Whodunit detective novel

Whodunit project

Comenius 2008 – 2010 This project has been funded with support from the European Commission.

This publication [communication] reflects the views only of the author, and the Commission cannot be held responsible for any use which

may be made of the information contained therein.

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Whodunit

introduction

This detective book is a great work of students from five schools in Europe. It is a

result of their common European project. Their work lasted for two years.

Each country wrote one chapter and a final chapter. The best final chapter was

chosen during our meeting in the Netherlands in June 2010. Students voted the

German chapter the best. You can also find the other final chapters in this book.

Many thanks to all the people who took part in the project work and contributed to its

successful running.

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Whodunit

partner schools

Ferryhill Business and Enterprise College

Ferryhill, United Kingdom

web – www.fbec.co.uk

coordinator – Clare Johnson

IES Pinar de la Rubia

Valladolid, Spain

web – iespinardelarubia.centros.educa.jcyl.es

coordinator – Lourdes Calleja

Dietrich-Bonhoeffer-Schule

Weinheim, Germany

web – www.dbs-weinheim.de

coordinator – Gunilla Kercher

Základní škola Brno, Hroznová 1

Brno, Czech Republic

web – www.zshroznova.cz

coordinator – Luděk Balcařík

Christelijke Scholengemeenschap Comenius College

Capelle aan den Ijssel, Netherlands

web – www.comenius.nl

coordinator – Niek Bogaard

project web - sites.google.com/site/whodunnitproject/

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Whodunit

contents

chapter 1........................................................................7

chapter 2......................................................................23

chapter 3......................................................................45

chapter 4......................................................................65

chapter 5......................................................................85

chapter 6....................................................................101

chapter 6....................................................................111

chapter 6....................................................................117

chapter 6....................................................................121

chapter 6....................................................................125

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united kingdom

Chapter 1

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9

Birds eye view of Durham

Cathedral

Durham Cathedral 20 years ago

Durham Cathedral by the river

The famous sanctuary knocker

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10th December 1988

“Her eyes were distilled. The flesh had maggots and beetles breaking through the

cold, rotten, blue skin. The stench itself was enough to make you gag even before

you brought your eyes upon the disturbing image of the corpse. She was hanging

from the rafters. A rope hung down attached to a large crucifix to which she was

mounted. Barbed wire enclosed and entangled her carcass. Her blood was still

dripping to the floor from her forehead from where the barbed wire crown has entered

her skull. On her chest hidden behind some of the wire there seemed to be a marking

but it was too difficult to make out while she was still suspended in this state of

torture. As I continued to gaze up at the horrific scene the rope began to wear down.

It started to wither until breaking point. The crucifix along with the body came

crashing to the cold hard blood-ridden floor below. Upon further examination of the

now fallen body it was quite clear that the fall had forced the head of the victim and

neck back into the chest.

Even as a hardened detective, after the many murder cases I have overseen, no

other could compare to the sheer brutality this poor, unfortunate soul had endured. I

couldn‟t comprehend how someone could bring themselves to commit such horrific

acts upon a fellow human. But I still felt I had to examine what the marking was. I

took my wire cutters out of my forensic kit, carefully cutting free the unfortunate

victim. I cut each and every piece of wire I could get to. The specialists arrived with a

body-bag. I pointed them in the direction of the quire, remembering to inform them of

where I first saw her, and then went home to study my notes.

- Detective Alistair Roberts

“17th December 1988

Still no leads, the horrific images have still not left my mind even after a week since I

last saw the scene. My biggest fear is that this poor woman shall never gain justice

for her barbaric murder. The page the bible, found near her body, was opened upon

still haunts my dreams. God giveth Life, God taketh it away. What did the killer the

mean by this? Was he taunting us, was he acting in the name of God expecting us to

believe that this is what the father wanted? Or was this just another religious psycho

obsessed with smiting sinners in the name of God? In any case this was a murder,

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and what ever the motive the killer would never escape the long arm of the law, by

God they won‟t.

- Detective Alistair Roberts“

“10th January 1989

This is becoming hopeless. It‟s been a month since the discovery of the body and we

still haven‟t identified her! But I still won‟t give up on this, this woman deserves justice

and I will make sure she gets it. I swear she will, and this killer will rot in a prison

cell!!!

- Detective Alistair Roberts”

“16th January 1989

Finally some good news!!! We‟ve identified the woman as Maria Chambers.

Interesting background this one. She was made an orphan when she was 7 years old

thanks to an unfortunate car crash. Maria lived on the streets of Durham until she

was 10 when two Nuns took her in as if she was their own. In the Cathedral she

excelled at her art and English literature. She was easily the best artist the nunnery

had seen. When she was 18 the nuns managed to scrape enough money to send her

to an art college so she may become the DaVinci of her time. Maria graduated with a

degree, she was one of the greatest artists to graduate from the college. After she

graduated she came back to Durham city. She has three religious paintings in the

Cathedral already, and is thought to of painted many more in her brief career.

Perhaps these paintings could link into her murder? These paintings might have

offended the murderer in some way or even, perhaps, the murder could have felt that

she stole the paintings off of her. Either way I‟m sure these paintings have something

to do with the death of Maria Chambers I am sure of it.

- Detective Alistair Roberts”

“21st January 1989

This is looking bleak again. I cannot describe it but I‟m sure that the paintings mean

something. This would drive me insane but, alas I make my retirement tomorrow. But

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I have faith in my son, he wishes to be a detective like his father and I‟m sure he‟ll be

able to give Maria Chambers the justice she so desperately deserves. I just hope

these haven‟t been pointless acts for a hopeless cause.

- Detective Alistair Roberts”

Setting down the journal with a sigh, Christopher Roberts felt tired. After five years

since his father passed on, no further progress had been made; his father would be

disappointed. Though, unlike five years ago his father could not voice his concerns

for his „inadequate son‟. Now sitting at his desk in a run down one bedroom

apartment he couldn‟t help but feel that perhaps his father was right after all. Still, he

refused to believe that this was all he would ever make of himself, still holding onto

the hope that one day he could fulfil the high standards that had been set for him.

Yet, standing, idly wondering what „dear father‟ would make of him now.

Making yet another hopeless attempt to straighten out the crooked, square framed

glasses on his nose, Christopher made his way into the grimy bathroom to stare at

the stranger in the mirror. He hardly recognised himself anymore. Where his

chocolate brown eyes were once alive with determination, they were now lifeless and

clouded with defeat. Once where his strong jaw line could be seen, it was now

masked with rough stubble.

Sighing, he patted out the creases of his light brown tweed jacket and walked

towards the tall white door that led him back into his bedroom. In deep thought about

what to do next, Christopher set back into his old tattered couch. Looking around the

room, he came across a small, yet distinct photo of himself and his father. Getting up

to take a closer look he noticed a colourful, but very attractive painting in the

background. It seemed to show a young woman standing in a grand hall with

instruments of torture scattered around her. This wasn‟t normal; they must have been

put there, but why? Something about the picture was familiar to Christopher, but he

couldn‟t quite figure out what it was. Did he recognise the woman? There was

something about it but he just couldn‟t think what.

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By this time it was getting late so Christopher decided it was time to get sleep, but he

couldn‟t help but think about it. It was early morning when detective Roberts woke.

As he was thinking more about the painting, it struck him why it had been so familiar.

When he was a child his father took an interest in the art of different countries. One

of his favourite historic landmarks to study was Durham Cathedral. As well as being a

beautiful site, it held lots of local treasures. With this thought running through his

head, he bolted down the stairs and out of his apartment block, heading towards the

car park.

Searching his pockets, he realized he had forgotten his keys and the journal, so he

ran back to retrieve them. Once inside he grabbed them, however a small, folded

piece of paper fell out of the journal, dropping to the floor. Bending down to pick it up,

he unfolded the paper which revealed yet another photo. This photo showed a young

woman drenched in blood. What does this mean? He thought to himself. Is it a clue

my father left for me? Placing the photo back into the journal carefully trying not to rip

anything. Heading for the door all that was on his mind was, this is my chance, to

give my father something to be proud of.

Whilst walking back to his car, he noticed a man lurking in the bushes. Pretending he

didn‟t see the man, Detective Roberts got into his car and slyly got his notebook and

started writing a description of what he looked like.

„Short, blonde, slicked back hair‟

„Black trench coat‟

„Leather-look trousers‟

„Jet black biker boots‟

Fumbling around in his pocket for his keys, he took another look at where the man

had been standing. No sign of him. Christopher started his now very outdated car

and headed towards the motorway, unaware of a dangerous twist of fate beckoning

ever closer.

Walking from his car along the heavily cobbled streets, disturbing images flashed into

his head of: death, despair and darkness. He slowed down as he neared the

cathedral wondering what it would be like (as it was his first time). He turned the last

corner and was overwhelmed by the sheer size of the cathedral. Walking up to the

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main door it was amazing how the knocker that he had heard so much about was

somehow larger and seemed more distinguished in real life compared to the photos

he had seen of it. He walked into the main hall of the cathedral and was overawed

with the serenity of the scene. The peacefulness of this inspiring place of history was

hypnotizing. So many memories, happy and sad, good and bad, the generations of

pilgrims, famous and infamous people seemed to whisper thoughts of hope but also

their emotions from the time when they were alive.

Strolling through the silent hall he thought of the murder and of how anyone could

have destroyed this place of worship, this monument of architecture and this place of

safety for the hunted. Slowly walking through the courtyard, he happily listened to the

sound of the birds chirping away in their garden of sanctuary. Witnessing the green

plants and coloured flowers dancing away in the cool north westerly breeze, he grew

more and more upset with this diabolical murderer, who threatened this beautiful

place with their evil ways. Leisurely walking outside made me wonder further how

such an evil act had been committed in such a peaceful and caring environment. He

suddenly noticed how thirsty he had become and decided to walk to the local

newsagents for a drink. He knew it was only around the corner as he had passed it

on the way to the cathedral.

He scanned the many faces wandering around the old streets and wondered if any of

them could be the murderer. As he neared the newsagents named “Camerons” he

noticed the local paper advertising the anniversary of the new paintings coming to the

cathedral from a major art gallery in Holland. He suddenly thought of his Dad and

how much he would enjoy going to the gallery. Going for a closer look he suddenly

realized that the paintings had been to Durham before.

20 years ago his dad had taken him to see a brand new painting that had just been

released, by an artist who had promised more paintings of the same style. The

painting in question was a dead body with blood splattered on her arm and a holy

bible left open next to her. Detective Roberts was a big fan of these types of

paintings and so was his Dad. However these pictures always had a darker side and

as he had grown older he had started to realize this more. He started to wonder if

any of these paintings could have anything to do with the murder. He decided to go

to the gallery to see if his hunch was correct. Arriving at his run down flat he decided

to do some research on the gallery and the paintings. It didn‟t take long for him to find

some info on the history of the gallery and the paintings. Supposedly the paintings

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were recent and had been painted in various countries around Europe including

Holland, Spain, Czech Republic and Germany. The first picture was made in England

20 years ago. All of this seemed very suspicious to him and what confirmed

suspicions was that nowhere on the internet was a mention of the artists‟ name. He

decided to travel to the gallery to have a closer look at the paintings.

Arriving at the gallery he wondered if he was nearing an important discovery in

murderer catching history.

Nearing the huge blue door he took a deep breath and walked along the last of the

path, through the gate and just outside the door.

Though determined, he couldn‟t help but feel sceptical as he stepped into the art

gallery. Although he knew this was his only lead, he couldn‟t quite bring himself to

believe that he would find the key to solving the case here. After all, it was only an

idle guess that had brought him here. And even if he was right, it would be very hard

work.

Walking slowly through the gallery doors, he shook his doubtful thoughts to the back

of his mind and began to take note of his surroundings. He was surrounded by a

collage of colours and shapes. He couldn‟t help but admire the artwork of such young

talent that engulfed him in its wonder. Christopher had always been a fan of art, his

interest stemming from being brought to galleries across the world by his father. A

flame of excitement alighted within him, a slight shimmer of being a child again was

visible in his mindset as he began to wander deeper through the maze of walls,

staring at every frame and the magnificence that they held.

For the first time in what seemed like forever, he felt a passion about something

return. However, his euphoric moment of memories was interrupted by less than

pleasant thoughts. His mind began to drift back onto the case, wondering about

Maria Chambers, and how her love for art may have cost her her life. This thought

brought him back to reality, reminding him to stay focused on the case at hand,

rather than gazing round in awe.

Continuing to wander deeper into the gallery, he reached a quieter area, where

curious eyes were no longer upon him. He had to hold back the relieved sigh he

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wanted to let out, as he knew that this was no time to relax. This was a time for work,

though as he had passed the many different items on show, he had yet to see a

connection with the murder.

Perhaps his hunch had been wrong after all. Perhaps this was nothing more than

wishful thinking, due to paying more attention to this case now than he had in the last

five years. It was stupid of him to think that after a day of paying his full attention to it,

he had suddenly stumbled upon the answers he was now so desperate to find.

Stupid - and naive. However, through all of this, he refused to give up. And that extra

second proved most valuable.

He wasn‟t sure what it was exactly that had caught his eye. Perhaps it was the

familiar blank over the woman‟s face; or maybe the crimson of the blood spread

across her arms. Either way, he had finally found what he had been looking for.

Briskly, he walked over to the wall that displayed the painting from the cathedral. A

sense of pride immediately washed over him as his mind was a haze of excitement at

the progress he had made. Though he had to contain himself, still knowing that this

could all result in nothing and his hopes could die away in a flash.

Overall he was undisturbed, as he observed the now familiar artwork in front of him.

With every second, he was becoming more sure of his presumption. This had to be

the woman that was murdered all those years ago - surely. It was all far too familiar

to be a simple coincidence – right?

“They‟re brilliant aren‟t they?” Christopher turned at the sound of a voice, coming

face to face with a large, stocky man, who seemed to have an intimidating aura about

him. He seemed much older than Christopher, his eyes giving his age away in his

seemingly young face.

“Oh… yes, quite.” At seeing the question in Christopher‟s gaze, the stranger held out

his hand to the younger man, smiling warmly.

“Bruce Taylor.”

“Christopher Roberts.” Christopher took the hand that was offered, shaking it briefly

and professionally before turning back to the wall. Now was not the time for small talk

or idle chat.

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“Ah, Detective Roberts. Just like your father.” At the mention of his father, he spun

around to face him once again, curiosity burning in his mysterious brown eyes.

“You knew my father?”

To his surprise, he was met with nothing but the quiet buzz from the many people

filling up the room; the man was gone.

After a few moments of looking around in confusion, Christopher turned back to the

wall, looking at the name below it. „Unknown‟. Checking the next painting along, he

was greeted with the same response. „Unknown.‟ Every painting along the wall

seemed to be the same, perhaps all by the same person. This next painting was

interesting also, another murder scene. It appeared that this artist had a fascination

with corpses.

Looking properly, he could make out the shape of a young woman, wings tied to her

shoulders and snakes at her feet. It was strange – to see a body strung up in such a

way, one elbow pointing to the sky with terror written across her features.

For some reason, it looked familiar. Just like the first painting had the moment he

looked at it days before.

Although still unsure, a thought had struck him. Detective Roberts moved hastily

towards the car park, a troubled expression clouding his features.

Once in his car, he moved as quickly as the law would allow, he raced back towards

his now familiar run-down apartment, hoping to finally uncover the first clue on this

case for many years.

However after bursting through his front door he was faced with an unexpected

scene. In front of him were two now familiar yet unknown faces looking back at him in

shock. The stocky built man recognised from the art gallery gripped the gun tightly in

his grasp, the barrel aimed towards the suspicious blonde – who was now pushing

past Christopher and out of the door.

“What‟s going on?!” Detective Roberts attempted to remain calm, however the

obvious anger in his voice gave him away. The stocky built man looked upon him in

indecision. Perhaps now was the time.

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Making up his mind he sat Christopher down telling him everything of his past. Of

course this included the many years spent as the partner and good friend of the

young detective‟s father.

“So who was that?” Christopher finally spoke, his voice shaking from the overload of

information that had just been shared.

“I‟m not sure, I found him in here trying to look through the case file.”

“Think that could have been our guy?”

“Nah, the killers to smart for that.” He replied in defeat.

Silence swept across the room for a few moments; until Christopher remembered the

reason he was there. Instantly, he stood, rushing over to his paper ridden desk.

Filtering forcefully through every page in a hurry, he finally found what he was looking

for. Picking the scabby blue art file up, he blew the dust that seemed to be coating its

existence.

“Peter, take a look at this.” The stocky man peered over Detective Roberts shoulder

at hearing his name being called, a curious expression on his face.

Opening the file he pulled out various pictures and texts from his days as a avid art

fanatic.

“Here.” He handed the man (who had now revealed himself to be Detective Franks)

the page, now worn with time.

It revealed an old photograph showing a famous statue in Retiro Park, Madrid.

“El Angel Caido.” Christopher looked at it in awe, proud to see the same expression

lighting Peter‟s face.

“The painting from the gallery, the one of the body - It was positioned just like this.

Her body‟s facing the opposite way, but the wings are strapped on, and her arm is

hanging towards the sky like in the photo.” Detective Franks nodded in admiration of

Christopher‟s discovery. It really did look like this could be the next missing link in the

chain.

“Lad, looks like were heading to Spain.”

* * *

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Arriving at the airport, Christopher was overcome with emotion. This clue was

something he had been searching for since his father‟s death. Now, although excited

he couldn‟t help but doubt himself after so long being told that he would never live up

to his father‟s expectations of him. Feeling like now was his last and only chance to

prove himself; he also knew that he could not fail.

Both detectives boarded the plane, knowing that this clue was all they had. Though

both were sure that this would bring them closer to their goal; finally solving the case

that the man who had played a large part in both of their lives, had never been able

to complete.

For Christopher this was mostly, if not all long awaited proof that he was good

enough to follow in his father‟s footsteps. Although a small part of him knew that he

still just wanted his father‟s approval. For Detective Franks however this was all to

repay the debt he felt that he owed to his long since dead partner. He knew that not

only did his old colleague deserve this from him, but as his friend also.

With the plane nearing takeoff, both sat silently lost in their own thoughts and

memories. Processing the uncertainty that lay ahead, Detective Roberts knew only

one thing… The paintings were the only witness.

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spain

Chapter 2

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«… his Pride

had cast him out from Heav'n, with all his Host

Of Rebel Angels, by whose aid aspiring

To set himself in Glory above his Peers

[…] … round he throws his baleful eyes

That witness'd huge affliction and dismay

Mixt with obdurate pride and stedfast hate».

And a silence came down on them. The guide had made them totally captivated.

Milton‟s verses, which were inspired by the statue, were truly powerful.

─Paradise Lost, Book One. Wow, Ms. Darrell was so enthusiastic about Milton‟s

verses; only thanks to her they still echo in my memory ─added Christopher without

wiping the mocking smile off his face, at the same time supporting his glasses with

his index finger as they were threatening to fall off his nose.

After landing in Madrid, where they had been greeted by the beautiful April sunshine,

the first thing they had done was direct themselves without delay to the Parque del

Retiro where the guide they had booked was waiting for them.

So now Christopher and Detective Franks were gazing at the famous and impressive

statue of the Fallen Angel.

„It is a kind of tribute to Lucifer -thought Christopher-, how strange that the statue is

666 metres above sea level - nature could not repeat the number of the devil more

often!‟.

They also learned that -according to the legend- the most majestic angel never

dreamed that he would be expelled from Heaven for his incomparable arrogance.

Suddenly, Christopher noticed a small symbol on the back of the statue- an image

that he had seen before. It was the same mark as found on Maria Chambers‟ body.

This could be a hint to help in their investigation; however, despite the coincidence,

and although they tried to link the symbol to the innumerable stories about the statue

of the devil, they did not reach any conclusion that made any sense. For the moment,

this clue did not lead them anywhere.

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They had come here to Spain hoping to solve the case after it had been abandoned

for so many years. They were a little down and, why not say so, frustrated. So they

left the park and went to a close-by café.

─And what the hell are we going to do now? ─asked Detective Franks a little irritated.

The waitress approached: ─What would you like?

Christopher did not have a clue about how to speak Spanish, but Detective Franks

jumped in quickly and said:

─A strong coffee for both of us, please.

The waitress nodded and disappeared amongst the many seats of the nice café. It

was three o‟clock pm, mild and sunny, and above their heads the Telediario, a

Spanish news program, was on TV.

─Well ─said Christopher, ─are we looking for a hotel where we can spend the…?

