11
Ida Garcia gazed out of the window into the yard, mindlessly stroking her hair. A stampede of anxious thoughts had been gnawing at her since Frederich left for the meeting two hours earlier. Had they handed him to the police? Was he being tortured? Was he even still alive? She pictured herself alone in his apartment in dead silence, the day turning to night with no trace of him and no word of his fate. It was harrowing to imagine.
A dark cloud of fear had set over her the second Frederich left to meet The League. Fear of what was to come. Fear for Frederich’s safety. Fear, she realised, had been her constant tormentor since she had stepped into Elias’ apartment that day. Then Frederich had appeared out of the darkness, a knight without shining armour. His armour was dark and obscure. Behind his boyish demeanour, he was cold and calculating. At times he accidentally showed glimpses of something more, someone warm and vulnerable, but it never lasted. His other side was morbid and brutal. He had killed Elias with no sign of regret. Ida was curious about the warmer Frederich, the one who had invited her in with his sad eyes, but she also had to acknowledge that without the callous killer, she might be dead - gone from this world, with no chance to say goodbye to those she loved. She thought about what Frederich had shared about the day Kraas died. She picked up the phone from the table and dialled her mother.
“Hello?”
“Hey mamá, it’s me.”
“Ah, hello mijita, how are you?”
“I’m fine. I just wanted to hear your voice.”
“I was having a coffee with tía Magdalena before, and I was telling her how nice it was to hear from you two days in a row. Now it’s three.”
Ida teared up, and a laugh broke out.
“Of course. I hope you made enough coffee for three,” said Ida with a sniffle. “I’ll be home before you know it.”
“I hope so. Is everything ok? You sound sad.”
“Yes, I’m fine. Don’t worry. I just felt like checking in.”
“Ok.”
“Hey mamá,” said Ida. “I love you.”
“Oh, mijita. I love you too. Are you sure you’re ok?”
“Yes, more than ok. I have to go now. I’ll call you soon.”
“O… Ok, mijita.”
Ida closed the connection and exhaled slowly, while wiping the tears that had collected around her eyes. She resumed watching the yard for a time before resting on the sofa, where eventually her homesickness gave way to the paranoid thoughts which circled her mind like vultures, ready to devour her sanity. Two hours became three, and her hope of seeing Frederich began to wane. Where is he?
A scratching noise at the front door shook her out of her thoughts and sent a jolt through her. He’s back! She stood up excitedly, unsure if she should greet him at the door. She decided to wait. Her breathing grew shallow. The scratching continued. Finally, something clicked into place, and the door squeaked open.
“Cover the door. I’ll get her,” said a man’s voice.
Her body turned cold. They had come for her. She remained petrified in place, the life sucked out of her as it had been at Elias’ apartment. There were slow footsteps in the hallway. She was in the back room with no path of escape. She began trembling and broke out into a sweat. She listened carefully. Her eardrums twitched with each footstep. She held back the urge to scream. More shuffling. More footsteps. A long pause. Then he was in the doorway, dressed in all black. His face was sweaty and pale. He had an unkempt, receding hairline, a thick neck, large belly and fat hands.
He stopped when he saw her and observed her coolly from his position. He snickered. His eyes looked cold like Elias’, but also predatory. They revealed to her the horrors which he had in mind for her. She had nowhere to go. There was nothing she could do now — except fight. There would be no saviour this time. No police. Frederich was not going to magically appear. She began breathing rapidly. Her nostrils flared. Her eyes widened. Hatred possessed her. Her senses flared up like a bright lamp. Her rage was all she had now.
The man walked calmly toward her with a cocky grin. When he approached, she lifted her leg and stomped her heel into his knee as hard as she could. He screamed out in pain and stumbled forward, and she met him with a knee to the groin while also belting out an angry roar. The man collapsed to the floor, wailing from the pain. Ida felt a surge of excitement at the sight of him paralysed before her. Now there were fast, approaching footsteps in the hallway. Her thinking was sharp and resolute. She knew she would not have surprise on her side this time. The second man would be ready for a fight which she could not win.
He appeared in the doorway and paused, scowling when he found Ida backed up at the window and his partner collapsed on the floor in agony, grasping at his groin. He hesitated. Ida, propelled by the adrenaline, sensed the opportunity for escape. She turned toward the window and twisted the handle. Directly beneath her was the concrete path, and further out was the open yard covered in grass. She turned back and saw that the man was still near the doorway, but had begun marching toward her with vengeance in his eyes. He drew his gun. She climbed up onto the windowsill, and without hesitating, she jumped.
12
Frederich sprinted from Linkstrasse 24 back toward Mendelssohn-Bartholdy-Park, his thighs burning as he pushed up the
