. I can’t live with your priorities. Consider our cooperation over, and never get close to my family again.”

“You’re not serious, my boy. When you’ve calmed down, you’ll realize that . . .” Weinreich grasped his stomach. With a movement that betrayed its routine nature, he took a tiny pillbox from his pants pocket and bit a tablet. After two gasping breaths, he had a grip on himself again. “Don’t do anything you’re going to regret later, Michael.”

“I only regret that I didn’t speak openly to the LKA yesterday. I can’t believe I was so wrong about you. Dirk? Do you have anything more?”

“Yes, one point. Mr. Weinreich, you’re sacrificing a great deal for your anonymous friend. You might find a comparable security expert, but it amazes me you’re willing to give up Michael and the children so frivolously. What about your freedom? Is that worth anything to you?”

“What do you mean? Are you going to threaten me with coercive detention now?”

“No, that would be pointless. Unfortunately, the rule of law also protects people like you. Key word: Ireland. Shamrock Real Estate Limited. Can we do business now?”

Although Michael couldn’t know what Dirk was speaking of, he concealed his ignorance behind a poker face and said, “You wanted it this way. Is your friend really worth so much to you that you’re willing to spend a few weeks or months in prison?”

When Weinreich straightened up after the initial shock, Dirk sensed they had achieved nothing. “My attorney will draft a voluntary declaration today. The rest will be up to the court to judge. I will not let myself be blackmailed; on the contrary, I’m absolutely certain my friend deserves my unreserved loyalty.” He gave a contemptuous wave of dismissal. “Those are values that are appreciated only to a limited extent by your generation.”

“If that were true, Dirk would hardly have helped me yesterday. But go ahead and keep on living on your island of bliss, knowing full well that filth boils beneath the surface. Let’s go, Dirk, I’m finished here.”

Dirk turned and followed Michael, who stormed to the elevators but said nothing until they had reached the Audi. “Do you know someone who knows a lot about computer networks and doesn’t take the law all that seriously?” Michael asked.

“Why?”

“Walter and his friends are fans of new means of communication. They love their BlackBerrys and e-mail each other about all kinds of crap. If we had access to the server, we might find out who he’s willing to fall on his sword for.”

“The servers are going to be protected. How are you going to get through the firewall?”

“Me? I’m just an ordinary computer user. But Marius sent network protocols or something like that to my laptop, and it must be possible using those. Our own computer experts helped make the network secure. Somehow I feared things would end like this.”

“That sounds too good to be true, but I know just the right person for a job like that.”

“Who?”

“A friend,” Dirk said, grinning. His mood had improved, and he had hope that they would emerge from the dead end where the publisher had left them.

CHAPTER 27

Near the open-plan office in the drug department where her desk, too, would be located in the future, Sandra stopped and leaned against the wall. Although she had acted casual and under control in Sven’s presence, she couldn’t shake her thought about Kamps’s interrogation. The thought of what bored men of sufficient financial means were capable of was intolerable, despite the fact that in the last few years she had often confronted criminals and human abysses of various kinds.

She pushed herself away from the wall with determination. She would help no one by philosophizing. She thought about how Daniel had probably already experienced more misery and death than she could imagine, and she laughed. Just the thought of him was enough to bring her out of her brooding.

It was a good feeling to be able to naturally enter an office where she had found her place. Puzzled, she stopped next to two desks that had been pushed together and chairs that had apparently been arranged at random. Pizza boxes lay next to some printouts. Lars greeted her with a tormented smile. “Did you know Daniel’s a slave driver? I have the feeling my hair’s going to start smoking soon. This isn’t how I imagined it.”

“How did you, then?” Kat asked. “Do you want to run around all day with your gun in your hand? Dream on, and quit making such a fuss. It was worth it.” She pulled a chair beside her. “Come on, sit down, Sandra. Daniel’s gone into Stephan’s office for a little while to make a phone call but will be back soon. We’re trying to organize everything into a reasonable system. Some things we can connect; in other cases, we’re hoping for help from you and Sven. How was it?”

“I’ll tell you when Daniel’s back. I don’t want to say everything twice.” When she noticed how gruff her tone was, she shook her head. “I’m sorry. I can still feel that stuff in my bones. If I talk about it twice, I’ll probably start screaming.”

“That bad? I’m sorry to hear that. Come on, I’ll show you the kitchen and changing room. Maybe the men will have a moment of genius in the meantime. But I doubt it.” Kat laughed when Lars threw a crumpled piece of paper at her. “That’s what I say: children. Are you coming?”

“Just a second,” Sandra said. She realized only now that in addition to Lars and Wartberg there was a colleague present she hadn’t counted on: Volker Lüttgens. “How are you, Mr. Lüttgens? Have you recovered from last night?”

“Aren’t you more interested in what I’m doing here?” he asked, needling her. “If it’s all right with you, we can dispense with formalities. Volker’s sufficient.”

“Of course. Sandra. And you’re right. I thought you were recovering on a North Sea island.”

