The Orphanage E-Book

Laura Laberge

• Herausgeber: BoD - Books on Demand
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Seitenzahl: 471

Beschreibung

A man meets the woman of his dreams, but the next day she suddenly disappears without explanation. Determined, he sets off for the Dominican Republic in search of the only clue, but he never reaches his destination. His close friends have decided to find him, but they get caught up in dangerous scenarios that seem strangely connected to Luxembourg. At the same time, someone is watching their steps from afar and pursuing his own ambitions. What begins as an exciting adventure quickly turns into a dangerous journey in which the participants only gradually realise how much is at stake and how great the danger they are exposed to is. A long-forgotten criminal case gradually reveals the secrets behind the mysterious events.

Leseprobe

CONTENTS

Characters

Diane

Claire

Matthew

Alfonse

Santo Domingo

Ingrid

James

Eric

After five years of work, the story is finally written.

It is a rather complex mix of adventure and crime with many different characters. For easy reference I therefore name most of them in the beginning.

I would like to take this opportunity to thank all the people who have supported me in my work in one way or another, and who have often helped me with constructive criticism.

Thank you to my husband Barth for his ongoing motivation, support and graphics.

Thank you too to my friends and acquaintances. I have often been able to gather valuable material from our various discussions, without you perhaps realising it!

I want especially to thank Georgette, Isabelle, Linda, Henrietta and Maria for ‘proofreading’, and all those who have patiently listened to me and supported me with suggestions during the years.

I would also like to thank my editor at projekt-lektorat.de. The task required a great deal of empathy from an external perspective, and you’ve done a truly outstanding job.

A special thank you to my friend Alan, who, in real life heading to the Dominican Republic, forgot his mobile phone on the back seat of our car on the way to the airport. That incident was the start and motivation for this story.

Any resemblance to living or deceased persons is purely coincidental and in no way intended by the author.

Luxembourg author Chantal Welter writes under the pseudonym of Laura Laberge.

Previous publications (in German language):

Nur wegen dir

Eine Spur von Leben

Geheimakte Frank Mayer

[email protected]

CHARACTERS

Alan Moore Thomas Walter David White Alfonse Weis Matthew McKenna Jeff McKenna

friend of Thomas, David, Alfonse graphic designer friend of Alan retired ex special police magician and medical doctor medical doctor and Matthew’s brother

John McKenna

director of the McKenna clinic in Luxembourg, father of Matthew and Jeff

Claire McKenna Lis Chandler Eric Chandler Caro Klein James Hammer Bernard Bouvier Franz Kramer

wife of John McKenna Spanish teacher the son of Lis Chandler girlfriend of Eric Chandler private investigator bank director childhood friend of Matthew McKenna

Diane Van Helden Gerard Van Helden

daughter of Gerard Van Helden father of Diane and Laetitia Van Helden

Emily Fox

wife of Gerard Van Helden and mother of Diane and Laetitia Van Helden

Laetitia Van Helden

sister of Diane Van Helden and wife of Klaus Schmitt

Klaus Schmitt

husband of Laetitia Van Helden

DIANE

FRIDAY, JULY 5

Friday night, 10:30 p.m. Alan Moore was finishing his beer. “Time to catch the last bus, lads,” he said to his poker buddies, Alfonse Weis and Thomas Walter, glancing at David as he stood up. The four long-time friends had met for an after-work beer, followed by a round of poker and a nice dinner, as always discussing the week’s events. Tonight, they were gathered at Alfonse’s house in Fentange, a small village nestled in a quiet area not far from the capital.

Alan Moore, 53, a British citizen and banker, had lived and worked in Luxembourg for over twenty-five years, and resided in a beautiful apartment in the city centre.

Thomas Walter, 55 years old, a Dutch citizen and graphic designer by profession, had been divorced for over twenty years and now lived in Bivange, a small town near the capital. He loved his work and dedicated himself wholeheartedly to every project.

Alfonse Weis, a 60-year-old Luxembourger, was a retired intelligence officer but had only left the service a few months ago. He was of medium build, slim and fit, with grey hair, a determined gaze, and a good sense of humour. During his tenure in the police force, Weis had brought down numerous criminals, and once he took on a case, nothing and no one could deter him until the culprit was apprehended. Since retiring, he had more time for his family, which brought much joy to his wife Madeleine. However, he somehow missed the daily challenges, although he didn’t discuss this with his wife or friends; it was simply a sentiment that anyone who knew Alfonse could sense.

David White, 50, a long-time friend of Alan Moore, hailed from Scotland and was visiting Alan for a few weeks. David, a former soldier, had served in multiple military operations abroad, though he rarely spoke of them. In Scotland, he had worked as a police officer until falling ill and taking early retirement.

“Right,” David stood up as well.

“Time for another pint in the Irish pub on the way home,” he said to Alan as they bid farewell to Alfonse, whose wife Madeleine had gone out for the evening to ensure the men’s poker night went undisturbed.

Thomas dropped Alan and David off at the next bus stop on his way home.

“See you soon and have fun.”

“I’ll catch you later, Thomas. Thanks for the lift,” Alan replied as they exited the car.

A few minutes later, the bus arrived and both men took their seats. There were only a few people on the road at this hour. When the bus reached their stop for the pub and came to a halt, Alan suddenly changed his mind.

“David, I’m too tired for the pub tonight. I’m heading straight home. You’ve got the key; I’ll see you in the morning. That last beer really hit me.”

“Sure thing. Catch you later or tomorrow,” David said as he disembarked. A thunderstorm rolled in and soon, heavy rain began to fall.

