Vogel knew that this room, these walls, this house would no longer be the same. They were full of memories that would soon start to hurt.
‘We won’t take down the Christmas tree until our daughter comes home,’ Maria Kastner announced, almost proudly. ‘We’ll keep it lit so that it can be seen through the window.’
Vogel pondered the absurdity of this, especially in the months to come. A Christmas tree used as a beacon, pointing the way home for someone who might never return. Because that was the risk, although Anna Lou’s parents didn’t yet realise it. Those festive lights would signal to everyone outside that within these walls a drama was being played out. They would become a burdensome presence. The neighbours wouldn’t be able to ignore the tree and its significance. On the contrary, as time went on they would be upset by it. Passing the house, they would cross the street to avoid seeing it. That symbol would alienate everyone from the Kastners, making their solitude even worse. The price you had to pay to keep going with your own life, as Vogel well knew, was indifference.
‘They say it’s normal for children to be rebellious when they get to the age of sixteen,’ Maria said, then shook her head resolutely. ‘Not my daughter.’
Vogel nodded. Although at this stage he had no evidence for it, he was sure she was right. He wasn’t simply humouring a mother who was trying to absolve herself and her own role as a parent by vouching for her child’s incorruptibility. Vogel was convinced she was telling the truth. What gave him this conviction was Anna Lou’s face smiling at him from every corner of the room. That simple, almost childlike air told him that something must have happened to her. And whatever it was had happened against her will.
‘We have a very strong bond. She’s very much like me. She made this for me, she gave it to me a week ago …’ The woman showed Vogel a bracelet of coloured beads she was wearing on her wrist. ‘They’ve been her passion lately. She makes them and gives them to the people she loves.’
Vogel noticed that as she told him these details, which were of no significance for the investigation, her voice and eyes betrayed no emotion. But it wasn’t coldness. He knew what it was. The woman was convinced that this was some kind of test. They were all being subjected to a test so that they could demonstrate how firm and intact their faith was. That was why, deep down, she accepted what was happening. She might think it was unfair, but she nevertheless hoped that someone up there, maybe God himself, would soon put things right.
‘Anna Lou confided in me, but a mother is aware that she doesn’t know everything about her children. Yesterday, while I was tidying her room, I found this …’ The woman let go of her husband’s hand and held out to Vogel the brightly coloured diary she had been keeping close to her chest.
Vogel reached out across the low table to take it. On the cover was a picture of two sweet kittens with ruffled fur. He started leafing through it absently.
‘You won’t find anything suspicious in it,’ the woman said.
But Vogel closed the diary and took his fountain pen and his black notebook from the inside pocket of his coat. ‘I assume you’re familiar with all the people your daughter mixed with …’
‘Of course,’ Maria Kastner said with a touch of indignation.
‘Has Anna Lou met anyone new recently? Made a new friend, for example?’
‘No.’
‘Are you absolutely sure?’
‘Yes,’ she said emphatically. ‘She would have told me.’
She had only just admitted a mother couldn’t know everything about her own children, but now she was making a great show of certainty. It was typical of parents in missing persons cases, Vogel recalled. They want to help but they’re aware that they’re partly to blame, at the very least for not paying enough attention to their children. When you try to point that out, though, the instinct for self-defence kicks in, even if it means denying the evidence. But Vogel needed more information. ‘Have you noticed any unusual behaviour lately?’
‘What do you mean by unusual?’
‘You know how young people are. A lot of things can be figured out from small signals. Has she been sleeping well? Eating regularly? Has her mood changed? Has she been sullen?’
‘She was the usual Anna Lou. I know my daughter, Special Agent Vogel, I always know when something’s wrong.’
The girl owned a mobile phone. From what Vogel could tell, it was an old model, not a smart phone. ‘Did your daughter surf the internet?’
The two parents looked at each other.
‘Our brotherhood frowns on the use of certain technologies,’ Maria said. ‘The internet is full of snares, Agent Vogel. Misleading notions that can compromise the upbringing of a good Christian. But we’ve never forbidden our daughter anything, it’s always been her choice.’
Yes, of course, Vogel thought. About one thing, though, the woman was right. The danger did usually come from the internet. Sensitive teenagers like Anna Lou were particularly susceptible. There were hunters out there, clever at manipulating vulnerable young people and insinuating themselves into their lives. Lowering their defences little by little and inverting relationships of trust, they managed to replace the teenagers’ closest relatives and remotely control them until they could make them do whatever they wanted. In this sense, Anna Lou Kastner was the perfect prey. Maybe the girl had only apparently supported her parents’ wishes while going on the internet elsewhere, at school or in the library. They would have to check. For the moment, though, there were other aspects he had to go into. ‘You’re among the fortunate few in the village who sold land to the mining company, is that right?’
The question was addressed to Bruno Kastner, but it was once again his wife who spoke up. ‘My father left us a plot of land up in the north. Who would ever have imagined it was worth so much? We gave part of the money to the brotherhood and paid off the mortgage on this house. The rest is intended for our children.’
It must be a tidy sum, Vogel thought. Probably enough to guarantee a more than decent existence for several generations of Kastners. They could have allowed themselves all sorts of luxuries, or chosen to buy a larger and more impressive house. Instead, they had decided not to modify their lifestyle. Vogel couldn’t understand how you could ignore such a windfall so easily. For the moment, he simply registered it. Head still bent over his notebook, he said, ‘You haven’t received a ransom demand, so I’d rule out a kidnapping. But have you received any threats in the past? Is there anyone – a relative, an acquaintance – who has reason to envy you, or bear you a grudge?’
The Kastners seemed taken aback by these questions.
‘No, nobody,’ Maria said immediately. ‘The only people we see regularly are the members of the brotherhood.’
Vogel reflected on the implication of these last words: the Kastners were naïvely convinced that conflict was impossible within the brotherhood. In fact, he’d never doubted that this would be the response. Before setting foot in their house, he had looked into their lives, trying to find out everything there was to know about them.
Public opinion, as usual, went entirely on appearances. That was why, when something unusual happened, like a simple, well-brought-up girl going missing, and when it happened within the context of a respectable family, everyone tended to assume that the evil had come from outside. But an experienced police officer like Vogel was always reluctant to look outside, because in all too many cases the explanation was more simply – and horribly – hidden within the walls of the family home. He had dealt with fathers who abused their daughters and mothers who, instead of protecting them, had treated their own daughters as dangerous rivals. Then, for the sake of a quiet life, the parents reached the conclusion that the best way to save their marriage was to get rid of their own offspring. He had once investigated the case of a wife who, on discovering the abuse, had chosen to cover for her husband, and to avoid her own shame, had killed her daughter herself. In short, the range of savagery within the family was ever more varied and fantastic.