─Shhhh, listen! ─his colleague Detective Franks interrupted him. Soon Christopher

understood why:

“…a murder that happened last night in the province capital of Valladolid. This

morning a dead body has been found in Valladolid‟s very well-known church of La

Antigua. The members of its brotherhood stumbled upon a lifeless body hanging from

the valuable statue of the Crucified Christ. They noticed the cadaver in the Gothic

church when they went to pick up a famous statue for their annual Holy Week

procession through town. The unlucky victim has been recognized as Hans

Kappelhoff, a 63-year-old German, who was working in Valladolid as a restorer for

the National Museum of Sculpture. The terrifying aspects of this case are the strange

posture in which the body was found hanging on the figure of Christ, the many

wounds and lastly the crown of thorns on his forehead. The CID is investigating this

macabre and very disturbing case. The security staff has cordoned off the area and

the brotherhoods have cancelled tomorrow‟s Good Friday‟s processions. However,

today‟s processions are taking place.”

─This is our clue, Franks! We have to go to Valladolid immediately ─claimed

Christopher excited.

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Franks nodded. ─There‟s no time to lose -he agreed-, If the body presents similarities

with that of Maria Chambers, there has to be a connection between both murders.

This cannot be an accident. Let‟s take the underground to the Station of Chamartín,

and from there we can take one of these high-speed trains that head off to Valladolid.

Christopher was suddenly wondering how the detective could possibly know so much

about Spain, including the language. He held himself back from asking, though: he

did not feel comfortable enough with the detective yet, as their relationship was

basically a working one. What he knew for sure was that Franks‟ knowledge made

him curious and even have a funny feeling about him.

They arrived at the station as soon as they could and ordered their tickets. They were

pretty lucky; within fifteen minutes the next train would head off towards the city on

the river Pisuerga. So they spent this quarter of an hour sitting in the waiting room;

sitting and waiting there in a peaceful silence that allowed each of them to follow their

own thoughts.

Ten minutes later, they got on the modern train. Instead of going to their reserved

seats, they decided to go to the café. Christopher quickly realized that the staff didn‟t

speak English either here. Even though it seemed like an egocentric attitude, the fact

that nobody could speak English was something that annoyed him about Spanish

people. Franks had no option but to translate again while his colleague was thinking

that, if the corpse had some relation with their investigations he should learn

Spanish.

After less than an hour of travelling, they arrived at the station of Valladolid. Logically

they were both really puzzled and did not know what to do or where to go. They

finally went to a small place which seemed to be the tourist office and was at the train

station. Franks quickly leaned on the counter, almost pushing the woman who was

going to help them.

─Excuse me, could you tell me how to get to La Antigua? ─he asked the woman in

an Anglo-Saxon accent.

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─Yes, of course! ─she answered in a not bad English accent. (Christopher breathed

a sigh of relief, at last they had found somebody who spoke their language.

So with the map in his hand, and the girl‟s directions scribbled -to speak frankly, with

less style than was expected from her level of English- they went to the city centre

where La Antigua Church was.

Shortly after leaving the station, less than two hundred metres away, they bumped

into a crowd which was walking around one of the most important avenues of the

city, called La Acera Recoletos.

Apparently, it was one of the typical holy processions that paraded to celebrate

Easter. Franks explained to his colleague that those of Valladolid were particularly

well-known.

But Christopher didn‟t really care, he was lost in thoughts despite the noise of drums

from the procession and now he was only wondering how he could get through the

crowd.

“Tam, tatam, tam, tam, tam…”, Christopher heard the drums coming nearer.

Hundreds of people were gathering in Valladolid‟s centre, waiting for something, and

he felt a prickling excitement in the air. What was going to happen here?

─Look, there! ─Franks pointed at a nearly two-metre-high cross wandering around

the corner towards them, then he could see the man who was carrying it, dressed in

a long black costume. He wore a mask of screaming red cloth that covered all his

shoulders and face, ending in a pointy hat.

„He looks like an executioner -Christopher thought-, only revealing his sparkling eyes

behind the red cloth, holding a burning torch‟. ─I‟ve never seen something like this

before ─he whispered.

Franks nodded but did not say that these creatures strongly made him think of the Ku

Klux Clan.

29

The three parallel rows stopped and then passed by, only a hand‟s length away from

them. A child next to him began to cry. It was a tense atmosphere with a bitter touch

of threat and helplessness.

“Tam, tam. Tatatatam…”. The strong, monotonic rhythm made him feel slightly

apathetic. He watched banners and soldiers pass by, then a man with a silver Bible;

he felt he could almost smell the old, deep origin of this tradition.

„It‟s kind of scary -he thought-, it really seems like the inquisitions of the old times,

when clergymen marched through towns to discover and sentence the supposed

„witches‟ to death…‟.

30

Finally, he could catch a view of the wooden, crowned figure all were waiting for: The

crucified Christ, an original sculpture considered a valuable piece of art. „Together

with the enormous cross, the sea of red roses and the heavy wooden base…how

much weight would the twenty men have to carry on their shoulders?‟ He could see

them suffer and remembered reading that each person would bear about 100kg on

their shoulders.

─Stop! ─a sharp voice cut the air. The procession stopped as the man in the suit had

ordered. Slowly the men carrying the sculpture let the base down a bit to give their

shoulders a little rest.

─Lift him again, high up to the sky! ─he shouted again. So the caravan continued in

its own slow walk that imitated the pain of Christ…

Night was cold and time seemed to be frozen. When all the brotherhoods, the bishop

and the widows had passed, Christopher felt lonely but relieved. “¿Qué tal?” (How

are you?) Voices seemed to come back to life, people were talking easier again. He

felt his blood circulate.

Later, when they would ask him about the procession, he found it difficult to describe

his feelings. Random? Dramatic? Radical? Scary? Melancholic? Peculiar?...

However, what he knew for sure was that he would not forget this night. Its powerful

impression would be burnt into his head and heart forever.

But this strong feeling was something familiar to him. However, he did not know what

it was exactly. He stopped to look around for the last time and he realized that there

was a man, whose face he knew from somewhere, he was the same blonde man

who had been snooping around his home and spying on him before. Franks tugged

at his sleeve to make him walk again.

As they were walking, Christopher said to Frank he liked the kind of architecture he

was seeing. That was the first time they had a fluent conversation. That fact was

really pleasant for both because that meant they began to trust each other.

* * * * *

31

As soon as they arrived in plaza de Portugalete, from which they could make out La

Antigua, they revised the plan which had been made to enter and to talk to some

Spanish policeman. Detective Franks would show his ID to demonstrate that he was

an English policeman and he would introduce Christopher as an English forensic

detective. They both had made up false papers for Christopher.

32

But except for this detail, everything was true. Franks would say to the police that

they were investigating a murder with the same conditions and with similar

characteristics, and their attention was drawn to this crime while they were in Madrid.

When they were sure that they knew the plan, they went across a large square

towards the church. The whole area was cordoned off by the police and a group of

journalists was outside the temple. This was common to Franks but it may have

taken Christopher by surprise.

They approached the police cordon and Franks talked to a policewoman. She was

young and she seemed to be the same age as Christopher. She was over 1.80

metres tall, her hair was jet black and it contrasted a lot with her blue eyes.

─Hello, miss. We are English policemen. While in Madrid looking for evidence of a

similar crime that happened in our country, we heard about the murder which has

taken place here this morning. My friend from the forensic department and me would

be very interested in seeing the corpse to check if there is a possible relation

between both.

─I cannot give you permission. Anyway come with me to talk to the chief of police, so

you can ask him and he may accept. By the way, what do you have in the case?

─she asked pointing at the briefcase he was carrying.

─Ah! The information from the case, it will be useful to the chief of police when

deciding whether or not to let us in.

─Ok , come…

Meanwhile, a tall and thin old man approached the three of them and ended the

conversation. Christopher, who had seen him coming from far away, assumed that

he was the police Chief because of his uniform, which was a bit different from the

girl‟s, who seemed to be the criminologist of the police force.

─Who are these men, Carmen?

33

─Inspector, they want access to the corpse. They are English policemen who are

investigating a murder similar to this one and they have all the documentation of the

crime in that briefcase.

─Ok, come with me inside. There‟s no problem -said the police Chief-. By the way, I

haven‟t introduced myself yet. I‟m the Chief Inspector and I‟ll be in charge of this

investigation. You can call me Mario, though, officially, I‟m Inspector García.

Detective Franks joined the Inspector, and Christopher was behind them next to the

policewoman who seemed to be called Carmen and who initiated conversation

quickly.

─What‟s your name? ─said Carmen in English.

Christopher, a little surprised, told her his name and they talked in quite fluent

English until they passed through the large wooden door of the church, left wide open

because of the tragic occasion. Christopher‟s perceptions about Spaniards and the

English language began to change after the conversation.

Christopher immediately noticed that that girl was interesting. After two seconds‟

hesitation in his brain he remembered his father and he promised himself to work

hard and not to think about women right then.

Having entered the church, they found that there weren‟t many people, which was

contrary to Christopher‟s expectations. Apart from them there was someone who

presumably was the forensic scientist with two or three assistants and two policemen

watching over the church. The light was strange to him, as he wasn‟t used to the

stained glass which was illuminated by the permanent mist of the area; it came

through those coloured large windows behind the altar. The sensation was

indescribable, he felt very strange. And underneath the stained glass, the horror!:

There lied the corpse which was being examined by the forensic scientist before its

removal. The smell was intense and the view was difficult to bare. The face wasn‟t

completely destroyed, so that you could see some facial features, like his budding

beard, dyed red by the blood that had fallen from the forehead.

34

The gaze of the two

detectives, which seemed to

be synchronized, combed the

victim‟s face until it stopped

on a crown of thorns on his

forehead, with that mark now

unmistakeable. It was exactly

the same as María

Chambers‟. Talking about the

rest of the corpse, it had

many stab wounds all over it,

especially in the chest.

Detective Franks, opened the

folder where he kept the

photos, which left no shadow

of a doubt.

The corpse was found on a religious statue in a strange position, which Christopher

and Peter had seen recently, similar to that of the Fallen Angel. It seemed to

Christopher that there were too many coincidences: another murder whose victim

seemed taken out of a painting from the same museum and by the same artist as

that which it appeared María Chambers had been taken from.

What‟s more, both paintings were next to each other in the exhibition of Durham

cathedral, and besides this, the position of the corpse was exactly the same as the

one in the painting and the statue of the Fallen Angel; the body was supported and

tied with ropes in such a way that one elbow pointed towards the ceiling and the

victim‟s clothes were spread hanging from the ropes acting as the wings and a scarf

wrapped around its feet like the snake on the statue.

Yes, it was an important step forward in the investigation which was taking him so

much time, but the thought of another person having been murdered in such a brutal

way turned his stomach.

35

─What‟s wrong, Christopher? ─asked Carmen.

The man was surprised again by her friendly words. After a few moments in which he

was not sure whether he was going to answer, he managed to say a sentence that

made sense:

─The mark is the same as in our case ─proclaimed Christopher.

─Oh hell, so this changes everything a lot. Inspector García, could you come here?

─asked Carmen. Inspector García approached with Detective Franks.

─Yes, Carmen. What is happening? ─asked the inspector.

─Look at these photos, Inspector. This mark on the corpse‟s forehead is the same as

the one found on the victim in the English case.

─It is true … I‟m afraid that these murders are related to each other. We will have to

prepare ourselves for a complicated investigation ─warned the Spaniard.

─Have you found any other clues near the body? ─asked Franks at the end of the

explanation.

─We‟ve found an open Bible where there were some verses surrounded by a circle.

«Keep far from the man with the power to kill and you will not be worried by the fear

of death». «And if thou come to him, commit no fault, lest he take away thy life».

─They‟re from Ecclesiastes 9:18, 19

─Just like in Durham Cathedral, the verse said: «God giveth life, God taketh it away»

─added Franks.

The Chief Inspector addressed Franks and told him:

─You and your colleague are going to have to stay some days in town. I‟ll give you

the address of a hotel where we can reserve a bedroom for you. I‟ll call you as soon

as we have more information about the corpse.

36

While Franks gave his telephone to the police, the corpse was lifted up. They would

soon know more about the victim and if he had any relation with the artist murdered

in Durham. Inspector García stayed talking to the police officers who were inside the

church when they went in, and once the corpse was outside, Christopher, Detective

Franks and Carmen went out of the church and headed towards the hotel.

─ I‟ll go with you to the hotel. ─she said in English to Christopher.

─Perfect, I doubt we‟d know how to get to the hotel on our own, especially taking into

account that no one speaks English, even though Detective Franks knows some

Spanish.

The Spaniard, showing again how extroverted she was, asked him:

─Why does he speak Spanish?

─To be honest, I don‟t know ─answered Christopher.

─Then you should ask him. It‟s good to know something about the life of the person

you‟re going to spend several days with.

Christopher, who -even though didn‟t like to admit it- was quite shy, felt paradoxically

comfortable next to someone as impulsive as Carmen.

He was very attracted to the girl and was sure that she also felt something for him.

Just like a few hours before, he tried to stop thinking about her and concentrate on

what really mattered: the investigation of the crime.

He thought of what his father would say if, at this point of the process, he abandoned

everything for love, and he made himself promise again that this time he would not

let him down.

The young detective filled several pages of his notebook with notes that he‟d analyze

later on and that could lead them to something interesting. Christopher always took a

folder with him, which contained this notebook, which he sometimes used as a diary

to relieve himself, some art notes that he read from time to time to disconnect, and

37

the little photo of him with his father, in which he saw that painting that seemed so

familiar to him. It was the picture of the young girl in the living room with torture

instruments around her. This folder was like his amulet, with the three things he

should never forget: his job as a detective, his passion: art, and his father and his

feelings toward him.

That night Christopher invited them to supper: Franks (his father‟s friend, and soon to

be his own friend as well) and the criminologist they owed an explanation to.

In the restaurant, chosen by Carmen, while the English were enjoying the delicious

lechazo from Valladolid, they told her all that had happened and what they were

experiencing now. Carmen understood everything, she saw it made sense, and she

decided to help them and form part of the investigation team.

The girl also explained that this case had caused a lot of social uproar in Valladolid

due to the date it had taken place in. It was Holy Week in Valladolid, the week in

which the passion, death and resurrection of Christ is commemorated, and this could

have something to do with the murder.

The murderer or murderers had achieved their goal: to impact the people and have

everyone talking about it, that is to say, to make the murder public. This is what he

wanted as demonstrated by his decision to do it this week, in a church and leaving

the body that way on top of a work of art.

Everything was already quite busy with the numerous tourists that were coming to

town to see the Holy Week celebrations. Actually, the walk served him more to get to

know Carmen than to see the city. Carmen was slightly younger than Christopher,

contrary to what he had thought. She was 28 while he was 33. Her life wasn‟t too

interesting at first glance. She was a country girl born in a village near the capital.

She had always been interested in crimes, and so she didn‟t hesitate in going abroad

to study criminology (that‟s why she spoke fluent English). She came back to work as

a scientific police, and half a year ago they had told her to move to Valladolid, a lucky

move for her. She confessed to him it was her first really bloody and complicated

crime and that she was used to dealing with domestic violence related crimes.

38

Talking about love, she had never had a serious boyfriend, although we can't say that

she was precisely a solitary person, and she had dated a few guys in Valladolid

while she had been studying. Just like Christopher, she lost her father 5 years ago,

while studying at university. She only had a mother who lived alone in a quite old flat

in the centre. She wasn‟t very old and she could get around perfectly well, and she

participated in many elderly people activities.

After taking that walk, they went to one of the pubs in the university area and they

had a drink together. And later -it might have been one a.m. as Christopher

calculated-, they went up to Carmen's apartment. Christopher felt a shiver down his

spine. He had a little memory about the last time he had been alone with a girl in a

room, but it was such a long time ago... his work usually monopolized his body and

his mind, leaving him without time to do anything else. Without realising, he was right

in front of her.

Carmen's lips caught Christopher's passionately. Her hands under his clothes... very

slowly, feeling little by little, how a huge heat overcame them. The bed was just a

couple of metres behind those two bodies, where they spent an incredible night of

love as they had never had.

They saw each other off with a sensual kiss and Christopher went out to the street. It

was getting light on an oddly warm Palm Sunday, and when he was walking, with an

almost irrational satisfaction flooding his soul, he realised that he loved that woman

more than he had ever had before.

He had taken one of the keys of the room which they had been given and he arrived

to the hotel at three a.m. He couldn't believe his eyes when he saw Franks: he was

still there, bent over his table full of papers, with a little lamp illuminating his sight,

which was full of smoke because of the several number of cigarettes that he had

smoked.

─Hey you, how was your night out, Mr. Casanova? ─asked the detective, in an ironic

way.

39

─Nothing too special, how was your night full of investigation, Mr. Holmes? -with the

same irony as his partner-.

─There are some things to tell you, but I think it would be better to talk about it

tomorrow. I'm very tired right now and I suppose that you are too.

While Detective Franks reflected on all the things he had found during his long

searching hours, Christopher thought about Carmen and about his irregular li fe, just

in general. He considered that he had to ask himself how and why he had landed in

Spain and fallen in love in just an evening (an evening in which he had seen so many

things). Both silent, they got to sleep after a tiring day.

It was twelve in the morning. The sun of Palm Sunday got in through the blinds‟ gaps.

They woke up at the same time and quickly they took turns showering and they got

dressed. A little later, they were in the street going to La Antigua‟s church where they

were meeting Carmen and the inspector García in order to talk about the murder and

to know how the investigation was progressing. When they arrived to the temple,

there were more curious people with nothing better to do than there were policemen

who they could talk to. Carmen was also there, wearing sun-glasses because of the

dark circles under her eyes.

─Hey guys, looks like you just woke up, uh? ─said Carmen.

─If you take off those glasses I could say the same thing about you –answered

Franks.

─Very witty, detective. I know that last night you were up investigating. Is there

anything new?

─Well, I wrote down interesting things about Maria Chambers‟ past that came in your

father‟s diary, Christopher ─Franks said to him.

Carmen changed the subject and she asked them to follow her to the restaurant

where they had booked a table. Franks asked her where the inspector was and she

40

answered that he had phoned saying that he‟d go directly from the anatomical

pathologist‟s office to the restaurant and he‟d bring fresh news about the case.

In fact, when they arrived to the establishment, a few meters away from the church,

Mario was already waiting at the door. He also had a tired look on his face and

Christopher suspected that he had got up early to go to the autopsy.

They entered, they took a seat and they ordered after Carmen had translated the

menu for Christopher, sharing secretive looks that Franks noticed. Immediately, the

inspector García gave them more information about who the victim was:

Hans Kappelhoff was a 63- year- old German who was dedicated to restoring

and giving life to sculptures. For many years he was a teacher in a German

school of Fine Arts and we also know through his work and ideology, that he

was very religious.

─Well, all this looks very complicated ─commented Maria confused.

The meal went by without any new breakthroughs in the case, unlike those that

appear so many times in detective novels when they always find out something

crucial in the investigation. Carmen invited them to go to her house because it was

close, in order to photocopy the report that the inspector had brought. So, when they

paid for the lunch, they went up to the house which Christopher was already familiar

with.

At five in the afternoon they were in their hotel room. Christopher took the other chair

in the room and he brought it next to Franks‟. They carefully read the report written

up in detail by the inspector. Quarter of an hour later, they found almost everything

that they needed. Indeed, the crimes seemed to be related. The detective Franks

was reviewing conscientiously both victims‟ pasts to find similar elements.

─Christopher, leave that. I‟ve found something ─Franks said to him, pointing at the

papers.

─Have you really found something? ─answered Christopher with perplexity.

41

They continued investigating, and, through the nuns and others sources like the

school of Fine Arts where she studied, they found that Hans was Maria‟s teacher and

they began a really close relationship, like father and daughter.

Hans spent the most part of his life living in Germany and taking frequent trips to

England, to meet his ex-student and friend Maria Chambers, who also made trips to

Germany. They haven‟t found anything yet about his family or his childhood, simply

one thing that surprised them a little: he graduated with a Fine Arts degree and he

specialized in drawing and painting but he wasn‟t just an artist; he also enjoyed

investigating and studying the history of fascinating pictures, some of which were

very famous. He looked into: Who painted them? Why? Where? How? When?

Which museums were they in?…

Carmen knew, thanks to the police who investigated the victim‟s house, that Hans

had written a lot of reports about many paintings when he was young, so she had

taken them home to have a close look at them. When they finished reading them

they realized that they seemed incomplete. Carmen translated the main ideas from

those old and wrinkled papers from German into English:

“There is a series of pictures that I love; although they have been painted in

different countries (England, Germany, Holland, the Czech Republic and

Spain), they present many common characteristics: the topic of religion, death

and The Holy Bible. In a few months they will all be shown in an English

cathedral. I don‟t know what feeling they want to produce with these paintings, I

think that the idea that they want to transmit is that if someone commits a sin,

God will punish him. I‟m investigating who the authors of these works of art are

and I have found out many interesting things…‟‟.

They didn‟t know how to put together all this new information but the question was:

Why did Hans, being an expert in painting and pictures, become a sculpture teacher

in Germany and why did he come to Spain to work as an art restorer a few years

later?