Alan settled in, gazing out of the window. He was exhausted after a stressful day at work covering for vacationing colleagues. It was a struggle to stay awake in the warm bus. As it stopped at the next station, he noticed a tall, slender woman boarding. She appeared somewhat anxious, glancing around nervously. Clad in a black raincoat and with a vibrant scarf protecting her hair from the rain, the woman seemed caught off guard by the sudden downpour. Her blonde hair hung wet over her shoulders. Hastily, she selected a seat one row ahead of Alan, positioning herself halfway so as not to be visible from outside.

As the bus prepared to depart, a man in a black hoodie boarded at the last moment, taking a seat in the front row behind the driver. He was equally drenched from the rain.

Upon spotting the man, the blonde woman stood up abruptly, crossing over to sit beside Alan. Strands of her damp, blonde hair framed her face as she looked at him.

“Excuse me, sir, may I ask you a favour?” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. From her flawless, beautiful, albeit slightly gaunt face, two large, fearful blue eyes gazed at him.

“That depends,” he replied with a friendly smile.

“I have to get off in the city centre and I’m afraid the man in front of me will follow me,” she whispered to him in a low voice. “I would be very grateful if you could get off the bus with me and accompany me to my apartment door. It’s not far from the city park, Avenue Monterey. Please. I’m serious.”

Alan saw pure fear in her eyes. Despite wearing jeans and a black coat, the woman exuded elegance. She attempted to shield part of her face with the scarf.

“What makes you think Mr. X will follow you?” he asked in a whisper.

“Instinct! When I was waiting at the bus stop, I noticed him immediately; he was staring at me. When I looked at him, he tried to look away, but you can tell when you’re being watched, you know. And then he got on the bus after me.”

“And why would he want to follow you?”

“I can’t tell you that. Firstly, I don’t know you, and secondly... Oh, I have to get off at the next stop.”

As Alan watched, the mysterious man also stood up as if to disembark. So far, the woman appeared truthful.

“Okay, I’ll come with you,” he decided spontaneously and rose from his seat.

Upon hearing these words, the relief on her face was evident. “Thank you!” She briefly touched his arm.

She has a dazzling smile, Alan thought as he followed her off the bus. Perhaps it’s a twist of fate?

Mr. X also disembarked, but through the rear exit.

“It’s not far,” she said, pulling her scarf further over her head, now obscuring part of her face as they hurried through the city park.

As they walked, they periodically glanced back to see if the mysterious man was indeed following them.

“Look, he’s coming towards us!”

She tugged briefly on Alan’s sleeve when he turned to look again.

The man strode purposefully while speaking into his cell phone. He briefly glanced up and slowed his pace upon realising he was approaching too swiftly.

“How about I just give you a hug now and we wait until it’s over?”

Before the woman could respond, Alan enveloped her in his arms.

“Don’t worry,” he whispered, “I’ll release you in a moment.”

She peeked over his shoulder and saw the man had stopped, talking loudly on his phone while gesturing with one hand. His tone suggested annoyance.

“Hmm...” Alan slowly released his arms from her and looked over his shoulder. “He’s stopping. We’d better keep walking; he really looks like he wants to follow you.” By now, Alan had also become suspicious. There was something strange about this person’s behaviour.

At last, the rain had almost stopped. Alan Moore and the beautiful stranger continued on their way. About five minutes later, she stopped at the first block of flats on the corner of the main street and hastily pulled a key out of her pocket.

“I’m so grateful that you came with me. I... would you mind coming in with me, I mean, just to see if everything is okay? Please!” The 53-year-old Englishman simply couldn’t resist the look in those blue eyes.

“No problem, now that I’m here!” said Alan kindly. “Perhaps in return, it would be fair to give me a brief explanation of all these events when we’re at your apartment?”

“Yeah, sure, as soon as we get upstairs,” the woman said as she hastily opened the front door; they both entered and took the elevator to the sixth floor.

The stranger’s penthouse was on the right-hand side; she opened the door, and they both entered. Once inside, she immediately locked the door and closed the security chain.

“Thank you,” she said again. “Now I’m reassured. Please have a seat. Can I offer you something? A coffee, or...?”

“A coffee would be nice, thank you.”

A few minutes later, she came back from the kitchen with two cups of coffee, put them on the table, and sat down opposite Alan.

She leaned back on the couch and brushed a few loose strands of hair out of her face. What a beautiful woman, he thought. It was the right decision not to go ahead with David tonight.

“My name is Diane. Diane Van Helden.”

“Pleased to meet you, Diane... although the circumstances seem a little confused. I’m Alan Moore. Who is following you and why? I assume this isn’t the first time someone has followed you, is it? In that case, you should report it to the police.”

Alan stood up and looked out of the large window. “You have a fantastic penthouse here and a great view!” Then he sat down again.

“Yes, it’s very nice here. I like it.” She paused. “Okay, then I’d better start from the beginning. I don’t know why I should involve you in this, but I have a feeling that I can trust you.”

“That’s entirely up to you. But it would be a bit late not to trust me now,” Alan remarked somewhat mischievously.

By now, it was almost midnight. Alan called David briefly and told him that he wouldn’t be home until much later.

“The story I’m about to tell you sounds pretty crazy, but it’s the truth. I swear it.” Diane looked at him with wide eyes.

“I’m listening carefully, go on.” Alan felt wide awake again, especially at the sight of the woman’s elegant beauty.

“About six months ago, I met a man, handsome, charming, in his mid-fifties, with blond but greying hair. Over the weeks, we got closer and started a relationship.”

“That sounds normal so far,” Alan commented.

“That’s right. He had a good sense of humour, was educated, and told me that he worked for the Ministry of Family Affairs and was regularly away on business trips. He also told me quite early on that he was still married but in the middle of a rather unpleasant divorce. He later took this as an opportunity not to invite me to his home because his wife was refusing to move out until everything was financially settled and the divorce was finalised.

