The Body on the Beach Page 10

  Lena waited patiently for her old school friend to get to the interesting part. She knew from experience that she needed to hold back at this point.

  ‘It happened one morning. The kids were out of the house; Frau Bohlen and Anna were shopping. I was in the kitchen prepping the lunch, like every day. He came in and asked if he could help. Of course he didn’t need to, but he stayed anyway. He talked and talked. I think I stopped listening at some point. Next thing I know he’s behind me, pressing himself against me and kissing my neck. I probably don’t need to explain to you what his hands were doing.’

  Lena could tell how difficult it was for Rosa to talk about the incident. Her hands moved nervously around the tabletop, her cheeks were flushed and she avoided eye contact with Lena.

  ‘I froze. I mean, you read about things like that happening but it’s never happened to me before. He probably saw it as his cue to keep going. He pulled up my skirt and . . .’ Rosa Behrens faltered. Lena leaned forward and placed her hand on top of hers.

  ‘At last I reacted, shoved him off me and . . .’ She swallowed. ‘I ran out of the kitchen. He caught up with me in the hallway. No, not like you think. He apologised over and over, swearing that he hadn’t meant to upset me. It was probably wrong of me to keep quiet about it. I don’t know. I mean, nothing happened, or almost nothing. Or at least that’s what I told myself. I really wanted to keep my job. I like it here – apart from that one incident . . .’

  While Rosa was talking, she kept glancing at the door, expecting Lena’s colleague back at any moment.

  Lena picked up her phone. ‘I’ll text Johann to start interviewing the casual staff. Then we’ll have a little more time to ourselves.’

  Rosa looked relieved. ‘I guess you’ll understand that I didn’t exactly seek out his company after that,’ she continued. ‘He never tried it on again. Not with me, at least.’ Lena looked at her expectantly. ‘I really can’t say. Like I said, I’m always in the kitchen. I honestly don’t know if he’s done it to anyone else.’

  ‘Can you remember exactly when this happened?’

  ‘Of course! It was a year after he got married – almost to the day. Mid-May. I don’t know the exact date but it was a Tuesday. Is that close enough?’

  ‘Yes, thanks. In any case, it’s no longer relevant from a legal perspective now that Hein Bohlen is dead. But back to your co-workers. Did you ever notice anything that might suggest he molested someone else? Anna Bauer quit without notice. Do you think he might have tried it on with her?’

  ‘I swear I’d tell you, Lena, but I just don’t know.’ She sighed. ‘Maybe I didn’t want to know. Ever since the incident two years ago . . . Well, I try to focus on my work rather than on my co-workers. Anna never said anything but, then again, I was off sick when she upped and left. I didn’t even get a chance to say goodbye – that’s how fast it all happened.’

  ‘And Isabel Müller? Do you think he . . . ?’

  ‘Maybe. I did notice how he was with her. It reminded me a little of my situation two years ago. But she’s a tough woman. She told me once that she does martial arts – don’t ask me to remember which one, though. He would’ve got himself a black eye.’ She halted, considering the meaning of her words. ‘But I don’t think she had anything to do with his death.’

  ‘It’s all right, Rosa. I know how you meant it. I’m afraid I have to ask you where you were on the night of Bohlen’s death.’

  She grinned. ‘I need an alibi? Exciting. Well, if I remember correctly, I was at a birthday party. Do you need names?’

  ‘If possible, please. And a phone number.’

  ‘Sure thing. So he was actually murdered? Like, properly?’ She saw Lena’s look and added, ‘Of course, you can’t talk about it.’

  ‘That’s right. But I have one more question.’

  ‘Shoot!’

  ‘What was the Bohlens’ marriage like, do you think?’

  Rosa groaned. ‘Well, I was expecting to be asked that, but that was before I knew it was you who’d be interrogating me.’

  ‘Interviewing,’ Lena said.

  ‘Or that. But you must promise not to tell the boss. Please.’

  Lena nodded. ‘I think I can do that.’

  ‘OK! Let me put it this way: I never understood why they got married in the first place. Not then, not now. And everything I saw later confirmed my initial feeling. They certainly were no fairy-tale couple.’

