Tuesday, November 25, 2008
It was a little after five in the morning when Bodenstein left the hospital. He felt deeply moved by the sight of Amelie patiently keeping watch by Tobias Sartorius’s bed until he woke up from the anesthesia. He put up the collar of his coat and made his way to the service vehicle. At the last second he had managed to arrest Daniela Lauterbach. She wasn’t on the plane going to South America, but on the one headed for Australia. Bodenstein walked around the hospital building, lost in thought. The fresh snow creaked under his shoes. It occurred to him that almost three weeks had passed since the day the skeleton of Laura Wagner had been found at the Eschborn airfield. Previously in his career he had viewed every case from the sober perspective of an outsider who was getting a look inside the lives of complete strangers, but this time he felt like he’d been personally involved in events. Something in his attitude had changed, and he knew that he would never again feel the way he had before.
He stopped when he reached the car. He felt as though on the slow, calm river of life he’d suddenly gone crashing over a waterfall and was now sailing on stormy waters in a whole new direction. This image was alarming and yet exciting at the same time.
Bodenstein got into the car, started the engine, and waited until the windshield wipers had shoved the snow aside. Yesterday he had promised Cosima to drop by for breakfast and talk over everything in peace and quiet, if his work permitted. He was astounded to realize that he no longer harbored any anger toward her and felt fully able to discuss the whole situation objectively. He drove out of the parking lot and took the Limesspange expressway toward Kelkheim. His cell phone, which hadn’t worked inside the hospital, beeped. He took it out of his pocket and pressed the message symbol. A callback from 3:21 A.M. with a cell number he didn’t recognize. He pressed the number on the display at once.
“Hello?” said a sleepy female voice he didn’t recognize.
“Bodenstein,” he said. “Please excuse me for bothering you so early, but I had a callback number on my cell and thought it was urgent.”
“Oh … hello,” said the woman. “I went with my sister to see Thies at the hospital and got home really late. But I wanted to thank you.”
Now he finally realized who he was talking to, and his heart leaped with joy.
“Thank me for what?” he asked.
“You saved Thies’s life,” said Heidi Brückner. “And probably my sister’s too. We saw on the TV that you’ve arrested my brother-in-law and the Lauterbach woman.”
“Hmm. Yes.”
“Well then.” She sounded suddenly embarrassed. “That was what I wanted to tell you. You … you’ve been working hard, and you’re probably tired so…”
“No, no,” Bodenstein said quickly. “I’m wide awake. But I haven’t eaten anything in ages and was about to get some breakfast.”
There was a brief pause, and he was afraid the conversation might have been cut off.
“I could do with a little breakfast myself,” she replied. Bodenstein could imagine her smiling, and he smiled too.
“Why don’t we meet for coffee somewhere?” he suggested, hoping it sounded casual enough. Inside he was all nerves. He thought he could feel his heart beating in his fingertips. He almost felt like he was doing something forbidden. How long had it been since he had made a date with an attractive woman?
“That would be nice,” Heidi Brückner said to his relief. “But I’m already at home. In Schotten.”
“Better than in Hamburg.” Bodenstein grinned and waited in suspense for her reply. “Although for coffee I’d be willing to drive all the way to Hamburg.”
“Then why don’t we meet here in Vogelsberg?” she said. Bodenstein slowed down for a snowplow in front of him. In one kilometer the B8 veered to the right. To Cosima.
“It’s a big area,” he said, although he actually had her address on her business card. “I could drive all over Vogelsberg looking for you.”
“Oh, it’d be a shame to waste your time like that.” She laughed. “Schlossgasse 19. In the middle of the old town.”
“Okay. I’ll find it,” he said.
“Great, I’ll be expecting you. And drive carefully.”
“I will. See you soon.” Bodenstein ended the call and sighed. Was this a good idea? There was a pile of paperwork waiting at the office, and Cosima was waiting at home. The snowplow was still crawling along in front of him. Right turn to Kelkheim.
There would be plenty of time for the paperwork later. And the discussion with Cosima could wait too. Bodenstein took a deep breath and put on his blinker. To the left. Toward the autobahn.
Acknowledgments
From the initial idea to the finished book is always a long, yet exciting process. I’d like to thank my husband Harald for his understanding, my sisters Claudia Cohen and Camilla Altvater, my niece Caroline Cohen, Simone Schreiber, Anne Pfenninger, Vanessa Müller-Raidt, and Susanne Hecker for reading the manuscript and offering helpful suggestions at various stages of its genesis. I thank Christa Thabor and Iska Peller for their wonderful collaboration.
My thanks to Professor Hansjürgen Bratzke, director of the Center for Forensic Medicine at the University of Frankfurt, for advice and support in all matters of forensic medicine.
I also have to thank the team from K-11 of the Regional Criminal Unit in Hofheim, which kindly allows Bodenstein, Pia & Co. to make use of their workplace. Without the advice of KOR Peter ?hm, EKHK Bernd Beer, KOK Jochen Adler, and above all KOK Andrea Schulze, I could not present the work of the criminal police as realistically as I here tried to do.
Many thanks also to all the residents of Altenhain. I hope they won’t hold it against me for making their village the setting for this book. I can assure everyone that all characters and events arose from my own imagination.
My most heartfelt thanks go to my German editors Marion Vazquez and Kristine Kress. Marion because she encouraged me to write this book and followed the entire process, and Kristine Kress because she gave the book its final polish. Working with you both was extremely enjoyable.
And last but not least I would like to thank all my wonderful readers and booksellers who enjoy my books and have motivated me to keep writing.
—Nele Neuhaus, November 2009