“Mark, as he was called, often stayed here overnight and when he had to work late, he sometimes arrived here in the middle of the night and then went to work from here the next day. He told me that he was sometimes on the road at weekends too.

“He also told me that he spent a lot of his free time in the Dominican Republic because he was working in an orphanage in the capital, and supporting it financially. The orphanage is called ‘Pequeños Angeles’, which means ‘little angels.’ Whenever he had some free time, he would travel there to help, send materials, whatever was needed. I thought that was a pretty noble activity.”

“We got on very well and about two months later we went on vacation together for a week to the island,” Diane continued her story. “Mark was often away on business during the day, but we always met up for dinner in the evening. So, I was often alone during the day. I’d go sightseeing in the city and we’d meet up at the hotel in the evening. Once he took me to his orphanage. Everything was exactly as he had told me. As I speak some Spanish, I was able to talk to some of the staff there. I also saw the young girls and toddlers who lived there. They all seemed to be between two and ten years old. What struck me was that all the girls there looked rather European, and none of the children were indigenous. When I asked Mark about it, he just said it was different. I didn’t really understand, but I was under the impression that I shouldn’t interfere or ask any more questions.

“When I returned to the orphanage the next day, I met this little girl called Kim. She was so sweet, indescribably shy and timid. She had just turned six, had big brown eyes and kept looking at me. She spoke German.

“Her parents had died when she was a baby and she had been living in this orphanage ever since. She captured my heart immediately, I don’t know why, but I couldn’t help it.

“I then spent the remaining three days with her during the day. When we returned to Luxembourg, I kept thinking about the little girl and after a few days of careful consideration, I made the decision to adopt little Kim.

“The next day I was full of enthusiasm and told Mark about my decision, but to my great surprise he didn’t seem at all enthusiastic about it. On the contrary, he advised me not to rush into such an important decision and to wait until our next visit. I insisted that he should at least inform the orphanage immediately to make sure that Kim was no longer available for adoption. He simply ignored my request and said we would sort it out on our next visit.

“At my insistence, we returned to the island one month later and during the trip I sensed that something was wrong with Mark. He was suddenly acting so differently. When we arrived at the orphanage and I asked about Kim, I was told that the girl was no longer there. Mark told me that he had just found out that Kim had already been adopted. It was all so strange. I was of course very disappointed and angry at the same time. And so, the two of us got into quite a heated argument. He then didn’t want to talk about it anymore and invited me to an expensive restaurant that same evening. There he told me that he wanted us to move in together but I wasn’t impressed, which of course he noticed. Since that incident, there has been some tension between us.

“I had a very strange feeling about him,” Diane continued. “He spent more than a whole day with business people, didn’t tell me exactly what he was doing or when he would be back. He basically ignored me.

“On my very first visit to this orphanage, I had the strange feeling that something was wrong there. I can’t explain it. Later, I asked him how it was possible that Kim could be adopted so quickly, but he avoided the subject. On the last day before we left, I was alone in the hotel again. Without telling Mark, I returned to the orphanage. As the staff there already knew me, they let me in without any problems and then I met a young woman who worked there. When I asked her about Kim, she said she recognised me from my last visit.

“Suddenly, she discreetly pulled me aside and said that little Kim had not been adopted, but had been taken to the hospital for a few days at the request of Dr Mark Lamborelle. He suspected an illness. I explained to her that I was and am still willing to adopt her. The young woman just said I had better stay away from this case and do nothing more. She begged me not to mention what she had confided in me under any circumstances, otherwise she would be dismissed.

“At that moment, I realised that Mark had appeared and was standing behind me, so I couldn’t ask anything else. The next day we flew home.

“Later, I asked him why he didn’t want to help me adopt this girl, to which he replied rather gruffly that if we were to continue our relationship, he certainly didn’t want a child to be part of that.

“In the days that followed, I made the decision to break up with Mark. He was not the man I had originally thought he was, and certainly not the man I wanted to continue being with. That was a week ago.

“Since then, he has called me a few times and asked me to reconsider my decision. He has told me that he loves me and that maybe we could find another daughter for me, he wouldn’t be completely averse to having a child. But I have been very short with him. I’ve told him our relationship is over. And I also said that I had the feeling that there was something wrong with the orphanage and that I would go to the police, with or without his blessing. And that was the last time I spoke to him.”

“Quite a temperament!” said Alan. “When was the last time you spoke to him?”

“Five days ago,” Diane said. “Since then, he has tried to speak to me again and again, but I haven’t returned his calls. And ever since then I’ve had the feeling that I’m constantly being watched and followed, I don’t know, maybe I’m paranoid about this story. But I have the feeling that someone is after me. The night before last, I saw a van with darkened windows parked across from here all night, and I was suddenly very scared. But nothing happened. And the same scenario happened last night. The same van, but again nothing happened.”

“What a story, Diane,” Alan said. “But are you sure this surveillance is coming from this man and not just... well, could it be someone else?”

“I suppose so, yes. Because before that, I mean before I wanted to break up with him, I’ve often had the feeling that someone was following me or watching me.”

“But why would he still be after you? Do you have connections to people who could be useful to him?”

“No, I don’t think so. My father lives in Holland, my mother died in a car accident, and I can’t imagine why my departure has made him so angry. He might assume that I’m going to the police and having the orphanage investigated. But first of all, it’s not in this country, and besides, I would never do that. And if he’s so reluctant, then there’s probably something really wrong, otherwise why didn’t he tell me that little Kim was in hospital for an examination?”

“One reason could be that he didn’t want to have a child in your partnership,” Alan said.

