Helen mumbled a reply and looked outside. They were driving past a bright-blue-painted building that was home to a fishing tackle shop. Immediately next to it was a little church with a small cemetery full of lichen-covered headstones. It looked as though the last resident of the village had been buried there at least two centuries ago. Southern England was one big fairy tale, but she couldn’t enjoy it right now.

Werner rubbed her leg. “Don’t worry. I’m sure I can put a smile on your face this evening.”

18

18

Ralf parked his car directly opposite number 23. Werner’s Mercedes wasn’t there. On the driveway next to Helen’s light-blue hatchback stood a gray BMW 5 Series. He recognized the car: the grandparents were here.

He crossed the street with the envelope in his hand. Just now, he had been on the verge of shoving it through the mailbox at the police station—but then he had stopped to reflect. What would the police do with these notes? Investigate them, of course. And Helen was still alive, but Brian had disappeared. So, if they managed to figure it out, they would end up back at his door—and he didn’t know if he would be able to keep his cool when they did. Too much had happened for that.

Ralf rang the bell. Brian, Mikey, the police, Sara—they’d all underestimated him. Mikey had already learned his lesson. And now Sara was about to meet a whole other Ralf.

She opened the door herself. Behind her in the hallway stood a dignified, gray-haired man who looked him up and down.

“Hey, Ralf.” Sara smiled, then peered ostentatiously over his shoulder. “Where’s Naomi?”

“I’m on my own.”

“Oh?”

“I need to talk to you.”

She gave him a questioning look, but said nothing and opened the door wider.

The gray-haired man hadn’t moved from his spot. Ralf greeted him with a forced smile. The man gave a brief nod.

“This is a friend of mine,” said Sara to her grandpa, before turning back to Ralf. “Come on upstairs.”

19

19

“I’m sorry.” The receptionist put down the phone and looked at Helen apologetically. “I wish I had better news for you. But they said they’d keep an eye out for your phone.”

“Thank you.” Helen wasn’t particularly disappointed; she hadn’t expected any other outcome.

Werner walked up to her. “Nothing?” He had been standing at the other end of the lobby, calling her provider to have her number blocked.

“No. I’m so upset about this.”

“Me too.” He gave her a kiss on the forehead. “But we can always replace it.”