The Body on the Beach Page 2

  ‘Yes, see you later, Detective Inspector.’

  Lena sighed. Not a promising start. She certainly didn’t need a chaperone or some earnest, blue-eyed youth. She only hoped Johann Grasmann was OK at research so she could keep him busy and out of her way.

  She started up the engine and drove out of the city centre. A short drive later, she pulled up outside the attic flat she rented, opened the front door of the building and took the stairs, two steps at a time. Checking her watch, she unlocked the door to her flat, her heart thumping in her chest.

  I must take up running again, she thought as she walked along the short hallway. Her living space was basically one large room built into the roof of the house. A wall partitioned off her bedroom space from the open-plan kitchenette and seating area. The large skylights gave the room the feel of a conservatory.

  Lena grabbed her large duffel bag from a shelf and started to pack, then headed to the bathroom to fetch her toiletry bag. Pausing in front of the mirror, she inspected her appearance. As ever, her pale-blonde hair was tied back in a ponytail and she had gone without make-up. Do I look older than thirty-three? she asked herself and then shrugged. Maybe I should go to the hairdresser when I get back. She grinned at herself in the mirror. Or better yet, a whole week at the health spa?

  Her phone buzzed on the way out. She checked the display. Joe, her colleague and kind-of boyfriend from the Kiel constabulary. They’d been seeing each other on and off for over a year. He’d texted asking if she wanted to meet him that evening at the Leierkasten, a small pub downtown. On her way down the stairs, she texted back that she’d be out of town for a few days. He replied with three question marks. ‘Later,’ she muttered, stashing her phone back in her pocket.

  She climbed into her Passat and a few minutes later was on the main road to the autobahn. The steady hum of the engine put Lena into semi-autopilot. She adjusted the steering and kept a close eye on the congested traffic, but all the while her thoughts remained focussed on the case.

  She still couldn’t work out why DSU Warnke had landed her with this assignment. It couldn’t just be her upbringing on Amrum. There was something not quite right about Warnke’s sudden change from condescending superior to kindly colleague bestowing a seemingly important task upon her. He knew full well that Lena didn’t trust him and that he couldn’t count on her loyalty. Had he set her up to fail on purpose? But why?

  Her phone rang and she answered it using the hands-free.

  ‘It’s me,’ Joe said. ‘Where are you off to?’

  ‘Amrum,’ said Lena, trying to keep her tone neutral. She hated it when Joe checked up on her.

  ‘Work or pleasure?’

  ‘What do you think?’ replied Lena grumpily. She hadn’t told him much about her past, but enough for him to realise that she wasn’t off for a summer holiday on the island.

  ‘All right, take it easy. The body on the beach? I thought that was—’

  ‘You’re well informed.’

  ‘Woah, Lena. It was front-page news. What’s the matter?’

  ‘I need to focus on driving. Can we talk later?’

  He sighed. ‘OK, I understand. Keep in touch. Please?’

  ‘Catch you later,’ Lena said and hung up.

  She wondered why Joe always seemed to call at the worst possible moment. Now he’d be mulling over their brief conversation for hours. He’d been talking about them moving in together for months, and twice already he’d asked her to visit his parents in Frankfurt. Either he wasn’t put off by her dismissive attitude or he was drawing the wrong conclusions – and yet he was trained to read people. Right now, she wanted neither to move in with Joe nor visit his parents, and least of all to have to justify herself for it.

  Lena crossed from the A210 on to the A7. Just before Flensburg, she would need to leave the autobahn for the highway that led right across Schleswig-Holstein, from the Baltic Sea to the North Sea on the other side.

  Until just a few weeks ago, the landscape bordering the Baltic Sea had been bright yellow with flowering fields of rapeseed. Now, in mid-June, temperatures were pleasantly warm at around twenty degrees.

  Lena loved going for walks along the cliffs, with the wide-open space of the Baltic Sea to one side and blossoming rapeseed and green meadows to the other. Here, she could walk for hours, letting her thoughts drift. She rarely asked Joe to join her.

  Lena knew she couldn’t string him along for much longer. Even though Joe was only one year older than her, he was ready to settle down. They had never talked about marriage and children, but Lena was sure this was his dream. And she felt less than certain about being the one to fulfil that dream. She winced every time he spoke about love. Once again she asked herself if they really had a future together.

