ZARA
“Today a photo of your daughter started circulating in the Active Homeland-Protection chats,” says Jenny. “I just came across it.”
Yasira closes her eyes, lowers her head and shakes it, as if this gesture of denial could change anything. “No, no,” she mumbles, “please no.”
“I’m sorry,” Jenny replies.
Yasira opens her eyes again. “Show me,” she says.
Jenny hands Yasira her smartphone. It’s indeed a photo of her daughter. She is sitting in the schoolyard next to two friends. Zara’s face is circled.
“These damn bastards,” curses Michael, who is now also standing next to Yasira.
“Who did this? Who took this picture?” she asks. “How did they find out that Zara is my daughter?”
But of course Jenny doesn’t have an answer.
“Don’t know,” she says. “Many possibilities are conceivable.”
“Maybe even a schoolmate,” Michael speculates.
Jenny nods. “Do you remember the teacher who was murdered by an Islamist in France in 2020?”
“Didn’t he show the Charlie Hebdo caricatures in class?” asks Michael.
“Yes. He was also ratted out by students to his murderer.”
Yasira massages her temples. “Damn it.” She feels a headache coming on.
Jenny attempts to take back her phone, but Yasira won’t let it go. Instead, she starts scrolling through the chat.
These scumbags even know her daughter’s name. She is correctly named as Zara Saad. The school address is also mentioned.
“Please,” says Jenny and holds out her hand for the phone. “Don’t do this to yourself. I’ll tell you what it says.”
Gently, Michael takes the phone from Yasira’s hand and gives it back to Jenny.
“How bad is it?” Yasira wants to know.
“There are no concrete plans,” says Jenny. “But there are . . .” she hesitates, “. . . mind games of . . .” she sighs, “. . . revenge rape.”
“What?”
“Revenge for Lena . . .”
“Really?” Yasira is stunned.
“Some of the men fantasize about raping you or your daughter and for some reason this is supposed to be revenge for Lena.”
“What does my daughter have to do with this?”
“I can’t explain the logic of these people.”
Yasira shakes her head.
“Can’t we get these assholes off the streets somehow?” asks Michael.
“Not really, as long as nothing’s happened,” says Jenny. “You know the issue. We can only really take action when it’s too late.”
“But we should knock on their door and really scare them,” says Michael.
“If we can track them down,” adds Jenny.
“Please try,” says Yasira.
“Of course.”
“What about my address?”
“Not yet. But someone just needs to follow Zara home from school.”
“What should I do?” asks Yasira, horrified. Powerless, she sinks into a chair. “What should I do? Should I tell her? I have to tell her, don’t I?”
In all the years at the BKA, she’s been through quite a few threatening moments, but her daughter has never been in danger before. She would like to rush off to school immediately.
“You have to tell her,” Jenny insists.
“In fact, it’s best if you take her out of school for a few days,” Michael suggests. “Just to be on the safe side.”
Yasira nods.
“Can’t she stay with your ex for a while?” asks Jenny.
Yasira snorts. “That would suit him. If he finds out about the whole thing, I don’t know if I’ll ever get her back.” She considers. “But maybe I’ll send her to my parents for a week?”
“Do that,” Jenny suggests.
“Give me the address,” says Michael. “I’ll make sure there’s a patrol outside the house.”
Isn’t that too much, Yasira wants to ask. But then she thinks about what’s at stake. No precaution is too much. If anything happened to Zara, she would never forgive herself.
So she just nods.
“I . . . I can’t think straight,” she mumbles. “Should I pick her up from school? Or is that an exaggeration? What if someone is waiting there and following her?”
“I’ll pick her up,” Michael says immediately. “I’ll take a few loops. If someone’s following us, I’ll shake them off.”
Yasira is infinitely grateful to him.
“Best you don’t go to our place at all, but straight to my parents.”
“Of course,” says Michael.
Yasira looks at her watch.
“She finishes school in less than half an hour.”
“I’m on my way there now.”
Yasira stands up and gives her partner a hug. “Thank you.”
“Sure. Anytime.”
Michael grabs his coat and leaves the office.
“Hey,” says Jenny, gently squeezing Yasira’s arm. “You need to call Zara.”
“You’re right,” says Yasira. “Of course.”
Yasira dials her daughter’s number. Obviously Zara doesn’t answer, as she still has lessons, so Yasira sends her a voice message. And for the first time, she is glad that her daughter keeps looking at her phone. She will definitely see the message.
“Zara,” she says, “listen to me . . .”
Then she deletes the voice message again.
She has to think about what she wants to say first. She has to make the seriousness of the situation clear to Zara without appearing too panicked herself. Clear and focused. Yasira tries again.
“Zara. You could be in danger because of my involvement in the Lena case. A picture of you has popped up in Active Homeland-Protection Telegram groups. They also know the address of your school. I am so sorry! But the situation is under control. Michael will pick you up today and take you straight to Grandma and Grandpa. Please call me. And stay in the school building in case Michael isn’t there when school ends.
There might be some asshole who’s already lying in wait for you. ”