Too Pretty For The Hills Read online

  The best friend she’d ever had was packed in that plastic and would never be back.

  And now the killer was coming for her.

  29

  ''Here? The clown was chasing you down here?''

  Dora was sitting at a big oval table in a boarded-up kitchen, her face as bloated as the porridge in the bowl in front of her, of which she hadn’t eaten a single spoon. She was leaning on her elbows and staring down at the map of Graufirst but not actually seeing it.

  ''Was it here?''

  A grey-haired agent with a solemn face was sitting by her side.

  ''I’m sorry ... What?'' she mumbled.

  ''You said that you were chased down a narrow passage between some houses. Was this it?''

  She turned her bloodshot eyes to where he had been pointing on the map and then looked at the picture beside it. She nodded, and the agent took some notes on a sheet of paper that was already almost full.

  ''Okay. And then you made a right, correct?''

  Rike was sitting on a stool to the side, her legs crossed, pretending to be reading over a file.

  The next room was far more crowded. All the seats were occupied, and not everyone had a chair. In the front of this morose audience stood their chief, Deputy Director Mallek, with his uneven stubble, glasses, and manically chewing jaws. He was livid.

  ''For the love of fucking - fucking - fucking God!'' he sneered, flicking the white board behind him with his fingers, until it finally fliped over and revealed the second side filled with some schemes and other writing. ''How the hell could he have followed her at high speed in his car without any one of you seeing him, or God forbid stopping him, firing shots, calling for backup, or anything else? And then just disappear into thin air? Am I going crazy here?''

  He glowered at the people, around him. One of the agents cleared his throat and spoke up uneasily.

  ''Sir, no offence, but between storming his house and the church we simply had no spare men left on the streets.''

  ''That’s right, sir,'' the presumptive Mr. Ziegler said, dropping all pretense of his previous cosmopolitanism. ''Plus the rioting and looting. There was a window of opportunity and the guy took it.''

  Mallek must have known deep down they were right. He should never have allocated so much manpower to one location. Still, he wasn’t going to admit this reckless error of his out loud.

  ''I can’t believe this,'' he said. ''I can’t believe that this measly little altar boy has been dodging us for more than four months! He’s made us look like a bunch of idiots!''

  He turned to the white board, wrote the vicar’s name on it, and then just stood there helplessly, his hand clutching the raised marker but writing nothing else. Finally he hurled it into the garbage can.

  ''I’ve been hunting criminals all my life. Some of you have been there with me. Been all over Europe, worked with some very twisted fuckers that I’ve had to seriously restrain myself from destroying them with my bare hands. Pedophiles, serial killers, sadists, psychopaths, arsonists, terrorists, you name it. People whose sole purpose in life is to cause pain and suffering to others. And let me tell you, never before have we had to dedicate so many resources to apprehending someone, nor have we ever had so many opportunities slip through our fingers. And we’re still not done! For all this time this deranged Father Flanagan has been hiding in plain sight, right under our noses and laughing in our faces!''

  ''He’s impish, sir,'' one of the men, a broad fellow with a mustache and a five-star frown, spoke up. ''But his luck will run out eventually.''

  ''Oh, it will, will it? And when exactly do you suppose that will be, Agent Terzieck? After he’s done raping all the women on the county tax rolls? People, I refuse to believe that this man is so damn smart. Christ, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you were purposely letting him get away!''

  And with that, a flash of paranoia shot over his face, as if he were actually considering the idea that his men were intentionally sabotaging his operation.

  Suddenly, all eyes turned to the doorway as another agent wearing jeans and suspenders entered the room. He stopped, looked at Mallek and shook his head. ''The Kundert brothers haven’t seen him either. They promised to have a look around and call me if ...''

  ''Great!'' Malled barked. ''Just fucking great! No sign of the vicar, no sign of the grey car, no-one knows anything, the townfolks can’t even fucking ...''

  ''I want to help.''

  Mallek winced.

  ''I want to help,'' Dora repeated in a quiet but determined voice. She was standing by the doorframe. ''I don’t know if you have any use for me any more but if there’s a way, I want to help bring this horrible man down. I want him to be caught. I want him to suffer. If you can make that happen, I’ll do whatever you want.''

