The Body on the Beach Read online

  They embraced for a long moment. Beke gave her niece a kiss on the cheek and waved a teary-eyed farewell. Lena sighed as she steered the Passat back on to the main road. She would have liked to spend the evening with Beke. She decided to stay at her aunt’s for a day or two, once the case was solved or scrapped.

  Pulling up outside the beach house, she took out her phone and called Superintendent Warnke. He picked up on the second ring. Lena brought him up to speed in as few words as possible.

  ‘Any news from Hamburg?’ she asked.

  ‘You’d be the first to know.’

  ‘I urgently need the list of phones connected to the network that night between nine p.m. and midnight. I also need Bohlen’s phone records from his last two days – or better yet, the whole week.’

  ‘I’d expected you to ask for the former, and it’s already set up. You should get the data tomorrow. Bohlen’s phone records shouldn’t take much longer.’

  ‘Great. What about a search warrant for the home and his flat?’

  ‘On what grounds? We have nothing solid, you know that. But I’ll try – I can’t promise anything, though.’

  ‘Any chance of getting a look at Walter Reimers’ personnel file?’

  DSU Warnke groaned. ‘I’ll try. But don’t get carried away again.’

  ‘I won’t,’ Lena replied firmly, choosing not to comment on the ‘again’. ‘I need a court order for the tax office. We need access to the documents relating to the purchase of the property.’

  ‘That should be doable. I’ll email you in the morning.’

  ‘Thanks. I’ll call again tomorrow night.’

  Her next phone call was to her retired friend and father figure, Enno Eilts, DSU Warnke’s predecessor.

  ‘I don’t have much for you,’ he said after their warm greeting. ‘How are you getting on?’ Lena told him briefly what they’d uncovered so far. ‘Walter Reimers. The name sounds familiar.’

  ‘He’s been stationed on the island for eight years. That’s all I know.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s never worked in Kiel – Schleswig, perhaps. I’ll call someone there and get back to you if I find anything. But as to my not having much for you, I did some asking around. Not that easy when you’ve been out of the game for a while. I feel like I spent hours talking with my old colleagues about my retirement and how I’m coping with it. I could hardly get straight to the point. No one’s become particularly chummy with Warnke. “Overambitious” was about the nicest description. No one seemed to know much about your case, which I couldn’t mention explicitly, of course, only that he’s been keeping out of all current investigations almost entirely. In other words, he’s busy with something else. If I’m not mistaken, things suddenly got very quiet around Warnke following the death of the director of this children’s home.’

  ‘Strange. Sounds as though whatever’s going on is taking up all his attention.’

  ‘Or he’s got the wind up because he’s involved somehow. I wouldn’t put it past him.’

  ‘Then why would he kick up such a fuss? I can’t really believe the Flensburg office would have begged him for help.’

  Enno Eilts sighed. ‘I agree. Something’s up, and it seems to me like you’re an important pawn in this game. Please look after yourself. I have a bad feeling about all this.’

  ‘I know. I’ll be careful.’

  They said their goodbyes and Lena next called Ben, her colleague from Flensburg.

  ‘Moin, Lena. I’ve been expecting you to call.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ben. I’ve been flat out.’

  ‘How are you getting on with our boy?’

  ‘All good so far. Positively surprised, even.’

  ‘He’s nobody’s fool,’ Ben Baier said. ‘But watch out – he’s apparently on very good terms with the boss.’

  ‘Will do. Thanks. Have you heard anything else?’

  ‘Not really. No one else was asked if they’d like to take on the case. The boss decided on his own. And you know he’s constantly in touch with your Warnke. That’s all I’ve heard.’

  ‘That information alone speaks volumes.’

  ‘Are you making any progress?’

  ‘I think so. But you can imagine what it’s like when you don’t start investigating until two weeks after the fact.’

  ‘Absolutely. But I know you – you’ll give it your all and solve the case sooner or later. When can I see you again?’

  Ben’s question had come out of nowhere. Lena swallowed and took a deep breath. ‘I don’t think your wife would be too impressed, would she?’

