Page 75 of Anatomy of a Killer
I feel giddy; the knife is trembling in my hand. I want them to stop, both of them.
‘You made sure we had a certain standard of living, Steffen, that’s all. But we never needed a big house or extravagant holidays. We just needed each other and you’re not going to take that away from us. Lenia and I—’
I can’t take this any longer; I don’t want to hear any more. ‘Lenia is dead, Nathalie!’ I shout. ‘You’ve got to stop lying to yourself!’
‘No, Ann! No, she isn’t!’ she exclaims, making an uncoordinated gesture. ‘This is precisely what I’ve been trying to get through to you the whole time! It’sourstory, we’re writing it ourselves! It’s dynamic and can change with every word. We alone have the power over the characters and what happens. Look at him—’
‘Nathalie, what are you talking about?’ Fester comes towards her, but Nathalie is unfazed and remains facing me.
‘Hecould be the ribbon murderer! Let’s say he’s just admitted it to us! He’s kidnapped and killed little girls for so many years. Because he’s a sick bastard by nature. Just look what he did to me, Ann! When I became suspicious of Steffen and fled Berlin because I was afraid of him, he came looking for me and finally tracked me down here. Look! Just look what he’s capable of!’
Then everything happens very fast.
She rushes at me. Grabs my right wrist and thrusts it towards her. The knife is now stuck in Nathalie’s stomach. I want to scream, pull the knife out, do something– but no, I’m totally paralysed. Fester steps in, tries to grab the knife. Now Nathalie forces my hand in his direction. He screams and falls to the floor. I hear myself screaming too, I scream and scream; I’m never going to stop. Everything stretches out, I now see it all in slow motion. Nathalie, bent over, struggling to the bed, collapsing on it. Fester, his hand pressed to the left side of his chest, falling to his knees. ‘Tell me where she is!’ he beseeches.
But Nathalie closes her eyes and smiles. ‘And they all lived. . .’
Us
. . . happily ever after.
Right, my angel, that’s it, time to go to sleep. That really was a long story tonight. . . What? What are you saying? That it wasn’t a proper ending and you want to hear what happened afterwards? What my little angel wants, my little angel gets. So listen carefully. Mummy was lying injured on the bed. The dragon was dead. Our friend Ann called an ambulance and the police. She told the officers what had happened and especially about the confession she’d just heard. Before the dragon died, you see, he admitted that he’d killed lots of little girls, crimes which Ann’s father was innocently in prison for. For a long time Mummy had suspected that something wasn’t right about the man we’d thought of as your daddy. That in reality he was just a dragon in a clever disguise. That’s also why we had to leave Berlin. But then the dragon tracked us down and of course he was really angry. He killed Kerstin because I’d confided in her. He was worried, you see, that Kerstin might get the police involved, and he had to do everything he could to prevent this. He even tried to kill Ann, but I managed to stop him just in time. Now he’s dead and we don’t have to be frightened ever again. He won’t hunt us anymore, and we can look forward to a future we’ve more than deserved after all the hardships we’ve suffered. Spring, my angel, spring is on its way. You and I, we’ll dance hand in hand across the meadow, amongst daisies, ground elder and red clover. We’ll puff up our cheeks and send dandelion clocks on their way. Free, we’re free. Don’t worry that they’re taking us to hospital first. It’s quite normal and unfortunately we have to go because I’m hurt. Can you see? There’s blood coming out of my tummy and my lovely white nightie is soaked red. It looks worse than it really is, but of course the doctors have to patch it up. Apart from the physical injuries, they’re going to want to give us psychological treatment too, my darling. But you don’t have to worry about this either, as it’s also perfectly normal after what we’ve been through. They’ll say that we’re suffering severe trauma brought on by our stressful flight from your father, the dragon, the child-killer who’s caused so much misery. But we stopped him, my darling, we put an end to his terrible deeds. You and I and our dear friend Ann. Even the papers are writing about us, you know? They’re saying I’m a heroine. It’s flattering but no, no, really not. I’m not a heroine. I’m just a mother who would defeat any dragon out of love for her child. We did it, we got through it. Because we will get through everything so long as we’re together. You and I, princess, for ever and ever and ever. . .