  ‘Did they argue much?’

  ‘Not like that. The boss – Frau Bohlen, that is – is more the type to play mind games. She goes all quiet. You can practically see it stewing in her. The atmosphere’s always icy when she’s like that – deepest Siberia, so to speak. If I hadn’t had my own experience with Hein Bohlen, I’d have felt sorry for him.’

  ‘Do you think Frau Bohlen has psychological problems?’

  ‘Lena, I’m a cook, not a psychologist. But her mood swings remind me very much of my mother, who also had a difficult man at home. Sabine is very hard-working and would do anything for the kids, but you didn’t ask about that.’

  ‘Thank you for your honesty. You’ve helped me a great deal.’

  ‘No problem. It’s in all of our interests. I feel sick at the thought of a murderer walking around out there.’

  ‘Don’t worry, we’ll get to the bottom of it. One more question. Did you notice any strangers visiting the home in the last few months?’

  ‘Good question. The kitchen windows look out on to the back. I never saw anyone round there. As I said, since the incident with Hein, I pretty much stick to the kitchen.’ She leaned her head back and breathed deeply. ‘But you’re right, there was someone, a man I didn’t know. He didn’t look like someone from social services, more like a businessman. I know the accountant and everyone at the bank. No, he must have been an outsider. If I remember it right, Hein Bohlen wasn’t overly pleased to see me in the hallway. He ushered his visitor into his office and seemed annoyed when I asked if they needed coffee or anything. Does that help at all?’

  ‘When was this, and can you describe the man?’

  ‘About two weeks before Hein Bohlen . . . died. The man? Oh dear. Around fifty, I’d say. Dark hair, no beard, Mediterranean type, but a native German speaker, I could tell. But other than that – suits all look the same to me. White shirt, tie, dark jacket. I don’t even know if I’d recognise him again.’

  ‘Do you think your boss was afraid of him?’

  ‘I wasn’t really close enough to tell. Nervous, definitely, and as I said, he was annoyed when I showed up.’

  ‘All right, that’ll be all for now. You’ve been a great help – how exactly remains to be seen. Every item of information is like a piece of a puzzle and it’s our job to put it together somehow. Sometimes the pieces fit and sometimes they don’t.’

  Rosa Behrens nodded thoughtfully. ‘Shame you’re here for work. Would’ve been good to have a cup of tea with you some time.’ She grinned. ‘Or some bubbly. But you’re probably not allowed to meet with suspects privately, are you?’

  ‘You’re a witness, so I don’t see a problem. How about you give me your number? I don’t know how long I’ll be on the island yet. There might be enough time.’

  ‘Awesome! I’ll put a bottle in the fridge.’

  ‘You live on your own?’

  ‘More or less,’ Rosa replied. ‘I never seem to find Mr Right. So far, no man has ever wanted the same as me. People seem to think just because you don’t look half bad, men must be lining up outside your door! But what men, I ask? My man hasn’t turned up yet. And unfortunately, you can’t bake one. Not to mention the choice on our beautiful little island is rather limited . . . And what about you?’

  Lena stood up. ‘Let’s save that story for another time. I promise I’ll tell you everything when we meet up.’

  ‘Can’t wait! But catch the murderer first, please.’

  Lena found her colleague in the kitchen, interviewing one of the casual staff.

  ‘Tha
nk you,’ he was saying to a short, rotund woman in her fifties. ‘I have no further questions.’

  The woman nodded and left the kitchen.

  ‘I’m finished with the two casuals,’ he said to Lena. ‘Should we pay Frau Bohlen another visit?’

  ‘Definitely. Did you learn anything else about the Bohlens’ relationship?’

  ‘Between the lines, yes. Sounds like there was a lot of tension.’

  They found Sabine Bohlen in the office. Lena knocked at the half-open door. ‘May we speak with you for a moment, please?’

  ‘Certainly,’ she said, gesturing to the chairs in front of her desk.

  The two detectives sat down. ‘Your husband put a very large sum of money towards the purchase of this house – eight hundred thousand euros, to be precise. We’ve found out that the statement concerning the source of this money was falsified.’

