Ursula Archer - Five

‘Of course, people who visit the hotel café could theoretically use it too,’ explained the hotel manager. ‘It’s part of our service, you see?’

‘And if I were to ask you who used the computer on the twenty-sixth of February at 15.42, would you be able to tell me?’

‘I’m afraid not.’ If the manager’s regret wasn’t genuine, he at least acted it well.

‘I understand. The man we’re looking for must have also used the computer on the ninth, fourteenth and twentieth of March, and then a final time on the third of April. So it’s possible that someone may have noticed him.’

‘That’s true. I’ll check right away who was on duty in the café on those dates, then give you a call back.’

They were clutching at straws, nothing more than that.

And to the rest of you: TFTH . The Owner had known three months ago that he would kill Liebscher at the very least. He had thanked his pursuers for the hunt before they had even begun.

To Beatrice’s surprise, the hotel manager called back twenty minutes later. When the telephone rang she was talking to Bechner, asking him to check whether there might be another Gerold Wiesner who could be a suspect – she seemed to automatically assign all the menial tasks to him.

‘On two of the days you mentioned, Georg Lienhart was on duty,’ explained the manager. ‘He said he did notice someone. The dates may match up.’

‘Excellent!’ Beatrice signalled to Bechner, who was trying to use the opportunity to head back to his own office, that they weren’t yet finished. He sighed demonstratively; she beamed at him equally demonstratively.

‘Can I speak to Herr Lienhart?’

‘Yes, he’s right here.’

The waiter sounded very young, but on the ball. ‘There was this really tall man with a beard, and he never took his coat off even though it’s really well heated here. He ordered coffee and drank it really quickly, each time at the table next to the computer. Then he paid right away and left much more of a tip than most guests do.’ The boy fell silent for a moment, perhaps thinking about his unexpected financial windfall from the stranger. ‘Then he sat down at the computer and went to great lengths to spread himself out as much as he could, if you see what I mean. I thought right away that he’d kept his coat on for that reason, so it would be easier for him to keep the screen hidden.’

‘You didn’t happen to catch a glimpse of it regardless, by any chance?’

‘We’re told to be discreet.’

Beatrice could almost picture the young waiter in front of her, including his grin. ‘But you did it anyway, in keeping with the need for discretion, of course?’

Georg Lienhart hesitated. ‘No. Although I was of course curious about what all the secrecy was for. That’s why, after the man came back the second time, I opened up the browser history and had a look.’

Fantastic. ‘And?’

‘I couldn’t find anything, unfortunately. The whole session was erased.’

Beatrice ran her hand through her hair and tried to suppress the irritation welling up inside her. But it didn’t matter. It spoke volumes that the man had erased everything which could provide clues as to what he was doing.

‘You’ve been a great help. Now I just need to ask you for a description of the guest, as precise as you can be. Any detail you remember could be very important.’

The young man gathered his thoughts. ‘The coat he had on was dark blue, and his shoes were black. I noticed that because they didn’t match, although the items looked very expensive. He had pale gloves on, and a pale scarf.’

‘Can you remember his hair colour?’

‘He was bald. Completely, as if he was ill. But his beard was brown with a bit of grey. He had a full beard, a really thick one.’

If only all our witnesses had such good memories . ‘You’re doing a great job, really. Is there anything else that stood out? Birthmarks, warts, tattoos?’

He thought again before giving his answer. ‘No. All I really saw was his head and face, so if he had a tattoo on his arm, I don’t…’

‘Of course.’

‘He said something strange though. Probably that’s why I remember him so well… and because it fits in with what’s happening now. At the time I thought he was crazy.’

Beatrice leant back. ‘Yes?’

‘He said: “It’s possible that they might ask about me. If they do, tell them they could be making life much easier for themselves. And tell them: Thanks for the hunt .”’

The sky above him was blue, and the swallows were soaring high. The weather was good, and would probably hold for another two or three days.

Days of waiting. His thoughts wandered to the policewoman, as they often had recently. It couldn’t last much longer now, if she had followed his clues, if she had finally understood them.

Looking up at the sky made him dizzy, almost making him stumble. Take it easy, be careful , he reminded himself. The thought wasn’t without a comic element. It was a shame he couldn’t share it with anyone.

Except the woman, perhaps. Everything was ready. He was throwing the fingerless man out as bait. His predators would fall into the trap; they had no other option.

He waited until his senses were obeying him again, then looked upwards. Directly above him, an aeroplane was sketching its white line in the perfect blue, a long minus sign which frayed out at the end, dissolving, dissipating. Five minus two was three, minus one…

It couldn’t be avoided. With a shrug of his shoulders, he let the sky be sky and turned his attention to more earthly matters. Severity. Blood. Pain.

The past weeks had been filled with those things. The most surprising realisation he had drawn from his experiences was just how much reality could differ from imagination.

Not when it came to the plan itself. That had gone perfectly. But in practice, the action felt so different from any fantasy.

He looked around one more time before he went back into the darkness, smiling into the strengthening breeze. So beautiful .

Someone sighed, and it took him the duration of a heartbeat to realise it had been him. A man who had to go back to his work. Brutal, harsh, gruesome, painful. Not willingly, never willingly – how could he? But it was the safest way. Everything was ready; there was no reason to wait any longer.

After he had done what was necessary, just two hours had passed by. He was getting better at it. It wasn’t even that difficult any more.

He cleaned up, using three buckets full of water to dispose of the blood. Good . Now just the message. The picture had turned out well, even though the sight of it almost winded him. He gasped for air and waited until he felt better, then put the mobile in one pocket and the battery in the other. Looked for and found the car keys. There was no rush. He could take his time. Ten or fifteen kilometres would be enough. Then back. And sleep, at last.

Jakob kissed and hugged her before he disappeared back to the neighbours’ farm, but Mina was querulous. She reminded Beatrice of herself at that age, almost thirty years ago now. Or even just thirty minutes ago. She’s a smaller version of me. Maybe that’s why we clash , she thought.

‘If you don’t have any time for us, you can give us to Papa. He likes having us there, he told us.’

‘I thought you liked being with Oma?’

‘I do. But…’ She panted for air, and for the words. ‘You always say it’s just for a few days, and then it’s always much longer, every time.’

If this was Mina’s way of telling her mother she missed her, then she was doing her best at hiding it. Everything she said came out as an accusation.