‘I don’t do it for money. If my expenses are covered that’s all I care about. And in some cases not even that. I hate cults. I hate what they do to people.’
‘And is the Pharos Project your particular focus of interest, Herr Flemming?’
‘Of late, probably. We live in strange times, Herr Fabel. Most of the religious and spiritual certainties have fallen by the wayside. Christianity, Marxism, Nationalism… Everything is changing, becoming more technological, globalised, faster. People feel overwhelmed and they’re looking to more and more abstract concepts for some kind of guidance. The Pharos Project is very clever with its pitch, particularly to the vulnerable. My personal belief is that it is the most dangerous cult on the planet.’
‘So Herr Kebir believes Meliha has been recruited and brainwashed?’
‘No, I’m afraid we’re all pretty sure that Meliha has been murdered. She wasn’t an acolyte, she was an infiltrator. But I won’t stop searching for her until we are sure one way or the other. There is always the chance that they have kept her alive somewhere.’
‘Berthold Muller-Voigt was her lover. He was convinced she’d uncovered a secret that would have done massive damage to the Pharos Project. Do you think she was onto something big?’
‘I don’t know,’ Flemming shrugged. ‘It could be. I only came into this after the fact, as it were. But I think it’s entirely possible that she found out something about either the Korn-Pharos Corporation or the Pharos Project. She was totally dedicated to exposing false environmental prophets, from what I’ve been told.’
‘But you’ve had experience of dealing with people who have been involved with the Project?’ asked Werner.
‘We’ve liberated four former members so far. Technically, we’ve broken the law each time but after the rescued member has been “deprogrammed” they have been grateful rather than wanting to press charges. You asked me why I’m so secretive about what we do. I think you are beginning to get an idea of how ruthless Pharos can be. They don’t like losing members; not just because they resent the loss of a revenue stream, but because ex-members are likely to talk about what goes on in the cult.’
‘And the ones you’ve liberated — have they talked?’
‘Yes, but the cult is structured in such a way that each member has a very restricted view of the whole organisation. But, by piecing things together, we’ve built up an idea of some of the more secret aspects of the Project.’
‘Such as?’
‘Such as unregulated experiments in Brain Computer Interface — a branch of neuroscience that just happens to fit in with Dominik Korn’s weird ideas. It’s all about micro-thin sensors implanted in the brains of people with disabilities to connect them to external technology — blind subjects being able to see again through an external artificial eye, amputees having full sensory control over robotic prostheses, that kind of thing. There are even complex versions already developed to help people with specific kinds of paralysis. I’m sure you can see why Dominik Korn, given his condition, has a vested personal interest in funding development of this area.’
Fabel found himself thinking of Johann Reisch, a man desperate for exactly that type of technology. But it had been too late for him.
‘So are you really suggesting that the Pharos Project is carrying out illegal surgery on members in pursuit of a better class of electric wheelchair for Korn?’ he asked.
‘You have to remember that many of the cult’s members are only too willing to take part. “Enhancement” is seen as a step on the path to realising singularity.’
‘God…’ said Fabel. ‘These people are really taken in by this stuff?’
‘No matter how sophisticated their technology or how much cash they’ve got in the pot, the Pharos Project is just another destructive loony cult like any other. And that means the same old tricks. They restrict the calorie intake and the amount of sleep of their members to dull their mental responses. Sometimes even sedate them slightly. It all makes new subjects more amenable to indoctrination. The problem we have is that when we “liberate” one of them, it is, to all intents and purposes, abduction. We hold them against their will in a secret location and use the same kind of brainwashing techniques as the cults we’ve freed them from, except in reverse. Then we introduce them back to their families. That’s usually the end of it, except some cults make an effort to track down ex-members. In the case of the Pharos Project, they use Consolidators — officers of the Consolidation and Compliance Office.’
‘And that’s who you think pushed my car into the Elbe?’
‘I’m certain of it. There are even rumours that some Consolidators have been “augmented” — taken that extra step on the path to becoming consolidated. Special implants to boost hearing, improve sight by giving them infrared vision, that type of crap. Personally I think it’s all cult hype. Even the Pharos Project doesn’t have that kind of technology at its disposal. Yet.’
‘Well,’ said Fabel. ‘I have to say your intelligence gathering is excellent. I mean, you seem to be extremely well informed…’
‘We have to be. We’re up against sophisticated enemies.’
‘Mmm…’ said Fabel thoughtfully. ‘Do you happen to know someone called Fabian Menke? He works for the BfV.’
‘No. Can’t say I do,’ said Flemming, and there was nothing in his expression for Fabel to read. ‘Should I?’
‘No. It’s just that I thought your paths might have crossed.’
They had just left Flemming’s office when Anna Wolff called Fabel on his cellphone.
‘Jan, I think we’ve found Freese.’
‘That was quick.’
‘To be honest, he’s made it pretty easy for us. There’s a guy walking across the Kohlbrandbrucke bridge. He’s taken potshots at passing motorists. It sounds like the same guy who was reported to have waved a gun around at the model-railway museum in the Speicherstadt. From the description, it sounds like Freese.’
Chapter Thirty-Three
The Kohlbrandbrucke was a sweeping arc of road bridge suspended from two 135-metre-high stanchions that gave the impression of inverted giant tuning forks. By the time Fabel got there with Werner, the uniformed branch had sealed off the bridge to traffic. He could see that about seven hundred metres beyond the police barricade a Thyssen TM 170 armoured car of the Polizei Hamburg’s MEK Mobile Deployment Commando was parked at an angle across the carriageway. A team of MEK officers, clad in black helmets and body armour, used the TM 170 for cover while training their weapons on the figure who stood on the parapet, looking down at the river. Fabel estimated that the armed man was roughly at the centre of the bridge, which meant there was a fifty-metre drop beneath him to the water.
‘I need to get up there,’ Fabel said to the uniformed Senior Commissar at the barrier, pointing to the armoured car. ‘With a bullhorn.’
Once Fabel and Werner were kitted out with body armour and helmets, two MEK officers led their crouching half-run to the TM 170, shielding them from the armed man on the bridge with Kevlar shields.
‘That’s all we need… tourists,’ said the senior MEK officer when the two murder detectives reached the TM 170.
‘How’s it going, Bastian?’ Fabel asked. ‘Shoot anyone I know recently?’
Bastian Schwager nodded towards the figure on the bridge. ‘What’s the Murder Commission’s interest in this bozo?’
‘We think he topped the guy fished out of the water yesterday. He’s some kind of eco-terrorist. But he’s also got some pretty major mental health issues. He’s potentially suicidal.’
‘If he waves that handgun in our direction once more, Jan, I’m going to have to save him the trouble.’
‘Listen, Bastian, this guy is a key witness,’ said Fabel. ‘I really need to talk to him. Can we get closer?’
‘And give him an easier target? I don’t think so. From what you’ve said, mental illness or no, he represents a threat to more than himself.’ Schwager sighed and pointed to the bullhorn. ‘Okay, use that and tell him we’re moving the armoured car closer so that you can hear what he has to say.’