Page 60 of Anatomy of a Killer
‘Nathalie! That’s what she told me earlier:everybody has their own lies.’
‘Is this about Nathalie?’
I nod wildly. ‘And do you know what else she said, albeit this afternoon when I helped her with her shopping?’
‘You helped—?’
‘She talked ofelevengirls who’d fallen victim to the ribbon murderer.Eleven!Not ten! And before you say anything, no, she can’t have included Sarah. Her exact words were:Because the other eleven girls all came from Berlin.’
Jakob gets up off the bed, muttering, and wanders over to the window. Although I’m finding it hard to keep quiet, I leave him to ponder his thoughts for a moment. I realise this is quite a lot for him to take in: a brand-new theory, a bizarre scenario. ‘It doesn’t sound completely off the wall,’ he says eventually, turning back to me. ‘But I think it’s more likely that Nathalie– like everyone else– has simply read the papers and seen the news. And someone not directly involved wouldn’t know for sure whether there were ten or eleven victims.’
‘All right, then, what about Nestorstrasse? How would she know that if she comes from Wuppertal? Or Wiesbaden? Or from wherever else– maybe even Berlin?’
‘Don’t tell me you’ve never visited another city as a tourist. How about relatives living elsewhere?’ He comes closer and places his hands on my shoulders. ‘You’ve got to understand—’
‘No, you’ve got to understand, Jakob! We were wondering how Steinhausen hit on Schergel. What he’s doing here. It’s because of Nathalie! She’s the reason! He’s playing games with her! He wants her to know he’s here and that’s why he kidnapped her friend’s daughter and killed Kerstin. He wants to torture her, present her with a window on her own future. As if to tell her that she won’t even be able to save her child from him.’
Now Jakob bursts out laughing. ‘We’re talking about the woman who earlier on walked through a dark village all on her own. Would you do that if you felt there was a crazed killer after you and your daughter?’
‘She was completely on edge, Jakob! She literally hotfooted it out of the meeting! She knows! She knows her family’s in danger! But it seems like she’s going to confront the killer on her own!’ Within seconds, I’ve taken a second sweatshirt from my bag, in an attempt to make up for the jacket that the police confiscated. Jakob just gawps. ‘For goodness’ sake, Ann!’
That sceptical look he’s giving me. There’s concern in his face; he’s become genuinely friendly towards me, or at least has got used to me and my ways. But of course there’s the other side to him, the journalist, who in this situation can spot something fantastic to milk. If the protagonist is right, she’s a heroine who might end up saving a number of lives. But what would he have to write if she’s wrong? That she got carried away and became obsessed with her quest to prove her father’s innocence?
‘Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten why you came with me to Schergel,’ I say. ‘I just want you to realise that I’ve begun to properly trust you.’ As if to prove it, I hold out my left arm with the scar on my wrist. ‘Only five people know about this: my dad, Eva, my friend Zoe, Ludwig– and you.’
‘I trust you too,’ Jakob says, nodding, although he doesn’t look me in the eye.
‘Let’s go then. You can always decide later whether you came as a friend or journalist. And to be quite honest, Jakob, I’d rather read an article about an overly cautious madwoman who got it wrong than someone who failed to act at the right moment.’
He nods again, decisively this time, and straight at me.
We leave the inn quietly and again by the back entrance. Judging by the noise coming from the dining room, the meeting is still in full flow. Out the front is a group of smokers; we go the long way round like thieves in the night. Taking the car might attract attention so we walk. Jakob asks me what I’m expecting. I say I just want to talk to Nathalie. I want to know what’s up. That’s all. We’re not in some film where we turn up in the nick of time, as the killer is launching the big finale. And yet it’s a strange feeling walking along the dark village street– a cold feeling on the back of the neck that we’re being watched or followed.
‘We haven’t even got a weapon,’ Jakob comments, making a sound that was probably meant to be a laugh, but which got caught somewhere in his throat. ‘I mean, when I think of everything you said. . . the idea that Steinhausen’s playing games with Nathalie. If all of that is really true. . .’ Another sound, with a slight quiver in its tone. And he’s right. How can I be so convinced and yet so careless? What if we really do come across Steinhausen? I shake my head– just at myself. It’s true, Ann. You’ve gone mad, you’ve totally lost it. The thing with Dad, the thing with Eva and then Nathalie, whose pretty face has got you in all of a fluster. You’re distraught, bewildered and lonely.
‘Is this the right way?’ Jakob does a 360-degree turn as he walks. We’ve left the village behind and now the path to the upper common rises before us. At least I hope it’s that. I think of Nathalie and how she asked if she ought to have dropped a few crumbs of bread for me.Keep going straight, I replied.
‘Keep going straight,’ I now tell Jakob. And I’m right.
A veil of mist has gathered below the house, which in the moonlight looks like thick, white smoke. The snow reflects it too; it’s the only light to guide us. Inside the house itself, all is dark, or at least that’s how it looks, for, just like this afternoon, the shutters are closed.
‘Looks abandoned,’ Jakob whispers as we approach from the side in a wide arc.
‘They’ve got to be there,’ I answer. ‘Nathalie doesn’t have a car. They wouldn’t be able to get away from here so quickly.’
‘Maybe they’re already asleep.’
‘Maybe.’
We extend our arc around the front of the house to make for a stand of trees, which means wading laboriously through knee-high snow, as hard as concrete. It breaks and crunches far too loudly in this eerie silence. Here we stay hidden for a while; we call it ‘observation’, though it’s more likely uncertainty as to what to do next.
‘Okay, Jakob,’ I say, when I notice that his eyes are on me rather than the house. ‘This is what we’ll do: you wait here and I’ll wander over.’ I wave my mobile. ‘Put your phone on silent. I’ll call you and stay on the line while I talk to her. That way you’ll hear everything and can intervene if necessary.’
He shakes his head. ‘No way. We’ll go together. What if Steinhausen really—?’
‘Let’s assume that everything’s fine and I’ve only come to see Nathalie for a chat. I don’t want to frighten the poor woman.’
‘You’re not so sure anymore, are you?’
