Wolf Haas - Eternal Life

There was just one thing that did bother him. That he couldn’t concentrate. And that was what Nemec was always getting on him about, too. And Brenner didn’t know any better than to secretly admit now that Nemec was right.

Only one thing I can say about that. It was no coincidence. Nobody would’ve been able to concentrate on this case. Because there wasn’t anything there for you to set your sights on. What are you supposed to concentrate on when there’s nothing there. And another thing that’s no coincidence. That Brenner of all people, who wasn’t exactly the focused type, either, that, in the end, he of all people was the right one to have on a case like this.

Because it’s like black ice, or the way I see it, deep snow, or compare it to something else if you want. You’ll need a different gait to go forward better than you would on, say, asphalt. And here’s a person who’s way too, circumspect, let’s say, and slow, even on asphalt, but who’s possibly got an advantage in the end.

And a person who cuts a good figure eight on the asphalt like Nemec, let’s say, who marches blindly forward-a real comedy-somebody who, goes without saying, falls flat on his face right from the get-go-what a farce.

The police investigation back in January led to absolute squat. At first, beginning of January, this meant that there were two leads that they had to keep secret about. And by the end of January, they’d cleared out again, and there wasn’t any more talk of leads.

“No stone shall go unturned,” was Nemec’s motto at the beginning. Or that’s how it appeared in the PP anyway. In the Pinzgauer Post . And on top of that, get this, Nemec made it seem like he’d be smoking the culprit out of his hole within a matter of hours. Or better put:

“Smoke the culprit out of his, or her-or their-hole,” because Nemec was always jumping in and correcting everybody like that if they talked about anybody. A person need only say “he,” and she could be sure that Nemec would interrupt her:

“He or she or they.”

“Or it!” Brenner would correct Nemec again. And this in front of his coworker, Tunzinger! Because Schmeller, well, a year and a half before, during that bank robbery at the, uh, the-well, he got shot there.

Now, I don’t mean to say that Nemec had an especially meaty face. Although he is thin, skin and bones, really. But more like peptic-ulcer thin. No, not that either-more like a student. It was actually a real babyface that he had. Over forty, that I know, but if you saw him on the street, you might take him for thirty, for just a student with wire-rimmed glasses.

And maybe it’s on account of his kiddish face that a person’s apt to notice. Because when he was fed up, a blue vein thick as your finger would, believe it or not, pop up out of his forehead. And the harder he tried not to let his anger show, the thicker the blue vein on his forehead would swell up. You’d have thought that all the anger he was trying to suppress just got pumped straight into his forehead vein.

But, apart from the blue vein, he showed no reaction to the scene that Brenner made back there, I mean, him saying “it.” This was end of January already. And people already knew about it, the whole bungled mess.

Two leads starting out, but now, no leads at all anymore. And for those two leads, the police only got laughed at by the Zellers anyway.

But I have to be honest, what else were they supposed to do. Vergolder was the victims’ only blood relative, so they started with him. A motive, well-he had one. Because he’d stand to inherit a few million-and, no, not what you’re thinking, Austrian schillings. Because, America, and over there the dollar is legal tender. But since he himself owned half of Zell and since he’s not that stupid to have-I mean, his own in-laws on his own ski lift in Zell-what can I say, end of January, the police realized it, too.

Maybe, well, it wouldn’t surprise me. Maybe it just irritated Nemec that Vergolder was one of the bigwigs in town. And so they were practically asking the mayor or the priest for an alibi.

At the time, I think Nemec was already picturing himself in the newspapers, heroic exposé or something, and a photo of him alongside, Uncompromising and Incorruptible. But they couldn’t prove anything on Vergolder, and needless to say, a disgrace of the first order for Nemec. End of January, suddenly there was no more talk of Vergolder.

And the “Heidnische Kirche,” I don’t dare speak of that, because that was the second lead, but even less than nothing came of that. But Brenner must’ve been thinking about the “Heidnische Kirche” now, too, but for a different reason. Because he put his shirt back on and went out onto the balcony off his hotel room at the Hirschenwirt.

Down at the lake it was high season just a week ago, and now, just a few lone swimmers. It was the beginning of September, way too warm for this time of year, like the weatherman was always claiming. But school had started in spite of it. The vacationers disappeared overnight, only a few retirees were still here.

And Brenner, of course. He was still here, too. And this feeling he’s got-that’s why it’s so dangerous when a detective relies on his feelings. Because this feeling he had just an hour ago that gave him a sense of hope, now, as he was standing there on his balcony and looking out over the lake, he felt completely hopeless all of the sudden.

One thing’s gotta be said, a magnificent sight. And the mountains so close, you couldn’t believe there was a lake in between. He could’ve looked all the way to the reservoir now, no problem. But a wooded outcropping obstructed his view of the area, which, in the hiking maps from the old days, was called “Heidnische Kirche.”

“Heidnische Kirche” is the way the threat letters are signed that turn up in the op-ed section of the Pinzgauer Post . And the claims in these letters, I mean, listen to this, either a madman or a prankster wrote them: The Zell community ought to-just imagine, all the skiing. Shut down. The whole industry. Eradicated! And if that doesn’t happen, then the Mooser Dam, blown to pieces. That’s exactly how it was written in the letters. Signed: Heidnische Kirche.

Now, you can’t forget that here above Zell is-well, really in Glocknermassiv, but practically right over the heads of the Zellers-one of the biggest dams in all of Europe. People don’t realize this at all when they’re passing through Zell. That it’s over them-practically Damocles, if it breaks, a dam like that. Because the Mooser Dam, that’s one of the three dam walls. And it’s located practically right in the middle of this area that’s called “Heidnische Kirche.” Where the name comes from, nobody knows.

And then there’s the Drossen Dam and the Limberg Dam, too, the other two dam walls. It’s impossible, of course, for a dam to actually break. But let’s say it’s not. When it breaks, don’t even bother worrying about there being any survivors from Zell.

On the other hand. The dam’s been up there for almost fifty years because the reservoir was opened right after the war. “Symbol of the Republic,” it said in the newspaper, that was 1951 when they opened it. Nowadays, of course, you couldn’t build a reservoir high up in the mountains in just six years. Or maybe you could today, but back then, you couldn’t. The politicians, of course, didn’t lose any sleep over it, about the whole-but I don’t want to get started in on the Nazi years now.

By the twenty-five year anniversary, critical reporting was all the rage, more or less. And a few years ago, that would be 1991, that was the forty-year anniversary. They even invited a few of the Ukrainian POWs because hundreds of them had died up there on the construction site during the War. It was the Americans, then, who finished building the reservoir.