Meanwhile, Franks had phoned the inspector and the inspector phoned Carmen and

they arranged to meet at the hotel entrance at seven o‟clock. As there was one hour

42

to go before the meeting, the detective had a shower while Christopher was still

reading the reports about the past of both artists. There appeared to be no evidence

of their time spent in that small art school of Weinheim, a town with 40,000 people

near Frankfurt.

While in the shower Franks shivered remembering something he had almost

forgotten: his ex-wife. His ex-wife lives in Frankfurt. He didn‟t like this at all. Although

he didn‟t have to see her he still felt uneasy. „‟We are not staying in Frankfurt, but in

another city,‟‟ he kept repeating to himself, trying to relax. He decided not to say

anything to Christopher because he didn‟t want him to know that he also had a

reason to not concentrate on the murders.

Shortly before seven o‟clock, they went downstairs to the hall and immediately after,

the two Spanish police officers arrived. They sat down in the cafeteria opposite the

hotel and Franks took out the two reports (the English and the Spanish) and showed

the connection between the two crimes.

─There is no doubt that they have something in common: as both crimes are similar

and with this information about the art school there must be a relationship ─said the

inspector.

─You are right. It seems that Christopher and I have to make a trip to that German

city. Anyone wants to come along? ─Franks hinted, addressing his gaze to Carmen.

─I‟m going ─said the criminologist looking at Christopher.

─I can‟t go, but I‟d like to. I think that I can‟t go on vacation right now and I must stay

here to coordinate the investigation ─said the Spanish inspector.

Christopher thought about what would happen in Germany. He felt that the inspector

had warned Carmen against getting into a love relationship during such a serious

investigation.

43

Now without the inspector around, things might change. Also, Christopher could

speak German and wasn‟t going to need a translator. Smiling and convinced his life

was going to get better shortly, he said goodbye to the inspector and to Carmen and

he went with detective Franks to their room to pack up.

In fact they hadn‟t really unpacked their suitcases and so there were hardly any

clothes in the wardrobes. One of them uncomfortable and the other one happy, they

went downstairs to have dinner at the hotel‟s little restaurant where they tried some

of the excellent Spanish cuisine and, without talking, they went to bed where they

tried to sleep without success.

The sun was rising at eight o‟clock on Holy Monday morning. They were going to

take the bus to Barajas airport at twelve o‟ clock, so they got up and they dressed

and after a light breakfast they went to Carmen‟s house to pick her up.

Christopher liked travelling and he felt sad to leave Valladolid without visiting

anything in the city. They went past La Antigua, which looked as if nothing had

happened there and they arrived to the criminologist‟s flat. After that, the inspector

arrived with more photocopies of the reports and with a pen drive with all the

information about the macabre murder. They didn‟t have much time so they went

down to the street and they took a taxi which took them to the city bus station.

* * *

Three hours later they were buying tickets in one of the check- in desks at the airport

in Madrid. Christopher was thinking that he would never forget this short visit and

Franks hoping that the airplane wouldn‟t take off. Without a doubt they were afraid of

what would happen in Germany. Christopher and Carmen held hands despite the

shocked expression on Franks‟ face and they got on the plane, which was the bridge

to the investigation and also an important step in a fascinating chapter of their lives.

44

45

germany

Chapter 3

46

47

The plane from Spain arrived in Frankfurt Airport. In there Carmen, Christopher and

Franks all very excited to come to Germany, especially to Weinheim where they

hoped to find out more about Hans Kappelhoff, the last victim in this mysterious case.

During the flight the three had time to talk about the next steps to get more

informative details about Kappelhoff´s life. Carmen was ... and Franks, to

Christopher and Carmen‟s surprise, got more open and talked a bit about his privacy.

“My ex-wife lives in Frankfurt”, he said with a sighing voice. “Do you mind if I stay

there for two days? We won‟t be able to ... as there is bank holidays in Germany at

the moment. I could see her again and talk some things over. What do you think? I

know this place quite well, I‟ll show you where to go and which platform you have to

go to get to Weinheim, and so there won‟t be any problems for you.”

Carmen and Christopher looked at each other, a bit surprised, but both nodded their

head. “Of course, Franks, of course,” Carmen replied quickly and touched

Christopher‟s hand on the armrest with a promising smile. “It‟s perfect. Christopher

and I can already have a look around there and use the time to get to know the

place. We can meet Monday morning then and keep in contact by mobile.”

After they had fetched their luggage the three walked determinedly through the crowd

in the direction of the long distance railway station where the ICE to Mannheim was

already waiting for them on the platform. “The train will quickly take you to Mannheim

directly. You‟ll get off there and get a taxi. The taxi driver can bring you to Weinheim

then. All in all it will take you another hour.” They shook hands. Franks somehow

quickly turned away and hurried back vanishing into the air in the busy crowd.

When they stepped down the stairs from the main station in Mannheim the most

beautiful and sunniest weather in springtime was welcoming them in the Rhine-

Neckar-Region.

In Weinheim they checked in the small but very nice hotel “Ottheinrich” which the taxi

driver recommended nearby the market place in opposite of the town‟s old protestant

church which was built up around 1350.

They unpacked their suitcases and as they both felt a bit exhausted of the trip they

had a nap in Christopher‟s room, though both had booked a single room – for official

reasons - they very much felt to stay with each other.

In the late afternoon they got up and felt hungry. They went down and left the hotel to

look for a nice place to have something to eat. As the wanted to taste typical German

48

food, they decided to ask two younger people walking by where to have dinner. “My

English, ehm, not so good, sorry.”, one of them replied a bit ashamed. Both went on

talking to each other in German, then the other one turned towards Carmen and

Christopher saying “The Woinemer Brauerei” is a very nice place. They have regional

menus and they brew their own beer there. It‟s really a great restaurant.” and he went

on explaining the way.

Carmen and Christopher lingered along the Hauptstraße leading further into the

pedestrian zone where Carmen gazed into the shop windows enjoying the displays,

whereas Christopher suddenly started to grumble about the case and the fact that

they weren‟t even close to any further clues to solve it. “Instead of working hard,

finding new hints and detecting the case, I am having a wonderful time with this

wonderful woman… What would my father say? … I mustn‟t goof it…I must prove

myself”

In this moment he could feel Carmen‟s tender embrace and her soft and warm lips on

his, what made him forget his strenuous thoughts again. His heart was beating fast

and he put his arm around her and they walked along their way to the restaurant.

After dinner they decided to take a taxi back to the hotel and to go to bed early.

In the hotel you could see them taking the lift upstairs and leaving into their own

rooms, though one could notice from the way they looked at each other whispering

“Good night” and the tension in the air that they wouldn‟t spend their night alone.

It was ten o‟clock when both meet again downstairs at the reception where

Christopher was talking to the receptionist.”... We can enjoy exceptionally warm

temperatures throughout the next days with lots of sunshine and a warm west wind.”

they heard the man predicting the weather forecast on TV hanging on the wall next to

the reception. “This morning is even sunnier and warmer than the day we arrived.

Let‟s have breakfast outside in a suntrap.”

Christopher and Carmen lingered to the Old Marketplace hand in hand and stopped

at a cosy small café: Café Florian. Here they sat down outside on the terrace and

had a typical German breakfast with coffee, brown bread and fresh rolls, butter and

jam. Christopher tried Alpine cheese and German beacon whereas Carmen enjoyed

the taste of two soft-boiled eggs in a glass, a breakfast speciality in this place.

49

One hour later after having chatted and watched people walking up and down the

market, they sallied forth into the pedestrian area that opened out into the market

place. At the corner Christopher and Carmen saw a sign telling “Daily sight seeing

tour in English through Weinheim at 01:00 pm. Meeting point: The Old Fountain at

the Marketplace”. “That‟s a fantastic way to explore this town, Christopher.” Carmen

said spontaneously. “What do you think?”

Later both were seen tourist like walking through Weinheim guided by Mr Wildman a

passionate and historically well informed tourist guide who was showing them around

in town to see the most important sights there: The Old Fountain, the ancient

pharmacy, the Old Town Hall, the Castle and the Old Cedar which needed five adults

with spread-eagled arms to be finally surrounded. Later they continued their tour into

the Castle‟s Exotic Park with its broad meadows, overhanging exotic trees from all

over the continents and along labyrinthine ways passing secretly hidden green

places behind hedges and shrubs inviting children and others to hide there, When

they passed the pond and birds´ aviary within the park, they suddenly found

themselves in front of an old tower, the “Blue Hat” and an ancient frame house.

50

“This is one of the oldest houses here.” Mr

Wildman commented assiduously, “It was built

in ... and it‟s said that it used to be the love nest

of Anna Maria Luisa d´Medici married at the

age of 23 to Johann Wilhelm, pals grave of

Palatinate. She was happily married to her

husband – though without any children - and

happily involved with an Italian architect and

painter whom she asked to come to Weinheim

in order to support her husband with his project

to expand the little castle into a monumental

palace. As the construction of the new part of

the castle was never carried out he went on living in this tiny contemplative frame

house which he also used as a studio and met Anna Maria there. Today you still find

the well known Arts School “Kunstschule am Blauen Hut”.

Christopher and Carmen suddenly were alerted when they heard the guide telling

this. “That‟s a wonderful and important piece of information, Carmen”, Christopher

whispered excitedly. He took out his notebook while Carmen marked the position of

the building on her little map of the town. They seemed to remember the real cause

51

of being here in Weinheim which they both somehow had forgotten about as they

were following the tour and the flow of their feelings.

“Oh, it‟s not open today, Carmen, we have to come again tomorrow. The sign on the

entrance door says it opens at 10:00 am. And here, “Christopher pointes at some

German words, “I think, this must be the owner‟s name … Georg Mayer.”

“We have to stop the tour here, Carmen!” Christopher demanded with a serious voice

somehow feeling confident that he could continue working out on the new

information.

“The old Ruins of Windeck Castle are well worth seeing, Christopher. It was built

after 1100 to protect the monastery of Lorsch and with its spiral staircase built into

the wall of the keep it is an architectural rarity.“

Carmen seemed absolutely fond of the antique

bricks and stones. “Have a look, from here you

can see Wachenburg Castle, perched high on

the top of the Wachenberg hill, Christopher. This

place is so unique, carino. And who knows, if we

ever will have the chance to see this again!”

Carmen replied making seducing eyes at

Christopher followed by a tender kiss.

“I‟m very sorry, darling, but we shouldn‟t forget

the real cause of our journey. Or do you think

differently?”

Carmen gave in. She was offended. “Of course

not!”

As it was Easter Monday and all the shops were still closed, both hurried back to the

hotel and started their further investigations on the internet.

They goggled Georg Mayer‟s name and address and discovered interesting material:

- famous painter in the 70ies;

- member of a community of brilliant artist living near Durham, England;

- pictures of his drawings.

52

He did further secondary researches and discovered that besides Georg Mayer Hans

Kappelhoff and a woman whose name is Anna Maria Lopez, a brilliant female artist

from Spain, were members of the artists´ community from 1977 till 1980.

Christopher printed out the information and carefully put it into his notebook.

With a smile he turned towards Carmen “Great work, my dear, let‟s have dinner

somewhere. It‟s been getting late throughout doing the researches… almost seven.

Dress up, I invite you to the very best restaurant in town. We have found something

important, I can feel that.”

While Carmen disappeared in her hotel room to have a shower and to put on her

nicest dress, Christopher talked to the man at the reception once more to find out

where he could take her out tonight for dinner.

Nearly an hour later they went uphill the Old Market because the weather still was

unexpectedly warm for a spring night in late April and entered the finest restaurant

“Hutter im Schloss”.

As soon as they stepped inside the restaurant, a white linen table cloths and dimmed

candle atmosphere was welcoming them with romantic music pleasantly playing in

the background.

53

They were served by a very attentive waiter who offered them a glass of rose

champagne and led them to a table laid with fine white table cloth, fine bone china

porcelain and silver cutlery. While the couple sat down the waiter lit the candles and

offered the menu cards. Both ordered a 3 course menu.

Carmen was as overwhelmed as Christopher by this somehow minimalist luxurious,

but still appealing interior, they both didn‟t expect. So it didn‟t take long till both were

captured by this scenery and their loving feelings for each other. Besides the point

that the aperitif stimulated both of them, they both were as talkative as never before.

While hanging at each others lips when one of them was chatting, the other adored

the vis-à-vis during the course of the menu. The long table cloth elegantly hid their

barefoot communication underneath. “I love you, Carmen” Christopher whispered.

“And I have trust in you, carino.”

When they left the restaurant you could see their reddened cheeks, not only because

of the excellent red wine they had had throughout the night. Before they left, Carmen

asked the waiter for another bottle of the delicious liquid, as her intention was to have

a little walk in the Castle Park, which they had already seen during the day doing the

tourist tour. Hand in hand they walked a long the small paths and if both hadn‟t held

each other in their arms from time to time, they couldn‟t have coped with walking

straight as they seemed both to be tipsy.. “Let‟s sit down, here, Christopher”, and

gentleman like he took off his elegant jacket and both finally sat down in the meadow

popping the cork the waiter already had unsealed for them beforehand. “What a

starry night, have a look Christopher, how bright the stars are shining”. “Not as bright

as your amazing eyes, my love.” He kissed her tenderly and they both laid slowly

down. While Christopher was covering Carmen‟s face with tender kisses she went on

whispering.

“I feel so sure about you, Christopher, and I feel I can tell you my deepest secrets…

“Christopher didn´t react and went on caressing Carmen‟s skin. Carmen took a deep

breath “You know… ehm, you have to know, Christopher … Hans Kappelhoff… well,

he is… ehm, he was my father.” But Christopher couldn‟t really hear what she said

as he was so inebriated by the red wine and Carmen‟s beautiful body. Carmen

surrendered and embraced him passionately as if she would put all her hope in this

trustworthy and reliable man. “They aren‟t all that bad, mum” , she thought as she let

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herself go with a wave of a warm loving feeling and then was emotionally swept

away.

And as the sun was rising in the early morning you could see them closely enlaced

and deep in thoughts slowly walking back to the hotel to huddle under their warm

comforters.

Next day Christopher woke up with a heavy pain in his head and scuffled with his

slippers across the bedroom into the bathroom to drink some tap water in order to get

rid of the dry and awful taste in his mouth. It happened he was able to see himself in

the mirror and a dump moan slipped off his mouth as he recognized his face.

Headshaking he was walking back to the bed, where he could see this wonderful

woman still asleep.

He tenderly kissed her but she didn´t move so he decided to have a shower and to

continue his investigations on Hans Kappelhoff. “Hans Kappelhoff - …!” Standing

under the warm shower with his head in the neck and the water running down his

face and body, he couldn‟t remember exactly everything of the night before. He felt

that after they had left the restaurant everything in the park was magic, but

mysterious. Never before, he was so close to a woman‟s heart and soul.

But an inner voice also told him to concentrate on the case again, especially because

the bank holidays were over.

After he had got dressed, he packed his notebook and went downstairs to the

receptionist to reassure the correct way to the art school “Kunstschule am Blauen

Hut”. Again the sun was shining warmly and from somewhere close-by he could hear

tower‟s chime twelve times promising a cheerful spring like Tuesday when he left the

hotel in direction to his point of interest on foot.

Arriving there some minutes later he found the blue painted front door wide open. A

young woman, about 33 years, was cleaning the sandstone stairs with a broom in her

hand and a confident smile on her face.

Christopher talked to her and he was lucky she could speak English, so he easily

could tell her the reason of his concern. She nodded her head and Christopher

entered the picturesque frame house after the woman stepped aside welcoming him

with a inviting gesture of her hand.

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About two hours later you could see Christopher leaving the house happily and

loping back towards the Old Market Place, to sit down there and to think over the

new information he got from Susanne, the young woman who now owes the little

frame house and runs an Arts School for children and adults. After Christopher had

talked to her, she got upstairs in the attic with him to look for an old wooden box in

which her father – from whom she inherited the small listed house - used to keep old

photos and documents. There she found Georg Mayer‟s name on a sale contract.

“After my father purchased the property, I remember he kept contact as in the

beginning there were still some bureaucratic problems to face. As far as I remember

he left for Prague. I think, he was offered a position as art historian there at Prague

University. I remember that my father once was really excitedly telling me about a

man who asked for Georg Mayer as well. This man was so very much in rage that he

didn‟t meet him at this address, so he shouted at my father. My father could

remember his name for years, and as he told me this strange incident lots of times in

the beginning, even I still remember his name: Hans Kappelhoff.”

Arriving at the Old Market Place, he sat down absolutely confidently in the warming

early afternoon sun at Café Florian again and ordered a bottle of water and the days

menu. He skipped breakfast this morning and though he had some coffee at

Susanne‟s he felt hungry now.

He took out his mobile and wrote a message to Carmen to inform her about the latest

status quo.

“CALL ME ASAP. NEW FACTS. KISS + HUGS C”

With a smile he turned towards the waitress who brought his menu and the drink he

had ordered, took out his notebook and started to write in it while he had lunch bit by

bit.

From time to time he looked up and took a look around. “What a lovely day it is and

what a lovely place.” he thought while his eyes enjoyed the view around.

His ringing mobile pulled him back from his thoughts and called his attention.

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It was Franks. Christopher reckoned that he nearly had forgotten about him

throughout these days with Carmen in this charming town. He answered the phone

quickly and was happy to hear Franks´ familiar voice again.

“Hi, Christopher, this is Franks. How are you?”

“Thanks, Franks, ´what about you? I‟m really happy to hear you. Did things work out

fine with your ex-wife in Frankfurt?”

“Thanks. Yes, indeed, Christopher. Listen, I‟m a bit confused. Carmen phoned me

some minutes ago and she told me to stay a bit longer in Frankfurt. She said, you still

didn‟t find out any further information. So I am rather wondering if I could support you

with doing the investigations in Weinheim. Don‟t you think so, too?

“Oh, I didn‟t know Carmen has called you. We haven‟t talked to each other yet this

morning.” Christopher replied with an astonished tone in his voice. “I‟m surprised.” He

thought, “I have to talk to Carmen seriously about being more professional in this

case just because of Franks who knew how much time and efforts his father already

had put into this case – without solving it in the end. And now him! I don‟t want to

mess it up just because of my feelings towards Carmen…”

“So, what shall we do? Shall I join you or not?”

“Sorry, Franks … no… no… yes, actually we have to meet because I have found out

more details about Georg Mayer. Carmen doesn‟t know about it yet.”

“Are you and Carmen fine?”

“Ehm… yes, yes, Franks, don‟t worry. It‟s just that I decided to do some researches

alone early in the morning without Carmen.”

“I see, well, Christopher, you know I like you a lot and it is obvious to see that

Carmen and you like each other. Still you shouldn‟t forget the real cause of being

here in Weinheim. Your father… we,, Christopher, … he would have loved it and

really been proud if you solved the case, Franks.” – Franks flashed into action

hearing this, jumped up the chair and packed his notebook saying good bye to

Franks after they had arranged to meet in Frankfurt at the main station late this

evening. Somehow he was relieved and angry about Franks´ reaction. He was happy

to have Franks aside then and to be able to continue working analytically again on

the new facts. Still he felt Franks´ words were putting him under pressure… a

manner his father used to have as well, and for which Christopher really sometimes

hated him. Still he had ambivalent feelings towards Carmen now that she was acting

this way. He was confused and a bit concerned about her. “Why did she behave like

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this?” – “Did she misunderstand my very clear message?” – “What kind of woman is

she?!” – “What does she really know about Hans Kappelhoff?” – Hans Kappelhoff!

Like in the morning under the shower this name was somehow sounding in his head

again and again.

He called Carmen right away and heard her soft voice whispering through his mobile

into his ear feeling a weakening shiver running down his back. “Buck up,

Christopher.” he reproved himself.

“Carino, oh, thanks a lot for letting me sleep so late. Finally Franks´ call woke me up.

He asked me if it would be okay, if he would stay a bit longer in Frankfurt with is wife.

I told him to do so, as we haven‟t any news concerning the case. What are your

plans for today, carino?”

Christopher now could feel a cold shiver crawling up and surrounding his heart. In a

rather serious and shortcut voice he said. “Pack the suitcases. We‟ll leave Weinheim

for Frankfurt in some hours. I‟ll go and check the train connections to Frankfurt. I‟ll

fetch you at the hotel by taxi. We‟ll definitely meet Franks.”

Quickly he paid the bill and asked the waitress to call him a taxi which then took him

to the town‟s station. There he wanted to buy the tickets for him and Carmen to get to

Frankfurt, furthermore three additional tickets to get from there to Prague.

