The bassline from the garage continued undiminished. A low, throbbing whoom whoom whoom. Every now and then, the voices and music would grow louder and more distinct as the garage door was opened. Shouts, laughter.

Werner looked out through the kitchen window. “If I catch anybody peeing in the swimming pool, it’ll be the last time we throw a party in this house.”

“Werner?”

He turned his face toward her.

“I’m dreading tomorrow morning.”

“The last packages,” he said.

“Not just that. One of the admin staff has caught me in the waste room a couple of times. She suspects something.”

“Are you worried?”

“Yes and no. Maybe I’m reading too much into it, but what if she’s started keeping track of who throws what away? It wouldn’t be much effort for her—the waste room is just across from her office. I’ve used seven containers over the last few days. Four just today. I have no idea what the normal daily amount would be, or if anybody monitors it.”

Werner gave her a serious look. “You think somebody might notice the extra containers?”

“Maybe we should get rid of the last packages somewhere else.” She looked up. “What if we took them to England?”

He shook his head resolutely. “Let’s stick to the plan. One more trip and we’ll be done.”

“Do you think so?”

“Of course.”

Helen looked at her husband. There wasn’t a trace of doubt on his face. Werner seemed completely certain of everything, and that inspired confidence somehow.

17

17

Ralf stood in the garage doorway, his fists clenched in the pockets of his pants. The people behind him were singing loudly and badly along with the music and trying out strange dance moves. The backyard was quiet and peaceful. A misty glow hovered over the swimming pool. Ralf breathed in the cold night air and wandered farther into the garden.

He hadn’t noticed anything on his first inspection earlier that evening, but that didn’t mean much. For almost the entire length of the yard—along the fence and at the back—the borders were covered with a thick layer of bark cuttings, the ideal material for concealing freshly disturbed soil. There could be ten bodies out there. Thirty, even.