Bad Wolf: A Novel (Pia Kirchhoff and Oliver von Bodenstein) Page 3

  “By the way, I got the key to the house,” said Inka. “If you like, you could take another look at it tonight.”

  “Oh, that’s a good idea.” Bodenstein looked at her. “But first you have to drive me home so I can pick up my car.”

  “I can drive you home afterward; otherwise, it’ll be too late. They haven’t turned on the electricity yet.”

  “If it’s not too much trouble.”

  “No problem.” She grinned. “I’m off tonight.”

  “Well then, I’ll gladly take you up on that offer.”

  Dr. Inka Hansen was a veterinarian and worked at an animal clinic in the Ruppertshain district of Kelkheim with two colleagues. Through her job, she had found out everything about the house. It was half of a duplex, and the builder had run out of money. For six months, construction had been stopped, and the house had gone on the market at a relatively reasonable price.

  Half an hour later, they had reached the construction site and teetered their way across a plank to the front door. Inka opened it and they went inside.

  “The stone floor has been laid, and all the wiring is done. But that’s it,” said Inka as she strolled through the rooms on the ground floor.

  Then they went up the stairs to the second floor.

  “Wow!” Bodenstein exclaimed. “The view is spectacular.” In the distance they could see the glittering lights of downtown Frankfurt to the left and the brightly illuminated airport to the right.

  “And nobody can build in front of it to block the view,” Inka declared. “In the daytime, you can see all the way up the hill to Schloss Bodenstein.”

  Life certainly took strange detours sometimes. He’d been fourteen years old when he fell in love with Inka Hansen, the daughter of the horse veterinarian from Ruppertshain. But he’d never worked up the courage to tell her. And so it ended in misunderstandings, which had driven him to study far away. There he had met Nicola, and then Cosima. He’d stopped thinking about Inka until they happened to meet during a murder investigation five years ago. Back then, he had still believed that his marriage to Cosima would last forever, and he probably would have lost contact with Inka if her daughter and his son hadn’t fallen in love with each other. The past year, the two had gotten married, and at the wedding he, as the father of the groom, had been seated next to her, the mother of the bride. They’d had a good conversation, then kept in touch by phone and went out to eat a few times. Over several months, a genuine friendship had developed, and the phone calls and dinners soon turned into a regular habit. Bodenstein liked being with Inka; she was easy to talk to and a good friend. Inka was a strong, self-confident woman, who placed great value on her freedom and independence.

  Bodenstein was happy with his life now, except for his housing situation. He couldn’t stay in the carriage house at the Bodenstein ancestral estate forever.

  In the vanishing daylight, they inspected the whole house, and Bodenstein was warming to the idea of moving to Ruppertshain so he could be closer to his youngest daughter. For the past few months, Cosima had also lived in Ruppertshain. She had rented an apartment in the Zauberberg, the former TB sanatorium, where she also had her office. After months of accusations, counteraccusations, and insults, Cosima and Oliver now got along better than ever before. They shared custody of Sophia, which was the top priority for Oliver. He would have his youngest daughter to himself every other weekend, and sometimes during the week as well, when Cosima had deadlines to meet.

  “This is really ideal,” he said enthusiastically when they’d finished the tour. “Sophia could have her own room, and when she’s a little older, she can come over here alone or even ride her bike to my parents’ place.”

  “I thought of that, too,” Inka replied. “Shall I put you in touch with the seller?”

  “Yes, I’d appreciate that,” Bodenstein said with a nod.

  Inka closed the front door and led the way across the plank toward the street. The night was hazy, and the heat of the day was still palpable between the houses. The scent of charcoal and grilled meat was in the air, and they heard voices and laughter from one of the backyards. “Just imagine,” he said, “if all goes well, we could wind up being neighbors.”

  “Would you like that?” Inka asked.

  As she stood next to her car, she turned around to look at him. In the light of the streetlamps, her natural blond hair shone like honey. Bodenstein admired once more her classic facial features, her high cheekbones and lovely lips. Neither the years nor the hard work as a veterinarian had diminished her beauty. He once again wondered why she’d never had a husband or a steady boyfriend.