“My gut feeling tells me that there’s more to it than that, but I don’t care now. I’ll get in touch with the orphanage myself soon, go there and meet the lady who spoke to me. Then I’ll look for little Kim and, if I’m lucky, I’ll adopt her or at least make an application. And I will make sure that Mark Lamborelle is not there at the same time.”

“Well, that won’t make him very happy when he finds out.”

“I couldn’t care less! I’m a free person and someone like him can’t intimidate me.”

Outside, it was storming and raining cats and dogs. Alan looked out of the window onto the street.

“I still think you should go to the police,” he said. “This story needs to be reported at the very least; you never know what good it could do. I don’t necessarily mean the orphanage story, but I would definitely report your suspicion that you’re being followed. Maybe his face is not unknown to them.”

Diane thought about it.

“Yes, you’re right. You know what, why don’t you stay here tonight and then accompany me to the police station first thing in the morning?”

“I … here … okay! I’ll do anything for a beautiful woman,” Alan said and smiled. He had nothing to lose, except that he was falling in love with this woman. I never dreamed it would be this easy to meet the woman of my dreams, he thought.

He quickly called David and told him not to expect him until tomorrow morning. David had the key to his apartment, and it wasn’t the first time he had been there.

“Well, Alan, I wish you something,” David said with a grin.

Alan spent the night on a soft and comfortable couch and thought for the best part of the night about the strange story that this breath-taking beauty had revealed to him.

SATURDAY, JULY 6

Saturday morning, 8 a.m. Diane had already prepared coffee by the time Alan woke up. Within seconds, the story of the previous night came back to him.

“Are you from Luxembourg?” he asked after a long shower. He sat down with Diane at the kitchen counter.

“Yes and no. My mother is, well, she was Luxembourgish, Emilie Fox, and my father is Dutch but has lived in Luxembourg since he was a child. His name is Gerard Van Helden. My mother died in a car accident when we were both very young, my sister and I.”

“That must have been terrible for you.”

“Yes, it was. We lived with my grandmother in Amsterdam for many years; my father was unable to look after us for a long time after the accident. He survived but it took him over a year to fully recover.

“And when I finally returned to Luxembourg, my sister stayed with our grandmother. I immediately found a job here that I love. I work with people who have hearing disabilities; it gives me a lot when I can teach them something.”

“I’m sure that’s no easy task?”

“Not at first, but as soon as you can communicate with them, you want to do everything you can to teach them and help them.”

“So, you can read lips?”

“Yes, I can do that,” she smiled.

“The name—Van Helden—maybe your friend was after money? Your name sounds a bit royal. Do you come from a noble family?”

“No, no, we’re just a normal family.” She smiled and stood up.

“All right, let’s go to the police station and see what they can do for us. Would you accompany me, please?” Diane asked hesitantly.

“By all means, “Alan said. “I won’t leave you there alone.”

“You know, when we get this over with, I’d love to take you out for a really fancy dinner,” Diane said.

“Agreed. With the greatest pleasure.” Today is my day, he thought.

Together they got into the elevator, went down and left the building. Diane looked up and down the street.

“Everything seems to be fine,” she said, “nothing unusual.”

“It looks clear to me too,” Alan said.

A few meters further on, they stopped at traffic lights which were still red for pedestrians. It was fairly quiet on the road that morning, very little traffic. The school vacations had just begun.

When the pedestrian traffic light turned green, Alan and Diane stepped off the sidewalk onto the street at the same time. Without warning, a car came around the corner at incredible speed, partially drove onto the sidewalk and hit both of them, throwing them onto the street.

When he came to, the only thing Alan could remember was the screeching of brakes and the sight of a couple of pedestrians running towards him from the other side of the road. A few meters away, he could see Diane lying on the road with a great deal of blood around her head. He heard screams, words like “call an ambulance” and “accident”, and then he was unconscious again.

“Mr. Moore, can you hear me?” a man’s voice called Alan back to life. He slowly opened his eyes and saw a blurry person in a white coat leaning over the bed and pointing a lamp at his eyes.

“I’m Dr. Malone. You’re in hospital, you’ve had an accident, you were hit by a car, can you remember that? Please follow this light with your eyes. Yes, very good, up, down, left, right. Perfect!”

Alan rubbed his eyes. “My head hurts like hell.”

“Is there someone we can call?”

Alan gave him David White’s name and number, and within an hour David was at his bedside.

“Boy, what are you doing? I thought you were sleeping with a woman?” David’s joke fell flat.

“David, that’s a very, very long story.”

Alan looked around the hospital room, trying to remember exactly what had happened before he lost consciousness. He tried to get up, but his head hurt too much.

“How long have I been here, what time is it?” When he looked at his watch, he realised that it no longer worked. The glass was broken.

“It’s 1 p.m. now. Please don’t worry,” said the doctor, approaching Alan’s bed. “You only have a slight concussion and a few bruises, you’ll be fine. I’ll leave you now but I’ll be back.” Then the doctor left the room.

Now Alan managed to sit upright.

“Where is she, where is Diane?” he looked anxiously at David. “Where is the woman who was brought here with me?”

“Hey, lie down, wait, I’ll call the doctor,” David said.

David went out into the hallway and asked for someone who could give them information about this woman. After a few minutes, Dr. Malone came back in. “Mr. Moore, you should stay in bed and rest for at least a day,” he said in a firm voice when he saw that Alan was already half-dressed. “That’s not a very good idea,” he warned.

“Where is Diane? Is she next door?”

“You mean the lady who was with you? Well, my colleague just told me that she left the hospital this morning, she’s fine and after some tests there was no reason to keep her here any longer.”

“But there was a lot of blood around her. There was blood all around her head. How could she be all right?”