  Clearly this was no longer the innocent nanny that had arrived in town three days earlier. This was something else entirely.

  ''I’m very glad to hear that,'' Detective Mallek responded, motioning to one of his men to give her his place. ''Please, join us.''

  As she sat down, she caught Nicolaus gazing at her from across the room.

  ''This man …'' Detective Mallek continued, spitting the word out as if he could think of a number of other, more suitable terms he’d rather use. ''Ever since Dora’s arrival he’s been stalking her relentlessly, but so far she’s the one itch he hasn’t been able to scratch. And you can bet your asses he’ll do everything to get to her, or die trying.'' He nodded and looked at Dora, folding his arms across his chest. ''So what if we use his fixation on her? I know the term ‘bait’ has been thrown around before, but never quite like this.''

  It appeared that he had given a lot of thought to this already. Dora couldn’t help but wonder whether he had put on this whole show just to gain her cooperation.

  ''You’re sick of us using you to catch this guy, aren’t you, Miss Dora?’’ he continued. ‘‘And in light of your recent stunt, it wouldn’t be all that strange if you bolted again, now would it? Only this time, what if you were actually successful?''

  His Dick-Tracy-on-steroids impersonation was comical by any standards, but no one laughed.

  ''Say you made another break for it in one of our cars. Now that’s rather convincing, isn’t it? Two of our agents pursue you at high speed but manage to get into a rather clumsy accident. And then let’s say you abandon the vehicle a couple of streets over and run into some random, abandoned house. Only the house isn’t random at all. Our men are hiding there, ready to strike as soon as our target comes in after you.''

  ''I’m sorry, sir,'' Nicolaus suddenly exploded, leaping to his feet, ‘‘but I can’t hold my tongue any longer! He’s almost gotten to her multiple times and his attempts are getting more and more desperate! Who’s to say he won’t just shoot her next time before she even gets out of the car?''

  ''You and I both know that isn’t going to happen. He needs the sexual part, it’s essential. Remember, he has sex with them while they’re still alive.''

  ''What about her friend, Katja? He didn’t rape her.’’

  ''Didn’t have time — we disrupted his plans. This is the very point I’m trying to make. Think about it. With his growing urge still unsatisfied, he’ll be even more reckless now than before. He won’t be able to resist.''

  ''And you’re OK with this?’’ Nicolaus wailed, turning to Dora but getting no response. ''Jesus Christ! Well then I won’t allow it! It’s suicide!''

  ''She won’t be in any real danger, Agent Kovacz. We’ll be stationed at every point along the way. And once he enters the house, which he will, he’ll either surrender immediately or we’ll blast him straight to hell.’’

  ''No! No way! She’s not doing it, period!''

  Detective Mallek grimaced. ‘‘I’m sorry, could you run that by me again?’’

  ''I’m sorry,'' Nicolaus retorted angrily, ''but I care for her and don’t see how we can just gamble with her life like that.''

  ''Oh, you care for her all right! Need I remind you
, Agent Kovacz, that if you’d been looking after her like you should have …''

  ''She got away!''

  ''So she’s a two-hundred-and-fifty pound black belt and you’re a thirteen-year-old girl scout, or what?''

  Several agents laughed out loud. Nicolaus blushed.

  ''No, it’s because we only had the one car,'' he growled. ''Plus you don’t know her. She’s a firecracker.''

  ''But I do know her. That is precisely why I’m so confident she’ll be up to it. She’s strong, capable, and stubborn as hell. I know she can handle it.'' Detective Mallek paused and looked over at Dora. ‘‘Still, in the end, it doesn’t really matter what either of us thinks. The decision is hers.''

  All eyes again turned to her. She slowly looked around at all those faces, most of which she couldn’t even put a name to. But she knew she had to trust them. Not that they necessarily inspired so much confidence, but that was beside the point. However things might have been before, a line had been crossed. It wasn’t about her own safety anymore. It was about what she owed her best friend.

