Boston
A few days earlier…
The dark sedan came to an almost silent halt before the driver switched off the engine, got out, and confidently walked towards the park bench where Elizabeth Rizzoli was sitting.
"You're a little taller than I imagined," the stranger opened the conversation without further ado.
The confident-looking man wore a dark blue suit and color-coordinated shoes, and his stylish appearance was somewhat reminiscent of the big Hollywood stars of the fifties and sixties. There was nothing recognizably threatening about him, and perhaps under the circumstances, it was precisely this that made him seem frightening in a way that was difficult to describe.
"I hope I'm not even fatter than you imagined," Elizabeth replied dryly, looking up briefly from her newspaper to make brief eye contact with the stranger, whom she had already scrutinized with a practiced gaze on his way to the park bench.
She had just taken a long walk through Boston Common. As she almost always did when she had a day off. Her excursion always followed the same routine. The Captain walked in the invigorating Boston spring air for almost two hours, watching joggers, cyclists, and dog owners do their business.
As she did every time she went for a walk, she had stopped off at her favorite pub halfway through the walk, which was right nearby. She had eaten a burger there and had a glass of iced tea. After her walk, she sat on the same bench to read her newspaper in peace. Everything that day had gone as usual for the detective. Until this moment.
"May I?" the stranger inquired formally, pointing to the empty seat next to the Captain.
"I'm reading an article about a woman who died in her waterbed," she replied. "She lay down drunk and under the influence of drugs, fully clothed. Then, in her sleep, she tore the mattress with her high heels, and the water leaked. Before she could come around, she had already drowned in her bed. What do you think? Do you have a more exciting story for me?"
The stranger smiled before sitting down without being asked. Then he turned his gaze to the blue sky, crossed his legs, and replied, "Isn't this a beautiful day? What do you say we go for a little ride? I take you to my car. Is it to your taste?"
Elizabeth had not noticed that her conversation partner had driven in a luxury car. The Captain would have loved to have one herself. "Twelve-cylinder petrol engine?" she asked with interest.
"With four hundred and fifty horsepower," she was told.
"Strictly speaking, a waste of energy - but admittedly a highly enjoyable one," Elizabeth stated and demonstratively returned to her newspaper reading.
"Well, I guess you can't wash the bear without getting its fur wet," the stranger commented before remarking, "I haven't even introduced myself to you yet. Call me Ishmael."
Elizabeth was unimpressed. "And what brings you to me, Ishmael?"
The stranger grinned with amusement. He hadn't expected any other reaction from Elizabeth, who was wearing an elegant trouser suit as usual. "I've brought a little surprise for you, Captain," he explained.
"Little surprises often end in big disasters."
Ishmael laughed. "That's the detective talking, very good!" he replied. Then he lowered his voice again and continued: "Come on. It usually works like this for you: something unusual happens, you wonder who or what could be behind it, you do all sorts of investigations, and in the end, you understand who you've been looking for all this time."
Elizabeth pursed her lips and nodded slowly. "It's the usual procedure," she confirmed.
"Doesn't it tire you that so much of life is unbearably predictable? So samey, repetitive?"
"It's precisely this predictability that makes my job easier."
"And yet, I'd like us to play the game the other way around today!"
Ishmael wasn't tall and had full, strong hair and bushy eyebrows. There was nothing distinctive about him, but the unusual nature of his appearance, combined with a presence that was difficult to describe, impressed Elizabeth far more than she let on. "So you think you can surprise me?" she inquired, finally putting her newspaper aside.
"You shouldn't be surprised, you'll get your money back," replied the stranger with a charismatic smile, rising from the bench and approaching his car with the darkened front windows. Then he opened the door to the back seat.
"My mother advised me not to get into cars with strange men."
"I'm sure she also advised you not to drink alcohol," Ishmael replied and showed Elizabeth the red wine he had placed in the center console for the journey. "Isn't that your favorite red wine? Or have you changed now? This one is from 2006."
