Page 79 of Anatomy of a Killer
No.
Yes, she did. A few months after your trial, it was. She just couldn’t get any closure, which must be partly down to the fact that you’ve never spoken about your crimes. The question of why still hangs over everything like a shadow.
But the public prosecutor came up with a reasonable answer, don’t you think?
That you wanted to study death?
Precisely.
But why exactly in that way? Why at the expense of the lives of those innocent children? I’ve done my homework and found out that there are already plenty of studies on the topic, but those were carried out by interviewing people who’d had near-death experiences. Nobody had to suffer for these interviews.
That may well be true, but the findings are based on the statements of adults. I’m convinced that the adult mind, through age and life experiences alone, tends to put things in a self-constructed context that is far more subjective.By contrast, what could be more authentic than the mind and soul of a child? Who would give you a more honest answer? Those girls were still young enough to be genuine, and old enough to articulate themselves in an intelligible way. I questioned them as the blood was running out of them. I asked them what they were feeling, what they were seeing, as their circulation gradually became weaker and their eyelids began to flutter. It was fascinating. They were freezing, they were scared, their breathing was panicky. But then, the longer it went on, the calmer and clearer they became. They told me about nice experiences they’d had with their parents, or about their pets. Some of them saw a light. It was uplifting, especially as they took their last breaths.
What specifically did you find out?
Love. I think that summarises what I discovered. They thought of lovely things, their families and animals. They made sure their final moments weren’t dark and panicky, but full of love and light.
With respect, that’s a pretty sick interpretation. It sounds as if you did good work. But you didn’t. You killed twelve innocent children and caused immeasurable pain to their families.
In the end, that’s nothing more than an interpretation too. I wish I could show you my notes, although it has to be pointed out that the number of girls was far too small to constitute a meaningful study.
Where are they, these notes?
I burned them, I’m afraid. Rather rash of me.
When?
The evening I was arrested, just before the police turned up. I had a hunch that I might be in trouble after I’d bumped into that acquaintance in the Königswald. Particularly as I’d already been questioned about the murders in relation to a lecture I’d given. . . Are you all right? You look so pale again.
No matter how hard I try, I simply can’t understand. Especially as you’re a father yourself.
Yes, that’s right, I am a father. That was always the best thing about me.Shewas the best thing about me. And what’s more, she was the one who gave me the red ribbon idea.
She?
Oh, please, Herr Wesseling! Didn’t I tell you last time that I did some research into you beforehand? I know your personal connection to the cases isn’t that you met Larissa Meller’s mother, but that you’re a friend of my daughter’s. That’s also why, out of all the requests for interviews I’ve had over the years, yours is the only one I’ve consented to. Or did you think it was down to your reputation as a journalist? Don’t delude yourself, there are plenty in your profession more talented than you.
(clears throat)Anyway, are you saying it was Ann who put you on to the idea of the red ribbons?
Uh-huh. The first Christmas after my wife’s death, I gave her a trampoline. The box was too big for wrapping paper so I just tied a red ribbon around it. Ann put it around her head like a hairband– to make herself pretty, as she said. Then she lay in the box as if it were a coffin. Those images imprinted themselves on my mind. A lost girl who wanted to be found. And, later, other lost girls who also had to be found.
You do realise the damage you’ve done to your daughter too?
‘Pain and suffering are always inevitable for a large intelligence and a deep heart,’ Dostoevsky said.
She wrote you letters!
I read them.
You ought to have talked to her.
To say what? She wasn’t at the stage where she could understand.
Nobody, Herr Lesniak, will ever understand.
(chuckles) It’s possible.
All the same, I’d be interested to know why, after all these years, you’re now ready to talk.