  ‘‘I’m ready.’’

  A muffled sigh went around the room.

  ''This is going to end badly,’’ Nicolaus said bitterly, ‘‘mark my words.''

  ''Consider them marked. Now sit your ass down.''

  In the hour and a half that followed, Detective Mallek laid out his plan in minute detail, dissecting trivialities that Dora would have never even thought of. It looked like whatever might happen, nothing would be left to chance.

  At some point, she was instructed to go to bed and rest. Nicolaus wanted to escort her upstairs, but Mallek angrily ordered him to stay put.

  Apparently the house they were using as headquarters belonged to one Deputy Katzer. In addition to being the town’s only remaining police officer now that the sheriff was incapacitated, he was also one of the four law men to survive the shooting.

  Katzer showed Dora to a small bedroom upstairs that looked like it was from the set of One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest — cement walls, a single, bricked up window, and locks both on the inside and outside of the door.

  ''Sorry, Ma’am,’’ he said sympathetically. ‘‘They wanted to be sure.’’

  ''Well, unless this guy’s related to David Copperfield, I think I’m safe here,'' Dora muttered, resigning herself to her accommodations. ''Thank you, deputy, I think I’ll just lie down now.''

  But he didn’t leave.

  ''I came up here with you for a reason,'' he said, pausing for a moment and listening before continuing in a quieter but palpably uneasy voice. ''I know this is going to sound crazy, but I ... I have reason to believe it wasn’t the vicar that shot up that house.''

  Dora thought she misheard.

  ''I’m sorry?''

  ''Ever since we heard back from the sheriff about who the shooter was, I’ve been skeptical. What happened in the house is a bit of a blur for me. Shots started ringing out and I saw two guys take headshots right in front of me.’’

  Katzer had to pause for a moment. His facial muscles were twitching.

  ''The sheriff was lying on the floor before I knew it, and I dove into the next room for cover. I just chickened out. I’d never had to fire my gun before in the line of duty. Then I heard a couple more shots from upstairs, but luckily that Ziegler lady didn’t get hit. I heard her shouting if anyone was still alive. She was hiding in the kitchen. I spoke up, and she came for me and helped me up, told me that I was going to be okay. And then she called for backup and led the way upstairs, where we found the kids and saw someone running across the lawn. Whoever it was must have jumped off the roof. We fired at him but he was too far away.''

  Deputy Katzer rubbed his face nervously and looked Dora straight in the eyes. ''For a moment there, as he was running away, I think I saw who he was. Or at least I got a glimpse. All I saw was a silhouette, but it damn sure didn’t resemble any vicar I know! Whoever it was was tall and well-built. Not to mention I’ve known Father Waumer all my life and I’m pretty sure he’d be the last fellow to kill anyone.''

  Dora bristled.

  ''Have you told this to anyone else?''

  ''I told two of Mallek’s bulldogs, but they all treat me like a child.''

  ''But the sheriff said ...''

  ''I know what he said, but I’ve worked with him for a couple of years now and, well, he likes his bottle, let’s put it that way, and his eyesight’s not too great either. And in the state he’s in right now...hell, he’s barely lucid.’’

  Bruno Katzer was a young cop on a small town police force without the background and training of his more seasoned, cosmopolitan colleagues. He was holding up as well as he could, but he was obviously terrified.

  ''But then how did the vicar know my name?’’

  ''I don’t know nothing about any of that,'' Katzer said. ''All I know is I think the sheriff made a mistake and then someone went and ... This is going to sound crazy, but I’ve been thinking about this, and I don’t see how a killer would just stash the body of his latest victim in his own cabinet. If anything it looks more like a frame job than something an actual ...''

  Suddenly the door opened. It was Nicolaus.

  ''What’s going on up here?'' he asked sternly.

  ''Just showing Miss Dora around, sir,'' Katzer said unconvincingly. ''Anyway, if you need anything, I’ll be downstairs.’’ He nodded at Nicolaus timidly and excused himself.