  There was a silence before he replied. ‘That didn’t stop you two years ago.’

  ‘Ben, we both needed someone that night. I thought we agreed—’

  ‘It’s all right, Lena,’ Ben said. ‘I know. Pity, though.’ There was another pause, then he added, ‘I just can’t forget that night.’

  ‘You must. For your own sake as well as for your family,’ said Lena, quickly adding, ‘and for mine too.’

  After their one-night stand she’d been on the point of calling Ben or driving over to Flensburg many times, but on each occasion had been stopped by the thought of his wife and two young children. Eventually, she’d sought refuge in her relationship with Joe and tried to forget Ben.

  ‘You’re right, of course,’ he said quietly. After another pause he added, ‘I’ll be in touch. Look after yourself – and our young man.’

  ‘Thanks for your support, Ben.’

  ‘No trouble at all. I honestly don’t mind.’

  ‘I know. Thank you anyway.’

  ‘Will you call me?’

  ‘Bye, Ben.’

  Lena waited until he hung up. Ben’s words still rang in her ears. He’d sounded honest, wistful. Lena tried to swallow the lump in her throat. She’d asked Ben for help on the spur of the moment, but had known it was a mistake the moment she’d called him. Lena stared at her phone. Deep in thought, she next called Leon.

  ‘Yeah?’ he said, as always, answering the phone without giving his name.

  ‘Got anything for me?’

  ‘That’s for you to judge.’

  ‘Spill!’

  ‘His regular email account is boring as hell. Just the usual. I’ll send you a link with his emails from the last twelve months.’

  ‘OK. What else?’

  ‘The home network was extremely well secured. Too well, I’d say.’

  ‘Strange.’

  ‘I agree. The guy had another email account, with Gmail. He must have had it a while because it still has the old-style ending.’

  ‘Anything of interest?’

  ‘Completely empty. He must have deleted all his emails. I couldn’t find a thing.’

  ‘So why would he do that? If he didn’t use the account, he could have just closed it.’

  ‘He did use it, though, but I only found the faintest traces on his hard drive. I tried, honestly, but there was no way to recover those emails. I assume he always deleted them immediately from his inbox as well as his sent items folder.’

  ‘That’s odd,’ Lena said. ‘Could he have saved anything to the cloud?’

  ‘I found only a very few, very well-covered tracks on his PC. I’d say he was extremely careful – either he knew what he was doing or he was very lucky. I’m guessing the former. But I’ll have another look tomorrow. I hate not being able to find anything. Everyone’s got a skeleton in the closet – even you.’

  ‘Call me if you find anything. I may need some records from the tax office.’

  Leon groaned. ‘You’re not asking for much, are you?’

  ‘I may need them, I said. I’ll be in touch.’

  Lena hung up and climbed out of the Passat. In the house, Johann was sitting at the kitchen table with his laptop. She fetched a bottle of water and a glass and joined him.

  ‘Any luck?’ she asked.

  ‘Everyone had already finished up for the day at the tax office in Leck.’

  ‘OK, well, we’ll hav
e the court order in the morning. We may need you then to travel to the mainland, unless we ask the local police to help out. Maybe even a phone call will do the trick. Let’s wait and see.’

  ‘Next we have the three ladies. First up, Sabine Bohlen, née Lauer. She came to the island six years ago and married Hein Bohlen three years later. She studied in Münster. She’s turning forty-two this year, no children. Born and raised in the Cloppenburg district of Bösel. Catholic. Both parents still alive, no siblings. Before moving to Amrum, she worked in several different places across northern Germany: Münster, Oldenburg, Bremen, Norderstedt. No criminal record.’

  ‘Is she still a member of the Church?’

  ‘According to the records, yes. Unless she left a few days ago.’

  ‘Nothing else?’

  ‘I’m not sure if it’s important, but she was off work for a whole year. I’m guessing she was on sick leave. She wasn’t receiving any benefits.’

  ‘For a whole year? Let’s pay her another visit today. I’ve got a few more questions for her of my own. I don’t believe in this happy marriage she was trying to sell us. OK, what about Isabel Müller?’