“It was probably a laceration on your arm or blood from your head, Mr. Moore. I wasn’t the doctor who examined Mrs. Van Helden. But in a state of shock, the brain can imagine things that aren’t necessarily there. I assure you that Mrs. Van Helden has been examined and is fine.”

“Okay. Thank goodness. Thank you, doctor, but I have to go too.”

“Not without my permission, Mr. Moore. Not until tomorrow at the earliest.”

“I’m signing out now, at my own risk, Dr. Malone. Thanks for everything, but I don’t have any more time.”

Climbing out of bed, Alan called to his friend, “Come on, David, let’s go.”

Without waiting for David’s reply, Alan put on his shoes and about ten minutes later he and David left the hospital. They took a cab and during the ride, Alan told David what had happened since he had met Diane on the bus.

“Oh dear, that smells like trouble,” David said. “I suppose we’re on our way to the lady’s apartment.”

“You bet!”

The cab dropped the two men off on Avenue Monterey, right in front of Diane Van Helden’s house. Alan rang the bell several times, but there was no answer.

“Maybe she’s not here yet, or she’s just gone shopping, or she’s looking for you, or …”

“And we hadn’t even exchanged phone numbers yet! Who could have known …”

The two men then decided to go home and come back later that afternoon.

In the meantime, Alan had filled his friend David in on all the details of Diane’s strange story. He also had a long phone conversation with his friend Alfonse Weis, who had hosted the poker evening the night before. The former intelligence officer confirmed that the woman’s disappearance was indeed strange, but since Alan didn’t really know her, it was difficult to start any kind of search. Alfonse suggested waiting a few days, but that wasn’t what Alan Moore had in mind.

In the early evening, he and David tried to ring her doorbell again, but there was no answer.

There was not the slightest trace of Diane Van Helden. No one answered the door, and after the two friends asked again at the hospital that evening, they only received confirmation that Diane Van Helden had been discharged from hospital that morning.

“David, something’s wrong. That’s what my instinct tells me.”

They looked at each other. “And now what?” asked David, seeing in his friend’s face what he had already been thinking about.

“I’m going to look for her, no matter what. Someone has kidnapped her, or she has gone into hiding for a while because someone is after her again. I can only sincerely hope that she’s still alive.”

“But where will you look for her?”

“I don’t know, but I’ll think of something. Maybe I’ll fly to the Dominican Republic and visit the orphanage, ‘Pequeños Angeles’.”

David looked at his long-time friend with some concern. He knew that Alan would not be put off from pursuing this project.

CLAIRE

SUNDAY, JULY 7

In the Parisian theatre, rue Blanche, the illusionist and magician was bowing to the audience, enjoying the overwhelming applause. The audience was fascinated, whistling and shouting, rising finally together to give the actor a standing ovation. Matthew McKenna was enjoying the atmosphere to the full. He extended kissing hands to the audience; his beaming smile visible to everyone in the audience. He felt carried away by the atmosphere, as if he were in a trance. His mischievous smile and the look in his eyes left no room for doubt: He was simply happy. Tears of joy welled up in his eyes.

This show was Matthew’s third and last in Paris for this season. The dark-haired, handsome forty-two-year-old Luxembourger took his last bow. His black suit, white silk shirt and black bow tie suited him very well. His warm brown eyes lit up as he kissed his assistant’s hand: “Mesdames et Messieurs, mon assistante Nathalie.” Another overwhelming round of applause filled the hall.

“Merci, infiniment, merci et à très bientôt. Je vous aime!” He gave his assistant a beautiful and grateful smile, and disappeared behind the red curtain within seconds.

How I love this magical atmosphere that evokes the same feelings every time, Matthew thought. He was a medium-sized and rather muscular man, popular with women who liked his charming and boyish manner.

That feeling of being carried away by the audience’s applause still filled Matthew with as much joy as his very first performance. He enjoyed being on stage and he adored the world of magic. He loved to cast a spell over his audience for a few hours, to amaze them, to enchant them with his tricks. After every performance, he felt deep inside that he was born for this and nothing else.

However, the magician also had a second profession. Matthew McKenna earned his living as a general practitioner in Luxembourg, where he had his practice in Howald, a suburb of the capital. This career choice had not actually been his own decision, but that of his father, the owner and director of the most prestigious private clinic in Luxembourg. The world of magic had fascinated Matthew since childhood and he knew even then that he would one day be on stage. Over the years, he had managed to combine these two activities, and few people could really understand how a professional doctor could spend weeks a year traveling the world and performing his shows as a magician and illusionist.

When Matthew finally disappeared behind the curtain, his cell phone rang. It was his younger brother, Jeff on the phone.

“Matthew, Mum’s not feeling well. I think you should come home as soon as possible.”

Matthew and Jeff ’s mother, Claire McKenna, had just turned sixty-five last year when she was diagnosed with bowel cancer. After an operation and several months of treatment, the cancer seemed to have been beaten. However, a few weeks ago, shortly before Matthew was due to leave for Paris, Claire’s condition had deteriorated rapidly. Matthew had the impression that she was getting weaker by the day. The chemotherapy had simply weakened her body too much.

“I’ll be back in the morning, Jeff.”

Silence.

“Hey, Jeff, I said I’d be home tomorrow … all right?”

“No, I don’t think so. Professor Weydert has asked us all to come to the hospital tonight, and … “

“You’re calling from the hospital. Let me speak to Mum!”

“She is not conscious. She is under morphine because of the severe pain.”

“Okay, I’m leaving now. I’ll be there as soon as I can!” Matthew interrupted the conversation without waiting for Jeff ’s answer.

As if in a trance, he informed his team that he would not be able to attend their usual closing dinner.

“Thank you so much for your tireless efforts. You have all been fabulous and without you, I wouldn’t be able to do what I do.”