“Best you can do is to take a taxi to Mannheim, if you are in a hurry. There you can

catch the ICE at 17:31 to Frankfurt main station.” the man behind the counter advised

him. Christopher agreed and handed over his credit card while he explained him how

to get to Prague. “You‟re too late then for the speed trains to Prague, Sir, so the most

convenient way to travel is the night train bed included. I‟ve done a reservation for

three persons, 2nd class. Frankfurt main station via Leipzig and Dresden to Prague

main station. The train leaves at 20:22 and you‟ll arrive in Prague at 09:56 in the

morning. You have a board restaurant where you can have dinner at night and

breakfast in the morning, if you wish. Here you are.” and he handed back

Christopher‟s credit card together with the tickets. “Have a nice trip, Sir, and enjoy

your time in this beautiful city.” Christopher heard him say when he left the counter in

a hurry heading towards the taxi which was still waiting for him. “Back to town,

please. Hotel Ottheinirch.” he asked the taxi driver with a hounded voice and

immediately was reminded to Carmen.

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Carmen was already waiting in the lounge for Christopher‟s arrival. As soon as she

saw the taxi and figured out Christopher was in there, she stepped outside the hotel

and ran into his arms. Christopher was taken by surprise as she embraced him and

huddled her cheeks against his chest. “We‟ve to hurry, Carmen. “ Christopher said

with a softer pitch of his voice as he intended to have as things were confusing with

Carmen at the moment and he wasn‟t able to hide his irritation about it. He

disengaged himself from her somehow childish cuddle. “Get into the car. We‟ll go to

Mannheim right away and from there to Frankfurt to meet Franks. I‟ll just go in again

and pay the receipts.” While Carmen followed his instructions, the taxi driver stepped

into the lounge to fetch the luggage and Christopher went to the receptionist.

Some minutes later they all sat in the taxi again heading for Mannheim. Carmen sat

very close to Christopher in the back and she started burbling, but Christopher took

out his mobile and called Franks. “Franks, hi, it‟s me Christopher. We‟re on the way

to Frankfurt. I‟ve organized the tickets for all of us. Could you please be at platform 8

in Frankfurt main station at 20:22. We‟ll leave from there via Prague. It would be the

best if I inform you then about all the new information we‟ve got now.” Christopher

nodded his head several times accompanied by a short “Right you are” before he

ended the talk. He took a deep breath and a sigh escaped his lips.

“What‟s going on here?” he asked her directly and confronted her with Franks´ phone

call. “Why did you decide on your own to tell Franks not to meet? Why didn‟t you ask

me beforehand?”

Carmen felt attacked by all his questions and slowly moved away from Christopher‟s

side. He was so angry that he didn‟t notice her blocking bearing. She didn‟t reply, but

her mind was talking constantly. “He‟s like the others.” “He let‟s you down.” “How

could I have trusted him?” “I was about to tell him all, now this!” .

The taxi slow down and stopped in front of the station. All at once she was snapped

out of her thoughts.

In a hurry both left the car, fetched their luggage from the boot and rushed towards

the platform were the train was already arriving. Christopher got in the train followed

by her. They stored their luggage above their reserved seats and both sat down

facing each other. Carmen had enough time to gather herself again and reacted to

his attacks. “I woke up around 2 pm and I haven‟t noticed you had sent me a

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message. And as I am involved in this case as much as you are, Inspector, I have

made up my mind and decided to call Franks in order to tell him we wouldn‟t need

him. I don‟t see your problem at all, Christopher.” She fizzled back in a harsh and

sharp voice.

Christopher was somewhat surprised at her response because he rather had

expected some explanations and excuses from her. But this way she presented

herself very cool and businesslike. No comparison to that girly kittenish young

woman getting into the taxi an hour ago. “This Spanish woman seems to be really

difficult for me.” he thought with a hearable sigh.

The atmosphere was frozen and tense. Both of them stared thoughtfully out of the

same window. Suddenly Christopher could feel an invisible wall of distance between

him and her. He wasn‟t able to sort out the situation and moreover he increasingly

wasn‟t able to understand this woman any longer. So he was happy when the train

arrived in Frankfurt and both had to get off in order to meet Franks at platform 8.

He was waving when he saw them walking toward him. Both man hugged and smiled

at each other and were glad to see each other again, whereas Carmen put forth her

hand to shake Franks´ hand.

“Let‟s get in the train right away. I‟m curious, Christopher, to hear the latest news.”

The little group moved on through the crowd into the train and took their seats in the

reserved compartment where they could fold out small beds to sleep in at night.

After they had stored their luggage and had settled Christopher exposed both of

them with the latest information he got from his visit at Susanne‟s little frame house

where Georg Mayer used to live. “He used it as a kind of studio and private Arts

School before the house was sold to Susanne‟s father because he was offered a

position as an art historian at Prague University.” Christopher ended his informative

meeting.

“I‟ll call Inspector Mario Gomez to find out more about Anna-Maria Lopez,

Christopher. He might be able to help us most of all as she seemed to be from

Spain.” Franks said as he dialled Gomez‟s number which he has kept since he had

contacted him several times during their investigations in Spain. But obviously

Gomez didn‟t answer the phone because Franks left a message on his voice box and

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asked him to call back as soon as possible or to send a mail. Luckily the ICE had

internet connection and it was possible for him to check his mail account on their

journey.

While he was doing so, Christopher could catch a glimpse of Carmen‟s face which

was pale. Her skinny fingers were intertwined nervously. So firmly did she clasp her

hands in her lap that her knuckles showed all white. Reaching out to grasp her hand,

he asked her if she was fine. She nodded moonily, pulled away her hand with a jerk

and stood up in order to open the compartment‟s door and leave it walking along the

corridor in direction to the bathrooms.

Christopher more and more felt that Carmen pulled the rug out from under him. He

decided to leave the compartment to have some time alone to think over the

situation. “Would you like anything from the bistro, Franks?” he asked his friend who

rang off as Gomez didn‟t reply the call and who was so occupied with taking notes,

thinking, reflecting and drawing things on a paper that he didn‟t notice Carmen‟s and

Christopher‟s interaction. “Yes, please. I think a cool beer would be absolutely fine

right now. Thanks, Christopher.” he responded without raising his head or looking at

Christopher at all as he left. The bistro was in opposite direction to the bathrooms, so

Christopher was sure he wouldn‟t meet Carmen on his way. He needed some privacy

and quietness. So he sat down in the bistro and ordered a drink. While looking out of

the window and staring into the dawn, Christopher was carried away by his thoughts.

He sometimes sipped at the glass from time to time, but besides this he didn‟t move

at all. After some time all of a sudden he folded his hands behind his head, stretched

his legs and arose from his seat. He bought Franks´ beer and had a spring in his step

as he emerged from the bistro and headed back for the compartment with a confident

smile: He had come back to his job as detective – even more as he had that strange

but certain feeling that Carmen was not, and he had to talk to her because of this.

Close to the compartment he bumped into Franks and Carmen who were on the way

to look for him.

“Where have you been all the time, Christopher? I was in worry about my beer.” he

grinned at him when he saw him with the drink in his hand. He took some long

mouthful and said “Let‟s have another drink at the board restaurant and maybe you

both might have dinner, too. I personally would like to go on doing researches on

internet. .. looking for the paintings, Christopher, that might be the key to the

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murders. I‟ll take some sandwiches with me and inform you later about Garcia‟s call

and my findings.”

“I‟d like to invite both of you” Carmen said.

Inspector Garcia was calling back and he said he could send me further information

on Hans Kappelhoff

Later sitting in their compartment again, Franks started doing some more researches

on internet while Christopher and Carmen prepared their bed.

He opened his mail account and scanned all the information Gomez had sent him at

night.

“I‟d like to explain some things which are important for you to know. Christopher, I‟m

sorry, but I lied to you when I told you my father had died five years ago. No, he

didn‟t. He died some weeks ago as Hans Kappelhoff was my father”

And so Carmen went on telling Christopher and Franks about herself, that she was

born in Durham as a child of Anna-Maria Lopez and Hans Kappelhoff and that both

got divorced when she was six years old. She went back to Spain with her mother

and sometimes was able to see her father either in England or Germany. “The cause

of the divorce was a love affair my father had with a young talented 22-years old

student while he was professor at Durham University of Arts. At about 42 – at start of

his midlife crisis - he seemed to have forgotten all his dutiful principals and started an

affair with her. When my mother found out, they had big quarrels and my father

insisted to get divorced from her. At the beginning we still had contact. All of a

sudden my mother stopped meeting my father at end of 1988, so I lost contact. I

always hoped my parents could come together again, but they didn‟t. When I was at

the age of 13 I started to search for further information about my father as my mother

did never ever mention his name again. I looked everywhere in our home… photos…

diaries, everything was interesting to me. Later I decided to become a detective

especially for international investigations. I hoped to have the chance to get more

information then. I was able to find out that my father left England for Germany pretty

soon and later moved on to Spain where he was travelling around a lot. I was at his

last place of residence which the police computer kept. But no one had seen him

there for ages. I finally met my father when I was asked to do some investigations on

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a murder in La Antigua. He was the last victim in this case. That‟s why all about and

around this case is so important to me!” Carmen finished her incredible report finally

taking a deep long breath. She was talking as if she wanted to get all off her chest.

“When we spent the night at the Castle Park I was so sure I could trust you and I

opened myself and told you about Hans Kappelhoff being my father, but today you

behaved so cold and distanced… and my idea to tell you all this in the morning was

at risk when Franks appeared again.”

“I need to be in this case, Christopher. Sooner or later Inspector Gomez will find out

about it, so I will need your help to find the murderer of my father. Will you help me,

Christopher?”

Christopher was puzzled and somehow he seemed to understand and find an

explanation for her impulsive and contradictive behaviour.

She was begging with her eyes and he understood. But somehow he knew he should

behave detective-like and keep a clear head. “Let me think about it, Carmen.” He

replied with a trustworthy smile.

When they both returned to their compartment after midnight, they found Franks

asleep in his seat. With his working laptop on his lap, his face was slightly illuminated

by the screen light. With his arms folded in front of his chest, the chin on his breast

and the glasses on his nose, Christopher was emotionally swept away for a second

as this picture reminded him of his father.

While Carmen went into the bathroom, Christopher quietly unfolded the beds. Even

Franks´, so he just could get in there as soon as he would wake up. “It might be

better to have her out the case and to continue investigations only with Franks.“ he

thought when he picked up some papers laying on the floor next to Franks´ feet.

Absorbed in thoughts he didn‟t have a look at them as he put them print side up next

to Franks´ seat.

Hans Kappelhoff

*15th March 1946 in Frankfurt/Main,

1952 – 1965 Gymnasium Frankfurt, final secondary-school

examinations to enter university

1965 – 1967 military service, Mannheim

1967 – 1972 studies of arts in Madrid

1972 – 1975 junior professorship in Arts at Durham University

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1975 – 1988 professor of Arts at Durham University

1977 – 1980 member of artists´ community nearby Durham, England

24th October 1980 charge against Georg Mayer due to personal injury

1st November 1980 married to Anna-Maria Lopez (aged 28) at Durham

Cathedral, England

1st January 1981 the Kappelhoff-Lopez‟s move out of the artists´ community

into a house in Durham

22nd May 1981 birth of their child named Carmen Kappelhoff-Lopez

15th May 1987 divorce from Anna-Maria Kappelhoff-Lopez

1st June 1987 residence: Frankfurt, Westendstraße 101

several trips to England to teach at Durham University till

24th Dec 1988 new residence: Madrid, (Huertas) Calle de Sta Maria 14

(close to the Museo del Prado)

restorer of sculptures and paintings for several museums

and churches and private clients

+ April 2009 death in Valladolid

Anna-Maria Lopez

* 21st October 1952 in Getafé/Madrid, Calle Nunez de Bilboa 21b

1957 – 1972 convent‟s school “Teresa de Avila”;

1972 -1977 studies of arts in Madrid

1977 – 1980 member of artists´ community nearby Durham, England

1st November 1980 married to Hans Kappelhoff (aged 34) at Durham

Cathedral, England

1st January 1981 the Kappelhoff-Lopez‟s move out of the artists´ community

into a house in Durham

22nd May 1981 birth of their child named Carmen Kappelhoff-Lopez

15th May 1987 divorce from Hans Kappelhoff

30th May 1987 Anna-Maria Lopez leaves England with her daughter

(aged 6) to return back to Spain

1st June 1987 residence: Getafé/Madrid, Calle Nunez de Bilboa 21b

from August 1987 several trips to Germany and England with her daughter

to enable meeting with child‟s father

64

It was already half past one in the morning when Carmen and Christopher finally fell

asleep.

- - -

Frank woke them up with a take-away coffee and croissant from the board bistro

telling them he would go to the bathrooms and wait for them at the exit door of their

wagon, just near the bathroom. “You‟ve to hurry up both. It‟s quarter past nine and

the train is going to arrive in Prague within the next 40 minutes. It‟s the terminal stop

the train conductor told me. I need to talk to both of you then urgently, so let‟s find a

quiet place somewhere before we start doing researches in Prague.” he just said

when he grasped for his already packed luggage and left the compartment. Carmen

was quick in getting dressed and maybe she had already packed her things at night

when she returned from the bathroom because when Christopher was still looking for

his things, she was ready to leave the compartment. “I‟ll wait for you together with

Franks near the exit.” She took her luggage, her coffee and croissant and left

Christopher throwing a hopeful glance at him. It was only some minutes later when

he got his staff together in order to leave and as he passed the bathroom he decided

to have a two-minutes-catlick. The door was not easy to open as somewhat

constricted the doorway. Only when Christopher pressed his shoulder against the

door and slowly pushed it, he was able to bonce into the small room.

There lied a corpse - another victim in that case that had been brutally murdered.

And Christopher who stared at it immediately recognized its position: It was placed

exactly like Maria Chamber‟s and Hans Kappelhoff´s. Christopher‟s stomach turned.

But this time it was Franks´ corpse.

He stepped back and looked around. “Carmen!” Christopher shouted and tried to

make his way through the lined-up crowd. “Carmen!” But as the train already was

getting into the station, he was surrounded by people waiting in the corridor to get off.

So he jumped several times in order to see Carmen‟s familiar head somewhere. He

didn‟t notice people looking at him somehow uncomfortably, somehow irritated as

Christopher tried to lurch through the crowd every time he touched the ground. He

looked around for Carmen, but he couldn‟t find her. “Where was she?”

However, he did not know what to do exactly as the train finally stopped at the station

and the masses got off the train taking him away. He jumped to look around for the

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last time and he realized that there was a man, whose face he knew from

somewhere. It was the same blonde man who had been snooping around his home

and spying on him before. It was the same blonde man who had been at the holy

Easter procession of Valladolid. It was the same blonde man who had been in the

train the three detectives were in.

Being pushed out the train, Christopher stood there at Prague station, ultimate

station, and was overcome with emotion.

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czech republic

Chapter 4

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“Carmen!” Christopher repeated her name again and again. He started to scream

loudly. People at the Prague station were looking at him like he was a fool. Some

teenagers were even laughing at him. But he did not care. Franks was dead. Carmen

was gone. He could only hope that she was alive. Are they going to kill him too? He

could not shake away the feeling of emptiness. He was alone there, in this

completely strange country. Everybody trusted him and he could feel the burden of

responsibility. How can he solve the brutal murder alone? How can he avenge his

friend‟s death? What about Carmen? What did they do to her?

“Carmen! Carmen! Can you hear me? Where are you! Carmen!” he shouted, now

completely out of his mind. The group of teenagers could go crazy with laughter. He

was dizzy, the ground beneath was moving like he was standing on tiny sea waves.

He knelt. His head looked up at the overcast sky full of dark clouds. The ground was

as cold as ice. The air was weirdly stale. There was a loud bang coming directly from

the canal Christopher was kneeling on. It was a bomb. A loud yelp was the last thing

Christopher could do. The high blast wave hurled him to the side. Fiery flames were

licking all the space around him. Nobody could do anything. The air still carried an

echo of the man who was weeping with pain and died so horribly.

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“Christopher! Wake up, man!” Franks quickly jumped to the opposite seat in a tiny

compartment, because he couldn‟t stand listening to Chris any longer. And he

thought that the rest of the train was thinking the same. He gave him a hard slap in

the face. Christopher blinked in the dim light of the bulb above the door.

“F ... Franks?” Christopher was surprised and could not find words. Where am I? Am

I in heaven? He was staring at the figure in front of him. The person was tall and

muscular, his hair resembling Franks‟s. It was similarly dishevelled and jet-black.

Frowning Franks was crouching in front of Chris, lips pressed into a narrow line.

“Are you okay my friend? Was that aspirin too strong?” asked Franks, now more

worried, doubting the effect of the painkiller.

“I ... I guess so. I'm sorry. I did not mean to wake you up. Where is Carmen?” When

Christopher said her name, his throat tightened. He remembered her disappearance.

He could not bear if something happened to her. It was impossible not to see her

face or touch her soft hand. He couldn‟t imagine life without her. He was thinking

about all the beautiful things they shared with Carmen. He never felt happier in his

life. And everything suddenly collapsed like a house of cards.

“She went to buy us a drink.” Franks deeply wanted to know what caused Chris´s

reticence and his worried face, but he thought that the explanation could wait until

morning. He did not intend to trouble his friend even more.

“I'm going to the toilet. You should try to sleep.” Chris heard Franks who gently

closed the door of the compartment. Christopher moved closer to the cool window. It

was pleasant refreshment for him. The compartment was quite overheated.

He looked out of the window. He was watching lighted billboards passing by. One of

them suddenly attracted his attention more than the others. There was an interesting

text written on it – Georg Mayer‟s unique exhibition moved from Prague to Brno! Do

not miss the opportunity to visit a lifelong exploration of the famous historian! Brno,

20th – 25th November, Spilberk Castle!

“Oh damn!” Christopher cursed. They had to change their plan immediately and

move from Prague to Brno. More time lost. More delays. Another murder? Chris

forbade himself to think like this.

Georg Mayer was a well educated German. His figure reminded walrus and his huge

moustache supported his credibility. Georg fairly cultivated his moustache and wore it

well-groomed. His high intelligence absolutely reduced his physical shortcomings. In

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addition to German he could speak English, French, Spanish and Czech. He

graduated in Art. He became a member of artists´ community nearby Durham with

Hans Kappelhoff and Anna-Maria Lopez almost immediately after graduation. He

remembered that period with mixed feelings. Within a few years he became the

owner of an art school for children and adults in Weinheim. He had no family or

relatives. He got a job offer from Prague and sold the building to the first credible

person. Then he departed and moved to the Czech Republic permanently, because

he was appointed the professor at the Charles University in Prague, the city famous

for its hundreds of towers.

Georg accomplished a lot during his long life. He travelled around different countries

of the world and examined archaeological excavations of more or less familiar

cultures. His hobby was researching old cave paintings that were thousand years old.

Unfortunately, one of his trips became his fate. He was with his team visiting the rest

of the Hittite empire in Turkey. The Hittites were great warriors, whose battles relied

on their lethal chariots. Georg wanted to explore any weapons left to bring them to

the university.

Younger fellow workers dug a large and deep hole, which finally broke down and a

very large war room appeared – a storehouse of weapons. Georg took a ladder and

went to explore the finding place. He hesitated for a while when the shaky ladder

touched the clay floor. It started to move from side to side and broke in a few

seconds. Georg Meyer‟s head touched an iron thing that looked like a miniature

battle tank. The pool of blood around the famous scientist was getting bigger and

bigger, Georg Mayer was dead.

A flash of morning sun woke Chris. He was lounging lazily on a heavy uncomfortable

blanket he got from the transport company.

“I booked Grandhotel Hotel. When are we leaving Prague?”

“I called the Student Agency. They told me that the bus leaves at 11.00 am.”

“We can have breakfast then.”

“Yes, I hope so.”

Once Christopher heard the familiar voices, he didn‟t doubt that he really must have

been a curious dream. It frightened him quite a lot. When he heard the voice of

Carmen, the feeling of happiness overwhelmed him.

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Christopher was thinking about the different texts found at the crime scenes while he

was dragging the luggage into the room with Franks. Carmen was staying in the

room on the opposite side of the corridor. All of them intended to start the

investigation but first they deserved to relax after a long journey. They didn‟t unpack

their luggage, because they didn‟t want to stay longer than necessary. The plan was

to visit the exhibition and leave. Maybe we will find something. Surely we will find

something.

They decided not to eat at the four-star hotel restaurant. They wanted to explore the

city centre and at six o'clock they were sitting in a pub drinking Czech traditional beer

Starobrno. The rumours the Czech

beer is the best in the world weren‟t far

from the truth. Christopher ordered

Czech traditional food – pork,

dumplings and cabbage. Franks had

fine brie cheese and Carmen ate

blueberry dumplings. Dumplings

seemed to permeate the entire menu.

All of them enjoyed the dinner and

went to bed early.

The next morning they had short breakfast together. Franks, Christopher and

Carmen were standing in front of the Spilberk Castle at nine o'clock. They wanted to

see Georg Mayer‟s exhibition. The recently reconstructed castle was rising above the

other buildings and was facing the monumental Cathedral of St. Peter and Paul on

the opposite hill.

