They were quiet for a moment.
“C’mon ladies. Be creative in your thinking. I need names. Who was shady among your dad’s associates?”
“If you want to scrutinize a contemporary of our father’s, one who has all the right connections, one who fits the bill,” Ina said, “then I’d suggest you take a look at Rainer Schulz.”
“Who’s that?” Gage asked, the name ringing a faint bell.
“Only one of the most corrupt and powerful men in all of Germany,” Ina continued.
“The corruption is alleged,” Katja added. “I don’t think he’s ever been brought to charges on anything.”
“You know he’s dirty,” Ina said.
With closed eyes, Katja nodded her agreement.
“Who is he?” Gage persisted.
Katja answered. “Rainer Schulz is a little younger than our father. During reunification, he was appointed head of the Treuhandanstalt. It was the agency responsible for privatizing thousands of state owned companies from East Germany right after the Berlin Wall came down. There were allegations of his rampant corruption almost immediately.”
“Was he taking bribes?” Gage asked.
Ina snorted. “It went a little deeper than that but, yes, that was certainly alleged.”
“Rainer Schulz?” Gage asked, spelling it for confirmation.
“Yes,” Ina confirmed.
“Why him?”
Ina continued to throw her suspicion in Rainer’s direction. “Because he and my father were inseparable for many years. And during those years, the family business’s profit soared. We also heard they had a falling out not all that long ago.”
“Heard from whom?” Gage asked.
“Ursula,” Katja said.
“Ursula, the chef?”
“Oh, yes,” Ina added. “She seemed very close to my father.”
Gage eyed Katja, who nodded. He recalled what she’d said about Ursula. Gage then attempted to move his legs, wincing as he did.
“I was numb after only a few minutes in this tub. Then, when you came in, I felt like I had needles in my legs. Now I have shooting pain. Can we continue this later?” Gage asked, bending his knees until they reached the towel.
“Read up on Rainer Schulz and then we’ll talk,” Ina said. She turned and guided her sister out of the bathroom.
But not before Katja made one last bit of eye contact with Gage. Sheriff followed her from the bathroom.
It took Gage every bit of five minutes to get his legs working properly. He hoped he didn’t have frostbite. He was more concerned about some areas than others.
Once dressed, he spent the next hour reading up on Rainer Schulz. Over the past two decades, the now wealthy Schulz had been accused of tax evasion, bribery, racketeering and even violence—but he’d never been convicted of a single thing. Gage could easily see where he might be the missing piece of the puzzle.
Gage also reminded himself to look into Ursula’s relationship with Karl Vogel.
And how about Katja’s relationship with Michael Boden?
What a damn mess.
It would soon get messier.
* * *
After a light lunch, Gage furthered his research on Rainer Schulz via the Internet. Schulz owned one of those nondescript companies that claimed real estate and investment strategies, but gave no information about clients or investment specifics. In fact, the website provided only an old biography of Rainer Schulz and the location and phone number of an office in Berlin.
“To hell with it,” Gage muttered, dialing the number. He spoke with a young woman who was polite but unhelpful. Herr Schulz was out and she didn’t know when he’d be back.
After an hour, Gage regrouped and called back, politely using the Vogel name. He asked for just five minutes on the phone with Herr Schulz. The woman insisted to Gage she’d get Herr Schulz the message, but he wasn’t in and she didn’t know when he would check his messages.
“May I have his mobile number?”
“I’m afraid not.”
“Then will you please call him and relay my number, along with the fact that I’m working for the estate of Karl Vogel?”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
I’ll see what I can do? To Gage, that sounded suspiciously like “no.”
Of course, there was no callback from Rainer Schulz. Desperate, Gage phoned Marcel after lunch. Oh, yes, Marcel knew of Rainer Schulz but knew of no way to reach him.
“His alleged criminal activities consist of the starchiest, white collar varieties,” Marcel had said. “I must admit, I do admire the man. You might even say I’m a bit jealous. He’s lined his pockets with unspeakable millions of euros and has never been proven guilty of anything—a true master.”
“Can you think of any angle to reach him?”
“I’ll think about it, but I don’t want to give you false hope.”
Frustrated, Gage then checked with Boris Oppenheimer, Claudia Vogel’s attorney. After a brief discussion in which Boris was emphatic that the Vogels had no official business relationship with Rainer Schulz, Gage asked if Boris could help him get a meeting.
“I’ll try.”
Boris called back in the mid-afternoon with the bad news.
“His assistant told me that Herr Schulz’s schedule doesn’t allow him to meet with you. She was rather resolute.”
“Then I wonder why she didn’t tell me that.”
“I don’t know.”
“There has to be a way.”
“What’s this about?” Boris asked.
“You know what it’s about.”
“Does this have to do with proving the innocence of the Vogel daughters?”
“Of course.”
“You think Rainer Schulz might have murdered Herr Vogel?” Boris asked incredulously, with great emphasis on Schulz’s name.
“I didn’t say that. I just want to talk to him.”
“Well…” Boris allowed, “there’ve been whispers for years about his corruption. I’m sure you know about the Treuhandanstalt and what happened there. More recently, he’s rumored to have been involved with the malfeasance surrounding the beleaguered Berlin Airport.”
“What about it?”
“Look it up. If I’m not mistaken, it’s been called one of the most wasteful and corrupt public works project in the history of the planet. One of the
