‘Oh?’ she said. ‘We’ve never done a non-paying job before.’
‘This is a self-protection thing. Someone is beginning to ask too many questions in the right places. A policeman. And he’s maybe getting a little too close to home. We may need to deal with it. Discreetly.’
‘When?’
‘I’ll let you know. It may come to nothing. Goodbye, my child.’
‘Goodbye, Uncle Georg.’
After she left, he remained on the bench, fists rammed into his coat pockets, his collar turned up against the cold, and tried to recapture that moment of peace. But he couldn’t.
4
Fabel drove into the Police Presidium in Hamburg-Alsterdorf at ten-thirty a.m. He had only managed to get five hours’ sleep and felt leaden and dull. He spent the rest of the morning preparing for the team briefing. His weariness suddenly intensified when he was intercepted in the lift by Criminal Director Horst van Heiden.
‘A word, Jan…’ Van Heiden pressed the button for the fifth storey, the top-brass floor, signalling that the word was formal.
Fabel followed van Heiden into his office and sat down. When van Heiden sat down on the executive leather chair behind his desk, he straightened his tie and adjusted a notebook and pen on his desk. When the order of his bureaucratic universe was once more restored, he began.
‘I just wanted to catch up with a couple of things. Are you okay for this conference on violence against women? I’ve had the organiser on the phone again. I think she’s worried that we’ll send someone junior.’
‘It may come to that, if I’m honest.’
‘This murder last night?’ asked van Heiden.
‘I take it that was one of the things you wanted to talk to me about…’ Fabel failed to keep the weariness from his voice.
‘It’s all over the media,’ said van Heiden. ‘And there are some elements who blame us for not catching the Angel the first time round. If that is indeed who we’re dealing with.’
‘That I don’t know, Horst. I actually think it’s very unlikely. The modus is totally different. But I’m digging out all the old files. Obviously, it wasn’t my case the first time around.’
‘Mmm…’ Van Heiden again nudged the silver pen a fraction of a degree. ‘That’s the thing… I’ll be quite frank about this, Jan, we are getting a lot of funding from the BKA for you to set up this Super Murder Commission.’ The BKA was the Bundeskriminalamt, the Federal Crime Bureau. ‘It’s quite an accolade for the Polizei Hamburg to have a unit that will have a republic-wide brief. Within legal restraints, I mean,’ van Heiden continued. ‘As I’ve said to you before, it is an opportunity for us to establish ourselves as the centre of excellence in investigating complex and multiple murders in much the same way as the Institute for Judicial Medicine at Eppendorf is seen as the centre of excellence in forensic science.’
‘But…?’ Fabel raised an eyebrow. Van Heiden was beginning to sound like a commercial. And he always did a commercial before he hit you with the punchline.
‘But I do not delude myself that the reputation that has won us this accolade is a collective one. It’s yours, Jan. You’re the one everyone thinks of as Germany’s leading expert on complex and multiple murder cases.’
‘Thanks for the compliment.’ There was a resigned scepticism in Fabel’s smile. They both knew that van Heiden was getting pats on the back for Fabel’s achievement. ‘But let me guess: I inherit the Angel of St Pauli case that no one could solve in the nineties and, if I don’t get a result, suddenly my reputation takes a knock.’
‘Something like that.’
‘Well, for what it’s worth, I really don’t think this is the work of the Angel. But I’m not ready to go on record with that yet.’ Fabel stood up.
‘Oh…’ Van Heiden reached into a drawer and took out a letter. ‘There was something else. We’ve received a request for an interview from the Danish police.’
‘What about?’ Fabel leaned over his desk and took the letter from him.
‘It doesn’t say. As you know, the Danish police have a liaison officer here, but this has come direct from a Politidirektor Vestergaard. One of his officers, Jens Jespersen, is flying in from Copenhagen, specifically to speak to you. There are no other details. It would appear that your reputation is becoming truly international.’
After checking all his drawers, without success, to see if he had left his MP3 player in the office, Fabel had a coffee and a cheese roll at his desk before taking a few minutes to prepare himself for his meeting with Anna Wolff. He knew it was going to be a difficult one. So did Anna, if her expression was anything to go by when she walked into his office, as always without knocking.
‘Sit down Anna,’ said Fabel.
‘What is this?’ she said, still standing. ‘Am I getting the sack?’
Fabel sighed deeply. ‘Yes, Anna. Effectively you are.’
For the first time since he had known her, Anna looked truly taken aback. She dropped down into the chair and gazed at Fabel blankly.
‘I’m sorry, Anna. I’m going to request that you be reassigned. I’ve warned you more times than I can remember about your attitude.’
‘What? Is this because of the crack I made last night?’
‘Not exclusively, Anna, but I’ve got to tell you it didn’t help. I need officers who will respect the decisions I make and follow the orders I give. Most of all, I need a team that pulls together. I need people I can rely on.’
‘Are you saying you can’t rely on me? When have I ever let you down?’ Anna did what she could to restore her composure.
‘Listen, Anna, it’s a constant struggle trying to build and maintain an efficient Murder Commission team. Added to that I now have this added responsibility that the BKA have asked me to take on. Over the last four years we have seen Paul Lindemann killed and Maria Klee
… well, Maria is going to need care for a long, long time.’
‘You don’t need to tell me about Paul Lindemann,’ said Anna, once more defiant. ‘He was my partner, after all. And Maria was my friend.’
‘And they were both my responsibility.’ Fabel paused. ‘I know you were close to them both, Anna. But Paul’s death and what happened to Maria have made it very clear to me that we have to tighten up our procedures. We need to operate as a fully disciplined unit. The discipline we need is a discipline that you seem to lack.’
There was silence for a moment. Anna looked at Fabel as if trying to read his face; to measure what room for negotiation there might be. Something like resignation settled into her expression.
‘I thought you put us together as a team because we were all different. Because we each had something to offer.’
‘I did,’ said Fabel. ‘But I need this Murder Commission to work cohesively. No loose cannons or personal agendas.’
‘Oh, wait a minute… This is all about Maria, isn’t it? Because she took off on a personal crusade you decide to crack down on… on individuality.’
‘I’m not talking about you expressing your individuality, Anna. I’m talking about you totally ignoring the fact that you’re part of a team.’ Fabel realised he had raised his voice. He took a breath, then, in a measured tone, said: ‘I can’t have a renegade on my team, Anna.’
‘I’ll bet.’ Anna’s expression was close to a sneer. ‘That would screw up your chances of becoming Germany’s Crime Fighter Number One. What is it, Jan — are you afraid I’ll embarrass you?’ This time it was Anna who paused. ‘I’m sorry. This is where I want to work. If you transfer me, I’ll quit.’
‘That’s your decision, Anna. And believe me, I wanted things to work out differently. I wanted to move you up to become joint deputy with Werner. But I can’t recommend you for a Senior Commissarship because of your attitude.’
‘Have you put the papers in yet?’ asked Anna. ‘For my transfer, I mean.’
‘Not yet. I’ve got to get this new Angel case rolling. The other thing is I wanted to give you the chance to put in for a transfer yourself. It would look better on your CV.’