I walked away from the warehouse without looking back. My destination was the next police station. I would get arrested and then see what happened. My hands became sweaty at the thought of my last visit to a police station, but my mind was made up. I had to go through with this now.
After circling the warehouse and standing in front of the fence, I couldn't help but take another look over my shoulder. Something tugged at the pit of my stomach, pulling me back toward the warehouse as if I had been attached to a fish hook. It took me a moment to understand that this was my heart.
I bit my lips and turned away. He had had enough time to prove to me that there was something there. That I was more than just an annoying add-on he'd needed when he first started walking in this world. But he hadn't. And neither had I.
So there you go.
I put my hands around the cold iron of the bars and began to climb. It wasn't long before I jumped down the other side and stepped out of the driveway with a firm stride and continued my way along the street. It had to be early morning, because a delicate glow of redness was beginning to show on the edge of the horizon. As I followed the footpath, the city around me came to life, and as I climbed the stairs to the commuter train, I was met by a cluster of commuters on their way to work.
I sat down on the first train towards the city center and stared out the window for the rest of the ride. Doubt was gnawing at me again. What if I had misjudged the situation? What if Legola's words were not just empty phrases after all?
I shook my head vigorously to dispel the thoughts. I was doing the right thing, and if not, at least I had tried. In any case, things couldn't go on as they were.
"Next stop: main station. Transfer to all suburban and subway lines as well as regional and long-distance traffic."
I flinched, but then pushed throu my back and stood up. Now the time had come.
I got off with the other people and walked through the station. At any moment I expected someone to grab me by the shoulder and yell, "Here's the one we're looking for, we've got her, we've got her!"
For some reason, it was important to me to turn myself in. I wanted to prove that it had been my free choice to come here and that this was a reason to believe me that I had nothing to do with it. After the shooting at the cemetery and the chase, I would have thought that I would never voluntarily set foot in a police station again, but something told me that I had to do just that. Let's just call it intuition.
I pushed my way through the crowd, once across the hall to the exit of the station and stepped back out into the open. From here it was only a few meters to the station. I took a deep breath and ignored my racing heart, then reached out my fingers for the bell.
At first nothing happened until the door buzzed and I pushed it open with momentum. Inside, it looked like I already knew it would: Linoleum floor, a counter, neon lights and on the wall the Most Wanted. I swallowed and let my gaze glide over it. No sign of the poster that showed my face. Strange.
"Can I help you?"
I turned and saw an aged policewoman standing behind the counter, her short hair clipped out of her face. She eyed me carefully.
"Yes, I... so..." How should I begin? Why hadn't I thought about this before?
She raised an eyebrow. "Yes?"
"Wasn't there a wanted ad for a young woman hanging here until recently? Ina Schwarz?" I found it hard to look her in the eye, so I fixed on a spot on the floor right next to my shoes.
The policewoman shifted her weight forward and looked at me piercingly. "You're right about that, it was hanging here." I had a feeling she could read my mind as well as my body language because next she asked, "And why do you care?"
Nervously, I ran my tongue over my lips and clasped my sweaty hands behind my back so it wouldn't be so noticeable that they were shaking. "I... I want..."
Damn it, why was I stuttering like this? Why couldn't I say it? I want to turn myself in. It wasn't that hard, after all. I made another attempt, "I want to..."
She cut me off with a gesture. "You want to put something on record?" Relieved, I nodded. "Fine. Then please come, I'll take you to the back... Ms. Schwarz."
My head shot up and I stared at her. "How did you know I was..."
She just smiled and motioned for me to follow her. Irritated, I frowned. I had somehow imagined this differently. Where were the handcuffs? Why wasn't I led away, but asked politely? Why wasn't I locked up? After all, I had been accused of murder, if I could trust my memory. I bit my lips. The cell thing could still happen.
The policewoman led me into an office and asked me to sit down, she had to make a phone call. I couldn't tell if that was good or bad, but it didn't really matter. I couldn't turn back anyway.
I looked around. The office didn't appear to be very comfortable. Besides the chair I was sitting on and a desk with a computer, there was only a timeworn lamp and several moving boxes in the corner. Still, even this room was better lit than any H&M cabin and I felt uncomfortable. It was almost as if I was sitting on a silver tray waiting for someone to spear me with a fork.
Time was passing. I didn't know if it was because I was so excited or because I had actually been left alone for so long, but when the door finally opened, I felt as if I had been stuck here for several hours. Instead of the policewoman, however, a man now entered my cell.
With one look it was clear to me that he wasn't a person to be trifled with, which was probably mainly due to his Men in Black style and the visible wiring on his ear. Behind him, another suit slid into the room, looking at least as dangerous, but in a much more subtle way. I shuddered as his lips twisted into a thin smile that didn't reach his eyes. "Ah, there we have the little thief. To what do we owe the honor?"