  “Sure.” He walked around the car to the passenger side and got in. “That would be wonderful. Why don’t we grab a quick pizza at Merlin’s? I’m as hungry as a bear.”

  Inka got in behind the wheel.

  “Okay,” she replied after a brief hesitation, and put the key in the ignition.

  * * *

  For the third time, Pia drove around the narrow cobblestone streets of the old town in Königstein, looking in vain for a parking spot as she cursed the size of her SUV. In front of her, a minivan pulled out of a spot, and she skillfully backed into the space. After one last look in the rearview mirror, she grabbed her bag and got out. She had never been to a class reunion and was honestly eager to see the girls from her old school. As she walked past the ice-cream shop, her eyes fell on a lattice fence with the gaping hole of a construction site behind it. This was where the building had stood in which she’d found the corpse of Robert Watkowiak two years before. The fact that there had been a dead man in the house certainly hadn’t helped the real estate agent sell the property.

  Pia went down the pedestrian street and turned right at the bookstore, heading toward Villa Borgnis in the direction of the spa park. Pia could hear laughter and the babble of voices drowning out the splashing of the fountain surrounded by a border of flowers. She turned the corner and had to smile. The same flock of chickens as in the old days!

  “Piiiiia!” a red-haired woman called shrilly, coming toward her with arms outstretched. “How wonderful to see you.”

  A big hug and kisses left and right.

  Sylvia’s face was radiant as she pushed her toward the crowd, and the next moment Pia was surrounded by familiar faces, astonished to see how little her friends had changed over the years. Someone put a glass of Aperol spritz in her hand. Kisses, smiles, effusive embraces, genuine joy at seeing one another again. Sylvia gave a witty speech, which kept getting interrupted by laughter and whistles, and finished by saying she hoped everyone present would have a lot of fun. As thanks from the class of 1986, Yvonne and Kristina gave her a big bouquet and a gift certificate for a wellness weekend, and Pia had to stifle a grin. Typical gifts from well-to-do women of a certain age. But they came from the heart, and Sylvia was moved to tears.

  Pia sipped her cocktail and made a face. This sweet stuff was not exactly her favorite drink, but it was totally in at the moment, having regrettably supplanted good old Prosecco in popularity.

  “Pia?”

  She turned around to see a dark-haired woman in whose adult features she recognized the fifteen-year-old girl she once knew.

  “Emma!” she cried in disbelief. “I had no idea you’d be here, too! How great to see you.”

  “I’m glad I decided to come. I confirmed at the last minute.”

  They gazed at each other, then laughed and shared a big hug.

  “Hey!” Pia’s eyes now fell on the round belly of her old childhood friend. “You’re pregnant!”

  “Yep, imagine. At forty-three.”

  “That’s no big deal these days,” replied Pia.

  “I have a daughter, Louisa, who’s five. And I actually thought that would be it. But when it rains, it pours.” Emma took her by the arm. “And you? Do you have kids?”

  Pia felt the familiar pang that this question always provoked.

  “No,” she replied breezily. “But I’ve got horses and
dogs.”

  “At least you can lock them up at night somewhere.”

  They both grinned.

  “Wow, I never thought we’d ever see each other again,” said Pia, changing the subject. “A couple of years ago, I ran into Miriam. Somehow, everyone always comes back to the beautiful Taunus.”

  “Yep, even me.” Emma let go of her arm. “Excuse me for sitting down for a moment. This heat is really getting to me.”

  With a sigh, she sank onto a chair, and Pia sat down beside her.

  “Miriam, you, and I,” said Emma. “We were truly the Terrible Trio. Our parents had their hands full with us. How’s Miri doing?”

  “Good.” Pia took another sip of the orange-colored stuff. In this warm weather, her mouth had dried out from talking so much. “Last year she married my ex.”

  “Are you kidding?” Emma opened her eyes wide. “And … you—I mean, that must be pretty tough for you, isn’t it?”

