Mineira1986 wrote: ↑3 years ago
Mental note: I have to visit the site more often.
I love the two last chapters! I'm still surprised Christine was so naive and fell into that one. I really liked the tying description. Hopefully, the three girls will keep being naive in the future hehe
Keep it coming!
Will do [mention]Mineira1986[/mention]
![Smile :)](./images/smilies/icon_e_smile.gif)
You are right, Christine is sometimes a little to trusty but as you will see the bad guys are not imune to that bug either
Chapter VIII is a rather long one, I hope you do not mind
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Chapter VIII:
Westerland – Wenningstedt –Braderup Keitum:
Anna's gaze followed Christine for a moment, as she ascended the stairs to the Town Hall. “Kate, what do you think?” “We are rather early, so why don´t we use the time and I show you more of the Island. We can blend in better in Keitum, when more of our fellow tourists crowd the streets anyway."
Kate thought for a moment, and then nodded. “Lead the way, Grand Duchess!”
They drove along the Norderstraße, which connects Westerland with Wenningstedt. Behind those buildings in the West the dunes and the beaches stretched from North to South. They passed a large red brick building on the left. “The Nordseeklinik”, and reached Wenningstedt.
“Both municipalities do nearly blend in each other now”, Anna explained. On the left and on the right, they saw many rather new houses which copied the traditional Frisian Style, but in form only,
Kate looked curiously around: “Who owns these places?”
Anna gives a sour look, before she grumbled, "Mostly not Syltians, but Investors who buy old houses tear them down and build flashy, expensive new houses instead”
Turning east, they crossed the main road, which ran across the Island from north to south. “On the left” Anna pointed out of the Window to a black and white striped Lighthouse, you see the “Langer Christian”.
The east of the Island was much different from the north and the west, as Kate saw. Much heath, small woods, greener and less austere than the north and the west.
Ten minutes later they passed a Church on the left, its red brick tower and pristine white nave a stark contrast to the yellow rasp fields around. “This is our target, St. Severin, I propose, we leave our car inside the Village and take a stroll through beautiful Keitum – easier to see, if we are followed then." Anna explained.
They left the car at a parking lot in the centre and enjoyed the village and its quaint Frisian Houses for a while and pursued their way north. Kate and Anna blended in perfectly: Kate hat chosen a blue Barbour-Down-Jacket. Wide enough to conceal her gun, blue jeans, which ended above the ankles and Sneakers from Timberland.
Anna had opted for Country Style from Burberry from head to toe. “Tell me Anna”, what do you carry around in that large shoulder bag?” Kate asked her friend. “All things a girl might need on days like this”, the Violinist replied a little cryptically. “You know, preparation is everything!”
Kate and Anna had walked along the Alter Kirchenweg on the east side of Keitum from the Friesenmuseum to St. Severin. At the crossroads a street led up to the Church with its characteristic tower of red brick. A lot of Tourists filled the streets, so the two blended in perfectly.
They walked, appearing care free, but their senses were alert for trouble. Anna's hackles rised noticing the woman pretending not to notice them for the third time, since they had been walking.
“Do not turn around Kate, we are being followed.”, Anna said, quietly.
“You mean the tall blonde with the brown cap and the sun glasses?” her partner replied pointing at St. Severin, as if pointing out some architectural detail. Most observers would have thought that they had not noticed that they were followed.
“Looks like a pro to me.” Anna added, “She is very good.”
“I must give her that”, Kate agreed. “Why don't we walk to St, Severin, then we'll see if she follows us and perhaps we invite her to have a little chat with us.”
A short while later the duo entered the Churchyard. On the Southside of the Church they took a look at the Tombstones that laid there in a row, like ordinary tourists would do. “These are “Sprechende Steine”, speaking stones”, Anna explained in a clear carrying voice, to her American Friend. “They tell the story of the deceased, a common practise on the Frisian Islands.”
“She is still behind us.” Kate whispered. “Let us go into the church and then on the graveyard to pay Reinefarth our respects. Then we will see”, Anna proposed.