  Sabine Bohlen stared at them in shock. ‘Falsified? That simply can’t be true. What are you trying to pin on my husband now?’

  ‘Do you know anything about it?’

  ‘No, that was well before my time. My husband told me he’d won the lottery.’

  ‘Well, he wasn’t telling the truth. The tax office will be in touch about this.’ Sabine Bohlen swallowed. Lena went on. ‘We spent yesterday trying to build up a picture of your husband’s life. You kindly gave us a list of his friends and associates. Do you think the list is complete, or have you thought of anyone else in the meantime?’

  ‘Of course it’s complete. Why should I leave anyone out?’

  ‘Do you know a Herbert Bergendorf?’

  ‘Here in Norddorf?’

  ‘One of his residences is in Nebel.’

  ‘No, I’ve never heard of him. Why?’

  ‘No particular reason. We came across his name during the course of our inquiries.’ Lena unfolded the sheet of paper with the list of names and handed it to Sabine Bohlen. ‘Can you think of anyone on this list who might have had something against your husband? Did he perhaps have an outstanding disagreement with anyone?’

  ‘Possibly. It’s normal for people not always to see eye to eye, but I don’t know about any actual dispute.’

  ‘From what we’ve learned about your husband so far, he wasn’t always . . . Let’s just say he wasn’t the most balanced person. He lost his temper every now and then.’

  ‘Nonsense! You can’t believe everything people tell you. My husband was a very kind man. Everyone gets angry from time to time, but that’s no reason to murder him.’

  ‘Did you two fight a lot?’ inquired Lena in a casual tone, as though it were hardly relevant.

  Sabine Bohlen took a moment before grasping the meaning, then her face hardened. She stared at Lena as she asked, ‘Who told you this nonsense?’

  ‘Like I said, we’ve spent the last twenty-four hours familiarising ourselves with your husband’s life, including your marital relationship. How bad were things between you?’

  ‘I’ve said everything I want to say on the subject,’ Sabine Bohlen hissed at Lena with an angry glare.

  ‘There’s a . . . let’s call it a gap in your CV. About ten years ago, you took a year off?’

  ‘How is that relevant?’

  ‘Standard procedure. Were you on sick leave?’

  ‘Even if I was, it wouldn’t be any of your business. Why don’t you find my husband’s murderer instead of snooping around in my life?’

  ‘Frau Bohlen,’ Johann said with a warm smile, ‘we have to try to get a clear picture of everyone in the victim’s vicinity. We don’t have a choice: it’s standard procedure. When a new child arrives here at the home, I bet you’re grateful for any background information you can get to help you form a more complete picture of the child.’ He spoke softly and with great empathy, eventually adding, ‘Were you on sick leave?’

  Sabine Bohlen’s attention was fixed solely on Johann now. ‘Sick leave – what does that really mean? I didn’t work because I was unwell. Things like that happen.’

  ‘Were you in treatment?’

  Sabine Bohlen shrugged. Then she stood up. Still looking at Johann, she muttered, ‘I don’t feel well. I need to lie down. Please would you come back later.’

  ‘No problem, Frau Bohlen,’ Johann said and got to his feet.

  I regret nothing.

  Someone had to put an end to his doings and hold him accountable.

  They say vigilantes lead to social chaos, but there are exceptions. When the government is blind and can’t protect its citizens, they have to do it themselves.

  Now the police are here, but it’ll be the same as usual. The mighty are untouchable, and if anyone gets punished, it’ll be the wrong ones.

  I’ve decided I’m no longer a victim. I’m going to fight. It’s time to show the world what’s been going on – what’s still going on all over the country. We need the courage to stand up and act against this injustice.

  It’s men who commit this injustice and it’s men who protect them.

  It’s high time something happened.

  And I’ve started.

  12

  ‘Did we push a little too hard there?’ asked Johann as Lena steered the Passat through Norddorf.