  “Oh no, no. I’m fine with it. Henning and I get along better than ever, and we still work together occasionally. Anyway, I’m not alone.”

  Pia leaned back and looked out across the terrace. It felt like being on a class outing in the old days. The girls who’d been friends back then had quickly found one another again. Behind the tall cedars, the tower of the ruined fortress was glowing in the light from the spotlights against the dark blue backdrop of the evening sky, and the first stars were faintly glimmering. A peaceful, carefree evening. Pia was happy she’d come. She didn’t do enough socializing in her free time.

  “Tell me about yourself,” Pia said. “What are you doing these days?”

  “I got a teaching degree, but after two years at an elementary school in Berlin, I joined the German Development Service and went abroad.”

  “As a teacher?” Pia asked.

  “At first, yes. But then I wanted to go into crisis areas. Really do some good. So I joined Doctors Worldwide. As a logistics tech. Then I was really in my element.”

  “What did you do there?”

  “Organization. Transporting medicines and health-care supplies. I was responsible for communications technology, plus the housing and welfare of staff members. Customs clearance, route planning, the motor pool, the maintenance and daily operation of the camps, project security, and contact with personnel back in Germany.”

  “Wow. That sounds exciting.”

  “Yes, it certainly was. Usually, we’d find catastrophic conditions, zero infrastructure, corrupt officials, and tribes at each other’s throats. In Ethiopia six years ago, I also met my husband. He’s a physician with Doctors Worldwide.”

  “So why did you come back here?”

  Emma patted her belly.

  “Last winter, when I found out I was pregnant, Florian—that’s my husband—insisted that I return to Germany with Louisa. After all, a pregnancy at my age is risky. I’m staying with his parents in Falkenstein. Maybe you’ve heard of my father-in-law: Dr. Josef Finkbeiner. Many years ago, he founded the Sonnenkinder Association.”

  “Of course I’ve heard of it,” said Pia with a nod. “Helping single mothers and their children.”

  “Precisely. A really fantastic cause,” Emma declared. “Once the baby is born, I won’t be able to do much else. At the moment, I’m helping out a little at the organization, planning the big celebration for my father-in-law’s eightieth birthday in early July.”

  “And is your husband still in some disaster zone?”

  “No. Three weeks ago, he came back from Haiti and is now giving speeches all over Germany for DW. I don’t see a lot of him, but at least he’s home on weekends.”

  A waiter came over with a tray, and Emma and Pia each took a glass of mineral water.

  “Hey, it’s really great to see you again.” With a smile, Pia raised her glass. “Miri will be glad to hear that you’re back in Germany, too.”

  “The three of us should get together. Maybe chat about old times.”

  “Good idea. Here, I’ll give you my card.” As Pia rummaged in her shoulder bag for a business card, she felt her cell phone vibrating.

  “Excuse me a moment,” she said, handing Emma her card. “I have to take this.”

  “Your husband?” Emma asked.

  “No. My job.”

  Today was Pia’s day off, but if murder was suspected and her colleagues belonged to a different Kripo unit, she was the one they’d call. It was as she’d feared: A girl had been found dead in Eddersheim.

  “I’m on my way,” she said to the officer on duty, who was already at the scene. “Half an hour. Text me the exact address.”

  “You’re with the Criminal Police?” Emma asked in astonishment as she held up the card. “Detective Superintendent Pia Kirchhoff.”

  “As of today, chief detective superintendent.” Pia gave her a wry smile.

  “What do they want you for at this time of day?”

  “They found a body. And unfortunately, I’m on call.”

  “You work in Homicide?” Emma stared at her in surprise. “Jeez, that’s exciting. Do you carry a revolver, too?”

  “A pistol. And it’s not really that exciting. Mostly frustrating.” Pia grimaced and stood up. “Well, at least I’ll spare myself the big good-bye with everybody. If anyone asks about me…”

  She shrugged. Emma also got up.