They entered the church on the north side and stood in the white nave in front of the Altar. “Beautiful”, Kate was fascinated. “At any other time, I would like to tarry here for while”.
“The acoustics are wonderful. The Organ Concertos are famous”, Anna explained. “I played a recital here two years ago. Only the candles of the brass chandeliers were lit. With no artificial light it is a very different and intimate atmosphere.” “Especially in the winter, then the storms howl outside around the building.”
They prayed in silence, heads bowed. And lit a candle for Peter –and Kate one for her mother. “Requiescat in Pace” She spoke softly she always had found the sound of that Latin phrase strangely comforting.
A few minutes later they left the church. And made a stroll around the Graveyard. Casually, without any obvious haste.
“She is standing at the Entrance.” “How do we do this?” asked Kate “Simple: You play the dumb American got lost and asking for directions”, Anna grinned “that should distract her enough, so I can sneak up on her from behind.”
Susanne von Stülpnagel looked around. She had followed her targets to the church. She saw that the two Detectives seemed to have a heated argument. The dark haired violinist threw her arms up in the air, turned abruptly on her heel and stomped away.
The American seemed a little stunned, by the sudden departure of her friend. She looked around, as if searching something or someone. She spotted Susanne walking to her.
"Es tut Mir lied, ich suche, er." Kate slumped her shoulders defeated, "Sorry do you speak English?"
Susanne smiled to herself, thinking, "Like taking candy from a baby." she beamed at Kate and responded, "Of course, dear. Are you alright?"
“Not really, my friend has left me, and I do not know how I get back to the Friesenmuseum again, can you please show me the way, please?” Kate looked pleadingly at Susanne.
“Of course”, Susanne replied warmly. “You have to go this way” and pointed in the other direction. "I am going that way, why don't I show you."
"Thank you so much." Kate said, gratefully. Before coughing twice, to signal to her concealed compatriot that the woman is armed with a gun.
Kate allowed Susanne to take the lead, but deliberately slows her pace of walking, as she began to talk, "Sylt is so beautiful, my husband would love it. Although he would probably dress up......."
Susanne had already stopped listening, engrossed with her own thoughts, "God help me, this woman is insufferable. This is a Captain of the NYPD? Americans! I am just pleased that I can shut her up permanently any time."
Suddenly Susanne sensed a rustle of fabric behind her, but reacted too late. She tried to duck forward but, the iron grip of the arms around her, held her fast.
Anna twisted her leg out of the way, avoiding a backward kick from Susanne left heel. On instinct she kicked the back of the woman's right leg, dropping her to her knees.
Susanne tried to scream, but the cloth pressed tightly to her face by the American stifled her cries.
“Chloroform”, she thought, twisting to get lose, but the iron grip of the attacker behind her was too strong.
“Do not fight it.”, she heared a soft voice in her ear. “You are going down, one way or the other, so do yourself a favour and be a good girl and take long deep breaths.”
To her own surprise, Susanne did that. Her arms and legs were tingling now; her strength was drained from the Chloroform. She gave in. At last her eyes rolled back. Kate pressed the Chloroform saturated cloth a few seconds longer on Susanne’s face, till she was sure that the woman was totally under.
Miraculously the churchyard was still empty. Kate and Anna carried the unconscious woman behind a few trees, out of sight. A quick search produced a smartphone, a purse, zip ties - and no wonder – a gun, Kate identified as a SigSauer.
The purse held no clues on the identity of the woman. None. “Okay”, Anna said: “We take the phone, pull the magazine out of the Sig. Then we secure our guest.”
“She will be out cold at least two hours. More than enough time for us to get on tour.” Kate grins: “Shall we make her comfortable now?”
"Of course!” Anna says, with a devious glint in her eyes.
Fifteen minutes later Susanne lays hogtied on the grass. Sleeping the sleep of the chloroformed still.
Her wrists were secured with three zip ties around them and another wound between her wrists to cinch them tightly together. Her ankles and knees were secured similarly.