He hugged every member of his team and shortly after 8 p.m. his white Golf Variant with the large inscription “My world is MAGIC” and a photo of a black hat with a white rabbit and a magic wand sped down the highway towards Luxembourg.

“Oh Mum, please wait for me, please … I’m on my way … please … if there’s a God out there somewhere, a creator, please, just give me five minutes with her … please! I have to say goodbye to you, Claire.”

Tears rolled down Matthew’s cheeks. He sped up his drive. Images from his childhood flashed through his mind. He saw himself as a ten-year-old boy coming home from shopping with his mother. She had just bought him his first magic box, a plastic toy for children, but for him it was the most precious object he had ever owned. He was filled with immense joy and pride. Matthew had wished for nothing more than the little magic box.

His father, on the other hand, would have preferred to see him with a plastic stethoscope, a complete children’s pharmacy, but that didn’t interest the sensitive little boy at the time. His brother Jeff, two years younger, quickly adapted to his father’s wishes and thus automatically received his greater affection. John McKenna’s private clinic was the best-known and largest clinic in Luxembourg, and he was a respected and renowned surgeon. Yes, this was his world, the only one that ever meant anything to him. And anyone who did not share his interests did not fit.

Jeff was and remained the preferred and perfect son for Prof. Dr. John McKenna. It took Jeff three more years to complete his medical degree, but he finally did it. He then married and gave his parents two sweet grandchildren, the perfect family life.

Matthew had never fitted into this pattern. He had graduated from medical school with honours and then had worked as a doctor to earn a living. However, the world of illusions, so full of wonders and surprises, had continued to fascinate him. He had kept his first magic box as a very precious, irreplaceable memento, the most important memory of his childhood.

A few years later, after an internship at his father’s clinic, Matthew, then thirty, broke free. He took a break from the world of medicine and spent four years in the United States, studying the magical world in depth.

Matthew found it sad that his father was visibly ashamed of his son, a fact that he expressed in every possible situation. He never missed an opportunity to make fun of Matthew and looked down on him.

A renowned doctor and head of a hospital with a son who was a magician, a son who conjured white rabbits out of a hat; for John McKenna this was a disgrace. Although Matthew had passed his final exams with ease, Jeff always remained the favourite son.

Sometimes Matthew wondered what Jeff would have really liked to do with his life if he hadn’t had to live under this constant pressure to perform in order to realise his father’s dream. However, Jeff would never talk about it, especially not to his brother.

Their mother Claire, however, always treated the two sons the same. She made no distinction and did her best to comfort Matthew in every possible way when it became increasingly clear that their father favoured Jeff and was visibly distancing himself from his youngest son. The final break came when Matthew officially made “illusionist” his second profession and then announced this publicly. His father only briefly commented that this was not a profession, but nonsense, and that his son would eventually realise that he could not make a living from it.

Speeding towards Luxembourg, Matthew was distracted by the pleasant summer evening, warm, with very little traffic. Finally reaching the clinic, Matthew parked in front of the door and ran up the stairs.

As he reached his mother’s room, his father was just coming out. Matthew stopped and looked at his father as he waved his head in denial and looked at his son with tears in his eyes. Claire McKenna’s life had ended just moments before.

TUESDAY, JULY 9

It was just after 12 p.m. when Lis Chandler drove to the supermarket. “How nice to be back in my home country,” she thought as she turned into the parking lot. The forty-year-old, slim woman with long, dark brown hair had returned to Luxembourg for good a few weeks ago. She had lived on the Spanish island of Mallorca for the last twenty-five years, working as a foreign language teacher.

This spring, however, she had decided to return to Luxembourg. She had applied to the local university as a Spanish teacher and was promptly accepted. With a job starting in September, Lis had a good two months to settle back into life in her home country. For the time being, Lis had rented an apartment on Rue Lavandier, near the city centre. Later, she wanted to buy a small house somewhere, but it was still too early to decide where that would be.

Lis Chandler was a somewhat strange character. The attractive woman with the green eyes had a black belt in karate and was also familiar with several other martial arts. And not without reason. Almost no one in Luxembourg knew where she had first come from, and after so many years, hardly anyone remembered. As a child and teenager, some of her friends had called her the girl with the sad eyes. She did indeed have a rather melancholy expression on her face.

Lis’ father, Bernard was a respected and internationally known bank director and a member of the board of a large local bank, as well as its main shareholder. Matthew’s father and he met regularly on the golf course.

She had just got out of the car when her mother rang her on her cell phone.

“Hello Lis, do you have a moment, I have some sad news.”

“Hey Mum. Sure, what happened?”

“Claire McKenna died the day before yesterday. The news is in today’s paper.”

“Claire … Matthew’s mother! How sad for him.”

The news touched Lis deeply and within moments, the thought of Matthew had transported her twenty-five years back in time.

Lis had just turned fifteen, he was eighteen. They both wore the same style of jeans, attended the same college, and were in love with each other. Matthew was Lis’ first great love.

The more she thought about the past, the more tears came to her eyes.

She leaned back in the car as the many memories spontaneously took over. Matthew and she had spent a lot of time together back then. Both her parents were close friends and belonged to the upper class of wealthy families in Luxembourg.

Matthew had been an adventurous boy but at the same time, very sensitive. He was always ready to perform a magic trick out of the blue. Countless times, he and Lis had walked around the neighbouring forest, talking about everything and nothing. They had had a close relationship for more than six months, and nothing and no one could keep them apart.

