Sara hated her father, but he’d never heard her say anything negative about her mother. So, what reason could she have for getting her ex-boyfriend to—no. It made no sense. On the other hand, the image of Brian’s mother was still fresh in his memory: intimately entwined with Werner as they left the Horn of Plenty. Was she behind this? Maybe she was tired of playing second fiddle and thought it was her turn to live in a house with a swimming pool. Had Emily encouraged her son to eliminate her rival? Ralf gnawed on his cheek, slowing his pace. Or did the two of them cook this up together? He didn’t know Emily well, but she seemed like a spiritual type with her Buddhas, her cats, and her incense. He couldn’t see her coming up with a murder plot on her own. Then again, he had never imagined Brian would be willing to murder somebody for money. A mother of three children, at that.

The heartless piece of shit.

Maybe Emily knew nothing about any of this, and Brian had planned and executed the whole thing himself out of love for his mother—or more likely, because he thought he would be better off himself with a wealthy stepfather like Werner.

But in that case, how had Brian come by all this information? By staking out the Möhrings’ house for weeks on end? No. That wasn’t his style.

As Ralf got into his car, he realized with a flash that Brian hadn’t had a pistol with him. The gun he’d been carrying was fake. A replica.

Ralf plopped down behind the wheel, pulled the envelope out from under his jacket, and took another look at the notes.

Inside 7:30 p.m., up to B -> find P

Go inside at half past seven. Head up to the bedroom. Find pistol. That was it: the gun he was supposed to use to shoot Helen had been waiting for him in the bedroom. That meant there had to be a second person involved. Somebody who had access to the house, and who had either offered him help or put him up to it. Or both.