  ‘She’s twenty-five years old. Both parents died in a car crash when she was twelve. She spent the following years in homes across northern Germany.’

  ‘Both parents?’ asked Lena, shocked, thinking of her own mother. ‘Both at the same time?’

  ‘Yes, or she wouldn’t have ended up in a home. She had a brother, three years younger. They were put in the same home at first and then separated later.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Can’t find anything in the records, but the way she was shifted from home to home, I’m guessing she was trouble. She was finally placed with a foster family at fourteen and stayed there until she was eighteen. After graduating from high school, she studied in Hamburg. Completed her probationary year at a youth centre in Rostock then returned to Hamburg as a fieldworker for children’s social services.’

  ‘What about her brother?’

  ‘He passed away a year and a half ago.’

  ‘Another accident?’

  ‘I couldn’t find anything on it. Would you like me to . . . ?’

  ‘Yes please, if you could.’

  Johann checked his files. ‘Oldenburg in Niedersachsen. That’s where he was last. I know someone at the station there. I’ll give him a call in the morning.’

  ‘Anything else about Isabel Müller?’

  ‘She’s been working at the home for a little over six months, like she told us. Unmarried; no children.’

  ‘Can you please email me the list of homes she was placed in?’

  ‘I’m on to it. I’ll send it through together with today’s report.’

  ‘Great. What about her predecessor, Anna . . . ?’

  ‘Bauer. Anna Bauer. I found her entry in the register of residents on Amrum. She de-registered when she moved away and her new address is on Mallorca. How would you like me to proceed?’

  ‘Try the Spanish consulate in Hamburg tomorrow. I’d really like to speak to her.’

  ‘Do you think she’s a suspect?’

  ‘Call it a gut feeling. She works at the home for five years and then suddenly quits without giving any notice. And Sabine Bohlen hasn’t the faintest idea why – even though they worked side by side on a daily basis.’

  ‘OK, I’ll try the consulate tomorrow. Anna Bauer is thirty-five, originally from Bavaria . . .’ He checked his notes. ‘Regensburg. That’s also where she studied before moving first to North Rhine-Westphalia for work, and then to Amrum. Also unmarried and no children.’

  ‘From Amrum to Mallorca. I doubt she’s working in a home over there.’

  ‘Maybe she’s an entertainer at one of the resorts. I’ve heard they like teachers for the job. Or she’s just taking some time out?’

  ‘Pure speculation. We need her phone number and then we’ll soon find out.’ Lena checked the time. ‘Almost eight. OK, I think that’s enough for today.’

  ‘What’s the plan for tomorrow?’ asked Johann.

  ‘Talk to the cook and the rest of the staff. A few more questions for Sabine Bohlen. The tax office in Leck. And then we have the list of Hein Bohlen’s friends and associates.’

  ‘OK. We don’t have anything so far. Not surprising, considering we don’t even know whether Hein Bohlen’s death was murder. Not to mention how he was murdered.’

  ‘I don’t reckon things are that bad. Tomorrow is another day.’

  Lena’s phone buzzed. She checked the display. A text from Erck.

  10

  ‘Do you still drink Martini on ice?’

  Lena had walked into the Norddorf Strandhalle a few minutes ago and found Erck waiting for her at a table by the window.

  He’d handed her the Martini as soon as she sat down.

  ‘Every now and then,’ she said.

  He raised his glass. ‘This time it’s official: welcome to Amrum!’ She sipped at her drink. ‘How long has it been?’ asked Erck.

  ‘Fourteen years,’ Lena replied.

  Erck sighed. ‘That’s quite a while.’

  ‘How did you get hold of my number?’

  ‘Beke. It took a bit of doing, but she succumbed to my charms in the end. Don’t be angry with her – she likes me. And what else was I supposed to do? You know I’m bad at waiting.’

  ‘What are you up to these days?’ Lena asked, to change the subject.

  ‘I manage holiday-home rentals, and it’s going pretty well. Many of the local homeowners have given up living on Amrum or become too old to look after guests. These days the season runs from before Easter until mid- to late October.’

