Rain Girl (11 page)

He lost his train of thought and blushed under his tan.
How many hours has he spent sweating on the tennis court for this?
Franza thought.

“Now what are you actually trying to tell us, Dr. Lauberts?” Felix asked in a friendly tone.

He’s good at that,
Franza thought approvingly,
he really is good at that. When he wants something he can be friendliness personified—so nice, so kind, and soon the good doctor will have poured his heart out, and he’ll have done so gladly.

She shot Felix a smile and was certain that Dr. Lauberts was feeling quite at ease with them now.

“Well,” Lauberts said, sighing deeply. “I’m here so you don’t draw the wrong conclusions.”

“Wrong conclusions from what?”

“Well.”

He squirmed nervously on his seat.
Now we’re getting down to business,
Franza thought.
Spit it out, we don’t have forever
.

Felix smiled gently and glanced at Franza while Lauberts pulled himself together.

“You’ll find my name.”

Felix leaned forward. Franza held her breath as the suspense grew.

“Your name. Where?”

Now it was Lauberts’s turn to become impatient. “Well, in Marie’s visitors’ record, of course.”

“I see,” Felix said, curbing his excitement. “Meaning?”

“As I said before, I don’t want you to get the wrong idea!”

“And what would be the right idea?”

Felix’s eyes had become narrow slits. He leaned back in his chair, rested his chin in his hand, and stared at Lauberts.

Lauberts stood up and began pacing back and forth.

“Please sit back down,” Felix said calmly. “Why are you so nervous?”

Lauberts took a seat again. “I’m not nervous,” he said. “It’s just that I’m a little embarrassed. I mean, I don’t usually visit my clients in their homes, or, more precisely, in their rooms.”

“Yes,” Felix said slowly. “That’s a little embarrassing, indeed, especially since Marie is dead now. But that you showed up here on your own to explain the situation does you credit. So what was the reason for your, let’s call it
visit
, to Marie?”

Lauberts sighed. “Well, it’s not that easy to explain.”

He looked pleadingly from one detective to the other, but the expressions on their faces remained impassive. He sighed again and took a deep breath. “She came to see me in my office one day to complain about the conditions in the home. She thought that Frau Hauer, the resident supervisor—have you met her yet . . . ?”

He looked questioningly from Franza to Felix, but they both shook their heads. “Yes, well, she thought that Frau Hauer was neglecting her duties, and that the place was getting out of hand. She said she didn’t want to put up with it. I was surprised, especially because I know and value Frau Hauer as one of my most committed and able colleagues. So I agreed to come around in person to have a look at the situation, which I did. Unfortunately, Frau Hauer wasn’t there, hardly anyone was there actually, only Marie and a new employee, an intern I hadn’t met yet. She didn’t know me, and insisted on putting my name in Marie’s visitors’ record even though I’d already shown her my ID from the social welfare office! But I didn’t want to cause trouble, so I let her put my name down. You know what it’s like, one has to lead by example—and when you haven’t got anything to hide, like me . . .”

He laughed nervously and got up. “Well, that’s it, really, that’s what I wanted to tell you. That you shouldn’t be surprised to find my name in the book.”

He looked at his watch. “Yes, well, er, I should be getting back to work.”

They felt his relief that it was over, but they weren’t finished with him yet.

“You went into Marie’s room?”

Felix’s voice sounded calm and harmless. Lauberts nodded, a little confused, not yet realizing that he was digging his own grave. “Yes, I was supposed to inspect it.”

“What about the door? Did it stay open?”

He started stuttering. “No, yes, I don’t know.”

“Which is it?”

He squirmed.

“Sit back down, please,” Felix said. “So, the door?”

Lauberts stood still, but his face twitched.

“What was the name of the woman who wrote down your name?” Felix pulled out his notepad and a pencil.

“I already told you, I didn’t know her!” A glimmer of hope showed on Lauberts’s face.

“No problem,” Felix said calmly and put down his paper and pencil. “Frau Hauer will be able to tell us. How long ago was your . . .
visit
?”

Lauberts closed his eyes for a moment, his breathing shallow. “Two weeks,” he said flatly. “Maybe three.”

