‘And what does this have to do with my client?’ asked Harmsen.
‘Let me get to that. Sociopathy, as a personality disorder, is much more common than one would think. A mildly sociopathic personality is probably something of an advantage in the corporate world; the “ruthless businessman” is very often someone who is supremely egocentric and blind to the feelings of others. Daniel Fottinger was certainly such a businessman, as was his father before him, from what I can see. Daniel must not have seemed the ideal candidate for you to recruit into the Project, but you already had his independently wealthy wife and you needed Fottinger’s business to work in harmony with the Korn-Pharos Corporation. I don’t know, but it was probably your intention that, when you had him brainwashed sufficiently, Fottinger Environmental Technologies would become absorbed into the Korn empire.’
‘I still don’t see-’ began Wiegand’s lawyer.
‘Your brainwashing techniques started to work on Fottinger, mainly because the concept of a virtual world peopled with self-aware programs appealed to his already skewed ideas. But he was a bit of a thorn in the side, wasn’t he, Herr Wiegand? My guess is that his behaviour became increasingly erratic. I would also guess that you perhaps started to encounter problems with how he interacted with the female members of your little group.’ Fabel paused. ‘So how does that have anything to do with you, Herr Wiegand? I’ll tell you. A young environmental activist and web-journalist calling herself Meliha Yazar infiltrated your organisation. Somehow she gained access to the deepest levels of the Project. She discovered something big. Something so big that it could bring the Project down. And because she gained that knowledge, you had her killed. Then, because you thought she had passed that information on to her lover, Berthold Muller-Voigt, you had him killed too. You even arranged for me to be shoved off a pier and into the Elbe because you thought I was getting close to the truth, which I was.’
‘Are you going to enlighten us?’ asked Wiegand. Fabel could see the billionaire did not feel threatened. He knew that accusations were one thing; having the evidence to back them up was another. His counsel remained quiet.
‘First of all, let’s talk about the death of Daniel Fottinger. You arranged that, too. Your Consolidators actually run the Guardians of Gaia and you used poor, confused Niels Freese to kill Fottinger.’
‘And why,’ asked Harmsen, ‘would my client do that?’
‘Because of the big secret that Meliha Yazar discovered, the knowledge that Herr Wiegand here has tried so hard to wipe off the face of the planet.’
‘And what is this “big secret”?’ asked Harmsen.
‘That Daniel Fottinger was the Network Killer.’
There was a pause. Nothing to read on Wiegand’s face. Less certainty on Harmsen’s.
Fabel turned to Wiegand again. ‘As Fottinger got more and more drawn into your wacky ideas — ideas that actually made sense of his experience, just as they did with Niels Freese — he became more and more out of control. He spent up to six hours a night logged into Virtual Dimension, leading a substitute life that spilled out into the real world. He arranged to meet these women online, then raped and strangled them, dumping their bodies in the waterways around the city. You found out about it but couldn’t get to him before he got to his last victim. In fact, I suspect you didn’t find out about it until you caught Meliha Yazar. Am I right?’
Wiegand remained impassive and silent.
‘So your Consolidators did a clean-up operation,’ continued Fabel, ‘wiping out all trace of any online contact between Julia Henning and all the other victims and Fottinger. You even cold-stored her body until after Fottinger’s death so that he would not be connected to the murders.’
Wiegand remained silent for a split second, then burst into laughter. His lawyer, however, did not even break a smile.
‘You know something, Fabel?’ Wiegand leaned forward, his shaven head gleaming in the artificial light of the interview room, his eyes hard and cold. ‘You’re the one with the problem with reality. Everything you’ve said is absurd. Pure, unadulterated fantasy.’
‘Is it? It certainly was embarrassing enough for you. You messed with Fottinger’s mind just that little too much, too quickly. He had sociopathic tendencies. Not immediately apparent, and the type that make for ruthlessness in business. But what you didn’t know was that he had a history of sexual assaults, all covered up by Daddy. Your crackpot theories started to appeal to his sense of superiority; his belief that there were people out there who weren’t real people. That maybe all of this isn’t reality at all, but some kind of simulation. A game. He probably convinced himself that the women he raped and strangled didn’t even feel what he was doing to them. That they were philosophical zombies programmed to simulate fear and pain.’
‘Do you have any actual proof with which to back up these allegations?’ asked the lawyer.
‘That was the object of this morning’s raids. Our first was less than successful. There was a young woman at the headquarters of the Guardians of Gaia, the same young woman who had tried to compromise me by giving me the identity of Julia Henning before her body was discovered. Anyway, this young woman was dressed a lot like one of your Consolidators and she detonated a bomb that wiped out the evidence we needed. Wiped herself out, too. But we’ve got material from the Pharos and Technical Section is taking that apart, bit by bit, at the moment. I’m afraid you’ll be our guest until they’re finished.’
‘Then I wish you luck,’ said Wiegand. ‘Because if you don’t find anything with which to substantiate these outrageous claims, then I’ll be having a very long conversation with Frau Harmsen here about our options.’
After Fabel suspended the interview, he went back up to the Murder Commission. He sat for a moment at his desk, gazing absently at the three books that Anna had left there for him. The books that they had found on Meliha Kebir’s bedside table. Nineteen Eighty-Four. Silent Spring. The Judge and His Hangman.
Werner came in and slumped in the seat opposite.
‘We’re fucked, aren’t we?’
‘All in all, I think that sums up our situation quite well. We’ll keep him overnight and hope that the tech boys turn something up. How did Anna and Henk get on with Badorf?’
‘They didn’t. Badorf’s keeping his mouth shut, except to demand that someone produces some evidence against him. They’re a pretty confident bunch, Jan. By the way, there’s a complete “infirmary” on the second floor of the Pharos. The guys doing the search say that, given the size of this infirmary, Pharos members must be very accident-prone or a pretty unhealthy bunch.’
‘Operating theatre?’
‘Looks like there has been one, but it’s been cleared out. Again, no proof we can present in court. You thinking about catching up on your reading?’ He nodded towards the books on the desk.
‘Do you think you should listen to dreams?’ asked Fabel.
Werner frowned. ‘You’re not coming apart on me, are you, Jan?’
‘I dreamt about Paul Lindemann again. He told me to remember these books.’
‘No, Jan,’ said Werner. ‘ You told yourself to remember these books. That’s the way dreams work. The people in them aren’t real, you know. They’re just there to tell you what you already know; what’s locked up somewhere in your subconscious, or some shit like that.’
‘I know that, Werner. But it’s odd. It was so like Paul.’
There was a knock and Kroeger stuck his head around the door and asked if he could join them.
‘Well?’ Fabel asked once the Cybercrime Unit officer had sat down next to Werner.
‘Nothing so far. I’ve got half a dozen of my best people out at the Pharos going through every file, every piece of data, and I’ve had a dozen hard drives brought back here. We’ve focused on Wiegand’s and Badorf’s computers, just as you suggested, as well as the hardware used by the Office of Consolidation and Compliance, but we’ve come up empty. Sorry.’