“Perhaps I couldn’t tear myself away from my new personal physician? Or I just wanted more of the stuff he gave me yesterday,” Volker joked, making Sandra laugh.

“Then being in the drug department with us is exactly the right place for you. Was that a confession?” she said, amazed at the change in the policeman. Freed from the burden of blackmail and his duplicity, he seemed like an entirely different man from the one she and Daniel had encountered in the apartment building in the Lübeck old town.

“Certainly not. But seriously, my wife’s described to me in detail how you lost those guys yesterday. Thanks a lot for that.”

“Don’t mention it. Anything new?”

Wartberg pushed in between Lüttgens and Sandra. “Let me take over. I have to iron out a pretty bumpy beginning. Hannes is sufficient, all right? It’d be pretty silly if we were the only ones to retain the formalities. My boss in Kiel has retroactively added Volker to the team and initiated a manhunt for Blumenthal. We made bets about whether he was a peripheral figure and would reappear as a corpse or whether he’s higher up and has gone underground. I’m guessing the former.”

“And I’ll get some coffee and water on my own,” said Kat, declining when Sandra made signs of following her. “Be right back. We’ll postpone our women’s tour until later.”

Grateful for the extra time, Sandra decided not to comment on Hannes’s distrust of Volker, which came through clearly. She still remembered what Daniel had said about Volker’s participation in the firefight outside badlantic, and she trusted his feeling more than her Lübeck colleague. She turned to Volker. “That’s to say, you’ve been retroactively assigned to the Kiel people and are out of the woods?” She felt somewhat overwhelmed by the unexpected reception and the flood of information.

“Yep, exactly, to some extent. My private investigation of Blumenthal will have no consequences. At the moment, I’m on sick leave, but my head works, so I can help out. There will definitely be consequences because of the thing with my sister, but I stand by that. I guess they’re not going to kick me out.” With a crooked grin, he tapped the bandage on his upper arm. “The bullet was a lucky strike; getting wounded in the line of duty can make up for a lot.”

Sandra wasn’t planning to form a front against Volker alongside Hannes, so she made an effort to neutrally formulate the question that had been occupying her mind since the previous day. “Why didn’t you tell Blumenthal to fuck off if you don’t have a problem with accepting the consequences for the thing with the disco raid? I don’t understand that.”

“You’re not the first person who’s asked me that today, and the answer sounds dumber every time I give it, but nevertheless . . . Even if I had lost my public servant status, which in my attorney’s view is extremely unlikely, it wouldn’t have threatened my existence. My wife could have gone back to work, and I would have found something else. It was different: once I had gotten over the first shock of Blumenthal’s blackmail, I wanted to know who else was involved and how far the swamp extended. Call it stupid or naive. But I was wild about the Lone Ranger and Batman when I was a child, and I was sure I could outfox Blumenthal. You don’t need to underscore how moronic that was. I’ve already heard a lecture about basic principles on solo missions and teamwork.”

“Then I’ll skip that,” said Sandra and ignored the derisive expression Hannes was using to comment on Volker’s explanation. “Would you give me an overview of what you have?” she asked, changing the subject.

Hannes and Volker fought a silent duel of glances, and Volker, as the lower-ranking policeman, finally capitulated. “It’s not much, but it’s better than nothing.” He made a helpless movement in the direction of the piles of paper strewn around. “We’ve requested quite a bit of material having to do with this Kalle and in particular with the boy who was killed; we received these from colleagues by fax. Together with the cases Hannes and Berger have sorted through, this material shows a pattern. But we can’t get a proper handle on it. The only valuable trail is the all-terrain vehicle I saw on the grounds of the trucking company. I’ve clicked through all the manufacturer’s Web pages and am sure I have the correct type. In the Stormarn district, there are only fifteen vehicles of this model. Well, if I’m right. However, if you search for all Mercedes all-terrain-vehicle variants in Stormarn, you get a huge number. We’re working on finding a connection between the owner and one of the case’s other loose ends.”

“We? I’m typing my fingers to the bone here!” Lars said. “I’ve entered all the names into a database. It automatically outputs double mentions or connections. Pretty practical.”

Sandra was surprised. As far as she knew, such large-scale comparisons were only carried out in a computing center in one of the new federal states of Germany for cases of capital offenses. Lars understood her expression correctly and grinned. “Very simple. Our boss has the right friends. Sven developed this little but useful aid with a friend. It’s child’s play to use it, and it’s superpractical. That’s not really surprising—Sven specified the content, and his friend made the whole thing a technical reality. Subsequently, they sold the program to the FBI, among other organizations, and I’ll bet they’re earning pretty nice licensing fees. And thanks to our boss’s connection to the two developers, we have it, too.”

After taking a sip of soda, Lars turned back to his computer, typed in some names, and jerked back from the keyboard when the computer emitted a shrill beeping tone. “They only messed up that one thing: our internal speakers don’t have a pleasant gong that indicates when the program’s done.”