  On paper, Joe was the ideal man for her. He was a good listener, he was kind and he didn’t need to be the centre of attention. He was understanding of her huge need for space and the fact that she only wanted him close some of the time. Why couldn’t things just stay that way forever?

  An hour and a half later, Lena sighted the ferry dock at Dagebüll and, next to an old Golf, a young man who seemed to be on the lookout for someone. She pulled up beside him and let down the right-hand window.

  ‘You don’t happen to be a policeman, do you?’ asked Lena with a serious face.

  The young man blushed. ‘Detective Inspector Lorenzen from CID Kiel?’

  ‘I couldn’t have put it better myself.’

  Johann Grasmann stepped closer to the window. Lena judged him to be around twenty-five. His thick, dark hair was combed back neatly and he was freshly shaved. He wore black jeans, a tailored suit jacket of the same colour and, all in all, Lena thought he looked a little lost.

  ‘I’m—’

  ‘I know. I suggest you leave your car here and we carry on in mine.’

  Johann Grasmann turned towards his Golf as though bidding it farewell. Turning back to Lena once more, he nodded diligently. ‘OK, fine. I’ll just get my things.’

  Johann sat in the passenger seat in silence as they drove on to the car deck of the ferry, his briefcase on his knees.

  ‘Looks like we’re stuck with each other for a few days,’ Lena said. ‘First names will be easier.’ She parked in the designated spot, turned off the engine, and applied the handbrake before holding out her hand. ‘Agreed?’

  He nodded, embarrassed, but took her hand and said, ‘Johann.’

  Lena grinned. ‘I know. Lena. But you already knew that.’ She opened her door. ‘I need some fresh air. How about you fill me in upstairs?’

  A short while later, they were standing by the railing on the upper deck. The ferry had set off and was gaining speed.

  Lena inhaled deeply. ‘The North Sea breeze has its own particular charm.’ Johann remained silent, apparently considering her comment. ‘Don’t you think?’

  ‘I’m not sure. I’ve never thought about it.’

  ‘Where did you grow up?’

  He cleared his throat. ‘On the Lower Rhine. Near Kempen.’

  Lena grinned. ‘Not a lot of wind but rather Catholic?’

  Johann scratched his head. ‘Yes, I’d say you’ve hit the nail on the head.’ He grinned. ‘But once a year, at carnival, it’s where everyone wants to be.’

  ‘Oh, that’s right, I’d forgotten about that.’ Lena tilted back her head and took in another lungful of air. ‘OK, let’s talk about the case. I left as soon as I got the assignment. Can you bring me up to speed?’

  ‘Yes, ma’am!’ replied Johann eagerly.

  Lena shot him a stern look. ‘A little less of the formal, if you will.’

  ‘I’m sorry, but—’

  ‘It’s all right. Anything useful in the files? I only skimmed through them in Kiel. I’ll take a closer look tonight but, until then, can you give me an overview?’

  ‘Of course,’ Johann said, straightening up a little. ‘Our victim, Hein Bohlen, was fifty-one years old, a social educator and caregiver and director of t
he children’s home in Norddorf. Born in East Friesland, studied at Emden University, and eventually worked in homes near Leer and other cities throughout northern Germany. Fourteen years ago he bought a house on Amrum and converted it into a children’s residential care home, which opened a year later. The home takes up to fifteen boys aged from five to sixteen and employs six women. One of them is the victim’s wife, also a social educator and caregiver. There are two other full-time employees: an on-site teacher and the cook. Then there is a cleaner and two further casual staff. Hein Bohlen had no convictions but I don’t know if he ever had any run-ins with the law as a youth. Those files are either destroyed or under lock and key.’ Johann Grasmann looked at his notes and continued. ‘Bohlen’s GP classed the cause of death as a heart attack, but results from the subsequent autopsy suggest it was poisoning. We’re still awaiting final results.’