  ‘Well, we’re not bloody social workers. How many truly pleasant interviews have you sat in on? As far as I’m concerned, not many. It’s our job to dig up secrets people try to hide or forget. We can never dig deep enough – especially not in this case. We’ve got bugger all so far, other than raising a bit of dust. And I don’t have to tell you that most murder victims know their killer. We still don’t even know how Hein Bohlen was killed. If it really was a rare poison, the killer must have got it from somewhere and probably has some medical knowledge.’

  ‘Frau Bohlen doesn’t strike me as someone capable of that level of premeditation,’ Johann said.

  ‘Maybe that’s what she wants us to believe. In fact, is there anyone who does strike you as a likely person?’ Lena pulled up in a car park outside Norddorf. ‘I need some fresh air. How about a walk?’

  Just up ahead lay the path along the Wadden coast. They followed it south.

  ‘I think best when I walk,’ Lena said. She told Johann what Rosa Behrens had confided in her.

  ‘Sounds like the mysterious stranger really exists,’ Johann said. ‘But he could turn out to be completely harmless. We won’t get far with the descriptions people have given us, in any case. The attempted rape is more interesting, though. Maybe he didn’t actually give up but went ahead and raped the cook – that could be a motive.’

  ‘Or Isabel Müller didn’t tell us the whole truth and he molested her as well. What about the casual staff? Did either of them hint that Hein Bohlen might have come a little too close?’

  ‘No, not at all. They’re both aged between fifty and sixty and I’m guessing he liked them younger. But Isabel Müller would definitely fit the bill.’

  Lena rolled her eyes. ‘Men. We’re talking about a serious offence here.’

  They continued their stroll along the coastal path. A couple came towards them from the opposite direction, greeted them and walked on towards Norddorf. Lena gradually relaxed as the soothing effect of the island worked on her spirits.

  ‘You’re right,’ Johann replied. ‘It’s serious. If Isabel Müller really was one of his victims, she knows how to hide it well, but I didn’t get the impression she was keeping anything from us. And it’d be next to impossible to prove.’

  ‘She did get a touch nervous when we asked about her relationship with her boss, but then immediately recovered. Still, let’s keep it in mind. I wonder if Sabine Bohlen knew her husband had assaulted at least one of their employees? That might explain all their problems together.’

  ‘But would it be reason enough to kill him?’ asked Johann. ‘Unless he violated her as well. But if the cook’s telling the truth, the incident involving her took place ages ago. Why would Frau Bohlen wait so long to kill her husband? It makes no sense. And if the women knew about one
another, they could have reported him together. He’d have been put away for a few years, at the very least.’

  ‘It’s not enough of a motive for me. I’d have thought a crime of passion was more likely in those circumstances – self-defence, so to speak. But our case is nothing like that.’

  ‘What about some kind of preventative measure before he could cause any more harm: one – or all three – of the women decide to get rid of him?’

  ‘Doesn’t sound likely to me,’ Lena said. ‘We should ask to see the will. Sabine Bohlen told us she’s the sole beneficiary, but I’d like to be sure. I can’t stop thinking about the gap in her CV. The way she reacted, it could have been mental illness. If it was serious, or still is, it might have some relevance to our case. Maybe she experienced some form of violence in the past – her year out might even be connected with that. And finding out that her new husband was molesting other women might have brought all sorts of feelings of anger and disappointment to the surface. Where did she work before her year out?’

  Johann pulled out his notebook. ‘An orphanage near Münster. Then after the year-long gap she moved north to Oldenburg in Niedersachsen.’

  ‘That’s where Isabel Müller’s brother committed suicide. Where was she working?’

  ‘She worked as a social worker for the local authority. A straight office job, as far as I can tell.’

  ‘So no more direct contact with people. Might have had something to do with her illness.’

  Johann stopped. He cleared his throat. ‘Isn’t that taking it a little far? She could have had all sorts of reasons to take a year out, and even if she had a breakdown – for whatever reason – why should it have anything to do with our case? It doesn’t feel right to . . . dissect the victim’s wife like that.’

  ‘She could have simply answered our question,’ Lena replied.

  ‘Most people would rather keep a mental illness secret, and for good reason. Society is extremely quick to write someone off as unstable, a loser or whatever. Look, she is in charge of a children’s home, after all. I wouldn’t want to go shouting it from the rooftops.’