”Hello. My name is David Suk and I will be your guide today. Let me show you this

fascinating exhibition...” a nice guide introduced himself to the visitors. He could be a

Catholic. A massive gold cross was hanging on his neck. The man was small and

looked young. Bright green eyes were hidden behind his glasses. His English was

very good and he was obviously obsessed with his work and eagerly explained the

slightest details. The exhibition was held in the spirit of excavations in Egypt,

Egyptian gods and skeletal remains. The guide had a good sense of humour. He

73

asked funny interesting questions during the exhibits. They spent almost three hours

at the castle and they were all tired at the end.

“Finally, fresh air.” Carmen gasped in front of the Spilberk Castle. “I do not know what

about you, but I didn‟t notice anything related to the murders.” Franks added. They

went to lunch because they were very hungry.

“Damn! Au! Man, are you normal?!” one of the many taxi drivers in Brno had a face

like this since his birth, as white as snow. He was small and thin, but very muscular.

Although it was nearly noon, there weren‟t many people in the streets this morning.

They didn‟t usually walk down this street. The taxi driver had his break, enjoying his

first cigarette of the day. No one noticed as the man in the hood tore the hunched

driver into the car trunk. He had a gag in his mouth, his feet were tied. Nobody had

the chance to help this innocent man. When the fake driver got in the taxi, he silently

backed out of a parking space and left.

The tree investigators were pensively looking through different piles of books in the

Jiri Mahen Library in Koblizna Street in the afternoon. They found no track or

74

anything suspicious of the exhibition. Something has to be in the books here! We

need to find out something! Christopher was encouraging himself.

They were going through the shelves full of English books for long hours. Franks

came across the English Bible. He took it and almost opened it, but he suddenly

heard Carmen‟s excited voice.

“Listen! If you cannot find the link, start from the beginning. Are the murders random

or chain? And at what places they happened? Are there any similarities? Do the

victims have anything in common? What about relationships, work or anything else?

What are the time intervals and ...”

“Hold it!” Chris stopped Carmen in the middle of the sentence.

“Recently I had a dream that someone killed Franks. Where was Maria killed? In a

church, which had already been covered with moss, but if you have noticed, the

colour under it seemed to be dark red, the colour of blood. Where was Hans killed?

The church had dark orange bricks that looked red in the sunlight. It„s possible that

my dream suggested something. We have to kneel and look down. I think someone

else will be killed in the church that is red. We have to go.”

Carmen and Franks looked at each other in a shock when Chris flew out from the

department for adults.

“What are you waiting for? Let's go!” Christopher shouted over his shoulder at his two

colleagues.

“Wait a minute, I will put the books on the

shelves at least...” Carmen said. She was not

sure about Christopher‟s theory. You could see

it in her face, she was very tired from the

investigation and walking on high heels all day

didn„t bring her much energy. When Carmen

finally caught up Franks and Chris in the

cloakroom at the library reception, she curiously

asked about their destination. Franks said that it

was the Evangelic Church of Jan Amos

Comenius – a beautiful red temple in Ceska

Street. They ran quickly out of the library, Franks heard hooping alarm, but he didn„t

pay much attention to it. He didn„t want to get lost in the busy streets of Brno.

75

The woman in the library had told them an easy way how to get to the church and

they were determined to reach it on foot. But they changed their mind. The taxi was

just passing by and stopped. The driver glanced at them and he spluttered in rather

awkward Czech: “Where, where to?” Carmen smiled at him sweetly and said, “Can

you speak English?” She had to force herself to raise her lips, because she was still

breathless. She noticed that the man was very thin, his tendons were stretching from

every bend of his pale skin and he stunk after sweat. It seemed as if he had been

fighting with a strong man just a moment ago. The driver‟s eyebrows slightly rumpled,

but they returned quickly to the same place.

“Yes. A little bit.” he said so fast that Franks didn„t even notice it. The driver was

talking to Carmen about the place they wanted to go. Christopher thought that the

taxi driver may have bruised his head. The man frequently asked Carmen for the

way, as if he didn‟t know the place. It seemed he didn‟t know Brno too much. A taxi

driver and he doesn„t know where he is going? This seems strange, thought Chris.

Franks sharpened his senses. He thought he heard flicking and banging from the

trunk. He was attentively eavesdropping on the sounds in the trunk while Carmen

was discussing with the strange man the way towards the Red Church and

Christopher was speculating about their difficult situation. He heard nothing. He

decided to believe that the sounds were coming from the streets. The situation wasn‟t

easy and he didn„t intend to complicate it with his imagination. He couldn„t get crazy.

He had promised Alistair that he would solve the murder and keep an eye on

Christopher. He would do anything to help him solve the crimes. But it was better to

do something than nothing. Will we solve the murders together with Carmen and

Christopher? Franks didn‟t know. The memory of the old friend Roberts made Franks

even sadder. He reminded Alistair‟s troubled face whenever he had been thinking

about something. He was thinking how Alistair would react in a similar situation.

Wow. Similar. But it was impossible to do it this time. This was Franks„s biggest case

since he had become a detective and that had been many years ago! Alistair would

certainly set up with his theory. Despair entered Franks‟s mind. His colleague always

knew what to do. Always. He was a great detective. Alistair wasn„t tall in fact, but his

exemplary and precise work increased his height every day. He was a unique

character in many ways. Franks had to fight off bad ideas, bringing back the death of

Alistair Roberts. He didn‟t want to think about the scene of sitting at the bedside of a

deadly sick friend. He was telling him everything that was happening at work during

76

the days when his friend was in hospital. And then the monotonous high tone of the

hospital device. His friend‟s heart stopped at once and Alistair closed his eyes

forever. He didn‟t see the tear-filled eyes of all the people who loved him.

Franks shook his head. He had to think about the situation. He knew that only if

Christopher had some of his father‟s abilities, they could win this battle. And all

seemed to indicate that his dream could come true. Franks has noticed a few

moments when Christopher was acting like his deceased father.

Finally, the taxi drove away. Carmen gasped loudly. She felt a sudden feeling of

relief, because she didn‟t have the strength to explain the way any longer. Her head

hurt and she didn´t know what to expect. Is Chris right? Isn‟t it just a figment of his

imagination?

As if it wasn‟t enough that the driver doesn´t know the way. He is driving so slowly

that even snails are faster. And the old man on crutches in the street seems to have

the speed of lightning.

Christopher was thinking something like this while sitting in an uncomfortably

pressure-tight taxi. He had nothing against slow pensioners, but his comparison was

pertinent at this moment. He crouched in the back seat between Carmen and Franks.

Christopher´s pulse was rapid and blood full of adrenaline was flowing in his veins.

He was anxious that he finally got something right. He had the opportunity to prove

Franks that he could be a good investigator. Chris rubbed his hands. They would be

at the same level at last.

It was almost five o'clock in the afternoon when the three investigators were standing

in Ceska Street in front of Jan Amos Comenius Church. The tiring taxi ride took about

an hour and all of them were significantly worn-out. The entrance to the church was

surrounded by police blocks. Christopher knew that it was bad. They came late.

Another innocent person had been killed.

The situation was so thrilling that Franks forgot the heavy object he was tightly

gripping in his right hand. Only a second later he realised that he was carrying the

Bible from the library. He lifted his head breathlessly. It was clear to him that he was

holding the next clue. He recalled the religious inscriptions that were found near the

77

first two dead bodies. <God giveth Life, God taketh it away.> was written near the

body of Maria Chambers. The message next to Hans Kappelhoff‟s body was clearer

for him – stay away from someone who has the power to kill, and the fear of death

won´t pursue you. Franks could hardly hide the curiosity about the new murder. Will

there be another sign? What will it say? Does Christopher have a good clue? What if

we are wasting our time in Brno? Georg Mayer‟s exhibition greatly disappointed

them, so they didn´t know what to do. Would we go our ways? Surely not!, Franks

sighed with disappointment when he wondered how many unanswered questions

were hidden in his heart.

Christopher, Carmen and Franks crossed the police blocks, explained the police who

they were and entered the church.

The interior of the church was cold at first sight, but when you came and looked

closer, not from the distance of the entrance, you could see light apricot colour. White

colour would look differently, this colour seemed oddly warm. The church was

spacious, huge columns were connecting a cool white marble floor with a high

ceiling. Large windows that illuminated the entire vast area were fully glazed.

Beautiful round chandeliers hanged several feet from the high ceiling. Everything was

built and decorated in the Gothic style. You could feel shivers running down your

spine.

78

A huge wooden cross appeared behind the place where the priest preached. A

sacrifice was hanging on the monumental cross. It was bound by both, solid thick

ropes and the unforgivable sin of someone who deserved the same he had done to

these poor people before their end. Christopher, Carmen and Franks approached the

mystery scene. They were shocked. The victim was the tourist guide they had met at

the castle the day before. They recognized his limpid green eyes. They were full of

fear, despair and helplessness. His face was covered with dried blood. A steel tip

was sticking out of his forehead. Several ropes protruded from his body. The place

looked as if there was a slaughterhouse. There was so much blood everywhere and

bloody words were scrawled in front of the cross <Who follows God, won´t walk in the

darkness but will have the light of life.> Carmen shook her head in disgust. One of

the victim‟s arms was supported by a rope, and the elbow was pointing towards the

top of the cross. Christopher stared at the horrific scene. So the murders are the

copies of the same pattern, he thought. Meanwhile Franks was standing nearby with

a policewoman who was there with two colleagues. They were investigating the

crime scene and Franks was loudly discussing something with the woman.

“We can talk about this tonight during dinner.” the detective said.

“We'll see. So you don‟t know anything so far?” Franks asked with interest.

“Well, only that the victim is David Suk. The documents say that he was 39 years old.

He devoted himself to art and history, he lectured at Spilberk Castle and he went to

church for worship and sang in the church choir. Wait, you said something about,

other murders? This murder is not the only one?” the brown-haired woman asked,

her English was surprisingly fluent.

“Maybe we can talk about it during the dinner as you suggested.” replied Franks. He

didn‟t want to explain the muddled situation in the church. There are certainly better

places where to chat. He was looking at the attractive woman who was standing right

in front of him. Her dark hair was pulled into a carefully torn bun, her eyes were

shining in the shade of gray-blue – one that he would recognize anywhere. He was

studying the shape of her face and came to a quite large birthmark on her neck. The

policewoman was very thin, her posture was somehow unusual but Franks was taken

with her. There was something on her that attracted him.

“Okay.” she said. “How about meeting at seven in the restaurant „U Kastelana‟ in

Kotlarska Street? The cuisine is fabulous there.”

“Okay. Seven o‟clock.” Franks‟s lips stretched out into a radiant smile.

79

A yellow taxi drove into a gloomy street.

“All according to the plan. Yeah. At seven five? Yeah. I‟ll find the way. Yeah.” a man

sharply mumbled to his mobile phone in a voice that somehow didn‟t fit his small

figure and young age. He sounded like an old spoilsport who sat in front of a football

match drinking his fifth beer.

“Boss, what should I do about the poor wretch?” the little man asked.

“Did he see your face?” the voice asked nervously.

“No.” the man lied. All his companions feared the boss. He didn‟t want to look scared

but he also didn‟t want to kill another innocent person. The man in the trunk was

more innocent than all the others. Well, at least the man‟s boss had said so.

“Throw him out of the car and beat him. Be sure he never says anything. Or I‟ll kill

you. Okay?”

“Yes.” The man shuddered in horror at the thought of ending up like them, like all

those people.

And he threatened the real taxi driver, untied his feet and hands from the grip of a

strong rope, he threw him into the muddy pool of water and went back to the car. He

could hear sobs of the man while shutting the car door. He didn‟t look back.

It was six o‟clock in the evening and Christopher with Carmen were sitting in her

room. They were going through the many photocopies they had printed in the library.

“Do you think everything is fine with Franks today? He has been acting strangely the

whole evening. He looks happy.” Carmen said.

“Hm. He has been running across his room since we came back from the Red

Church, talking to himself about a tie. He pulled his cologne water and I would bet

that the bottle is already empty.” Chris added.

Carmen just nodded. Both agreed that it was certainly because of the unusual police

officer they had met in the afternoon. Carmen wasn‟t sure about her feelings that

were changing quickly. She wanted to start laughing madly but she didn‟t want

Franks to feel ashamed. On the other hand, she was grateful for being left alone with

Chris.

At seven o'clock Alice was hurrying with her three companions to the restaurant “U

Kastelana” in Kotlarska Street. One of them was still breathless. He had to leave the

taxi a block of buildings away so that it didn‟t look suspiciously.

80

“Wait for me outside the restaurant. Hope that our plan works.”

“Sure, boss. Just stay calm. Every man unbends in your company.” the man tried to

be funny. They were speaking fluent English.

“Idiot.” Alice snapped, turned on her heel and walked into the restaurant.

Franks had been already waiting.

Alice entered the renowned restaurant which was comfortably illuminated. A young

lady ran to her and spoke Czech. Alice didn‟t catch a word. She understood that the

woman wanted to hang her coat. She explained that her Czech wasn‟t very well and

asked if they could speak English. She walked into a room full of beautifully set round

tables and saw Franks. He slowly stood up and moved across the room to help Alice

to take a chair. When they came to the table in a cosy corner of the luxurious room,

Franks offered the charming lady a chair. They ordered mineral water and quality

Moravian wine from the wine list – „Modry Portugal 2001‟.

“I am sorry but I have to go to the bathroom.” Franks apologized, already slightly

dazed by the delicious red wine.

“Sure, I'll wait here for you,” Alice winked playfully.

Finally, I thought you would never go, she added in her mind.

While Franks was looking for men's toilets, Alice put a narcotic powder into his glass

of wine.

So..., this should be enough, the woman hummed to herself. Alice was happy that

her plan was working.

81

In the meantime Chris and Carmen were drinking red wine in Grand Hotel.

They were sitting at a newly reconstructed conference table, whose colour reminded

a sea storm. You could see the folds of the cut wood with a bit of clear dark blue.

At first glance, the room was anxiously cold. But when you got used to it, you could

see a room full the colour of the magnificent sky where clouds were floating above

the waves of rough ocean waves.

A massive canopy bed dominated the perfect scenery.

There was a soft veiling at the top of the bed with

matching sheets.

A beautiful crystal chandelier consisting of thousands

of small miniature glass pieces hang gently from the

ceiling. When you switched it on you hoped it wouldn‟t

start swinging and fall down on the thin fringe carpet.

The whole room was light blue and the windows were

facing an abstract silver-purple ornament representing

an unknown animal. It looked so real. As if the artist who created that wanted you to

spend hours and hours by figuring out his intention.

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“Did you find out anything?” Chris asked, his eyes fixed on the materials on the

murders.

“No, nothing new.” Carmen whispered. She could feel the strength of the tasty wine.

She caught Chris´s hand and her lips were getting closer to his lips. He didn´t hold

back.

“Put him down here.” Alice commanded the three who were drugging dazed Franks

to an isolated park.

She pulled down the wig. The blond hair was shining in a gentle gust of wind. She

drew two pairs of brown socks out of her bra.

“At last! He was looking at my boobs all the time.” the blond guy spitted out.

“But you did a good job, boss. Do you know everything?” another man asked

worriedly.

“Otherwise we would not probably be here, right? Idiot.”

The fat guy stepped away. He didn´t want to argue with his boss.

“Alice. Alice. Aaaliiice...” Franks rattled on a cold bench.

“Shut up! I cannot listen to you anymore.” the blonde man added disgustedly.

Franks felt someone putting a smelly cloth into his mouth. He felt sick. He was

hoping it wasn‟t the blonde´s sock. What did they do to him?

“Yes boss, the plane takes off at three o'clock in the afternoon from the Prague

Airport and it lands in Amsterdam at 4.30 pm.” the fake taxi driver added.

Christopher was standing at Frank´s bed next morning. Franks was wearing

yesterday's clothes and his shoes still on. He stank. It seemed as if he had been

rolling in the mud that dried on him during the night. He was quite sure this wasn‟t the

restaurant where he had met Alice yesterday evening.

“Franks! Wake up!” Chris patted Franks on his shoulder.

“Eh? Hm?” the investigator mumbled.

“Well, you have to tell me, what happened yesterday. Who did this to you?” Chris

asked worriedly.

“My head, ouch.” Franks sat on the bed clumsily.

“I was in the restaurant, I think. Then I remember a bench, a gag in my mouth, a flight

to Amsterdam at three o´clock and someone's harsh hateful voice.”

“A flight to Amsterdam? Today?”

83

“Well... then I saw a blonde man running away. Are there any painkillers? I guess

that the blonde guy put something into my drink.” Franks added. When he

remembered that he had spent the entire evening in the presence of a man who had

been shooting love glances at him, he wanted to run far away. He needed a place

where nobody could find him. I‟m a strong man, I have to hold on! he encouraged

himself and forced himself to forget yesterday‟s embarrassment.

“Sure. However, if it was the blonde guy... we have to book a flight to Amsterdam.

Now.” Chris was thinking aloud.

Chris ran to Carmen. He explained everything to her. She quickly kissed him on the

cheek.

“Do not worry, it will be all right.” she calmed him down.

Nothing will be all right... The next flight leaves at eight o'clock in the evening, Chris

got the information on the telephone a minute ago.

“Chris...” she said. “If the police were wrong, we have to tell the Czech investigators

what we know.”

“I didn´t think about that. Can you call them?”

“Okay.” Carmen promised and Christopher went to pack his and Franks‟s stuff.

Franks was still recovering from his hangover.

Franks packed the Bible from the library. He was sure he would find something in it.

He was holding a small backpack with many pockets, the thick Bible was in his

luggage. He had to keep an eye on it. He had something precious what may become

the solution of everything. I really need to get started, Franks was planning his next

steps.

The trinity of investigators was sitting in silence. They just occasionally uttered some

words. They all felt bad, they were leaving a foreign country without a conclusion.

None of them could sleep while the ground was disappearing under the plane.

Nothing could be solved. Among so many people. They were desperate. They did not

know when there would be another murder. Why the Netherlands? Just a transfer

station? How would they know? What if they are too late? Nobody knew how long

they would twist in this circle of several murders and how many more sins would this

gang commit in the name of God.

84

But at least they knew who they were seeking. The whole case became even more

personal than before because of the last night experience. No doubt that the blonde

knew something, some important information they needed. They were determined to

continue their investigation.

85

netherlands

Chapter 5

86

87

It had been a long journey. Now, the two detectives and Carmen were sitting laid

back in the wooden chairs on a terrace at the Old Harbour. Luckily, the summer sun

and relaxed ambience was healing the stressful experiences of airports, country-

hopping and travelling. Among the rumouring buzz of the passengers, the three

musketeers drank their glasses of Heineken. After a while in silence, enjoying the

moment, Carmen remarked: ‟Guys, I want to discuss the next step we will take. We

have been travelling, with no success, again. I want strategy and clarity. I don‟t want

to go home empty-handed again.‟ Christopher and Franks were surprised. They

didn‟t expect such a sermon.

„I don‟t want to hurt you Carmen, but I don‟t feel that you‟re very motivated. If the

drive is gone, then just stop.‟ says Franks in an irritated way. Christopher takes a

deep breath. Since the flight to Amsterdam, his two mates have seemed to dislike

each other. It could actually be smart to give Carmen a rest in this journey, but how

will he say that, without hurting her?

He must not insult her, otherwise, there will be no chance for a romance with her

anymore.

„Carmen? Wouldn‟t it be nice for you to quit with the investigation for a while? Just

enjoy the summer here in Rotterdam. You‟ll have such a nice time here, visiting

buildings and…. .‟

„Excuse me?! Are you suggesting that I‟m not functioning well? That I‟m not doing my

job well enough? I‟ve been such a support for you! You just can‟t handle it without

me!‟

Christopher and Franks look at each other as if they have a secret together.

Unfortunately, however, the strategy to keep Carmen calm, probably failed. Franks

keeps trying helplessly to save the situation. „Carmen, you know that we don‟t mean

it as bad as it sounds. We worry about you, because it‟s such an emotional thing for

you.‟

„Fine, I‟m already leaving. You won‟t have to worry about me anymore. Bye.‟

And Carmen left. What is she going to do? You could see the anxiety on

Christopher‟s face. „Don‟t worry; she‟ll come around.” Franks pats Christopher

encouragingly on the back.

Suddenly, Christopher‟s phone rings. It‟s very inconvenient right now, and hardly

anybody has his number, so the men are surprised. Christopher picks up the phone,

while Franks orders another drink. All of a sudden, Christopher‟s face turns pale.

