I Am Your Judge: A Novel by Nele Neuhaus Read Free Book Online Page A

Remember, I know you,” Henning teased her. “So, just in case you let Christoph go alone, you’re cordially invited to come have Christmas dinner with us. We even put up a tree.”
    “I’ll be on that plane tomorrow!” Pia snapped in annoyance.
    She hated that Henning knew her so well and always had such an easy time seeing through her. She’d actually prefer to call off this vacation that she’d been looking forward to for so long, but she refused to admit it to herself. And she certainly didn’t want to hear it from her ex-husband.
    Bodenstein smiled and held out his hand to Henning’s new colleague, who had been following the exchange with some amazement.
    “Don’t mind these two. They were married once,” he explained. “Oliver von Bodenstein, K-11 Hofheim.”
    “Frederick Lemmer,” the other man answered. “Pleased to meet you.”
    “Can we begin?” Pia asked indignantly. “We don’t have all day.”
    “Why not? Your plane doesn’t leave till tomorrow,” Henning needled her, grinning at the dirty look she gave him. Then he turned to the corpse.
    The autopsy uncovered no decisive new facts. Ingeborg Rohleder had been as healthy as could be, and if she hadn’t been shot, she would have lived many more years. The projectile had entered her temple above her left ear and exited a few centimeters higher through her right vertex, which confirmed Kröger’s theory about the path of the bullet. The shooter had been positioned down by the stream. He came out of nowhere and then disappeared into thin air.
    *   *   *
    “How do you like this one, Mama?” Greta had slipped into a short jacket edged with fake fur. She twisted and turned, casting a critical eye at herself in the mirror. The jacket suited her. She was slim, with legs that wouldn’t quit, which meant she looked fabulous in that sort of jacket, unlike many women of Karoline’s generation, who had already been getting pudgy even at Greta’s age.
    “It looks great on you,” Karoline said.
    Greta smiled radiantly as she looked for the price tag, which was hanging out of one sleeve.
    “Oh no!” Her eyes widened in consternation. “I can’t buy this.”
    “Why not?”
    “It costs a hundred eighty euros!”
    “I’ll give you the jacket for Christmas if you like it.”
    The girl looked dubious but then turned back to glance in the mirror, torn between reason and desire. Finally the jacket ended up in the shopping bag with three pairs of jeans, a sweater, and a hoodie. Greta was overjoyed, and Karoline was pleased.
    When was the last time she’d been downtown shopping five days before Christmas? It must have been twenty years ago, if not longer. Karoline used to love pushing her way through the crowds with her best friend. She loved the kitschy Christmas decorations, the rousing Christmas carols, the vendors’ booths that stood on every corner, and the aroma of roasted candied almonds in the cold December air. When she picked up Greta at the boarding school early in the afternoon to take a walk downtown, she’d been thinking of Goethestrasse, but Greta insisted on going to the shopping malls on the Zeil. For three hours, they had plowed their way through overheated and overcrowded department stores. She felt happy watching her daughter prowl the aisles with shining eyes, looking for Christmas presents for her girlfriends, for Nicki, Papa, and her half sister. Greta also enthusiastically tried on clothes that her mother secretly found largely impossible. To Karoline’s surprise, even the crowded stores were fun, calling up long-forgotten memories from her youth.
    Back then, she’d had so much time. Her mother had always been generous and never chided her if she sometimes came home late. How amazing it felt not be under pressure from any sort of deadline. Her smartphone was back in the glove box of the car, and she didn’t even miss it.
    At five o’clock, they lugged their loot in a zillion bags to the car, which was parked in an