“Well, not so long ago. Your conscientious colleague will certainly remember you and your . . .
visit,
don’t you think, Dr. Lauberts?”

Felix got up, stepped behind the empty chair on the other side of his desk, and gestured for Lauberts to take a seat again.

“All right,” Lauberts said and sank down on his chair, a picture of misery.

“The door,” Felix said.

“Yes, the door. Marie might’ve shut it. I’m really not sure. Why is that so important, anyway?”

“There we are,” Felix smiled. “The memory is truly a fascinating thing! We just have to jog it a little every now and again, don’t we? Now tell us once more so we won’t forget it again: the door was shut. Was it maybe even locked? What were you actually doing in that room?”

“Nothing. What do you think I was doing? Nothing, I just had a look around.”

“For how long?”

“What do you mean—
how long
?”

“Well, just how long were you in there? That’s a simple question, isn’t it?”

Felix leaned over his desk and looked straight into Lauberts’s face. The man blinked and then just gave up, his face ashen. “What’s the point, you’ll find out anyway. It’s in the record, after all. About half an hour.”

He was sweating heavily now.

“Half an hour!” Felix whistled softly through his teeth. “Isn’t that a bit long just to inspect a room? Franza, what do you think? Isn’t that a little long?”

Franza nodded. Satisfied with himself, Felix continued, “Why don’t you tell us the truth about your visit to Marie’s room, Dr. Lauberts?”

Lauberts paused for one more moment—one last attempt at resistance—and then he collapsed. “She tried to seduce me, the little bitch!”

“And?” Felix said sweetly. “Did the little bitch succeed?”

Lauberts protested. “Listen, I’m married!”

“That doesn’t stop most people,” Felix said calmly. “But I’m sure you know that as well as I do.”

Felix fell silent. They were all silent. Then they entered the next round.

“Well, did she succeed?”

Lauberts paused to think. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and wiped his forehead. The detectives waited.

“You don’t have to tell my wife, do you?”

“No, not necessarily.”

Lauberts cleared his throat, squeezing the handkerchief in his hand.

“It only happened a few times.”

“What?”

Lauberts looked up, surprised. “Well, I guess you can figure that out.”

Felix shot up from his chair and slammed his hand on the table. There was no trace of kindness left in his voice. “Damn right I can! But I want to hear it from you!”

“Well then!” Lauberts sputtered. “I fucked her! For half an hour! Fucked, get it? Because she wanted it! Because it gave her a kick to do it in her room while that stupid twat waddled around out there in the hall!”

He stopped abruptly, shocked, and got hold of himself again. Then he continued quietly.

“I didn’t even want to; I thought it was too dangerous. But that’s how she liked it, always in strange places. In my office, in her room, at the lake with people all around, in the women’s room at the mall. She always got me into the most impossible situations, the little bitch.”

He shook his head, trembling all over, and took a deep breath.

“But you obviously enjoyed these . . . impossible situations. Otherwise you wouldn’t have gone along with it.”

Lauberts crumbled, nodding slowly. “You have no idea what it’s like,” he said, “when a girl like that comes on to you.” He closed his eyes for a moment. “So young. Like a fountain of youth, like a . . .”

He broke off. He was melting like ice cream in the sun, but neither Franza nor Felix felt sorry for him.

“She was put in your care. Do you understand that?”

He nodded.

“And you took advantage of her.”

He nodded.

“Did you kill her?”

Lauberts started as if bitten by a snake. “No!” he shouted. “For God’s sake, no! Why would I do that?”

“Well, maybe she threatened to tell your wife. Maybe she was blackmailing you. Maybe she was tired of being your—what did you call it?—fountain of youth.”

Lauberts squirmed on his chair. “I didn’t kill her! I could never do such a thing! What do you think I am?!”

Felix didn’t answer the question but posed a new one. “Where were you Monday, from ten at night until Tuesday, around five in the morning?”

“At home, asleep.”

“Can anyone confirm this?”

Lauberts shook his head slowly. “No, I was alone in our house. My wife’s on vacation in Italy, and our children are in boarding school.”

Felix nodded. “You can go now.”

Lauberts stood up, surprised and relieved. “So you believe me?”