It was Elizabeth's favorite wine, especially from that vintage. "The two thousand and six was voted the third-best wine in the world in Singapore. But I assume you know that," replied Elizabeth, rising from the park bench. "What if I follow my mother's advice and don't accompany you on your mysterious journey?"
Ishmael laughed again, this time even louder. Then he closed his eyes briefly, tilted his head back, and replied confidently: "Well, in that case, I would have to go for plan B. But believe me, plan A will be much more fun for you! Come on, I know you're curious."
Elizabeth was unarmed, and the rear door of the car could easily be locked from the inside by the driver using the automatic child safety lock. "All right," she decided anyway and walked towards the car. "I have to admit, you've honestly earned my attention. Where are we going?"
Ishmael smiled smugly as the Captain made herself comfortable in the back seat. Finally, he replied to his guest: "That's the special thing - today is your big day! I will take you to the most interesting place a human being can offer you! So, is that nothing?"
xxx
The limousine turned onto the city highway with as much power as elegance while Elizabeth poured a good sip of the fine wine into the glass that was in the holder of her armrest. It was a coarse wine glass from which the Captain wouldn't normally drink red wine. But a bulbous wine glass with a long stem wouldn't have found a place in the recess of her armrest.
Elizabeth savored the familiar scent of red berries, elderberries, and oak wood as she scouted out Ishmael and the vehicle.
She didn't fail to notice that a small camera was attached to the windshield. Drivers usually used such cameras to prove their innocence after traffic accidents. However, the lens wasn't focused on the road but on the car's interior.
"You're amazingly well informed about me," Elizabeth noted as she memorized the route.
"I should be; I don't have just anyone on board. I hear a lot about you, Captain. Is it true that you can tell who has stubbed out their cigarette in an ashtray?"
"They say things like that about me?"
"By all accounts, especially in the prison cells."
"I can assure you that I've never put anyone behind bars for putting out a cigarette."
The drive lasted more than ten minutes, and it was still unclear why he had tracked Elizabeth down and invited her to the mysterious party.
"What can you tell me about this interesting place?" Elizabeth finally asked.
"If I tell you something about it, it's no longer a surprise, is it?" she was told. "But as far as I know, you enjoy riddles. So let me tell you this much: the place I'm taking you to is like a snake. It just lies there for the longest time. Calm, often beautiful, but sometimes threatening. But sometimes it moves. Towards us, away from us, past us. Sometimes, it even snaps at us. Then, we have to hope that its bite is not poisonous. And if it is, we can only pray that we survive it and that the snake retreats for a long time afterward."
"Interesting," Elizabeth replied with a slightly frown after taking another sip of wine. "So, is that snake snapping at me?"
"It already has! Why else would I be here?"
"But I don't feel any signs of paralysis."
Ishmael suppressed a grin as he looked ahead at the road. He didn't look in the rear-view mirror once during the entire journey. "We're almost at your destination," he announced, leaving the city highway and approaching a quiet garden estate on the city's outskirts.
"And I don't suppose you want to tell me the destination even now?"
"It's not often that you can't guess something like that on your own, is it?" the driver flirted. "But just telling you now would spoil your anticipation!"
"I don't feel any anticipation."
"Oh, but you should! Because although I know how brilliant you are at combining, I can promise you one thing: You won't know what to expect!"
Elizabeth had registered every detail. The stranger's appearance, the car, the bottle of wine, the route, every word they had exchanged. And yet, she had to agree with Ishmael on this point. She still had no real idea what the point of the strange action might be. "So far, you haven't known anything about me that you couldn't find out by talking to my supermarket cashier. My car brand, my favorite wine ... If you want to impress me, you must develop something more."
The driver put on the blinker before immediately bringing the car to a halt at the side of the road. For the first time since the journey began, he turned to Elizabeth. "There's even more coming than it would take to impress you! To your surprise, you'll have to cover the last few meters on your own now, though."
