Chapter 2 - THE VIDEO HE COULDN’T EXPLAIN
I looked at Detective Sarah Brenner.
“What happens to Gero now?”
She closed the laptop.
“First, we preserve every copy of that recording.”
My voice stayed level.
“And after that?”
“He will be questioned. Depending on what the medical examination confirms and what else we uncover, charges can follow.”
Beate stared at the floor.
I sat beside her.
She looked smaller than I remembered.
My daughter had always been stubborn, funny, and quick to argue with me when she thought I was wrong.
Now she kept both hands folded over her stomach as if she were apologizing to the baby for everything that had happened.
I reached for her hand.
“You don't have to protect him anymore.”
Her fingers tightened around mine.
“I know.”
It was the first time she had said those words without looking afraid.
Dr. Patrizia Richter entered with the medical report.
She had worked with Beate through most of the pregnancy.
Her expression was serious.
“There are extensive bruises,” she said. “Some are older than others.”
Sarah looked at her.
“Older?”
Patrizia nodded.
“These injuries did not happen in one night.”
Beate closed her eyes.
Sarah turned to her.
“How long?”
Beate hesitated.
“Months.”
I felt something inside me twist.
“How many times?”
“I don't know.”
“You don't have to count.”
Beate looked at me.
“I counted because it made each minute end.”
I understood.
The camera had captured fifty strikes.
The number itself was horrifying.
But it also meant there had been other nights nobody had seen.
Sarah wrote something down.
“Did he ever threaten you with the belt before?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ever use another object?”
Beate nodded.
“His hand. Once a phone. Mostly threats.”
“Did you ever seek treatment?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Beate gave a tired smile.
“He told me people would think I was trying to ruin his life.”
Sarah looked at me.
That sentence was enough.
Gero had not simply lost his temper.
He had built a system in which Beate learned to doubt whether she deserved help.
Then Sarah asked a different question.
“Who is Rüdiger?”
Beate looked up.
“His business partner.”
“Why did your husband call him immediately after the assault?”
“I don't know.”
I remembered Gero's voice on the phone.
Warm.
Relaxed.
Completely different.
“Rüdiger,” he'd said.
As though nothing had happened.
Sarah leaned back.
“We contacted him.”
“And?”
“He says Gero was supposed to discuss a transfer of company assets tonight.”
Beate frowned.
“What transfer?”
Sarah looked at her.
“Do you know anything about a property called Falkenhof?”
My daughter's face changed.
“That was my mother's house.”
My stomach tightened.
Her mother had left Beate a small property outside Bonn.
It wasn't enormous.
It wasn't valuable enough to attract attention from wealthy people.
But it was hers.
Gero had always wanted to sell it.
Beate had refused.
Sarah looked at me.
“Apparently Gero has been trying to refinance it.”
Beate whispered:
“I never signed anything.”
“That may be important.”
Sarah opened another file.
“We found copies of unsigned transfer papers in his office.”
I stared at the folder.
“So the assault wasn't only about dinner.”
Sarah didn't answer.
Beate looked at me.
“I think he wanted me to sell the house.”
“Why?”
“He said we needed cash.”
“For what?”
She shook her head.
“He never told me.”
Sarah closed the folder.
“We'll find out.”
Then her phone vibrated.
She glanced at the screen.
“Mr. Brand.”
I stood.
“What?”
“We have a warrant.”
“For Gero's house?”
“Yes.”
“Now?”
“Yes.”
Sarah looked at Beate.
“He's currently at a restaurant with Rüdiger.”
My daughter went pale.
“He's going to act normal.”
Sarah nodded.
“That is what people often do when they think they still control the story.”
I felt the old military instinct returning.
Stay calm.
Collect facts.
Do not move before you understand the situation.
Sarah looked at me.
“You're not going after him.”
“I wasn't planning to.”
“Good.”
She stood.
“We'll handle it.”
Beate looked at me.
“Papa?”
“Yes?”
“I want to go home.”
I knew exactly which home she meant.
Not the house she shared with Gero.
Her mother's little house.
Falkenhof.
I nodded.
“Then that's where we'll go.”
Before we left, Patrizia handed Beate a small knitted baby blanket.
“I made this for you months ago.”
Beate took it.
A tiny embroidered star was sewn into the corner.
She pressed it against her chest.
Then she looked at me.
“I want my baby to come home there.”
“We will.”
Sarah returned from the hallway.
She looked at me.
“Mr. Brand.”
“What?”
“We searched Gero's car.”
“And?”
She held up a plastic evidence bag.
Inside was a key.
A brass key with a red tag.
Beate stared at it.
“That opens the office at Falkenhof.”
My blood went cold.
Sarah looked at me.
“He had your daughter's key.”
Then she added:
“And there is something else.”
She turned the bag around.
A photograph was taped to the key.
A photograph of Beate asleep on the couch.
Taken from inside her own house.
May you like
On the back, someone had written:
She still hasn't learned.