88

Franks reacts with a concerned frown: „What‟s the matter?‟ „Listen to this!‟, hisses

Christopher, and he puts the mobile phone in his hands. With a hurry, Franks puts

the phone to his ear. Tropical music sounds in the background. It‟s partymusic with a

glow of summer. Besides that there are the sounds of hundreds of thousands of

people. And then the clue: the heartbreaking scream. It sounds so loud, that Franks

looks around if other people can hear it as well. After the sound of the scream has

disappeared, a mystery man starts talking. With his young but hoarse voice he

whispers: „Destiny is in your hands…..‟

„Huh? Destiny is in your hands? What the hell is the meaning of that?‟: asks Franks

to Christopher. „I‟ve no idea,‟ is his answer, „but the most important thing to find out

is, that we know where this guy called from. This could be our killer.‟

None of them has any idea where this music comes from. They decide to ask the

waitress for help. Without having a doubt, she knows the answer: „Music with a

tropical sound? You must mean the Summer Carnaval! Accidentally it‟s happening

right now, at the Karel Doormanstraat in the centre of the city.‟ She explains: „Every

year, a woman is appointed as Miss Carnaval. It‟s really a must!‟ Before the waitress

was able to finish her story, the detectives had already risen and taken their coats.

„Thanks a lot!‟ they called at her. Puffing and gasping for breath, Franks follows the

footsteps of Christopher. He feels as if he can‟t go on. Christopher‟s condition is way

better than his.

While running, Franks‟ thoughts continued: the voice coming from the telephone was

absolutely not one of the suspects. Neither was it Georg Mayer‟s. Had they been on

the wrong track all this time or had they been chasing red herrings?

It had been a difficult day for Bing. He had just returned from his journey from the

Czech Republic. Nobody knew what he had done back there, but that was for the

best. He decided to call the love of his life. It was a long conversation but the only

thing Bing could think of was seeing Lorena in real. He asked her if it would suit her if

he stopped by. Lorena told him it couldn‟t happen at her place and Bing thought it

was too common to go to his own house. Such a woman as Lorena had to be taken

to a special place. He decided to rent the honeymoon suite in the Hilton hotel so they

could spent a wonderful night. There had been such nights before but this night had

to be the best of all. Lorena told him she had to make an excuse to Jack but as usual

she would succeed. She had become an expert in deceiving her husband.

89

The unusual chaos made clear something bad had happened here. People

screaming, yelling and panicking. After they had worked their way through the crowd

Christopher and Franks saw it right away. Miss Carnaval was dead, as dead as a

doornail. The finest float of the whole pageant with lots of feathers and various

colours was standing still. At the front the body of a woman was hanging, Miss

Carnaval. All dressed up but as dead as could be. Blood was dripping from her dress

and her head was hanging in a rather awkward position. Dexterously Christopher

grabbed his badge, „Everybody move, police, out of my way!‟, he yelled. Immediately

the people made way and they could get a good look at the float. Next to Miss

Carnaval on the float he saw a burned Bible. „This has been done by our murderer,‟

Franks whispered. He was as white as a sheet. Christopher looked at the key

hanging around the woman‟s neck. Could it be connected to the murder?

Carefully he removed it and put it into his pocket without anyone noticing.

The sirens of the police cars came closer and closer. They hadn‟t been in Rotterdam

more than a day and the investigation was up and running.

The Rotterdam police arrived soon at the crime scene. Christopher and Franks tried

to explain everything as calmly as they could. They expected to be dealing with

“their” murderer again. The Dutch police were pleased with their cooperation

because they had been involved in the case from the very first murder.

Carmen spent the whole night in the hotel. She had been to the sauna and the

swimming pool. It felt ever good to her, finally, she had calmed down. When

Christopher and Franks came home, she said that she understood their point of view.

She would take a little rest. Christopher and Franks breathed a sigh of relief.

That night the three of them were going to grab a bite and next catch a movie. The

next day the investigation would proceed again. “Carmen looks beautiful” Christopher

thought. He wanted to tell in real, but the glance in Carmen‟s eyes said enough. She

had read his mind. The night passed off quietly. The three of them had decided not to

talk of the murder. “Only happy and cheerful subjects” Franks decided. After a great

meal the detectives went to Cinerama, in the centre of Rotterdam. It was quiet, too

quiet for a Saturday night. “The movie isn‟t that popular, I suppose” Carmen said.

The lights dimmed and the movie began. After half an hour, the three of them were

sit ting drowsily in the hall. They had never seen such a boring movie. When

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Christopher almost fell asleep, the movie stopped suddenly and gave way to a dreary

silence in complete darkness. Then a film began to play. Christopher was looking at

Franks. Both were thinking the same thing. The murderer is on the move.

In the film they see a little baby, floating on a lake or ditch. The children‟s song was

playing in the background. Then again, there is a nasty voice. The creaky,

mysterious voice, which says: „Destiny is in your hands…‟ The film stops playing and

as if nothing has happened, the real movie starts to play again. After the movie, the

detectives are still sitting there staring in front of them with dismayed faces.

They met each other at 8 o‟clock at the entrance. When Bing saw Lorena, his heart

missed the beat. What a wonderful woman! He ran to her and kept embracing her.

He was thinking: „I‟ll never let her go!‟ But he knew he couldn‟t do it because of his

friend. Jack and Bing had been friends ever since they met at primary school. They

were never torn apart. But he was always jealous of Jack because of Lorena. The

woman he had adored since the first class. They went inside, with the elevator and

straight to the room. In the elevator, they couldn‟t stop touching. But when they were

in their own room, there was no restraint at all. „What a beautiful room‟, managed

Lorena to say. Then they fell on to the bed…

„Tonight everybody retires to his room. We will have to think everything over again.

Carmen, you can sleep in tomorrow, if you want. Christopher and I will go on

discovery‟, says Franks in a determined voice.

The next morning, the detectives wake up early. They don‟t want to lose even a

second to find the place where the movie was made. Perhaps, the baby is still there?

Perhaps, he could find a trace of the murderer?

Yesterday evening Christopher couldn‟t sleep. He marked all the places where he

could find water near a forest. They start at the Kralingse Bos, because that must be

the most likely place.

When the two arrived at the forest, they started questioning passers-by. Nobody had

seen a baby. Then Christopher walked to a tramp. An older man, who had probably

been sitting here for days In a loud, calm tone Christopher asked him: „Have you

seen a baby here, floating on the water?‟

The tramp was remarkably bright. Definitely not unapproachable or difficult to

understand. He had a very healthy voice.

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„You don‟t have to speak that loud, kid. But I saw indeed a very weird figure walking

with a child yesterday. He walked to that side‟, the man pointed. Christopher has

already gone. He runs into the direction which the tramp pointed to him. While he‟s

walking, he searches every ditch or lake. Yes, there, inconspicuous in the water, in a

little basket!

„Franks, come here!‟ he shouts. Christopher lifts up the little cradle and looks

carefully inside. A baby, very healthy, is looking at him. He or she is packed in warm

blankets and there is even a little bottle with him or her. That‟s strange. The murderer

wasn‟t intending to do harm. Christopher is melting. What a sweet little baby, all

alone in the water. Carmen wouldn‟t mind babysitting for a few days. Tonight he

would call child care. Then he saw an envelope, carefully pinned to the jersey the

child was wearing. He opened the envelope and looked. To his surprise, it was a little

poem.

After a hot wild night the two lovers were exhausted. Lorena was sleeping heavily

while Bing was watching her. He enjoyed looking at her. Everything about her was

beautiful: her face, her breasts, her bottom, her legs. To him she was the perfect

woman. The only drawback was that she had already been claimed and not just by

anybody, but by Jack, his best friend. To Bing fidelity was the most important thing in

a relationship, supported by the Bible. This, however, was the exception to a golden

rule. Lorena was the world to him, so something unexpected was bound to happen to

make her leave Jack. Something that would change their entire existence.

Bing phoned room service and ordered a meal. First they enjoyed it and for dessert

each other. And they knew they had to hurry, otherwise Jack would find out. They

discussed a repeat performance, ASAP. Then they had to say goodbye for at least a

month because both had demanding jobs and as usually Lorena was going to do her

thing for the Rotterdam Summer Carnival.

Christopher took the envelope from the nightstand again and opened it, just as he

had done many times during the past few days. Carmen walked into their room in the

H2Otel. She really liked this place and considered it a typically Dutch thing to have a

boat as a hotel. She wanted to comment on it to Christopher, but he hadn‟t even

noticed her entering his bedroom as he was completely focused on the mind-

boggling poem. Again and again he recited it aloud:

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The baby is part of a fight

Between love, envy and hate

She hopes she will be kept safe

From the all consuming wave

Of Saint Elizabeth.

Her smile is sweet and wide

While villagers stand aside

Courage overcomes death

Cowardice kills your breath

“Why on earth are you interested in poetry belonging to the Dutch cultural

inheritance? Carmen asks curiously.

With great frustration because he hasn‟t been able yet to make head or tail of the

poem he turns to her and yells: “What do you mean with Dutch cultural inheritance?

This has nothing to do with culture, whatever. This bloody poem is a message from

the killer!”

Carmen frowns: “O, sorry. Don‟t bite my head off! I only thought you were mumbling

something about Kinderdijk.”

Christopher jumps from the bed and grabs her arms: “What‟s that again?

Kindersomething? How come you have heard of that and how does it fit in? Tell me!”

Carmen is astonished at his vehement reaction, but she is pleased that she may be

of some use again. The past few days she had felt so useless trying to unwind by

reading books about Dutch folklore. And now it turns out that her newly required

knowledge will come in handy after all, so she starts to explain.

„The Kinderdijk‟ (the Children‟s Dyke). There is a story, that in 1421 a child was found

after the enormous St. Elisabeth flood. After the wild storm, the villagers went to

„Kinderdijk‟ to look at the damage. They saw a little kid in a cradle floating on the

water. Nobody expected the kid to be alive, but when the people scooped the cradle

out of the water, the kid was perfectly healthy. She was saved by a cat, which was

also in the cradle.

During the storm this cat made sure that the cradle stayed balanced, by walking from

one side to the other. He risked his own life for the child, just as a loving father and

mother would do. A beautiful story, if you asked me.

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Christopher couldn‟t believe it, all the time he hadn‟t seen through this. He hadn‟t

realised it could be a legend. Everything pointed to having to go to the „Kinderdijk‟.

The weird shape of the key that he had looked at several times was that of a sail of a

mill. The key and the poem also pointed to „Kinderdijk‟. The search could continue.

„You are a genius, Carmen‟, he said. And when Christopher gave her a heartfelt kiss

on her cheek, she blushed.

A month later when they saw each other again it looked as if they had never split up.

It felt so good, the passion was back. They decided to have dinner and they went by

water taxi to hotel New York, named this way because the building used to be the

headquarters of the famous Holland – America shipping line. The food was lovely

and as a real gentleman, Bing paid the bill. They also decided to take a beautiful walk

along the „Maas‟.

Lorena‟s feet were hurting because of the beautiful Chanel shoes she was wearing

(she only does that for special occasions). Jack found it weird when he saw Lorena

wear the special shoes, because she had said she would go out with her friends.

This time they didn‟t go to the Hilton hotel but just to Bing‟s house. The house wasn‟t

big, but big enough to live there with a family.

She had been there several times, because a lot of parties took place in Bing‟s

house. They went to the bedroom where Bing‟s suitcase was still packed.

„Should I clean your clothes?‟ Bing had said no, because he didn‟t want Lorena to

see what is in his suitcase. But a few minutes later she didn‟t even think about it. She

only could think about Bing and her.

Bing thought that Lorena was acting differently from normal, though. Bing had

noticed it the whole evening but thought it would go away when they were in his

house but it didn‟t. Suddenly she started to cry. „Loreen, what is wrong?‟

After Carmen‟s golden hint (apparently she wasn‟t dispensable), Christopher had

knocked at Frank‟s hotel room right away. Together they rented a taxi and drove to

the famous „Kinderdijk‟. On their way they crossed “The Swan”, the famous modern

bridge across the river Maas. The taxi driver told them that the official name was

Erasmus bridge, but Dutch people preferred nicknames.

When they arrived at their destination there was a mysterious mist. It was also

suspiciously quiet. Probably because it was Sunday. On Sunday it is always very

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quiet in „Kinderdijk‟. Christopher held the key, which had the shape of a sail, in his

hand. That key could be the way to an answer to him. It couldn‟t be a coincidence

that everything could fit as the pieces of a puzzle.

Franks was very quiet during the taxi drive. By his frowned forehead Christopher

could see that he was thinking very hard. The taxi stopped and the detectives got

out. The taxi drove away…

There they stood, in front of nineteen mills. Each mill had a front door with a keyhole

in it. „This is impossible,„ Franks thought. Nineteen keyholes, which we will all have to

try. Without any idea of which mill to pick, they were going to try the key in every

single keyhole. „‟ Please let it fit,‟ said Franks hopefully when trying the first one.. But

unfortunately it did not. In the thickening fog, the two men walked to the second mill.

The enthusiasm for finding anything, whatever, was fading away. The two realised

that they had no idea of what they were looking for.

The murderer had them completely in his power; Franks and Christopher did the only

thing they could at that moment. Listening to and following the hints the murderer

gave them. „We look like some silly dogs,‟‟ Christopher moaned. Unfortunately, the

key did not fit in the second mill. Neither in the third. Suddenly, Christopher heard a

sound in the distance. It was a strange freaky sound.

„Did you hear that? I heard something in the distance,„ he asked Franks.

„‟Yes I did, but probably it is nothing significant‟. Maybe a cow or something,„‟ Franks

chuckled. Christopher agreed and they walked further. When they arrived at the fifth

mill, the sound became louder. Even Franks was convinced that something was

wrong, „I think it‟s caused by something over there?‟ He pointed to the sixth mill.

Then Franks noticed over there,no matter how horrifying a sound it may produce, a

man was hanging on one of the sails. Dashing like mad, Christopher rushed to the

mill. They had to save him. As usual, Franks tried to keep up with Christopher,who is

way faster.

And Franks was not able to believe it. He had never seen anything as horrifying as

this. Who on earth can do this to someone? Once they arrived at the mill, Christopher

quickly got the key out of his pocket. Nervously he tried to open the lock. After some

fiddling the door opened. Meanwhile Franks arrived, exhausted. Christopher didn‟t

care about the fact that his partner could not keep up with him. There was no doubt;

he had to save this man. Already too many innocent people had been killed. Quickly

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he ran the stairs. The door to the balcony was still opened. The hapless victim was

dead, Christopher noticed after he had checked his heartbeat.

“ What is the matter with someone if he has something this terrible to answer for?”

Franks wondered. Christopher shrugged his shoulders. He just wanted to let go off

the victim‟s pulse, when he noticed something remarkable. Words were written down

the victim‟s arm in blood. Franks came to stand next to him and tried to make out the

handwriting. It was shivery and untidy. Franks could easily see what was written,

though he started to look a little pale. “Destiny is in your ….” Christopher guessed.

“No, that is not necessary anymore. The blood is coming out of the man‟s hand,

through the hole caused by the nails. „Hands‟ need not be written anymore.” Franks

noticed.

Both detectives were quiet for some minutes caused by the shock and regret for not

having been able to prevent this murder.

Then she told Bing: “ Do you remember the wonderful night in The Hilton Hotel? We

made love without a condom. Ever since then I haven‟t had my period. Yesterday I

did a pregnancy test and the test came out positive. And you know Jack is infertile.

Bing, what shall we do?”

Suddenly all kind of things were crossing his mind. Bing knew this was a wrong

though. But this was the thing he had hoped for. But he knew Lorena wouldn‟t like

that. So he had to act normal. He must not show his happiness and convince Lorena

to leave Jack, so she would live with him and their child. He saw that Lorena was

very confused. “What do you want now? You know you can live with me. Besides, it

is our child.”

Lorena didn‟t want an abortion, but she still loved Jack so much, she couldn‟t hurt

him like that. Jack would love to have a child of his own.

Bing had completely different thoughts about that. It was their child! And they were

very much in love as well.

Eventually they ended up in a big fight with a lot of blaming each other. Bing got a

furious with Lorena and Lorena screamed: “ I should never have started this affair, it

wasn‟t worth it.”

Bing wasn‟t able to control himself: “What do you want then? Do I have to kill you

too…?”

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Christopher was the one who took the first step to say something: “Lets go

downstairs and ask for back up. From now on we cannot handle this by ourselves

anymore. It‟s getting too dangerous.” He took a step backwards. His attention was

caught by a soft grinding sound underneath his foot. He looked down, it was an

envelope. Franks was looking expectantly. After exchanging some looks with each

other, Christopher grabbed the envelope and opened it. When he opened the letter

that was inside the envelope, he could not believe his eyes; it was a letter from the

killer. That is impossible. Full of surprise he read the letter out loud.

To the ones who tried to understand my actions and motives,

This is a surprise right, receiving a letter from a serial killer?

I have created shocking views, unsolvable riddles and worries.

With this letter I would like to tell you what I thought, when I was acting like a monster

and a horror creature. I would like to make clear why I was so stupid as to kill those

near and dear to me and with that I broke one of the most important rules out of the

bible.

All of the excuses in this letter will not reduce my guilt, but I just have to tell my story.

At this point I don‟t know another way to do that, than this one.

To clear up my story I think it‟s useful to start with Lorena.

Lorena was the most beautiful woman I have ever seen. She was different, more

special, more beautiful than the rest. When she laughed she had dimples in her

cheeks. Her hair lay as golden strings over her shoulders. Her eyes as blue as the

sea knew no harm. With everything she did she moved like an angel, light and

gentle. The happiest moment of my life was when it appeared that she was attracted

to me too. We shared romantic nights and had the time of our lives. There was only

one problem: Jack. The traitor, the jerk, but also my best friend and her husband.

After approximately sharing my love with Lorena for a year, she decided to go back

to her husband. She still loved him very much, she said. Pretty understandable if she

hadn‟t been pregnant by me. She was carrying my child, my dream in her body. I was

going crazy I turned nuts and yelled at her that I was going to kill her. Because ye…

The murders before were also done by me of course. But then together with the third

man of our group of friends, John.

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Me, Jack and John have never been apart. The biggest mistake of my life was the

impulse to tell it too Lorena. She was capable of ruining my whole life and she did.

She kept the child away from me and not only the child but she told the whole story

to Jack too. John denied everything and in some way they believed him. The three of

them carried on being friends and the child of me and Lorena, Destiny, grew up with

Jack as a father. My heart was broken. The light of my life, my baby, was taken away

from me without me being able to enjoy her. The anger that this brought into me,

made me do the most terrible deeds ever. I wouldn‟t let them walk all over me. I had

a plan; one day my child and I would lead our lives without being disturbed. I decided

to kill Lorena, known as miss Carnaval. It was with pain in my heart, because despite

everything I still loved her, but she had already caused enough trouble. The only

thing I could do at the same time was keeping Jack prisoner in order to kill him later

on. He changed from being my best friend, into being the biggest traitor and the most

hated person in my life. We couldn‟t speak of friendship anymore.

Meanwhile I was taking good care of my child, however doubt hit me. Jack had to

die, that was clear. But will I, as a murderer, be able to take good care of my child

after that? I doubted that. I wanted a good life for my child in a dependable family.

Every family, except Jack‟s and Lorena‟s.

I decided that you should find the child because you could probably offer good care.

After abandoning my child with a lot of pain I started to kill Jack. He kept asking me

questions about his child wife. It was maddening again and again. He kept nagging

about his life and that we could still become friends. He kept moaning that everything

was going to be alright. That he will search for a solution. Cream puff. I decided to

murder him here, deserted and lonely. I didn‟t wish a peaceful death for him.

Now I owe you an explanation about the previous murders. The murders committed

by me and my best friend. By me and John. John and I are both very religious. We

murdered people who had been unfaithful. Anyway being unfaithful was of course

one of the worst things a person can do according to God.

Everything began with a friend of ours, Maria Chambers, who was having an affair

with Hans Kappelhoff. Indeed, Christopher, the father of your girlfriend. She had to

be punished! It took a couple of years, but finally we murdered him too. And after two

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murders, we were not afraid anymore. We couldn‟t be stopped. We murdered in

churches, so that victims (always unfaithful people, who have done something

wrong) should be confronted with their infidelity. The church was, and is, for us

indeed the sign of trust. Also we always put texts from the Bible at the dead bodies. I

know it is bad, because I myself let Lorena have an affair with me, while Jack was

one of my best friends, but Lorena was different, Lorena was an exception. When the

relationship began between me and Lorena, actually I wanted to stop murdering. But

when I was betrayed by all three of them, I had no other options. They had to die.

Indeed I couldn‟t count on them any longer.

However, now Jack is dead, the fear hit me. What have I done?! I feel the blood

sticking to my hands. I feel so dirty. I regret my deeds. I know it doesn‟t take away my

guilt, because that is not possible anymore. I don‟t deserve to live anymore. You will

find me in the water here by the dyke. I will burn myself with petrol and after that I will

be sure that I will drown. That will be my destination.