  He paused briefly and seemed to choose his next words carefully. ‘It would appear that the local uniforms didn’t do themselves too proud. You can imagine what it’s like in such a small community: everyone’s related or at least acquainted with each other, so a natural death is much more convenient for everyone, especially since the GP spoke of a previous illness and issued the death certificate without hesitation. So now it’s up to us to start from scratch.’ Johann sighed theatrically. ‘No suicide letter was found, and the brief statements from the wife and the two employees don’t suggest foul play. The victim was popular and involved in his community – he was a member of the church choir and the sports club. I reckon we should start with the doctor and carry on from there with the wife and staff.’

  ‘Do we know where Hein Bohlen got the money for the house and the renovations?’

  Johann scanned his notes. ‘No, or at least there’s nothing on file. But there’d have been no obligation to register that information. He probably just got a bank loan.’

  ‘Even fourteen years ago, house prices on Amrum were horrendous. Considering how big the house must be, we’re easily talking a million or more. No bank would have lent him that sort of money without a considerable deposit.’

  Johann made a note. ‘That should be easy enough to find out. I’ll pass it on to Flensburg in the morning.’

  ‘Don’t. If anyone knows, it’ll be the nearest tax office. We’ll ask them. Speaking of Flensburg, how come they picked you to assist me?’ Lena asked abruptly.

  Johann looked bewildered for a moment. ‘Three of my colleagues are on leave, another got injured playing sports at the weekend and is in hospital, two more are—’

  ‘Fine,’ Lena said, cutting him off. ‘We’ll return to that question another time. What’s your view on the case?’

  ‘Going by the evidence—’

  ‘I mean, what is your gut feeling?’

  Johann sighed and shrugged his shoulders.

  ‘Then we’re on the same page,’ Lena said in reply. ‘Like I said, I’m going to take a proper look through the files tonight and we’ll start right from the beginning tomorrow. To us, Hein Bohlen’s body was found only a few hours ago.’

  The ferry was on the open sea now. To their right, they could see Föhr in the distance, where the ferry would make a stop at Wyk before continuing to Wittdün on Amrum. Lena tried to work out how long it had been since her last visit to the island. Was it five or six years? Her Aunt Beke’s husband had died and Lena had gone to the funeral. She couldn’t help but smile when she thought of her favourite aunt. Beke Althusen was her mother’s older sister by nine years. She and Lena had always been close. Beke visited her niece in Kiel at least once a year and they spoke on the phone every few weeks.

  ‘I think we stop at Wyk on Föhr in about fifteen minutes,’ Johann Grasmann said, looking out toward the island. ‘And then on to Amrum.’

  Lena was startled from her thoughts. ‘You’ve never been to Amrum or Föhr?’

  ‘No, sadly not. After graduating from police training college I applied for a position in Flensburg. That was four years ago. I like to holiday in Scandinavia – Sweden, Norway. Great places for hiking in spring and autumn.’

  ‘I was born and raised on Amrum. I’m sure they told you.’

  ‘Yes, the boss did mention it.’

  ‘Did he warn you about me?’

  Johann shrugged.

  ‘And?’ asked Lena.

  ‘Not explicitly,’ Johann said eventually, looking very uncomfortable.

  ‘Well, really!’ said Lena with a grin. ‘I thought my reputation was worse than that.’ She decided to ask her colleague the same question again in a few days’ time.

  ‘We’re staying at a kind of community guest house,’ Johann said, eager to change the subject.

  ‘Not bad! How did you manage that?’

  He laughed. ‘I can be very tenacious, or at least my mother reckons so. Normally, the house is reserved for guests of the community. The last lodger was an author who stayed for six months. Kitchen, bathroom, two bedrooms, and even a small office – exactly what we need. And it’s in Norddorf.’

  Lena nodded. ‘Well done. I thought we’d need to camp out in some musty old hotel.’

  Johann beamed at the praise.

  Lena nudged him with her shoulder. ‘Looks like you and I might yet turn into a dream team, eh?’

  3

  ‘Lena! How lovely to hear from you,’ Beke said. ‘How are you?’

  ‘Good, thanks, Beke.’

  ‘The connection is terrible. Where are you?’

  ‘On the ferry, not far from Wittdün.’ Beke seemed too surprised to answer. ‘I’ll be working on the island for a few days.’

  ‘Hein Bohlen?’ asked Beke.

