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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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.
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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…‟.
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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.
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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
59
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
60
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
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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
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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
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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.
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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.
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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?”
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“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.
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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.
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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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101
germany
Chapter 6
102
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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.
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“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?”