Curious, Sandra stepped closer; Hannes and Volker followed.

Lars said, “In this file I’ve entered the investigating officers from the Lübeck District Office of Criminal Inspection for all the cases that seemed strange to Hannes and Berger. Previously, I fed the computer the hierarchy there, of course with the corresponding names. Did I mention this program has some really smart additional features? That’s also very practical when one needs to chart the organizations of our Kurdish fellow citizens who’ve decided to take on a career in drugs. Anyway, I just put in the last two names and received the result instantly. One click, and you’ll see.”

On the monitor an extensive diagram appeared, in which Sandra, taking a second look, recognized the organization of the Lübeck District Office of Criminal Inspection. Each of the boxes contained a different number of small stars and a percentage. The higher the level in the hierarchy, the larger the number of small stars and the percentage, up to a commander, the superior of Röhrich, whose name was emphasized with red and who reached 100 percent.

Lars tapped the box. “Well, according to the computer, he would be your man. As far as his authority’s concerned, he could have influenced all the cases. In the case of Röhrich, there are at least two cases in which the necessary connections or competencies are not present. It’s also possible to take a look at the details, of course. I’ll save this and print it out, and then you can have a heated discussion about it, but please no more violence in this office.”

Despite the casual reference, Hannes clenched his teeth. It was clear the message had been directed at him, and Sandra wondered what she had missed during the interrogation. Apparently, quite a bit.

The Lübecker’s face spoke volumes; all that was missing was a contemptuous snort. “You really think that your magic program is going to achieve in two hours what Mario and I have spent weeks working on?”

“Stay objective. It doesn’t automatically spit out arrest orders; it just provides starting points I’d say one should pursue. Our experiences with it have been good so far.”

Sandra gave Hannes no opportunity to reply. “If this
Kriminaldirektor
 . . .” She leaned forward to make out the name. “Anton Killinger. Well, if he’s the direct superior of Röhrich, then it could be that Röhrich noticed something and for that reason . . . behaved so ambivalently. That would make sense. Enter Killinger into the other database and see what comes out.”

Lars smiled and tapped his forehead. “Aye, ma’am. That is exactly what I was planning to do. Finally, a woman who understands me.”

Though Volker couldn’t grasp the double meaning of Lars’s mocking salute, he smiled. “I hope it doesn’t disappoint you that I was going to suggest that, too. Can you start with the trucking company somehow? I have a feeling about that.”

“No problem—their data’s already there. The computer will let us know immediately after entry if it has anything.”

Lars had hardly pressed the “Return” key when the computer gave a shrill beep.

“Well, now I’m excited,” Hannes said and pushed in front of Sandra. Before she could protest, he read the information aloud: “The maiden name of the wife of the owner of the trucking company is Killinger. All right, I’ll keep my mouth shut from now on.” He stepped aside, looking as though someone had hit him below the belt.

Lars smiled. “I have the impression it would have been better for Daniel to have given you the lecture about the advantages of teamwork. Man, don’t get so mad. Only the result counts, and we do appreciate your achievement.”

Sandra suddenly felt Daniel’s presence. When she turned around, she was shocked to see him standing there. She sensed he had wanted to say something else but now felt forced to comment on Hannes’s reaction.

“Lars is right: ultimately, the result counts. Don’t forget that there were only two of you, and you also had to do your actual jobs. Now an entire team is working on evaluating the data you gathered. I need you as a part of the team and don’t need trench warfare or sensitivity. So please concentrate on the task at hand. Everything else is unimportant. Bring me up to date.”

Despite this, Sandra said, “Is there anything new?”

“Later.”

Sandra took a deep breath and refrained from replying. Her humorous boyfriend appeared transformed into a cold Navy officer accustomed to command.

She felt a brief touch on her shoulder when he passed, though she thought it was probably something she had only imagined, and then she saw the rage behind Daniel’s controlled expression. What could have happened?

It wasn’t until he looked at her that she realized Hannes was finished with his summary, and it was her turn. “Sorry. What was the question?”

“The interrogation?”

Wow. He couldn’t have been more brief; nevertheless, she began with a point Hannes hadn’t addressed. “The name Killinger is not particularly common. If the commander and the owner of the trucking company are really in bed together, that could be the motive for the attack on Berger. We had already established that the Lüttgens-Blumenthal axis didn’t justify a car bomb.”

“Good point. Hannes, ask Berger whether he requested the trucking company’s files.”

“I don’t need to. He did. I could have figured that out, too. Sounds convincing. Should I do something about Röhrich or Killinger?”

“No, Stephan and Sven will take care of that. We’ll continue here. Sandra?”

“All right. The most important point first. Sven’s choice was perfect; he got the bastard to talk. Kamps denies that he has a need to get in bed with children, but he suggested his friend is different. We couldn’t nail him down on this, and he’s not going to say anything about it in court. But that doesn’t matter; his buddy has a juvenile sentence for molesting an eight-year-old girl, and that will convince the court.”