Private Berlin (Private 5)

“He managed to track me back to Berlin by going to the FKK clubs in the city, asking about a man with masks. No one talked, except one of my regulars, who told me. I told her to tell Chris about me, and the shop. Once I knew he was on my tail, I led him to the slaughterhouse and ambushed him. I knew he’d be upset being there, not thinking correctly, especially after seeing the rats on Ilse in the subbasement.”

Ilona starts to sob, and my empathetic side understands.

“You didn’t know, Ilona?” I say, feeding on her pain. “Oh, yes, it’s true, your dear little sister is gone. And now, so are you.”

I take two steps and grab her by her hair and wrench it upward, revealing the nape of her neck.

Ilona’s making these squealing noises like a piglet going to slaughter.

I cock my arm and prepare to drive the screwdriver up into her little piggy brain.

CHAPTER 129

“STOP RIGHT THERE!” a male voice shouted from behind Mattie. “Drop it and her or by God I’ll blow your head off.”

Falk froze and looked back. Mattie twisted around.

Darek Eberhardt, the farmer who was tilling the fields by Waisenhaus 44 when Mattie first came to the orphanage, was standing in the doorway and looking over the brace of his double-barreled shotgun.

“Drop it!” Eberhardt repeated. “I know how to use this weapon, mister!”

Falk let go of Ilona and dropped the screwdriver.

“Get on the floor,” Mattie shouted at Falk. “Face fucking down! Hands where he can see them!”

Falk looked at Mattie in shock, disbelief, and then sullen resentment as he lowered himself to the floor.

Horrified, Eberhardt came around Mattie. “My God, what’s he done to you?”

“He’s got a gun,” Mattie said. “It’s over there. And a pocket torch too.”

She was watching Falk, who lay on the floor with his fingers entwined behind his head. His body was tense and alert.

“Got them,” Eberhardt said, and she watched him toss the pistol and the torch out the window.

“Please, Herr Eberhardt,” Mattie said. “Cut me down. Get us free.”

Eberhardt pulled out a knife and sliced the restraints from Mattie’s wrists, the pain almost as bad as fire. Eberhardt set down the shotgun, shrugged off his raincoat, and gave it to her to cover herself.

“Thank you,” she said as Eberhardt went to free Niklas.

She felt dizzy, as if she might faint, then surged with joy at seeing Niklas cut free. He got up and rushed into her arms. “Mommy,” he sobbed.

Mattie bear-hugged Niklas to her, tears streaming down her cheeks as she kissed the top of his head. “I’m so, so sorry you had to—”

“I thought he was going to kill us.”

“No, no, baby,” Mattie whispered. “Not today.”

Eberhardt freed Ilona and helped her to her feet. She moved drunkenly when she asked Mattie, “Did you see her in the slaughterhouse basement? Ilse?”

Mattie felt gutted. “I couldn’t tell you. I just didn’t have the heart to do it.”

“I had hope,” Ilona said in a little-girl voice. “And now…”

She wheeled around and kicked viciously at Falk, hitting him in the ribs.

“You fucking sick bastard!” she screamed, going into meltdown. “You killed Ilse and Chris and Greta.” She kicked him again. “You killed our mothers. You made them confess to things they never did. Why?”