I want to thank you for reading my lifestory. However sneaky it may be. My voice

doesn‟t deserve to be listened to. Taking care of my child Destiny is the only thing I

ask of you. I have acted stupidly but all I did, I did for her. Please see to it that I

haven‟t taken all the trouble for nothing. Take care of my child, because Destiny is in

your hands...

With tears in her eyes Carmen read the letter in her room once more. All events in it

had flashed like a fascinating movie in her mind.

Christopher and Franks were nowhere in sight today. Most likely they had found a

nice pub in the Witte de Witstraat pondering the entire sequence of events. A few

days ago the case had been rounded off with the discovery of Bing‟s badly burnt

body floating in the river Maas. Right now the forensic team and the pathologist were

having a field day.

Carmen had not been able to take it all in, as she was still very emotional about the

disclosures The silence was very welcome for now she could really weigh it all in her

mind.

Meanwhile Christopher and Franks had indeed found their pub in the Witte de

Witstraat. They also needed the time to unwind. They were happy the unusual had

been solved. No more enigmas and no more unlikely theories. And Christopher knew

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his father could be proud of him again. They were quietly sipping their Heineken

beers, when suddenly Christopher‟s cellphone rang. “I really must answer it because

I think it is Carmen”. However the grumpy voice he heard was not Carmen‟s, but

belonged to a policewoman.

“Is that detective Roberts speaking?” she asked.

“Speaking. What can I do for you?” was his answer.

The woman started to explain:” The burnt body you said belonged to this serial killer

Bing has been identified. I am afraid it is not the person you thought it was. It has

been identified as John Sanders, Bing‟s former helpmate”.

Christopher froze on the spot. He ended the call and turned to Franks with a ale

shocked face: “Franks, our killer is still alive somewhere out there…………….”.

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germany

Chapter 6

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The three detectives stayed another night at the hotel. In the morning Christopher

woke up and he didn‟t see Carmen and the baby next to him. He thought Carmen

was going to have breakfast with the baby. So he went to the bathroom, had a

shower and put on his clothes. Meanwhile Carmen was downstairs and had

breakfast when suddenly her mobile phone rang.

“Carmen Lopez speaking.” – “Why?” - “What‟s in London? I don‟t want to go back to

this city.”- “No, it‟s just that I feel bad about going there.” – “London -

Heathrow, okay.” – “Flight 9871 British Airways, destination Havana, okay. “

When Franks and Christopher appeared in the breakfast room, Carmen hung up the

phone immediately: „Hey darling”, Christopher said, “did you sleep well?” and with a

smile he turned to the baby next to her. “No, not at all,” Carmen replied nervously. “I

have an uncertain feeling. I think we have to go back to London. Somehow I feel we

will find the murderer there.”

Christopher looked at Franks:” I think it‟s a good idea to enjoy breakfast first. What

about you, Franks?” He happily agreed to Christopher‟s suggestion as he felt

strongly to have a good strong coffee because he couldn‟t cope that easily any

longer in his age with nights at the bar.

They all sat together, talking to each other and had a little council about what to do.

Having thought that their weird and brutal case finally had been solved, they again

had to face hunting Bing, the murderer. Still, they were feeling they were very close

to closing the file. Bing had left too many traces and the net was constantly closing

around him.

All did start in England and after having travelled around in Europe trying to find

traces in order to catch the serial murderer Carmen succeeded in persuading the

other detectives to return to the original crime scene, Durham, England. They all

packed their suitcases. Carmen took loving care of the little baby and organised the

booking of the tickets from Amsterdam to London and the connecting flight to

Newcastle while Christopher and Franks checked out, and called a taxi taking them

to the airport. Having arrived at the airport, they directly went to the check-in and

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from there to the gate. “I‟ll go to the toilet before we‟ll take off“, Carmen informed the

two detectives. She handed over the baby to Christopher and gave him a quick

glance who in return smiled back tenderly at her and before she disappeared behind

the door.

When she returned Carmen could see Christopher making funny faces at the baby

and talking to it with blabbering sounds that somehow made even sense to her. She

could feel a warm sensation coming up in her as she watched both of them and felt

her love for this man even stronger than ever before. A bit surprised of this new

experience, she approached the three. “Here she comes, let‟s go.” Franks said

picking up the hand luggage and heading to the desk counter where a nicely smiling

blond Dutch flight assistant already was waiting to check their boarding cards.

Before Christopher, Carmen and the baby followed him, Christopher embraced her

all of a sudden “Isn‟t the child cute? I love you, Carmen; you are the best thing that

ever has happened in my life.” Carmen noticed this special glance in Christopher‟s

eyes, the one of a different kind of love you have when a child has conquered your

heart and you feel to have a family.

“I love you too, Christopher” she tenderly whispered while she thought “Why not start

a new life – with the baby… and him!”

Carmen and Christopher sat in the third row with the baby on their lap. Franks had a

seat in the second last row because there were no more seats on the plane so all of

them could have sat next to each other.

As soon as the plane took off the usual ritual of flight assistants pushing and pulling

around their trolleys with food and drinks started. Cake and coffee was served and

the little family in the third row enjoyed their little intimate pause holding hand,

touching and caressing and smiling a lot at each other. It was a joyful sight to see the

loving harmony between them which slowly spread around to the people sitting close

to them. One could feel this fulfilling atmosphere of love as soon as he or she

approached them.

This was the reason why Franks stayed at his seat. He already had noticed that

Christopher was discovering a tiny little love towards the baby which Carmen took

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really good care of. And he more and more got the impression of those three growing

together as a family. He still wasn‟t sure, if he liked this idea of Carmen being

together with Christopher – and the baby. Tired of this whole thinking about Carmen

and the ups and downs in this case Franks finally fell asleep.

“Wouldn‟t you like to have another coffee, too, Franks” Carmen rose Franks from his

sleep. A bit irritated and with a feeling of being caught he replied: “Co… ah… coffee?

Always a good idea. Yes, please, Carmen.”

Carmen went towards a flight assistant and asked for two more coffees. She nestled

with some sugar packages and the plastic spoon and finally went back to Frank‟s

place where she served him his cup who politely thanked her. They had a small chat

while she was still standing next to his seat in the corridor when the captain‟s voice

was speaking.

“… We will be arriving in London Heathrow, please remain seated and put on your

safety-belt … “.

“Okay, I have to return to my own seat again, Franks. See you later.” Carmen said

and with a confident smile on her face, she walked back to her row and before sitting

down she glanced back. Franks eyes were already closed again, his head leaned on

his right shoulder his cheek nearly on his breast.

Carmen being under tension when the plane was landing grasped for Christopher‟s

hand.

The touchdown of the plane‟s wheels disturbed the babies sleep and all of a sudden

it started to cry.

“Well, let‟s hurry up and get out of the plane, Carmen. Christopher said stepping back

the small corridor in the plane and looking around. “Franks!” Christopher shouted

about to make his way through the already lined-up crowd of passengers. “Franks!”

“We‟ll meet him at the luggage belt anyway, Christopher, and while both of you fetch

the luggage there, and I‟ll just change the baby‟s diaper in the bathroom.

The passengers already were getting impatient. Their whole mime and gesture

expressed their wish to get out off the plane. Christopher saw himself surrounded by

people moving and pushing unsteadily from one foot to the other in the corridor to get

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off. So he jumped several times in order to see Frank‟s familiar head somewhere. He

didn‟t notice people looking at him somehow uncomfortably, somehow irritated as

Christopher tried to lurch through the crowd every time he touched the ground. He

looked around for Franks, but he couldn‟t see him in order to catch his eyes.

“We‟ll meet him at the luggage belt, Christopher. He‟s in one of the last rows and for

sure, he‟s just waiting for the masses to get off first. Let‟s move, darling.” Carmen

said angrily and because she had given the crying baby to him and started to walk

along the corridor into direction of the plane‟s exit, he felt forced to follow her though

another power kept him from doing so. He somehow felt being in a déjà-vu, but still it

was different. He jumped to look around for the last time with the baby on his arm.

This time he was able to see Franks head of hair before the masses got off the plane

taking him away with a still crying child.

He was quickly following Carmen to the luggage-belt where she turned around and

abruptly took away the weeping baby from Christopher‟s arms. In a harsh voice she

hissed: “Fetch the luggage, Christopher, I‟ll go and pamper the baby now.”

It was still fine for Christopher. He knew her already with these different moods and

her sometimes completely emotional reactions. He knew this woman so well, and

that was in fact the reason why he loved her so much. He was able to accept her the

way she was, without any restrictions.

With one eye he was watching the belt spitting off one piece of luggage after the

other and whiles the other was still looking and searching for Franks.

Suddenly, his eye caught someone familiar. He realized that there was a man, whose

face he knew from somewhere. Franks? It was the same blonde man who had been

snooping around his home and spying on him before. It was the same blonde man

who had been at the holy Easter procession of Valladolid. It was the same blonde

man who had been in the train the three detectives were in from Germany to Prague.

It was the same blond man in Prague who dressed as a woman. It was the same

blond man who killed three more victims in Rotterdam.

It was BING!

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“This is my chance to arrest Bing.” He was on the way to him when he suddenly saw

Carmen with the baby running after Bing. At first he thought that Carmen would try to

catch and finally arrest him, but all of a sudden Carmen and Bing embraced each

other and Christopher turned into stone. When he saw them he was shocked and

deeply hurt at the same time. He couldn‟t move nor give a sound. Christopher stood

alone in the middle of the airport and didn't notice what happened around him. Being

bumped into and pushed aside by others, Christopher stood there overwhelmed by

his emotions. Like in a movie he was only able to watch them quickly walking

towards a gate destination Havana.

He even forgot Franks.

---------------------------------------

“There‟s a letter and your newspaper for you, here you are.” the postman said while

Christopher turned the TV‟s volume down. He signed the paper, thanked the old and

friendly man delivering the mail. After having closed the door; he sat down again in

his armchair in front of the TV. Christopher looked at the letter with a handwriting on

it that was so familiar to him and whose appearance immediately cut his heart. The

newspaper fell with a crackling noise next to his left foot on the carpet floor facing the

today‟s headline, but not Christopher‟s attention.

DEAD DETECTIVE FOUND IN AIRPLANE – (dpa) …

Christopher quickly opened the letter.

Dear Christopher,

I'm so sorry. I don’t know how to begin, but I strongly feel I owe you this letter after all what I have done

to you. It all started like this ... My father and mother separated, and my mother never told me who my

father was and why they divorced. Only by accident I found out that the murdered Hans Kappelhoff was

my father, but then he was already dead. In the evening I drove home to talk to my mother to find out the

truth. In the beginning, my mother intended to tell me everything, but I noticed that something was wrong

with her. When she finally opened up, she told me all about the affair between my father and his student at

university, Maria Chambers, the first murdered victim in England. She told me she was so jealous that she

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could have killed Maria. But she didn’t. You surely ask yourself why and who has killed Hans and all the

others. You might think, it was my mother, but it turned out to be quite different.

It was BING, my twin brother.

When my parents divorced, my father took Bing with him one night as he couldn’t imagine living without

his children. He at least wanted to have one, his son. He also separated us twins. My mother tried very

hard, but in vain, to find a way in order to get her son back. Psychologically down, she finally moved over

to her mother country Spain with me. Bing stayed somewhere with my father. As I was very small when all

of this happened, I couldn’t remember having had a twin brother at all. And in addition to this, we had no

chance of any contact at all.

My father couldn’t cope with Bing´s education as he worked a lot and he spent most of his time looking

around for younger students, such as Maria Chambers. So a day he decided to give Bing away. Bing finally

was raised in a Christian orphan and my father stopped visiting him after some time. So Bing grew up not

really knowing who and where his parents are. He didn’t even know anything about me, his twin sister.

Being finally old enough, he started researches a day and discovered his past. He puzzled his past together

piece by piece and demanded revenge. His Christian values were the only footing he had and he vowed to be

lead by the Ten Commandments. All infidels who neglected the ten rules and therefore caused chaos and

suffer had to be kill.

Bing killed Maria Chambers being the reason for all the tragedy. Then he killed our father because he has

committed adultery. Thirdly, he killed Lorena because she was pregnant and said it was a mistake to have

an affair with him, Bing. When his child was born, Bing killed Lorena’s husband, who we found on the

mill and then his friend, who he burned and tossed into the lake.

And then there was Franks. He was the last victim of Bing - and I. But the ninth commandment is “thou

shall not covet another man's wife”. I killed him because he constantly was making eyes on me whenever

you weren’t there. I killed him, because I love you, the love of my life. And because of this, he had to die.

I'm so sorry for everything, Christopher, but I had to do it because my family's honour was at risk. Believe

me, I really love you. Nevertheless, you will go on catching me, moreover Bing, my beloved brother, and his

child. The family is again united.

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I had to make a decision between you and my new family. Christopher. We will probably never see each

other again. But I'll always keep you forever in my heart, because you are my love and will remain it

forever.

Always in love

Carmen

Christopher was petrified. He lifted his head and gazed out of the window feeling

stunned and numbed and tossed around by the feelings inside and the thoughts in

his head. Unable to move he just sat there in his armchair.

… with the latest news. Aircrash: The flight of British Airways BA 9871 from

London Heathrow to Jose Mati, International Airport Havanna, crashed near

the Bermuda Islands yesterday night. The public authorities speak of 216

to 225 dead. No one is supposed to have survived the crash. The airline is

deeply concerned as the airplane was just being checked. Investigations

have been started.

Christopher scrunched the letter with both hands and whispered moonily. “I‟ll solve

the case, father, investigations have been restarted.”

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Franks could not believe his ears. Christopher had to repeat the bad news several

times before he managed to grasp it. He had been so certain the case had been

successfully concluded and now the detective from the Rotterdam Police had upset it

all with his unexpected phone call. Now even his wonderful glass of Heineken

draught beer tasted suddenly like ashes. He needed to know where Bing really was

instead of lying on a slab in a Dutch morgue.

The letter had been so positive about the intended suicide. That‟s why everybody

had jumped to the conclusion that it had been Bing‟s body floating in the river “Maas”.

Franks should have known better as Bing had been making fools of them all the time.

So, why not right now? Both he and Christopher, not to forget Carmen as well, had

believed what they wanted to believe. The death of the twisted serial killer!!

Unfortunately, he had judged too quickly. All three should have used their brains

instead of their emotions. But that was all water under the bridge. This awkward

situation meant back to the grindstone. Catching Bing was going to be difficult as he

had a day‟s start on them. He could be anywhere.

Franks and Christopher started pondering the killer‟s possible whereabouts. He might

be in another country or he might be close. He might even be sitting quite near to

them, having a beer and observing his hunters. The very thought was singularly

unnerving.

Their next step was a visit to the police detective to ask whether they had found any

clues on the body or at the scene if the murder. But the only thing the detective could

tell them was that John Sanders had been alive when Bing torched him. The detailed

description if the torture sent shivers down the spines of the two hardened

policemen. They thanked the Dutch detective for his cooperation and decided to

have another look at the crime scene. Perhaps some clue had been overlooked! You

never can tell with an overworked policeforce. But the Rotterdam Police department

had done a very thorough job.

Nevertheless they discovered something strange, a small cassette recorder. They

realised at once that it was Bing‟s and that he had had the bloody nerve to put it

there after the forensic team had left. It was the sign they had been looking for.It

made clear that Bing was still playing with them. He had to be near, which was to

their advantage. With a little bit of luck they could still arrest him.

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With their find they went back to the hotel where Carmen was to meet them after her

shopping spree. It was not easy to tell her that her parents‟ murderer was still alive

and at large. She almost collapsed with shock. It was too much after the enormous

relief that the killer was dead by his own hands. After a hearty cry on Christopher‟s

shoulder she pulled herself together and was ready to start the hunt all over again.

They poured themselves a glass of mineral water and settled in their chairs to listen

to the recording. The room was completely silent because they didn‟t want to miss

any detail. Even the smallest clue could put them on the right track. There was some

background noise. It sounded like children laughing and playing. Had the killer made

his recording near a playground or a school? A few moments later they discerned a

ringing sound that could be a school bell. And some seconds after that a tinkling

sound that they associated with an ice-cream vendor‟s. Carmen had read

somewhere that lots of schools in Holland had ice-cream vendors‟ cars nearby so

that schoolchildren could spend their pocket money there during breaks on sticky ice-

creams, much to the dismay of the teachers.

Having analysed the background noises they turned their attention to the actual

message. For the first time they heard Bing‟s voice, cold and without any emotion. It

gave them the creeps.

“Making fools of you all was so easy. You blindly follow every clue I leave behind.

You believe everything I tell you. On the other hand, everything I wrote down in that

letter was the unvarnished truth. I was going to kill myself, but in the end I just

couldn‟t. I simply could not give up my life. I want to see so many parts of the world

where I haven‟t been yet. Take South Africa for example. I have been told it is a

wonderful country. And the same goes for Australia. I have all the time in the world

and nobody left to care about. I can go many places, although I won‟t be able to stay

put because then you will track me down. I knew I would be on the run for the rest of

my life. I knew it even before I started killing. But it is worth it. I will never feel at home

anywhere again in my life and I will always have to watch my back. So be it!

I will leave Holland shortly.

I wish you all the luck you need and remember……………Destiny is in your hands.

So take good care of her!!”

From these words they understood that he was on the run again. Far away from the

Netherlands and the Dutch police. A journey into the unknown.

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Carmen picked up the phone and called Schiphol Airport. She tried to discover when

the next flight to South Africa would be. “In one hour and 45 minutes” a cheerful voice

told her. This called for quick action. No time to lose. They ran to the car they had

rented and drove off with Franks behind the wheel because he had a lot of

experience driving on the right side of the road. Meanwhile Christopher phoned the

Dutch police detective and acquainted him with the latest developments.

When they hit the A13 motorway they made good progress as there were hardly any

traffic jams, a rare occurrence on Dutch roads. Getting closer to Schiphol Airport they

moved onto the A4 where they had a near miss when a madman behind a wheel

overtook them at a terrific pace. Carmen noted the number plates and called the

police again. After a few harrowing moments the voice came back to them with the

tidings that the plates belonged to a car that had been stolen the night before in the

vicinity of a school. That reminded them of the background noises on the tape. The

madman in the stolen car just had to be Bing. Franks accelerated while Christopher

told the Rotterdam detective that they were giving chase and asked for police

assistance.

Of course they had lost precious minutes trying to find out about the car, so Bing was

definitely in the lead again. They had to rush and entered the Schiphol grounds at top

speed. But it all seemed useless for there was nowhere a stolen car or a murderer in

sight. The men started losing courage, but Carmen urged them on. They left the car

at the first departure hall and hurried inside where they were stopped by a customs

officer, who thought their behaviour rather suspicious. They told their story and, due

to the language barrier, they lost more time than they could afford, even though the

Dutch customs officer spoke English rather well. He contacted the detective at the

Rotterdam police force to check Frank‟s story. Finally they could continue their chase

accompanied by some police officials.

When they reached the gate from which the flight to South Africa was to leave they

saw the gate had been closed already to passengers. Looking out of the window they

saw the plane taxiing away.

There was nothing they could do anymore at that moment. The murderer had been

too fast and too clever for them. But they would not give up. They would do whatever

possible to get him behind bars. If possible for the rest of his life……

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Carmen was very nervously walking from one side of room to the other. Do I have to

go there or wait for Christopher and Franks? She decided to go and leave a

message. There was something very curious about the baby.

Carmen arrived at the hospital where the murderer´s baby was. It took time till she

found the children‟s ward. She was standing behind a big glass window looking for

the name Christian Huygens, which was written on a tag hanging on the cot. When

she finally found the right cot, she realized that the baby who should have been in the

cot was missing.

“Excuse me, lady... would you help me please? Did you take her to another ward?”

Carmen asked.

“No, someone came to visit her a few minutes ago... she was there!” the frightened

nurse told her.

“Who was it?” Carmen said and showed her detective badge.

“A man who told me he is the father of the baby.” the nurse said quickly.

Bing... but he couldn´t, I though he is dead, Carmen thought. There was a strange

noise behind her. She turned and saw a running man with a baby in his hand. He

was rising from the ground, because he had apparently tripped over a chair that had

fallen. It was Bing. She didn‟t wait a second and started to run after him. “Stop!” she

shouted at him. Everyone panicked at the hospital, so it was very hard to keep pace

in the crowd. She hurried out of the hospital. She quickly looked around and saw

Bing stealing a bicycle. Carmen grabbed the first bike she saw and continued

following him. She clumsily called Christopher that she was following him and it

looked as if Bing was going to the place where they had found the baby. Bing

disappeared from her sight. Carmen felt something hard hitting her face. She fell off

the bike and was lying on the ground totally fuzzy. The last thing she felt was a

handkerchief pressed to her face with a strangely smelling substance, which made

her immovable.

She woke up in a small dark shack. She was sitting tied to a chair. Bing was a little

farther with a gun in his hand. “Finally...” Bing said thoughtfully. Then he got up and

sat beside the child packed in a coat. He put a gun next to him. Carmen had a few

seconds to recover. The fact that Bing wasn‟t paying attention helped her and she

loosened the wrong tied knot on her hands. She was slowly and quietly rising

determined to grab his gun.