  ''So you’re really going through with this, Dora?’’ Nicolaus growled as soon as Katzer was out of earshot. ‘‘I mean, for fuck’s sake. I’ve never seen a worse plan, I don’t care what Mallek sais. This nut-job could take a shot at you from any one of the houses as you drive by. What’s to guarantee he won’t settle for killing you without getting the goods first, like he did with your friend …’’ He paused for a moment, regretting he had mentioned Katja. ''I’m sorry,’’ he said. ‘‘That was really insensitive of me. But damn it, I’m half sure Mallek’s doing this to get revenge on me for standing up to him!''

  Dora stared blindly into the hallway.

  ''What if it wasn’t him?'' she said quietly.

  ''What? No, It’s Mallek that calls the shots. He’s in charge of the whole operation.''

  ''No, I mean ... What if it’s not the vicar.''

  Nicolaus looked at her, unsure for a moment whether she was serious.

  ''The sheriff is old,’’ Dora continued, ‘‘and everyone keeps saying he’s a notorious drunk. And with all the panic and commotion, what if he didn’t see right? What if it wasn’t the vicar who shot all those agents and raped and killed all those girls?''

  In the silence that ensued, they could hear Mallek angrily preaching downstairs.

  ''Are you serious?'' Nicolaus said, scowling. ''Of course it was him! The sheriff may be a drunk but he’s not on crack! He saw the vicar, no doubt about it! Plus your friend was found in the man’s closet, and you even said he knew your name by the time you met him.''

  ''But isn’t it all a bit too...I don’t know...convenient? I mean why would he put her body in his closet down at the church?''

  ''Because we disrupted his protocol and he just stored it where he could. We were hot on his trail and he sniffed it out. Fugitive’s intuition.''

  ''Why was he wearing a mask then, when coming at me in his car?''

  ''To not be recognized?''

  ''But didn’t he know you were after him by that time?''

  Nicolaus didn’t say anything.

  ''Isn’t it at least possible someone’s framing him?''

  He snorted. ''Framing him?''

  ''Or maybe someone’s been helping him all this time and now they’ve turned their back on him.''

  ''If he has accomplices, we’ll get them too after catching and interrogating him.''

  ''But what if ...''

  ''Dora, stop! Where’s this coming from, all of a sudden? Are you finally coming to your senses about this whole ludicrous plan? Because if you’re getting cold feet, I support you one hundre
d procent!''

  ''No. That’s not it.''

  Nicolaus sat on the bed, stood back up, then sat back down again. ''Dora, now you listen to me and you listen good. We’re all at our wit’s end right now. Not just you, all of us. And it’s at times like these that we have to remain steadfast.''

  One of the agents called for him from downstairs. Nicolaus stood up.

  ''Listen, if you change your mind about this operation, I’m with you all the way. Get some sleep, Dora.’’

  He stepped out of the room, quietly closed the door and locked it from the outside.

  30

  There was no telling what time it was, and there wasn’t enough light in the room to see a clock even if one had been there.

  Dora’s night terrors were reality and her reality was the night terrors. She slept because she was too tired not to, but the worry-infused sleep tired her out still further.

  The majority of the night and the events that followed in the indiscernible morning were like a strange blob, as if time itself had mutated. At certain times, seconds dragged on for minutes and minutes for hours, while at other times the pattern was exactly reversed.

  It was an unknown agent that came and woke her up from her dizzy half-lucid trance, and the next hour and a half flashed by in an instant with only vague traces remaining in memory — someone’s cowlick, Mallek’s nicotine breath as he walked her through the plan two more times, Rike massaging her shoulders to help calm her down. Otherwise Dora could recall nothing.

  She apparently also had something to eat at some point but apart from a burning throat and some stains on her collar after throwing it up, she had little to show for it.

  ''Don’t worry, Dora, everything’s gonna run smoothly.''

  Next to her was Dominic Ziegler, sitting at the kitchen table and cleaning his disassembled gun.

  ''Dominic?'' she said, half-expecting a giant stuffed bear to appear from somewhere.

  ''It’s Agent Kiefer, actually. I’ve been assigned to chase you today in one of the cars and I can honestly tell you ...''