full, grinning. “I think.”
“But you like them.”
“True.”
“You see? Then it isn’t perverse. Being a cop, you should know how the human mind works.”
He laughed and leaned forward, patting her arm. “We need to get a drink sometime soon, just you and me.”
She nodded, got up, and walked to the window. Even though the windows were closed and the blinds were down, the thermometer read seventy-five degrees, and that was inside. She sighed and turned her thoughts back to their visitor. “Interesting, what he told us. Do you think it’s true?”
Felix knew immediately what she was thinking. “What reason would Lauberts have to lie to us? None.”
“Exactly.”
“And her mother’s statement, and the letter saying she was in love—how does that all fit together?”
“It doesn’t. These are two different things.”
“At least now we know what we need to look for.”
“Something like a list of clients.”
He nodded. “Exactly, a list of clients. Well, I wonder if we’ll have any surprises?”
He picked up the photo and studied it thoughtfully. “I can imagine she was hard to resist.”
“You can?”
“Oh, yes, looking at the picture—I’m just a man, too.”
He raised his shoulders apologetically and looked at her with big, innocent eyes. She thought of Port and what he’d said, and in some far corner of her brain she wondered whether he was on the list, too . . .
“So what have we got,” Felix said. “On the one hand prostitution and on the other, true love. Thank God she got to experience that, too.”
“Poor girl. Don’t you think, Felix? All those crazy locations—that’s just crying out: ‘I want to be discovered! Why won’t you find me?!’ What a legacy to inherit from your grandfather.”
Franza paused for a moment. “We should try to spare her mother all this.”
Felix nodded.
“We also need to check her finances as soon as possible to get a better picture of her . . . job .”
Felix nodded again, slowly, thinking. “And her boyfriend, I mean her real boyfriend, I wonder who he is? We really need to find him.”
“Which won’t be easy.”
“Why not? She was living with other young people after all, and they would gossip and share secrets, wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t think she’d have paraded him around much. The way I see our girl at this stage, she would have kept him secret, like the rest of her life basically. And if he hasn’t reached out to us by now, I don’t think he’ll contact us at all.”
“Which doesn’t really reflect well on him. I mean, you kind of notice when you can’t get hold of your girlfriend anymore. And if you have nothing to hide, at some point you start looking, you go to the police for help—but that point has come and gone, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, realizing she was thinking of Ben. Somewhere deep down in her heart she was thinking of Ben, and she was surprised.
“Maybe he discovered her double life and snapped. Don’t you think that’s a possibility?”
She remained silent, gazing into thin air, and he tapped her on the shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
She came back. “Yes,” she said. “Of course that’s a possibility. What about Lauberts?”
“What?”
“His alibi without an alibi.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t made up my mind about him yet. But at least he came in voluntarily.”
Franza shrugged. “Could’ve been calculated, a strategy.”
“Yes,” he said. “One of us should be present tomorrow when they take his statement and give him another good grilling.”
He took a sip of the Coke and made a face. “This is disgusting, warm as hell. We really need a coffeemaker.”
Franza nodded. Then the phone rang on her desk. She picked it up and listened. “I’ve got to go,” she said. “Marie’s mother’s a little early. She’s waiting downstairs.”
28
Her husband was with her.
If Franza had harbored the least suspicion he had
“But you like them.”
“True.”
“You see? Then it isn’t perverse. Being a cop, you should know how the human mind works.”
He laughed and leaned forward, patting her arm. “We need to get a drink sometime soon, just you and me.”
She nodded, got up, and walked to the window. Even though the windows were closed and the blinds were down, the thermometer read seventy-five degrees, and that was inside. She sighed and turned her thoughts back to their visitor. “Interesting, what he told us. Do you think it’s true?”
Felix knew immediately what she was thinking. “What reason would Lauberts have to lie to us? None.”
“Exactly.”
“And her mother’s statement, and the letter saying she was in love—how does that all fit together?”
“It doesn’t. These are two different things.”
“At least now we know what we need to look for.”
“Something like a list of clients.”
He nodded. “Exactly, a list of clients. Well, I wonder if we’ll have any surprises?”
He picked up the photo and studied it thoughtfully. “I can imagine she was hard to resist.”
“You can?”
“Oh, yes, looking at the picture—I’m just a man, too.”
He raised his shoulders apologetically and looked at her with big, innocent eyes. She thought of Port and what he’d said, and in some far corner of her brain she wondered whether he was on the list, too . . .
“So what have we got,” Felix said. “On the one hand prostitution and on the other, true love. Thank God she got to experience that, too.”
“Poor girl. Don’t you think, Felix? All those crazy locations—that’s just crying out: ‘I want to be discovered! Why won’t you find me?!’ What a legacy to inherit from your grandfather.”
Franza paused for a moment. “We should try to spare her mother all this.”
Felix nodded.
“We also need to check her finances as soon as possible to get a better picture of her . . . job .”
Felix nodded again, slowly, thinking. “And her boyfriend, I mean her real boyfriend, I wonder who he is? We really need to find him.”
“Which won’t be easy.”
“Why not? She was living with other young people after all, and they would gossip and share secrets, wouldn’t they?”
“I don’t think she’d have paraded him around much. The way I see our girl at this stage, she would have kept him secret, like the rest of her life basically. And if he hasn’t reached out to us by now, I don’t think he’ll contact us at all.”
“Which doesn’t really reflect well on him. I mean, you kind of notice when you can’t get hold of your girlfriend anymore. And if you have nothing to hide, at some point you start looking, you go to the police for help—but that point has come and gone, don’t you think?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, realizing she was thinking of Ben. Somewhere deep down in her heart she was thinking of Ben, and she was surprised.
“Maybe he discovered her double life and snapped. Don’t you think that’s a possibility?”
She remained silent, gazing into thin air, and he tapped her on the shoulder. “What’s the matter?”
She came back. “Yes,” she said. “Of course that’s a possibility. What about Lauberts?”
“What?”
“His alibi without an alibi.”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. I haven’t made up my mind about him yet. But at least he came in voluntarily.”
Franza shrugged. “Could’ve been calculated, a strategy.”
“Yes,” he said. “One of us should be present tomorrow when they take his statement and give him another good grilling.”
He took a sip of the Coke and made a face. “This is disgusting, warm as hell. We really need a coffeemaker.”
Franza nodded. Then the phone rang on her desk. She picked it up and listened. “I’ve got to go,” she said. “Marie’s mother’s a little early. She’s waiting downstairs.”
28
Her husband was with her.
If Franza had harbored the least suspicion he had
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