Despite meeting as children, they had only become a couple much later during a local summer festival. Back then, Matthew had shoulder-length hair and looked more like a hippie, a fact that had always caused tension between him and his father. That night at the festival, he had plucked up his courage to ask Lis to dance. They danced all night, until the early morning, when their first evening together had ended with a kiss. It was a beautiful memory. They had been a couple since that night, and their friends and classmates and the whole neighbourhood quickly knew it. Claire McKenna always brought fresh pastries on Sunday afternoons when Lis was at Matthew’s house. It was a nice, simple time, free of worries and obligations.

And then came the abrupt separation, triggered by an incident that Lis never wanted to be reminded of again. She had tried to erase it from her memory and from her life.

Later, she had moved to Mallorca and the capital Palma, where her parents’ vacation home was located, became her new home.

Matthew went to London to study medicine, but the practical side of his lessons caused him problems. It took him a long time to become immune to the physical nature of medicine.

After graduating, he returned to Luxembourg and completed his internship at his father’s clinic.

When Matthew had his doctorate in his pocket, he decided to make a fundamental change in his life, saying to his father one evening: “Dad, I’m thirty now and I’ve spent too many years of my life doing exactly what you expected of me. Now I’m going to go in a different direction, I want to find out who I really am, at least I’m going to try. I need a break from medicine and want to explore the world of magic, my world.”

This news hit both John and Claire McKenna very hard, although it didn’t come as too much of a surprise to his mother. All that mattered to her was that her son led a happy life and did what he thought was right.

Matthew had made a fair suggestion to his father to work two days a week at the clinic and use the other three days for his magic, but his father said he couldn’t have a doctor who would conjure white rabbits out of a black hat. He was worried it would have a negative effect on the McKenna Clinic’s reputation.

This was the final break in the father-son relationship. It was very painful for Matthew’s mother, who had always tried to avoid this situation and keep things between them peaceful.

Matthew moved to the USA and lived in Las Vegas. When he returned to Luxembourg after almost five years at the age of thirty-five, he opened a small medical practice, and thanks to the excellent reputation of the McKenna Clinic’s name and his father, Matthew quickly gained many patients. John McKenna, however, was furious. He thought it was a disgrace that a McKenna was traveling the world as a magician instead of becoming a senior doctor. It was an even greater disgrace to his father that Matthew had put up posters of himself as a magician in the waiting room of his surgery.

Lis returned to reality when she heard her mother’s voice again.

“Lis, are you still there? Why are you so quiet? Will you come to Claire’s funeral?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure. I’ll pick you up, Mum.”

Lis got out of the car and hurried into the supermarket. She quickly bought the few items she needed and went to the express checkout. While she waited in the queue, she looked around until she suddenly spotted a familiar face in the queue right next to her.

Their eyes met almost simultaneously. The tall, dark-haired man looked a little surprised at first, then he smiled. “Hey, Lis! I would have expected anyone else right now, but not you.”

“Thomas! Well, if that’s not a coincidence!”

The man paid and waited for her at the other end of the checkout.

“I’m so glad to see you after so many years.” He spontaneously hugged her.

“Are you on vacation?”

“No, I recently moved back to Luxembourg.”

Thomas Walter was visibly happy to see her again.

They had met a few years ago on Mallorca when Thomas was on vacation there. This developed into a rather loose relationship. He spent his vacations with her, usually renting an apartment on the island or traveling around. They rarely spent the days at her house. They had spent many hours together, until the day Lis broke off the relationship abruptly and without warning. She told Thomas that she wasn’t cut out for a long-term relationship or to live with someone. She needed a lot of freedom. Thomas had no choice but to accept this brief explanation.

Thomas had lost none of his charm; on the contrary, he looked better than ever, Lis thought. A few grey hairs had blended into his black hair and his green eyes still held the same charm that she had succumbed to many years ago. After the break-up, however, she had made sure there was no more contact, apart from annual birthday and Christmas cards.

“Are you free for dinner tonight? I’ll invite you!” he asked spontaneously.

“Yes, with pleasure.”

“There is a new Spanish restaurant in Alzingen.”

“It’s a deal! 8 p.m.?

“Perfect, I’ll see you there,” Thomas said.

At 8 p.m. sharp, the two met in front of the restaurant. Thomas hugged Lis warmly.

“How nice to see you, Lis. Your hair is longer than ever,” he greeted her. He let a strand of it slip through his fingers. “And still that melancholy look in your eyes.”

“They say that the eyes are the mirror of the soul,” she said and smiled.

They entered. A friendly waiter greeted them and escorted them to a table by the window, where they took their seats.

“Tell me, what brings you back to Luxembourg now, homesickness? Have you had enough of all the Spaniards?”

“Both, actually! I just wanted to live here again, I missed this small country, my language and my mother.”

“And your father?”

“Oh, my father … Not so much, actually. Bernard is still as married to his bank as ever. I often wonder how my mother deals with it, he’s hardly ever home. He’s not only president of his empire but also a board member of a number of other companies and associations. She just loves him very much. It’s her decision.”

“You never spoke much about your father back then, why?”

Lis raised her shoulders. “You know, Thomas, we’ve grown very far apart over the years. When my brother Georges died in that bike accident at the age of fourteen, my father’s world fell apart. He had big plans for his son.”

“He was your twin brother, right?”

“Yes, that was him. We were so close. Georges was such a lively personality, funny, crazy, clever. According to my father’s plan, Georges should have taken over the entire private bank. His empire should have been called & Son, not & Daughter.”

“You wouldn’t have wanted that anyway, would you?”

“No, but that was never an option either, until after Georges’ death. After that, my father told me to study economics, with the idea that he would then introduce me to his banking world. And from the moment I told him that his whole financial world didn’t interest me at all, I was no longer the beloved daughter. I knew that when I was fifteen and I knew that would never change. Later, when I was living in Mallorca, he didn’t visit me very often. Every now and then he would come with my mother for a short vacation, but we were quite far apart.”