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“Bing, give up!” shouted Christopher from the Dutch police car outside the shack.

Bing was shocked, picked up a gun from the floor and pointed it directly to Carmen.

“Bing you don‟t have a place where to run. Put the gun down.” Bing was slowly

considering the idea to put the gun away when he got an absolutely brilliant idea. He

pointed the gun to the child and told Carmen to resign. “Stand back or I'll kill the

child” he said. He could see that Carmen liked the child very much. Otherwise she

wouldn‟t go to the hospital, he thought.

“Bing, I count to ten and if you don´t leave, we will go inside.” Christopher shouted.

Bing looked to the floor and pushed the trigger hard. “One!” Christopher shouted.

“Don´t kill this baby!” said Carmen. “Two, three.” Christopher continued. “Four, five,

six, seven!” “Go, but leave the baby there.” Christopher shouted again. “Eight, nine!

Bing! You have one last chance. The police are ready.” Christopher warned. Bing

smiled and said “I´ll leave her here, take care of him.” He used the trap door in the

floor and left the child where he had promised.

Christopher and Franks burst into the shack. “Carmen, are you all right? I thought

that I would never see you again” Chris said in a hurry. “Where is Bing?” Franks said.

”I do not know, he used the trap door over there.” Franks hurried to the trapdoor and

tried to open it which he managed after a great effort. Quickly! Franks ran as fast as

he could. Will he finally catch the murderer? What if not? Franks was sweating. He

knew that he couldn‟t run forever. He stopped. He must have. His dropped on his

knees. His head was spinning. His mind was suddenly filled with a total emptiness.

Carmen called an ambulance immediately after Franks‟s heart attack. Chris was

running after Bing. He caught him after a while and knocked him down. Bing didn‟t

resist. Limp blond hair was framing his gaunt face. He only uttered that God was on

his side and that God was happy that he had cleared all the victims from all their sins.

He was murmuring a wordless prayer.

Christopher put his hand on Franks‟s shoulder and pressed it. EKG was tirelessly

following his heartbeat. “Franks, we got him. He won„t hurt anybody again.”

Christopher whispered in his ear. Christopher didn„t know what would happen with

Franks. He hoped that Franks had heard him.

Christopher felt a sudden pressure in his hand. He sadly smiled at Carmen. Franks

deserved to know it but it was too late.

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Bing felt relieved to feel the warmth of the coffee he had just bought at Starbucks

Schiphol. He had just passed the security checks without any problems, but not

without concern. He thought that the police would already have a warrant for his

arrest and the thought of the oversight that he had just committed tortured him.

Each step he took seemed a mistake. He trembled when he showed his passport,

when he was being frisked, ... He realized he had nothing to fear, except himself. He

opened Monday‟s newspaper "De Telegraaf" which he had grabbed from the bar at

the cafeteria. It did not mention anything about the double murder, and that was

something he did not like. He had learned that when the police are discreet, they are

keeping an ace up their sleeve. A quick glance at the clock made him realize that

there were only five minutes left before boarding the plane to Newcastle. There was

no time to lose, and even less time to let his paranoia paralyze him.

The taxi driver was doing his best to dodge cars in the heavy traffic, typical of a

Tuesday in Rotterdam, while Christopher and Franks held tight on to their phones.

Everything was going smoothly as five police cars were already waiting at the airport

parking in Newcastle. Carmen was staring blankly out the window at the cluster of

homes dotted around the lakes of the Dutch city, remembering the feeling of the

hands of the little Destiny when they left her an hour before at the Social Services

building in the centre of town. She had the same fair hair which Carmen imagined

that the lunatic father of the child would also have. She turned to watch Christopher,

but he was already getting out of the car. They had arrived at Rotterdam airport.

The bird's eye view of the North Sea through the fog, welcomed him after his shock.

He did not know how long he had been on the plane since the take off from

Amsterdam but he knew he had fallen asleep. He had remembered in his dreams

that visit to Christopher's house, when everything started. He had dreamed of holding

Destiny in his arms, of giving her Christmas presents in the company of Lorena. He

had remembered how John had killed the poor, religious Czech man by mistake. He

also recalled himself slipping the narcotics into Franks‟ wine, wearing that ridiculous

wig. "I've been so close to you the whole time, and you didn‟t catch me." He felt so

pleased with himself that he forgot everything and focused on finding boats in the fog

and the blue sea. He ran his fingers through his blond hair, as the plane descended,

approaching England.

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Christopher was grabbing Carmen‟s hand firmly as the wheels of the plane left Dutch

territory. He closed his eyes, "How is it possible that we didn‟t figure it out earlier?"

He knew that Carmen was reading his thoughts. She whispered in his ear: "It's all

over. Do not beat yourself up." Franks turned and told them that everything was

ready in Newcastle and he had received the congratulations of Inspector Garcia.

They all agreed that the two-hour flight that awaited them would be the longest of

their lives.

Bing got up from his uncomfortable seat. His impatience to get off the plane annoyed

the lady sitting beside him, who refused to move until the plane stopped. He ignored

her angry face and the farewell of the stewardess. He was the first one off the plane

and he walked determinedly down the hallway to the baggage claim area. He passed

quickly through the baggage claim area because he had not checked any bags. He

was rubbing his eyes that were blinded by light which came through the glass door of

the departure area, when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He was easily restrained.

He didn‟t even try to resist. "Your destiny has arrived, Bing", he told himself bitterly. A

sharp pain filled his head as the English policeman read him the long list of charges

against him. He had no objections. In the end he had lost everything.

Christopher, Franks and Carmen arrived at the Newcastle Central station soaking

wet from the rain. Upon arrival at the interrogation room, the sight of the handcuffs

tightly around the wrists of the blond man was enough evidence for the three

detectives to move on, the image they needed to forget this story, and yet, to hold on

to the unforeseen good things that the adventure had given them.

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„Is that your phone Christopher?‟ asked Franks, gesturing towards Christopher‟s

pocket.

„Hello Christopher‟ the strange voice echoed down the phone

„Who is this?‟ Christopher replied.

The strange voice down the phoned laughed as if mocking the detective.

„Surely you should know by now, we have met on countless occasions, if you wish to

end this now meet me outside Reza Masoudi in two hours‟

Then the phone went dead.

An hour and a half later …

Christopher silently looked at the clock again. The time was taking forever to pass:

his friends followed behind him, the armed backup were all in place all they were

waiting for now was his arrival.

After what seemed like an eternity the blonde man appeared out of the very old

cathedral doors walking towards him as if greeting him like a friend. He appeared to

be sporting a gentlemen‟s attire, as if he was to attend a funeral.

„Ah Christopher it‟s very nice to see you here!‟

„Bing, give it up, it‟s about time you turned yourself in‟

Bing sighed.

„What do you think I am here for?‟

Slowly Bing reached into his pocket…… His head whipped back, and his lifeless

body fell to the floor. Dramatically Christopher ran across the cobbled floor towards

Bing, whilst lifting his pale hand upwards the journal fell out opening onto a page

which showed a picture of two small boys and a man, Christopher recognized it: it

showed it was him and his father. A picture from his very early childhood.

Christopher looked down and retrieved the journal from the dead man‟s hands …

Many years have gone since my mother passed; I can‟t carry this on anymore.

I need to tell my story.

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I am named Alistair Bing, Alistair after my father. My father was a very clever man; he

was a detective and a very good one. He knew about me, unlike anyone else. For a

while I think he couldn‟t accept it but he wasn‟t about to tell anyone: he kept this

premonition with him until the day that he died.

My story started nearly thirty years ago now but I can still remember it like it

happened yesterday, the feeling of power, control and the fact that I was important

made me stronger. I now had a meaning. I wasn‟t just the little religious boy who had

nowhere to go anymore: I was different. I had a job to do.

Being brought up in the Church meant I believed in a lot of things, my head was filled

with doings and wrongdoings, the ideas of God and Jesus, being young I knew the

difference between right and wrong. The Ten Commandments played a massive part

in my upbringing: well from what I can remember. Before this I did actually have

parents. Well one. My mother, she was a beautiful woman who died too young- I

didn‟t know my father; I could remember him being there once, however. Then that‟s

it. My mother died a few years later and I had nowhere or no-one to go too, so the

Catholic Church took me in, in their charitable home for poor little orphans.

That‟s when I decided, I was going to make my own little family who would love me

for who I was, and I would love them too.

Suddenly it all fell into place, I found my beautiful lover: Lorena! She was the one

thing that I had ALWAYS wanted, I had waited years to meet her and when I did it

was perfect. I adored her like nothing else in this world, I had never felt this much

love, for or off someone, and I didn‟t want to with anyone else either!

I had longed for some attention off someone or anyone for most part of my life; I have

always thought deep inside me that I had a long lost brother or some kind of relative.

After the death of Maria Chambers, the detectives on the case suddenly realized that

art linked to her death, it took a while for them to piece the clues together but they

finally understood, and when they did they took a trip to the art gallery- that‟s when

decided to follow them there. Once there, I slowly but discreetly walked in, and

started looking around, finding nothing really that important or interesting: I

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desperately needed to find out what the police knew and what information on the

murder they had. Suddenly a stocky built man pushed me violently out of the way I

turned around and he had a pistol at my head! Fear ran through my veins, but I was

not scared or frightened of this man. Shortly after this a qualified Detective burst also

through the door and came upon this shocking scene! Looking almost right at the

detective I felt something deep inside: it was almost like some other worldly attraction

was trying to draw us together, but I did not know or recognize him, and had never

seen his face.

Steadily grabbing my thoughts back together I realized what I had to do, violently I

pushed the detective out of the way and ran for my life back to my place of living.

And now I start my journey of purification …

„Early in the morning I arrived in the city of Valladolid, Spain. I had about 24 hours

before the famous parade, La Acera Recoletos. I plan to use this as my cover to

observe Christopher and his gallivanting accomplice Detective Franks, but for now I

must prepare myself, I must get ready to cleanse the world of another sinner. An

infidel most foul. “You shall have no other gods before Me.” NO OTHER GODS! He

should not worship a false idol. The father has granted me the role of the executioner

of heretics. The sinners should shall rot and burn in the eternal flames of hell. A

punishment most befitting.

Perhaps, though, my true motive is my interest in this Detective Roberts. There is

something so familiar, so alluring about him. Why is this? His face, it reminds me of

one that I saw so many years ago. In my youth. It lingers in my mind like Satan in the

apple tree.

Sanity is dictated by what the larger percentage of society sees, what does that

mean though? Clearly nothing. When the larger percentage of society are the ones

that aren‟t at terms with sanity, then the true believers, the ones who know their role

in this world are deemed „a danger to others‟ or „insane‟. But we know. We know

what the father wants of us. We know that the sinners are vile and need to be

relinquished from God‟s perfect world. Only then may we return to the Garden.

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Return to paradise. I am truly sane. It is the world that has descended into insanity by

allowing such a plague to befoul it.‟

„Look at him now, the poor fool. He hangs heavy above the floor of the Church,

mangled like the disgraced Lucifer in Madrid. My only regret is that Jesus had to pay

witness to this, Jesus‟ judging eyes forever fixated on me during the last moments of

that hypocritical parasite‟s life. I confess my sins, I can only hope the divine Lord can

forgive me as I have done nothing but aid him. I am his Angel of Death, Lucifer was

cast down for his arrogance, whereas I stay humble and loyal to God.‟

„I have not seen my beloved in months, she believes I am on a “business trip” and, in

a way I am. I cannot find it in my heart to tell her I am an executioner for the cross.

My business is in retribution. My business is in blood of the unholy. My business is in

divine justice.‟

„Spotted. I should not have stayed after the parade has passed, but my strange

attraction to the Detective overwhelmed my being. Surely, merely passing by, as the

executioner with the cross and the burning torch should have been enough. Why

wouldn‟t it be? But my curiosity gained the better of me. Why does he seem so

familiar? WHY?! This question eats away at me as it whizzes around me mind. The

torch burned away the sins of my flesh as I passed by, and I should have felt the

beauty of this, but my mind was transfixed on Detective Roberts. My main quarrel

with my own stupidity is the removal of my costume. Would it have been more

suspicious to be a member of the parade return, or the man once already seen? I

return to my love soon. All will be well. I must hurry now; they‟ll be here soon.‟

„Curious. What is Christopher up to? I decided to keep a low profile in case they grew

suspicious of me. I would not repeat the same mistake as in Spain, I will not allow

myself to be discovered once again, as the true journey has not yet begun. I will be

careful, and precise in covering my tracks, but I will be sure to keep a watchful eye

upon the detective and his allies‟ motions, as I still feel a divine bond to Christopher.‟

„Alas, during a state of peace, in that most miraculous of God‟s gifts – the gift of

dreams, I saw that which had pondered on my mind for so long. In a dream, ones

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oldest memories fluorescently come to life. I remember a crisp, glowing sun that

arose high above the lush, green lawn. I was but a child at the time, but that which is

truly magnificent is not the recollection of my youth, but that of my father‟s face. Not

my divine father, but my father of the mortal world, the one that created me. I

remember another, one of just a baby in my father‟s arms. He seems so familiar, and

I now know why. I have been following him all around Europe. I have been observing

his every action, his every breath. He is my half-brother; Christopher. I was the

bastard of Alistair, a man whose name I share.‟

…David Suk, the man god guided me to purify. I took his life at the Jan Amos

Comenius Church, to make sure the victim was confronted with his infidelity whilst his

soul was banished to hell.

I waited around three hours to make my move; when I quickly stuffed him into the

trunk of a yellow taxi taking on the role of the pretended driver I then drove to Jan

Amos Comenius Church, where I nailed him to a huge wooden cross which appeared

behind the pulpit. I left the sacrifice hanging on the monumental cross. He was bound

by solid thick ropes. I pointed one of the victim‟s arms, which was supported by a

rope, and the elbow towards the top of the cross.

My victim was a tourist guide, who was always wearing some sort of religious attire

normally in the form of his massive gold cross was hanging on his neck. Who was

obsessed with his work and eagerly took it upon himself to stick his nose into places

which didn‟t concern him.

Suk was a long member of our local catholic church which he attended with his wife;

she was a beautiful blue eyed woman who had a comfortable illumination when she

entered a room. I first witnessed his unfaithfulness when I spied him leaving the

church mid way through the service in a hurry, so decided to follow but left in a more

dignified manner. Slowly following him, to my disbelief and anger I saw that he was

meeting another woman apart from his wife. The anger in me rose and I had to stop

myself from shouting at him for being unfaithful and for being a sinner. The only way I

stopped was by making a promise to myself. If I ever had the opportunity I would take

his life from him and offer it up to god.

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I pretended to be a policewoman who was there with two colleagues, who were jack

and john, we acted as if we were there to investigating the crime scene. Where I

sported a blond wig, heels and had two pairs of brown socks in a bra, to make my

appearance more believable. My brother‟s sidekick, Franks, seemed to loudly

discuss the case with me. Frank‟s seemed to have a bit of a thing for me, which was

a whole new experience for me, which I did not like and neither would he, if he knew

my true appearance at this point.

He kindly asked me out for dinner to discuss the case and not to arise suspicion I

had to agree. I arranged to meet at seven in the restaurant, U Kastelana in Kotlarska

Street where I told him the cuisine is fabulous. When my plan was already in order.

At seven o'clock Alice, or should I say I, hurried with my three companions to the

restaurant. We had to leave the taxi a block of buildings away so that it didn‟t look

suspiciously. I told them to wait for me outside the restaurant. Hoping that our plan

would work. Franks had been already waiting for me to arrive.

Finally, I thought he would never go. While Franks was looking for men's toilets, I put

a narcotic powder into his glass of wine, hoping this would be enough. I was happy

that my plan was working.

“Just put him there” I told them, as they settled Franks down onto the ground. I could

finally take off that stupid wig I‟d had to wear; it was incredibly itchy, even as I was

sat in the restaurant. I took out the two pairs of socks I had shoved into my bra,

unraveling them.

“You did a god job boss. Do you know everything?” This displeased me.

“Otherwise he would not be here right? Idiot.” Franks rolled around then, asking for

“me” as he got more and more muddy.

“Shut up! I cannot listen to you anymore.” I put the gag in his mouth, almost laughing

as he retched at the smell.

A pang of guilt hit me then, but I knew that if I wanted to find Christopher I had to do

this to him.

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Besides, it‟s not like we‟d hurt him that much. This time.

Rotterdam.

Groggily, I wandered into my house as the day grew dark. Coming home was the

best thing that happened today, as I can finally call my beloved. She‟ll be thrilled.

“Hello?” Her voice is so beautiful; I almost choke on my voice, knowing it would not

be as heavenly as hers.

“Lorena, its Alistair.”

“Alistair? Who‟s Alistair?” My heart sank, but then I remembered I did not often

disclose my first name to her, even though we were so close.

“It‟s me Lorena, Alistair Bing. I realize that I do not usually use my first name; this is

simply because it brings back memories which are dead and buried. Anyway, that is

irrelevant. Let‟s not dwell on it. The reason I called is, I really miss you, and would

love to see you. I‟ve arranged for you to come and meet me at the Hilton Hotel. I

hope this isn‟t too much of an inconvenience.”

“Of course it isn‟t. I can‟t wait to see you. What time should we meet?”

“8 o‟clock at the entrance darling. I can‟t wait to see you either, I love you.”

“I love you too, I‟ll see you there.” The dead tone rang, as a smile broke across my

face.

I walked out of my apartment, door crashing behind me. I was going to see my love; I

honestly could not be happier right now. 8 o‟clock is fast approaching by the time I

get to the entrance of the hotel. I could see her coming down the street, satin red

dress swaying in the gentle breeze. She was perfection.

As she approached me I could smell the sweet scent of her perfume, her red lipstick

radiant in the moonlight. She left me breathless. We walked into the foyer; the bright

lights shining down on us. It was as if we were on stage. After collecting the room

key, Lorena and I caught the next available lift and straight into our room. I can recall

the none stop touching which occurred in there. The door slammed shut behind, and

we were thrust into our night of passion.

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I woke first, turning to look at her. She was so beautiful; even as she slept she looked

like an angel. In my head, I wanted nothing more than to stay and lie with her forever,

but I knew that this could not last. Fidelity is one of the most important things which

the Bible supports and by seeing Lorena I‟m making her unfaithful. But what am I to

do? She is my world; I could not possibly live without her. If I had to, I would surely

break. When she awoke, I called down to room service for a meal for me and her.

We enjoyed it, and we discussed sometime that we could meet up again. However,

we both knew we could not see each other for at least a month as our jobs made it

difficult, and Lorena had to attend the Rotterdam Summer Festival.

Month later-

I got to see my beautiful Lorena again, oh how I longed for her that month. I missed

her more than ever then. After we had dinner, we took a walk down the river side.

She was wearing her shoes which were bought for special occasions; god only

knows what Jack thinks. She told me that she told him she was just going out with

some friends, and that he wouldn‟t think anything of it. But I knew him better than

that; I knew he would be worried, and maybe quite hurt. This struck me, but I put on a

smile and did not waste my time with my Lorena. After all, I do not know when it is I

will next see her.

Lorena and I eventually went to my house, both wanting to have some alone time

before she had to go back to Jack. As we walked into my room, she noticed my

unpacked suitcase lying on the floor.

“Would you like me to wash some clothes for you?” She reached to open the lid, but

luckily I pulled her hand away before she could.

“No thank you, I‟ll do it later.” I could not begin to imagine what she would do if she

saw my bloody clothes; she would be horrified. A few minutes later she forgot about

what I‟d done though, but she looked different. She had done all evening. Suddenly,

tears began to pour from her eyes.

“Lorena darling, what‟s wrong?” I spoke, hugging her tightly against me.

“Do you remember the night at the Hilton Hotel?” I nodded, hoping she would

continue faster. “Well, we did not use protection, and I have not have my period since

then. I took a test yesterday and, it came out positive. Alistair, I‟m pregnant.”

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An array of different thoughts rushed into my head all at once, bombarding me with

the plain truth. This is what I‟d always wanted and hoped for, however, I could see

that Lorena was confused. I did not show my happiness; instead just asking her what

she wanted to do, and that she could live with me and we could keep our child.

“I don‟t want to have an abortion, but you know Jack is infertile, and I love him so

much. I can‟t hurt him.” This angered me. How could she say all of this after the times

we had spent together? And it was my child. She could not take him away from me,

and I would not lose her.

“I will not let you go Lorena, this baby is mine too. You cannot take him from me!”

She screamed back. After we shouted madly at each other, she took a breath.

“I should have never started this affair, it wasn‟t worth it.” I couldn‟t believe this. She

didn‟t want me. I could not hold the words in; I spat them at her.

“What do you want then? Do I have to kill you too?”