  ‘What else?’

  He raised both hands and twisted them back and forth. ‘No ring. I couldn’t convince any woman to take me. And you? Ringlessly happy too?’

  Lena rolled her eyes. ‘Stop it, Erck. Beke would have told you long ago if I’d done anything like that. No, I’m not married and nor am I planning to be any time soon.’

  ‘Does that mean I’m still in with a chance?’

  Lena had to smile in spite of herself. Erck hadn’t changed at all. ‘Long-distance relationships aren’t really my thing.’

  He sighed theatrically. ‘Unless the crime rate here suddenly went through the roof and Schleswig-Holstein’s only competent detective was permanently required.’

  Lena drained her Martini. ‘I can’t stay long. I still have work to do.’

  She could tell by Erck’s eyes that he was disappointed. ‘What a shame,’ he said. ‘Just a few more minutes for an old friend? One more Martini?’

  Lena shrugged. ‘But only one more.’

  Erck signalled the waitress to bring two more drinks. When he turned back to Lena, their eyes met. ‘Dammit,’ he said quietly. ‘I’ve missed you.’

  Lena swallowed. ‘That was another life. One that’s long over.’ Her voice was almost a whisper.

  ‘You could have called.’

  ‘And then what?’ asked Lena. ‘Would it have made it any easier for you?’

  ‘Anything would have been better than your silence.’

  Lena closed her eyes for a moment. She didn’t want to tell Erck how many times she’d picked up the phone and how close she’d come to ringing him but had always decided against it at the very last moment.

  ‘I couldn’t call you, Erck, let alone visit you here.’

  ‘As you said, it’s long over.’

  Their Martinis arrived. Lena raised the glass this time. ‘I’m sorry, Erck. I didn’t want to hurt you, but I know I did.’

  He tried to smile. Then he got up and moved his chair right alongside hers. ‘Do you remember how we never wanted to sit opposite each other? People used to look sideways at us when we sat next to each other like this.’ He raised his glass and chinked it against hers. ‘To us!’

  ‘To us,’ Lena repeated.

  Lena got back to the house around ten. After the third Martini, Erck had told her some more a
bout the last few years on Amrum. Aside from the holiday rentals, he also gave surfing lessons. Two years ago he’d bought an old house in Norddorf and renovated it from the ground up. He’d done most of the work himself over the winter months, and now, finally, he said, his house was no longer a building site. Erck’s goodnight hug had left her breathless for a moment. Neither of them had let go for what felt like an eternity.

  Lena opened up her laptop to check her emails. Johann had sent his report through and there was an email from Superintendent Warnke. She opened it and was amazed to find not only the court order for the tax office attached, but also a copy of Reimers’ personnel file.

  ‘That was quick,’ Lena murmured.

  Warnke must have found a judge willing to issue the order that evening. Lena was astonished that he’d gained access to the personnel file this fast.

  She opened the file and scanned through Reimers’ history. Enno Eilts had guessed right. Reimers had been stationed in Schleswig for eleven years before applying for the position on Amrum. Previous to Schleswig, he’d worked in Hamburg, where he’d been demoted by one rank. From the vaguely worded summary, Lena assumed that he’d cultivated close contacts with the criminal milieu and passed on classified information. The internal investigation had concluded with the decision to demote Reimers. Lena guessed that he’d been shielded from worse by his superior officer. She noted down the name of the station. If she made an official inquiry, she wouldn’t get a reply for weeks, if at all. She reached for her phone and called Leon.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Hi, Leon. I need a report from the department of internal investigations.’

  Leon laughed drily. ‘You want me to hack your own guys? Funny!’

  ‘Hamburg police. It’ll be years before they give me anything.’

  She gave him Reimers’ details and explained the situation briefly.

  ‘That’ll take hours. And what if they haven’t even digitised the bloody report?’

  ‘You can’t get in?’

  ‘Getting in isn’t the problem. Not getting seen is.’

  ‘So?’

  ‘Dammit, Lena, I think we’re just about even again. Just because you did me a favour that one time—’