Page 11 of Anatomy of a Killer
But I keep my cool. After all, Elke isn’t a newspaper dispenser, she’s a human being who could be seriously hurt. I assure her that everything’s okay and thank her politely– for whatever. Then I unlock the front door.
‘Eva’s coming too.’
I flinch, as if she’d just given me a slap. Eva, probably the only– albeit major– crease in the otherwise impeccably ironed life of Elke and Caspian Harbert. Their daughter, who took flight the moment she’d finished school. Away from the strict mother and her lapdog of a husband, away from a house full of scatter cushions and the stench of Dettol, away from the pressure to achieve and the feeling of never being good enough. I can’t recall her ever visiting her parents since, not at Christmas nor on any other occasion. Dream on, Elke.
‘All I’m saying is. . . the two of you used to be inseparable.’
We were. Until Eva abandoned me as well as her parents, absconding with Nico, the boy whose motorbike I’d scratched the previous year out of jealousy. There were rumours that she might be pregnant by him, and even more rumours when Nico returned to Berlin alone only a few months later.
‘Send her my regards,’ I mutter, before dashing into the house and locking the door behind me. I close my eyes and take calm breaths until I start hearing noises coming from upstairs. A chair scraping across the old floorboards, then footsteps creaking. Finally I hear the door to the study and my father’s voice. ‘Beetle? Is that you?’
Who else could it be, Dad?
‘How was uni?’ The footsteps come closer.
Boring as usual. German isn’t exactly the thing for adrenaline junkies.
‘I could have told you that straight off.’ The stairs creak beneath his lively tread. Now he’s beside me, saying, ‘Shall we have a coffee first? You look like you could do with one.’
I smile and open my eyes. But there’s nobody there– of course not; it’s just my imagination. A few moments that are lovely to begin with, then painful as they fade. I slip the rucksack off my back, take off his jacket and then the boots, which have left a brownish puddle on the light-coloured floorboards. It doesn’t bother me. I want to go into the kitchen to make some coffee and also to fetch the cup from the living room that’s been on the table since this morning– save resources, the dishwasher is full. Although I go straight past the windows that lead on to the terrace, I don’t see it at first, not until I’m grabbing the cup and look up by chance.
Just my imagination again, is my first thought.
I blink a few times, to be certain. But no matter how often I open and close my eyes, it’s still there: the red ribbon tied around a branch of the dead oleander on our terrace.
RECORDING 01
Berlin, 7 May 2021
To be honest, I’d imagined you to be quite different.
Really? How?
Well, I mean, I’ve seen photos of you, of course, but. . . I thought you’d have some evil aura about you. I thought it would be tangible somehow. Do you understand?
Oh dear!
Yes, silly, isn’t it?
Oh well, I suspect you’re rather nervous. You have been after me for years, I suppose. So am I right in my assumption that this is going to be the grand finale? You and me and all our cards on the table, hmm? The end of the hunt, the hunter trapped.
Is that how you see yourself? As a hunter?
No, as a matter of fact, but I get the impression you like a bit of drama. People like me are supposed to have difficulty reading others. But do you know what? I always had a good inkling of my opponent’s needs. You learn what people want, their longings, fears, desires– basically all of these are mere templates you can interpret according to a fixed pattern.
So you’re more of an actor, then?
Yes, and I think a rather good one at that. By the way, does your mother know what you’re doing here? Isn’t she worried about you?
My mother? I don’t know what my mother’s got—
Calm down. You want me to share my secrets with you. It’s not something one does with any old person, is it? I’d like to get to know you first.
I. . . All right, I don’t have a mother anymore. She’s dead. But if she were still alive, I’d tell her she needn’t worry.
(grins)But I’m a killer. And I’ve got nothing to lose.
Are you threatening me?
