Emma had rarely felt so unable to deal with a situation as this one. She wasn’t really tired any more, even though the sleep her neighbour had torn her from had been far too short to be at all restorative. But, just as in Palandt’s house earlier, the fear of being caught had a revitalising effect.
Emma had to prevent her ‘break-in’ from becoming public knowledge. Palandt must under no circumstances call the police. What would it look like if it got out that because of a mental aberration on her part she’d intruded into the house of an old, terminally ill man? Most people already doubted her sanity. Even Philipp had suggested quite openly today that she get some therapy, and her best friend was accusing Emma of having poisoned her.
If her intrusion became known, her reputation would be destroyed for good. And everybody would say that the doctors unwittingly involved in the Rosenhan Experiment would have been better off giving her forced therapy after all. Because she really was a basket case.
‘Are you alright?’ Palandt asked, when she came out of the kitchen with a plastic bag. ‘You look so pale.’
‘What, oh, yes, no, I’m fine. I was just thinking.’
She handed him the bag and he went to the desk while she stayed by the fire.
‘What about?’ her neighbour asked, as the bag rustled each time it swallowed a box of pills.
I didn’t ask him whether he wanted to take his coat off, Emma thought as she stared at his bony back. Suddenly she had an idea.
‘Have you touched it yet?’ she asked.
‘I’m sorry?’
Palandt turned to her.
‘The mobile,’ she said. ‘Have you already held it?’
‘I’ll be honest with you, yes. Why?’
‘Well, my husband’s a policeman.’
He didn’t seem fazed by this rather strange answer.
‘Oh, really?’
‘Yes, Philipp often deals with these sorts of blackmail cases,’ she lied. ‘Usually they’re linked to organised crime.’
Palandt coughed, them said, ‘I can imagine. I bet that those brutes persecuting me are part of an organised gang.’ He put away the last packet and turned to go.
Emma stood in his way. ‘I work as a psychiatrist and sometimes help my husband out when he’s compiling reports, so I know a bit about his work. I’m afraid you’ve just caused a problem for the investigation.’
‘Because of my fingerprints?’ Palandt took off his glasses and rubbed his tired eyes.
‘Yes. They’ve got top lawyers, these Mafiosi. They were probably wearing gloves, which is why your prints might be the only ones on the phone.’
‘But that doesn’t matter, because if they trace the number they’ll see it’s not my phone, won’t they?’ Palandt said, but he sounded slightly unsure.
‘If the burglars were so stupid as to use a mobile with a contract. But I’d lay money on it being a prepaid phone.’
‘Oh.’
The floorboards beneath his feet creaked as Palandt put his weight on one leg, then the other. His eyes still looked friendly, but his expression was tense. Standing was clearly uncomfortable for him. ‘Oh well, doesn’t matter. It’s worth a try, isn’t it?’ he said, putting his glasses back on and making to leave finally, but she made herself touch his arm.
‘I’d be careful, if I were you.’
He stopped again. ‘Why? What can happen?’
‘Okay. You ring the police, they come by, examine the phone, run a check on the numbers dialled, but can’t prove anything in the end. But because the officers have checked those numbers, you’ve flushed out the rats, Herr Palandt, and ultimately you’ve achieved nothing except for making your medicine dealers even more angry at you.’
‘Hmm.’
Her words had hit their target. His head was processing them.
‘Maybe you’re right. I should let it rest; I don’t want any more trouble. Having said that…’ He looked Emma uncertainly in the eye. ‘Dammit! I want it all to stop. They’re bound to come back to fetch the phone, aren’t they? I can’t just carry on, hoping that everything will work out fine on its own.’
‘I understand,’ Emma said, without being able to offer Palandt a solution to his quandary that would get her out of trouble too.
‘Give it to me,’ she suggested, devising a plan even as she was talking.
‘You?’
‘Thanks to my husband I know a little police trick that can tell you if the phone is registered or not. Every manufacturer has a hidden system function.’
That was of course nonsense, a complete pack of lies, but it had the desired effect.
‘You’d do that for me?’
‘Sure.’
I’ll do a few things before you find out who the mobile really belongs to.
She turned to the window, snowflakes were spattering the glass as if it were the windscreen of a moving car. She briefly wondered whether she could ask Palandt to bring the phone to her. But before he could change his mind it would be better if they lost no time.
‘Right then…’ Emma picked at her sweaty and now damp dressing gown. ‘I’ve just got to put on something warm before we go.’