A thick tree two meter branch had been threaded between her arms and her back and zip tied to her elbows, preventing her from rolling over. As a finish Anna tied her big toes together with one of her shoe laces.
The woman's belt had been used to secure her ankles to the branch, between her elbows. A thick stubby branch had been jammed in her mouth, between her teeth and secured with a zip tie pulled tightly. Kate had rolled one sock around the branch first. “Something for you, to chew on.”
Kate and Anna covered her behind some trees, minus her shoes and socks.
Kate couldn´t suppress a grin: “Payback is a bitch.” “Wait”, Anna says, a diabolical grin curling her lips. She produced a tube with ointment out of the depths of her shoulder bag. “Finalgon”, Kate reads.
“You know, she will get cold feet and we do not want that, don´t we? “This ointment is normally used against back pain. “Our friend here”, Anna pointed at the sleeping Susanne, will get very hot feet!”
“May I have the privilege to care for the poor feet of our guest?” Kate asked Anna. “Be my guest! Anna replied graciously – Kate took the tube and set to work.”
Anna grabbed a second time into her bag, this time she holds a Powder dose in her hand. “Spiced up itching powder – and I know just the right place where to put some.” Anna couldn´t supress a wicked grin.
10 Minutes later:
“So now: Let us visit Uncle Heinz!” ventured Anna. A short time later they stood before the gravesite. “Where might Peter have hidden his secrets?"
They looked down on the grave. Kate pointed at the Gravestone. “Someone has dug here recently.” Anna takes a probe out of her large shoulder bag.
The probe easily penetrated the earth striking nothing. Kate looked at the gravestone, walking slowly around it.
The rough-hewn granite showed some signs of wear, but the wear is uneven toward the base of the rear of the stone. "Almost looks like a different type of stone." She snaps a quick photo with her phone.
“Now or never”, Anna said – and produced a small collapsible spade from her bag, but Kate stops her, "May I."
Anna gives a bow and passes her the spade. Kate used its edge to trace a line around the out of place rock on the stone and leveraged it slowly out.
Kate looks around nervously. “Do you think it a good idea to get caught plundering a grave in open daylight?”
“Naah”, Anna says. “The gods are with the bold!”
After a little coaxing the spade eased the stone out of its place. “Jackpot.”, Anna whistled softly through her teeth, staring at the metal box, Kate extracts from the hole. “Fairly heavy”, she mused.
They pushed the stone back into place and ruffle the grass, checking the photo Kate took before she started work on it. "I have been to so many crime scenes, it is easy to cover one up."
“Shall we leave before sleeping beauty awakes?”, Anna grins. “I really would like to see her face, when she awakes!” “And tastes her own sock”, Kate added cheerily.
They left the Churchyard, chatting amiably, as they were ordinary tourists, which they really were - partly.
20 Minutes later, they were on their way to Westerland. Anna got worried when she tried to reach Christine but only got her voicemail.
Wennigstedt, Gosch am Kliff:
Since she was a bit early, Christine decided to have a Coffee at a darling little place at Gosch´s am Kliff. From the Patio there is a beautiful view across the beach and the horizon, to the point where sea and sky blur into each other.
The walk along the beach, barefoot, her boots in hand, the surf swirling around her feet and the fresh breeze had cleared her mind – and so far nobody had followed her. Now she was refreshed in body and mind.
Christine opted for a table for two, with her back to a wall and enjoyed the view listening to Grigori Socolow’s rendition of Chopin’s Etudes. Socolow had just begun to play the last three Etudes of op. 25. She closed her eyes and relaxed. The September Sun felt warm on her face.
Suddenly a voice brought her back to her senses. “Excuse me, do you mind if I sit at your table? It seems yours is the only place left.” Christine looked up.
The speaker was a tall blond man, a clear cut face, fairly tall. Boat shoes, Chinos, a Shirt and a Navy blue Blazer.
The face seemed somehow familiar, but Christine couldn't place it. Remarkable was the long thin scar on the right cheek, with an upward flick. She had seen such scars before. After duels of Fraternity Members at Heidelberg.