  ‘I can’t say. You know that.’

  ‘I know, deern, and it doesn’t matter. The main thing is, you’re here. Why don’t you stay here with me? I’ve got plenty of room.’

  ‘Thanks, Beke. My colleague and I already have somewhere fixed up through work, but I’ll try to get away for a couple of hours tomorrow to come and say hi. Would that suit you?’

  ‘As if you have to ask! Of course it does.’ She cleared her throat. ‘Does your father know you’re coming?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘But don’t you think—?’

  ‘Absolutely not. I feel exactly the same as I did before. Beke, we’re about to dock and I have to get back to my car. I’ll be in touch, promise.’

  ‘All right, deern. Look after yourself. There’s all kinds of talk.’

  ‘Will do, Beke. See you tomorrow.’

  Lena, who had gone to the next deck down to make the call, slipped her phone back in her pocket and made her way to the Passat. Johann had gone to the bathroom.

  As she sat at the steering wheel waiting for the bow to open, for the first time since she’d started this trip to Amrum Lena’s gut clenched, as it had done on so many trips in the past. How many times had she travelled between the two ports? She must have spent hundreds of hours on ferries during her school years. She had studied for tests on ferries, done her homework and filled one diary after the other. She assumed they were still hidden in the attic of her childhood home.

  ‘We can go,’ said Johann, rousing her from her thoughts.

  She started up the engine and followed a blue Volvo off the ferry. A police car was parked at the side of the road that led from the ferry terminal to the centre of the village. A policeman in uniform stood next to the car.

  ‘Welcome committee?’ asked Lena. ‘Did you call ahead?’

  ‘They asked me to. I thought—’

  ‘Let’s make one thing clear: if you want to work with me, you must always tell me every tiny detail to do with the case.’

  ‘I didn’t mean—’ Johann broke off when he saw Lena’s look.

  Eventually, he muttered, ‘OK’, and wound down the window when they reached the policeman. The man – mid-fifties, beginnings of a paunch, red hair – smiled frostily.

  ‘DS Johann Grasmann, Flensburg police,’ Johann said by way of introduction and then turned br
iefly to Lena. ‘And this is DI Lorenzen from Criminal Investigation.’ Johann looked out of the window again and asked, ‘Did we speak on the phone?’

  The police officer shook his hand. ‘Sergeant Walter Reimers. I’m in charge of the Amrum police station. I suggest we sit down together and discuss our line of approach. Follow me. It’s only a short distance to Nebel.’

  Johann turned to Lena. She gave a small nod. ‘OK,’ he replied.

  Reimers seemed satisfied. He climbed into his car and pulled out without indicating. Johann didn’t dare speak until they were on the open road leading to Nebel. ‘We can’t entirely avoid working with our local colleagues.’

  ‘It wasn’t about that,’ Lena said. ‘I want to be prepared, and to be fully prepared I need to know everything. And now this sergeant wants to stick his oar in.’

  ‘But we’re only going to have a chat about things.’

  ‘Wait and see,’ Lena said, following the police car off the main road. A short while later, they pulled up in a courtyard encircled by trees. Lena was familiar with the inconspicuous brick building that housed the police station.

  ‘Did you know that – technically speaking – the Amrum police station was dissolved two years ago and is now merely a branch of the Föhr police, DI Lorenzen?’ asked Johann.

  Lena rolled her eyes and shook her head. ‘Don’t you worry, my dear colleague, I have done some homework. And we need to work on that first-name basis, OK?’

  Reimers was waiting at the door. ‘Welcome to our hovel, such as it is,’ he said, a strained smile on his face. ‘Come on in!’ He led them through to his office and asked Lena and Johann to take a seat, gesturing towards the two chairs in front of his desk.

  ‘One of my men is on patrol and the other’s knocked off for the day. Our core team consists of two constables and my humble self, along with an extra two constables from the mainland in peak season. Can I get you something to drink? Coffee, tea, water?’

  ‘Thanks, but that won’t be necessary,’ Lena said.

  ‘All right. I heard you’ve found decent accommodation in Norddorf. Don’t hesitate to ask if you need anything.’ He grinned. ‘Your friendly local police – always ready to help and support.’