Felix narrowed his eyes and didn’t answer right away. “We’ll see.”

Lauberts nodded, took a couple of steps toward the door, and then turned around.

“I paid her, by the way,” he said. “Just so you know. Good money.”

Wow,
Franza thought, raising her eyebrows. She looked at Felix and saw he was surprised, too.

Lauberts kept talking, his voice bitter. They stared at him, wondering what would come next. “And in case you’re thinking it was just me . . . ! No, no. I don’t know how many
friends
she had, and I don’t know their names either, but there were a few. I’m sure you’ll find that out. And one more thing: she was worth it, she was a born whore. She could drive a man to ecstasy, if you know what I mean. Really, it’s a pity she’s dead.”

Lauberts edged his way to the door.

“Dr. Lauberts!” Felix said. Lauberts turned around again.

“That’ll cost you at least your job.”

Lauberts nodded, opening the door.

“Lauberts!”

He waited.

“Tomorrow, ten o’clock, here. Someone will take down your statement. We’ll be expecting you.”

Lauberts nodded again and left.

“Asshole!” Felix said softly.

Franza pulled out the container of cookies, fetched two coffee cups, and poured some Coke from Felix’s bottle for them both.

“Ten years,” she said. “Maybe even fifteen.”

“What?”

“That’s how much he aged in the last few minutes.”

Felix grinned. “That’s exactly what I needed now,” he said, “your sense of humor.”

He stretched out his arms heavenward and exclaimed in mock desperation: “Please God, look after my Franza and her cookies!”

Then he reached deep into the jar, pulled out a chocolate-coated gingerbread cookie, and put it in his mouth, chewing blissfully. “Do you realize this is perverse?” he asked.

“What?”

“Christmas cookies in summer. Chocolate-coated stars when it’s about ninety-eight degrees.”

“You think?”

He nodded with his mouth full, grinning. “I think.”

“But you like them.”

“True.”

“You see? Then it isn’t perverse. Being a cop, you should know how the human mind works.”

He laughed and leaned forward, patting her arm. “We need to get a drink sometime soon, just you and me.”

She nodded, got up, and walked to the window. Even though the windows were closed and the blinds were down, the thermometer read seventy-five degrees, and that was inside. She sighed and turned her thoughts back to their visitor. “Interesting, what he told us. Do you think it’s true?”

Felix knew immediately what she was thinking. “What reason would Lauberts have to lie to us? None.”

“Exactly.”

“And her mother’s statement, and the letter saying she was in love—how does that all fit together?”

“It doesn’t. These are two different things.”

“At least now we know what we need to look for.”

“Something like a list of clients.”

He nodded. “Exactly, a list of clients. Well, I wonder if we’ll have any surprises?”

He picked up the photo and studied it thoughtfully. “I can imagine she was hard to resist.”

“You can?”

“Oh, yes, looking at the picture—I’m just a man, too.”

He raised his shoulders apologetically and looked at her with big, innocent eyes. She thought of Port and what he’d said, and in some far corner of her brain she wondered whether he was on the list, too . . .

“So what have we got,” Felix said. “On the one hand prostitution and on the other, true love. Thank God she got to experience that, too.”

“Poor girl. Don’t you think, Felix? All those crazy locations—that’s just crying out: ‘I want to be discovered! Why won’t you find me?!’ What a legacy to inherit from your grandfather.”

Franza paused for a moment. “We should try to spare her mother all this.”

Felix nodded.

“We also need to check her finances as soon as possible to get a better picture of her
. . . job
.”

Felix nodded again, slowly, thinking. “And her boyfriend, I mean her real boyfriend, I wonder who he is? We really need to find him.”

“Which won’t be easy.”

“Why not? She was living with other young people after all, and they would gossip and share secrets, wouldn’t they?”

“I don’t think she’d have paraded him around much. The way I see our girl at this stage, she would have kept him secret, like the rest of her life basically. And if he hasn’t reached out to us by now, I don’t think he’ll contact us at all.”

“Which doesn’t really reflect well on him. I mean, you kind of notice when you can’t get hold of your girlfriend anymore. And if you have nothing to hide, at some point you start looking, you go to the police for help—but that
point
has come and gone, don’t you think?”