  “You know what? Why don’t you come to our summer party? Then at least we’ll get to see each other again. And if Miriam feels like it, bring her along, too, okay? I’d really love to see both of you.”

  “I’d love to come.” Pia gave her friend a hug. “See you soon.”

  She managed to escape unnoticed. Ten after ten! Crap. A dead girl. It was going to be a long night, and since she was the only one on call in her department, the unpleasant task of notifying the parents would fall to her. Facing the disbelief and despair of the victim’s family members was the worst part of her job.

  As she walked down the pedestrian street to her car, her cell phone rang again and the display lit up. The duty officer had texted her the address: Mönchhofstrasse in Hattersheim-Eddersheim. By the locks. Pia got into her car, turned on the ignition, and rolled down the windows to let in some fresh air. She typed the address into her GPS, fastened her seat belt, and drove off.

  Calculating route, the friendly female computer voice informed her. The route is in the direction displayed.

  Distance: 22.7 kilometers. Arrival time: 22:43.

  * * *

  Hanna turned down the little cul-de-sac at the edge of the woods. Her house stood at the end. The exterior floodlights, which were activated by a motion detector, bathed the house in bright light. She braked to a stop. She hoped she wouldn’t find Vinzenz waiting there, or even Norman. But then she saw a bright red Mini with Munich plates parked in front of the double garage door and gave a sigh. Meike had apparently arrived a day early. She parked next to Meike’s car and climbed out.

  “Hi, Meike!” she called, smiling, although she wasn’t exactly in a cheerful mood. First the ugly argument with Norman, then the conversation with Wolfgang Matern. At seven o’clock, Hanna had had a crisis meeting with the whole team in the conference room. Then she and Jan had met with a female freelance producer who chain-smoked for an hour and a half in a dim, stuffy lounge full of suits in a side street off Goethestrasse and kept making outrageous demands. A total waste of time.

  “Hi, Hanna.” Meike got up from the top step. Two suitcases and a carryall stood by the front door.

  “Why didn’t you call and tell me you were arriving today?”

  “I tried about twenty times,” said Meike reproachfully. “Why’d you turn off your cell?”

  “Oh, there were so many hassles today. I must have turned it off at some point. But you could have called the office.”

  She kissed her daughter on the cheek, prompting a grimace. Then she opened the front door and helped Meike take in the bags.

  Moving from Berlin to Munich seemed to have done Meike good. Since Hanna had
last seen her, she’d put on a little weight. Her hair was washed and her style of clothes had normalized a bit. Maybe she was finally about to give up the late-puberty look of a homeless squatter.

  “You’re looking good,” she said.

  “You sure aren’t,” replied Meike with a critical glance. “You’re really looking old.”

  “Thanks for the compliment.”

  Hanna kicked off her shoes and went to the kitchen to get an ice-cold beer from the fridge.

  Her relationship with Meike had always been complicated, and considering this initial exchange, Hanna was no longer sure it had been a good idea to ask her daughter to fill in as a production assistant during her summer vacation. She had never paid any attention to what other people said about her, but Meike’s hostility was causing her more and more concern. On the phone, her daughter had immediately made it clear that she wasn’t taking the job as a favor, but for purely financial reasons. Still, Hanna was looking forward to having Meike stay with her over the summer. She hadn’t yet gotten used to being alone.

  The toilet flushed and Meike reappeared in the kitchen.

  “Are you hungry?” Hanna asked.

  “No. I already ate.”

  Exhausted, Hanna sat down on one of the kitchen chairs, stretched out her legs, and wiggled her aching toes. Hallux rigidus in both her big toes, the price of wearing heels for thirty years. Walking in shoes with heels more than an inch and a half high was becoming more and more of a torment, but she couldn’t resort to wearing tennis shoes.

  “If you want a cold beer, there are a couple of bottles in the fridge.”

  “I’d rather make some green tea. Have you started drinking again?” Meike ran water into the kettle, took a mug out of the cupboard, and looked in drawers until she found the tea. “Maybe that’s why Vinzenz left. How is it that you manage to scare off every guy?”