“That’s sad. But it’s never too late to improve the relationship a little.”

“Well, it would take a lot more than just ‘a bit of patching up’. But that doesn’t bother me anymore.”

Thomas and Lis took a break from their chatting to order food.

“And you, Thomas, what’s new in Luxembourg? Are you still single?”

“Yes, I’ve been waiting for you,” he replied half-jokingly, half-seriously, with a smile on his face. He was as charming as ever.

Then Lis’ cell phone rang.

“Please excuse me.” She took the call.

“Hello … Eric, what’s going on here? I’m … what? Oh no.” She shook her head. “Sure, I’m at the Spanish restaurant in Alzingen. I’ll see you in a few minutes.”

She put the phone back in her pocket and looked at Thomas.

“Someone is standing outside my front door and can’t find the house key,” Lis explained briefly. “And now this ‘someone’ wants to pick up the key from me.”

“Aha!” Thomas was curious to know who this ‘someone’ could be.

About fifteen minutes later, a tall, slim, rather good-looking young man in his mid-twenties entered the restaurant. He had well-cut, light brown hair and was wearing jeans and a white shirt. He looked around and spotted Lis.

“I think your lodger has just arrived,” Thomas said with an ironic undertone to Lis, who was sitting with her back to the door.

She turned around and signalled to Eric with her hand.

The young man approached the table, put his hand on her shoulder and kissed her on the cheek. She introduced the two men to each other.

“Thomas, this is Eric! Eric, this is Thomas, an old friend.”

“Hello,” said Thomas. “I’m delighted to meet you! Although ‘old’ refers to the years of our friendship, not my age,” he said jokingly.

“I’m pleased to meet you.” Eric gave him a firm handshake with an open look.

“I’m sorry, Lis, I just can’t find that damn key. I’m so sure I put it in my pocket, but … “

“No problem. Voilà!”

She took her key out of her pocket and handed it to him. “But please remember to be home later, otherwise I won’t be able to get in.”

“Okay, I’m not going out tonight.”

“I’m so glad you’re back!” she said.

“Me too,” Eric whispered, kissed Lis on the cheek once more and said goodbye to Thomas with a handshake. “It was a pleasure to meet you. Enjoy your meal.”

Thomas looked at Lis a little suspiciously.

“What?” she asked with a somewhat ironic look.

“Didn’t you always say that younger men weren’t your thing?”

“Yes, I did!” She had to smile as she looked at Thomas, who was obviously quite surprised and curious.

“Don’t tell me this young man is your age … Not that it’s any of my business, don’t take this the wrong way, but …”

“But you want an answer, don’t you? You’re funny, Thomas!” She looked at him mockingly.

“Of course, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

Lis smiled mischievously. “Maybe I can answer two questions at once.”

Thomas looked at her curiously. Of course, he really wanted to know.

“Eric is my son.”

Thomas, who was about to bring the fork to his mouth, almost dropped it and slowly put it back on his plate.

His facial expression spoke volumes, changing from complete surprise to thoughtfulness, confusion, incomprehension, and then he quickly counted backwards in his mind. Mallorca, a good ten years ago. He quickly came to the conclusion that Eric had already existed back then. Lis had never mentioned him.

“I can see a lot of questions on your face,” Lis said. “I never mentioned Eric because you said quite early on in our relationship that you would rather have your freedom and that children were not an option for you.”

He interrupted her abruptly. “Hey, that was a bit different. I didn’t want a baby; I didn’t want a fresh start with a child … But you … I … Of course … I would have tolerated your son … I mean accepted, embraced. You should have talked to me about it. But where was Eric when we met at your house, when we were on vacation together?”

“He often spent his vacations with my parents in Luxembourg. And he also spent some time at a boarding school.”

“But … this boy, I mean this young man, how old is he, he looks quite grown up?”

Lis looked at Thomas for a while before she replied: “He’s twenty-four!”

“He’s … I see … So, you were about sixteen when you became a mother. What happened, a one-night stand?”

“You could call it that …”

“His father?”

“That wasn’t the right thing to do. I don’t want to dwell on this topic. Eric is a great boy, now a man, and that’s all that matters to me. And I love him more than anything.”

Thomas thought it was a good idea to change the subject. He didn’t want to burden his first meeting with Lis with any more questions.

“Hey, I’m so happy to see you again,” she confirmed.

“Me too.” When Thomas looked at her, he still felt the same butterflies in his stomach as back then. She had the gift of looking at someone with that melancholy gaze, with her clear green eyes, and the man opposite her literally melted away. Her long hair framed her oval face with its flawless skin, the perfectly shaped lips, the thick black eyelashes, no make-up; she was simply a natural beauty.

When she appeared in a tight dress, it was easy to mistake her for a movie star. But most of the time she wore jeans and a blouse or T-shirt.

The two of them talked at length about the past years, exchanging stories about many things that had happened. They left the restaurant quite late.

“We’ll keep in touch, yeah?” Thomas held her hand. It was obvious that he wanted to see Lis again.

“By all means! I’ll call.”

He accompanied Lis to the car and when she got in, he gently held her arm for a moment.

“I have another question: back in Mallorca, you had that weird knife tied around your ankle the whole time. Is it still there?”

Lis, who was already seated, looked at him and then pulled up the leg of her right pants. A leather shaft with a knife in it was tied around her ankle.

“Some things never change, even over the years.” She looked at him, half smiling, half serious, and winked.

“And I still don’t like surprises.” She gave him a wonderful, open smile and then closed the car door.

As Thomas was on his way home, he thought back to his romance with her. Lis. He hadn’t expected to see her again, but he had to admit to himself that he was still in love with this mysterious woman. He had realised that again tonight.