Bernhard Aichner - Woman of the Dead - A Thriller

There is no going back. She considers the chances of being seen, of dying, of spending the rest of her life behind bars. She can’t rule out any of those possibilities, but still, they won’t deter her. They are doing the right thing; Blum is convinced, and so is Reza. He will do whatever it takes, for Mark and for Blum. He is lying under a rug in the back, waiting for the vehicle to stop. Blum is driving straight to Massimo’s house in the hearse. Not the Cadillac, the minibus. They don’t want to attract attention. There is a coffin in the back, the cheapest they have.

She drives slowly to the housing estate on the outskirts of the city. Ute and Massimo had a new house built here just under seven years ago, back when everything seemed all right. Ute hadn’t taken to the bottle, they believed that the trampoline in their garden would be used, that they had a future together. Mark and Blum had been here so often for barbecues, she remembers the cheerful summer evenings they spent at their friends’ home. Ute had insisted on green paint, so it stands out from the others. The garage is open. Blum has called him again and asked him to leave the gate unlocked. She said she didn’t want to be seen visiting, not after what happened to Ute. She doesn’t want people to talk. She turns off the engine and closes the gate from inside. Reza will stay in the vehicle until Blum is in the house and Massimo is in her arms. Then he will get out, go quietly up to the house and hit him over the head with an iron bar. Once he is unconscious on the floor, they will tie him up with sticky tape, gag him, and put him in the coffin. Then they will wind blankets around him, and more tape around the coffin, to make sure there is no chance of escape.

Her doubts and fears surge back. Massimo is a police officer, it is his job to be suspicious. Perhaps he has suspected that she won’t come alone, that Reza might be with her. What if he meets her with a gun in his hand? What if he hears Reza approach? What if he pulls away from Blum and avoids Reza’s blow? Blum pictures it all: the iron bar flying through the air, Massimo fighting back, overpowering Reza.

Blum opens the door. She mustn’t think like this. Down a small corridor she goes and straight into the house. She calls his name; she is afraid, she can hear her heart thudding. She hears her heart and then his voice, coming from the kitchen. Come on in. I’ve got us a nice bottle of red. He stands in front of her, looking innocent, just a man with a bottle in his hand and the corkscrew he has used to open it. He fills two glasses while Blum stands in the doorway, smiling. She forces herself to walk over and embrace him, to kiss him on the neck. She is giving herself time; he mustn’t suspect a thing. Tenderly, she puts her lips to his filthy skin. It’s lovely to be alone, just the two of us , she whispers, turning her head. She doesn’t want this intimacy to last a second longer but she must run no risks. She scans the room for any sign of danger, anything that looks out of place. She examines his face, too, looks into his eyes and does not turn her own away. There is still time for her to run. But the face which looks back at her is the face of Mark’s best friend, not that of a crazed man in a mask. Everything is all right for now.

Massimo goes ahead into the living room and Blum follows. She must get him to put some music on, otherwise he’ll hear the door open and Reza come into the room. She says it would put her in the mood, music and candlelight. Then she takes off her jacket and throws it aside. Massimo presses a button. Louder , Blum says, drawing him away from the door into the middle of the room, leading him by the hand, making him turn. Not for a moment does he seem to suspect anything untoward. Massimo is just looking at her, wanting her, touching her. He puts out a hand to caress her cheek, and steps back for a moment; he wants to see her face. You’re so beautiful , he says. Then he draws her close again. His head is very near hers; she is putting off the moment when she will have to kiss him, she will not kiss him until she sees Reza stealing into the room. She must delay Massimo until she is sure that Reza is there to get his tongue out of her mouth. Not much longer. They dance around the room, drinking each other in. See how he nuzzles her, see how he wants her. See Blum counting the seconds and thinking that they mustn’t leave any traces behind, no blood, nothing to tell Massimo’s colleagues that this is a crime scene. They will not suspect that a policeman has been knocked out and abducted; Massimo will simply collapse on the floor. Now.

Reza strikes him. At the very moment when her lips touch Massimo’s for the last time. Reza is suddenly there; she sees his face, his anger and the iron bar that takes away her fear. There is just the dull, heavy sound of Massimo falling as though Reza had flicked a switch. The clown loses consciousness and they set to work; they have no time to think, they mustn’t linger here. Everything goes to plan: they carry him to the garage and put him in the coffin. Reza ties him up with the tape. There is no lid on the coffin, so he can see where he is when he comes round. Blum goes back into the kitchen, empties the wine down the sink and washes the glasses. She meticulously wipes everything she has touched, she switches off the music and the light and leaves the house.

This time, they drive only five kilometres. No one stops them; there’s nothing unusual about a hearse coming to a halt at a set of traffic lights; no one knows that a defenceless police officer is lying in a coffin in the back, tightly bound with sticky tape. Everything is as it should be. Reza is driving, observing all the rules of the road. They steal through the city with their cargo: Massimo Dollinger, husband of Ute Dollinger, father to no one, police officer, criminal investigation department. Only they know that he is going to die, and within the next hour. Reza and Blum don’t exchange a word. They ignore the fact that he has come round and is kicking the walls of the coffin. That doesn’t trouble them; nor does the fact he is groaning now. However loudly he shouts, however afraid he is, she remembers that Dunya’s fear was greater, and so was the fear felt by Ilena and Youn. It was much greater, wider, deeper, and lasted so much longer than the time it takes to drive through the city. In the five minutes before Reza switches off the engine, Blum remembers everything she has seen, everything Dunya told Mark. The things he did are beyond her comprehension.

They reach the car park just before midnight. There is no one there to take any notice; they park close to the gate, as they usually do. Corpses can be delivered outside opening hours; the undertakers have keys. Tonight the hearse will stay in the car park longer than usual but no one will think anything of it, because no one comes here in the middle of the night. They feel calm here, on familiar terrain. For a long time Reza used to earn extra money doing shifts here, and he knows that the only CCTV cameras are trained on the main entrance. He also knows that they will be alone here all night. It is Friday, and the building has emptied for the weekend. No one will disturb them, no one will hear Massimo kicking up a fuss: good old Massimo. He hasn’t figured out where they have brought him. He is bellowing furiously, but only groaning can be heard. He struggles in vain as they put him on a trolley and wheel him down a corridor into the main room. Slowly the truth is dawning. He desperately tries to sit up, his eyes enormous when he sees the furnace, when he hears Blum say This is the end of the line, you bastard .

They are in Innsbruck crematorium. It is on the edge of the industrial estate, a free-standing building where the dead turn to ash. It takes two and a half hours to cremate a body. Then the remains are taken out of the furnace; the nails, screws, pacemakers and artificial joints are removed by magnet and thrown away; everything else goes in a grinder. Bits of bone that haven’t burned right down, for instance, producing a sound like a coffee mill, but after a few minutes only fine ash is left. All in all, about two kilos of ash will remain, depending on the body’s size and weight. The process is clean and effective, and it doesn’t leave a trace of blood. Reza knows every process: he knows which button to press to open the furnace door and which to press to close it. He sits down at the computer for a moment and enters a number. The cremations are numbered consecutively, so he just reuses the number of the last one. No one will notice that Number 19,654 has been used twice. He smiles, because he knows that on Monday the head of the crematorium will open up, drink his coffee, read his newspaper and remain completely oblivious. He will fetch the body from the cool room, enter 19,655 into the programme, get the coffin on to the hydraulic ramp and press the button. He won’t suspect a thing because nothing will remain of Massimo Dollinger.