She had had the rare opportunity to attend to one of those, as the Fraternities called that, “Persönliche Contrahage” – personal duel. A friend of her had invited her, member of a Corps himself.
“Of course”, Christine replied politely. “Have a seat, if you do not mind me listening to my music?”
“Too kind, none at all”, her new acquaintance responded smiling and sat down.
Christine concentrated again on Socolow’s playing. The opening bars of op. 25/11, the slow introduction –a stark contrast to the following allegro assai. She always considered this contrast as one of Chopin’s finest moments. And Socolow played the introduction as it should be played.
“What do you think of Socolow’s interpretation of the Etude in a-minor?” The Stranger asks, casually.
Christine was startled: “Your hearing is very good.” She paused for a moment, thoughtfully, then added: “To answer your question: Socolow’s rendition is one of the finest I know, nearly flawless, if you ask me.”
She paused for moment –and added: “No I consider it perfect, perfect in that precise moment.”
“Indeed”, the man replied “though I think that Christine von der Marwitz plays in the same league. But this is a question of personal taste, not of quality, one might say.”
“I have never heard Frau von der Marwitz playing before, I have to admit.”, Christine shrugged. This was at least not a blatant lie because she seldom listened to herself, only at recording sessions.
“You should really hear her someday, if the opportunity presents itself”, her counterpart replied cordially.”
His smartphone signalled an incoming call. He looked at the screen. “I´m sorry, Madame, but as much as I would like to continue our discourse about Chopin, I have to take this, Business, I fear. Tedious but necessary!“
“Maybe we can continue this conversation at another time.” He stood up without any obvious haste and left pressing his phone to his ear.
Christine looked after him, curious. That encounter had been strange. She could not place it; there had been a vibe and none of the good ones.
When she was younger, she recalled walking home late after a rehearsal one evening and feeling like she was being followed. The next morning, the news had a report of a mugging gone wrong on the route she took. At the time she felt like she has been close to danger. She had that feeling again now. And she had learned to trust her instincts – as a musician as much as a detective.
This had been a chance meeting, but somehow she had the feeling, that this meeting had been anything but. The man had been polite, even courteous – but there had been something under the surface, which left her uneasy, especially his parting remark.
Christine sat a moment there, thinking, then signalled the waitress for the bill, paid and left for Blum´s.
Keitum, St. Severin, Churchyard, behind some bushes:
Susanne von Stülpnagel returned slowly to the world of the living. Her head pounded so badly, that she gladly slipped back into the darkness again. Next time she was able to stay awake.
Her body sent confusing signals to her brain. The corners of her mouth ached, something cut deeply into them. There seemed to be irons bands around her wrists, elbows, and ankles. Her fingers touched her heels which were bare, by the feel of it. And her toes – she could not move her toes. And there was that burning and itching sensation between her legs, they wouldn´t have dared! They had had.
And another sensation: Her feet …. Her feet burned like on fire – ouch! And … Heww - She could feel something slimy covering her soles. Whatever it was, her feet were coated in the stuff. Not only her soles, but between the toes, her high arches as well. The feeling was incredible. As if Ants crawled over her feet – and biting them.
Her brain still did not work properly. Why was she here … wait … the American … that bimbo had asked her for directions. Then someone had attacked her from behind – the Chloroform. That voice …
Now she was wide awake! Susanne von Stülpnagel was not scared, oh no, she was furious. That she had been outsmarted so easily. Her Master would not be pleased. His wrath was the only thing she was afraid of. That coldness in his voice. She shuddered. She had disappointed him.
What now? A thorough assessment of her situation: She would not get out of this mess without help. She could not even roll on her side. The thick branch between her arms made that all but impossible. She shivered. At some point their men would search for her, but till then she had to lay here and endure. She flexed her feet. Her feet still burned.
Susanne kept concentrating on one thought: Revenge. That detective and that Russian would pay for this. They would rue the day they crossed her path! Imagining what she would do her assailants. That thought gave her some solace while she chewed angrily on her sock, and endured the burning of her feet and terrible itch between her legs.