"I can't shake the feeling that we'll meet again," replied the Captain, trying to read the facial expressions of her counterpart. "Will I be looking for you?"
"Without a doubt," the stranger replied with a hint of anticipation. "And it would be a pleasure for me to be found. If you make it in time, of course."
"In time?"
"Captain, I'm letting you have a privilege today. Not only am I giving you the most uplifting day of the whole year, but I'm also showing you my face. Isn't that a cop's dream? Knowing who you're dealing with right from the start?"
Elizabeth was unimpressed. "I could take you to the BPD to establish your details."
"But in that case, things would throw you off balance, and all the fun would be spoiled."
"You're playing high poker," Elizabeth observed.
"I can afford to do that. I'm not bluffing," Ishmael countered eloquently. "You should go now."
Elizabeth nodded in agreement and drained her wine glass. She had poured very little of the wine from the top vintage to not cloud her senses.
"Now, just walk down the street to the end. Then turn left. You'll see a small brick house. The garden gate is open. Go onto the property, then open the patio door behind the house. It is only ajar. Step inside - and enjoy your surprise!"
Elizabeth knew she wouldn't get any more information from her mysterious interlocutor. Therefore, she got out of the car and shut the door behind her.
After that, the limousine started moving again and disappeared from her view after a few seconds.
Elizabeth had followed the stranger's instructions. She found herself in front of the property with the brick house, whose garden gate was open as announced. She looked at the nameplate. Dr. William Praetorius.
Never heard of him.
Elizabeth briefly considered whether she should call in her team before entering the unfamiliar property. However, she concluded that there was no objectively convincing reason to do so. And there was something else that stopped her from reaching for her cell phone to ask for assistance in her mysterious situation: her curiosity.
It wasn't often that a person managed not to tell Elizabeth everything she needed to know just by looking at her. But the strange man in the gray limousine had managed it. He had captured Elizabeth's attention and persuaded her to embark on a bizarre odyssey.
Now, just before the most pressing question was answered, she wouldn't call for help like a little girl but would face the situation as it had been intended for her.
The garden was well-tended, and Elizabeth could tell that professional gardeners tended it using the techniques used to create and maintain it. There was nothing unusual or disturbing about it.
Elizabeth found the atmosphere pleasant as she moved slowly and carefully across the lawn to the house. "Dr. Praestoruis?" she called through the patio door, which was ajar. "My name is Elizabeth Rizzoli. May I come in?"
The Captain involuntarily scanned every living room corner through the glass door. It took her less than five seconds to notice something. There were several doors leading into different rooms. The shelves and cupboards in the living room hadn't been dusted for a while. Except under the one next to the door that leads into the hallway.
He wants to draw my attention to this door.
"I'm coming in now!"
A spirit trolley with various whiskies and cognacs, a cigar humidor beside it. Slippers, a men's coat on the coat rack, and a large, empty beer glass on the TV table.
Dr. Praetorius is a man, but not the one who drove me here. He would have been too tall for the coat.
Elizabeth now reached the hallway that led to the other rooms in the house. Only one of the doors was closed, with a sign saying Practice.
A picture of Christian Barnard was on the wall. Barnard performed the world's first heart transplant. Historical medical instruments in the hallway.
Praetorius is a surgeon.
Elizabeth knocked on the practice door, but there was no response.
Go in - enjoy your surprise! Let's have a look ...
Elizabeth reached for the doorknob, turned it carefully, and then opened the door a crack.
The scene that met her eyes took her breath away for a moment. Her heartbeat accelerated rapidly, and she had to struggle for composure as she realized with terrible force what Ishmael had been talking about the whole time.
A place ... like a snake. Often beautiful but sometimes threatening ... Sometimes, it snaps at us. Then we have to hope that its bite is not poisonous ... So this is the most interesting place he could take me: My past!