That really is the end now, okay. We badly need some sleep as it’s been an exhausting day. I love you, princess. Goodnight. . .
Ann
Schergel, 29 December 2017
Nathalie has lost a lot of blood; the ambulance has already departed. Police cars are parked beneath the property. Although the blue lights are flashing silently, light is still light and it’s doing what light does: attracting the moths. The first villagers, the nosy ones, those after a bit of a thrill. Brock is bound to be here soon with his camera, and Jakob, too, I hope. A few police officers ensure the locals are kept at an adequate distance from the house. I’m sitting on the frozen steps by the front door. How long have I been here? I don’t know. It’s light now; the sky is blue and there’s even some sunshine. As if nature didn’t know what’s appropriate on a day like this. Everything ought to be grey and murky, as if the sky had slipped and were hanging menacingly over my head, about to collapse at any moment. At least I can rely on the iciness. It’s eating its way through my jeans, my kidneys are aching, and I bet I’m going to catch the most severe cold of my life after today. I don’t care; there are worse things in life. A woman who chooses to get stabbed by a knife and, on top of this, injures her ex-husband. Steffen Fester’s lucky he was wearing a thick coat. Although the wound between his ribs is more than a scratch, the treatment he got from the emergency doctor means he can stay here while the police search the house. I take the stone from my trouser pocket. A reminder of what I’ve come through in my life.
‘Here you are.’ Steffen Fester comes up from behind and stands next to me. He takes off his coat, puts it around my shoulders and groans as he sits down. There’s a huge bloodstain on his beige cardigan.
‘You ought to be in hospital,’ I say.
Fester glances at the stain. ‘What’s that compared to the nightmare of these last few weeks?’
I just nod, twiddling the stone in my hand, deep in thought.
‘She never was. . .’ Fester shakes his head. ‘You know, she was a perfectly normal woman, never unstable in any way. She even got through Lenia’s illness with such courage and optimism. Although she was aware of the risks, she always said they were just statistics, and they mostly concerned men who died before they reached the age of 56.’
‘Lenia was ill? I’m sorry, I didn’t know.’
For a few seconds, Fester’s face is expressionless, then he makes a noise signalling astonishment.
‘But that’s what this was all about.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well. . .’ Fester looks at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. ‘Lenia had epilepsy. Although she took medication regularly, she still had the occasional seizure. Two years ago, in 2015, she had a serious fit in which she fell, knocking out her front teeth. After that, they adjusted her medication and things went really well. I couldn’t imagine that. . .’ He shakes his head again. ‘I didn’t leave Nathalie because of Lenia’s illness, you’ve got to believe me. We just drifted apart. She and Lenia stayed on in our old house. Anyway. . .’ He looks down at his hands. ‘It was a Saturday morning on one of the weekends I was going to have Lenia. I turned up early and Nathalie was still in her nightie when she opened the door to me. She said Lenia was still asleep and that we’d wake her up together.’ I hear him swallow. ‘We found her lying on her tummy with her head in the pillow. She’d bitten her tongue, making it bleed, and wet herself. She must have had a serious fit in her sleep, probably leading to breathing problems. But because she didn’t wake up, she didn’t realise she wasn’t getting any air. It was too late.’
I realise my own breathing is fitful, my chest constricting. ‘But I thought the ribbon murderer. . .’
‘It happened in early November,’ Fester says. ‘At the time when the latest case in the series of ribbon murders was all over the media. The girl. . . I think her name was Sophie. She was abducted from a playground and dragged off to the Königswald.’
I nod weakly. According to Nathalie, that was exactly what had happened to Lenia.He kidnapped Lenia from a playground and took her to a hut in the Königswald.
‘Nathalie became completely obsessed with the story,’ Fester continues. ‘I think she blamed herself for Lenia’s death, as if she ought to have noticed there was something wrong with her. But she slept soundly while our daughter died in the next-door room. You must have seen the picture on the fridge?’
