Helen took a moment to process this. She did her utmost to not think about how bizarre and gruesome their topic of conversation was, and focused instead on how feasible Werner’s ideas were. His pragmatic approach disturbed and unsettled her, but she also knew he was right. Emotions wouldn’t get them anywhere. Deep down, she wondered how long she would be able to stand this. “You’d leave a digital trail—gas stations, toll roads. And somebody might notice your license plate. A foreign car would be particularly noticeable in a remote area. If someone finds the body, the first thing the police will do is check whether anyone has seen anything unusual.”

Werner tapped his bent index finger against his chin.

“What’s the matter?”

“I was just thinking that I might have an accident. Or get stopped by customs.”

Helen covered her face with her hands. “I feel like I’m going crazy. Maybe—maybe it would be better to bury him in the garden.” She looked up, sought Werner’s eyes. “But I don’t know if I can cope with it—just the idea that there’s somebody lying out there. I’d never . . . It’s so horrible.”

“I wouldn’t want that either.” Werner grinned mirthlessly. “Not in my backyard.”

“I sometimes think—” She shook her head. “If we were to call the police right now, then—”

“Then we would be a couple who shot dead an intruder with an illegal firearm and hid his body in the freezer for two days.”

“For Christ’s sake, Werner!” Helen slammed her palm on the tabletop. She hardly felt the pain. Leaping to her feet, she kicked the unyielding oak of the kitchen island in frustration, and kicked it again. Then she stood still, breathing rapidly, her whole body trembling. She wanted to scream as loud as she could, pull her hair out by the roots, hurl plates and knives at the wall, physically attack Werner. For two days, she had done her level best to act as normal as possible—to negate and suppress all the emotions she felt—but she could do it no longer. She suddenly felt completely drained. “We’ve made a terrible mistake.” Her voice sounded hoarse. “There’s no way out. We should have called the police right away.”

Werner said something in reply, but she didn’t take it in. She raised her head and looked outside, her eyes filling with tears. It was growing dark. The swimming pool would soon need to be covered to protect it from falling leaves, and the pump would have to be cleaned for the winter. The rest of the garden lights were still broken. She could hardly imagine that not even forty-eight hours ago she had still been worried about all that—about such trivialities.