The Camera Killer

True, said my partner; she also tended to dismiss reports of an earthquake with some indifference, whereas the children’s murder had touched her deeply, probably because it had occurred so close at hand.

  They were children, Sonja, Heinrich put in; that was an additional factor. I reminded the other two that we perceive tears only if we actually see them and that we have to be familiar with faces in order to be able to sense their pain. That fitted in with Heinrich’s theory, I said. Yugoslav faces were more familiar to us than those of swarthy desert dwellers. My partner and Heinrich said I was right.

  Silence reigned for a while. All present watched the cats promenading across the yard or lying around and periodically scratching themselves.

  My partner remarked that Heinrich hadn’t finished his account. Ghastly or not, she wanted to know how the other boy had met his death. Speaking in a low voice so as not to upset his wife again, Heinrich recounted what he had seen on the Internet. He did, however, preface this by mentioning that a special television program would be transmitted from the victims’ hometown, which was less than six miles away, in about twenty-five minutes’ time. He suggested driving over there. In view of Eva’s state of mind, we declined. After a moment’s reflection, Heinrich conceded that we were right.

  Accordingly, he went on with his account. The dead boy was exhaustively filmed and then left lying in situ. The man shepherded the two surviving children through the forest and interviewed them with special reference to their brother’s death. At no point was he ever unfriendly. He didn’t hit them, just subjected them to psychological pressure until they yielded to his will and did all he demanded of them.

  One particular task the cameraman set them was absurd, Heinrich said. When they were passing an isolated, seldom-used barn containing a small quantity of hay, he ordered them to set fire to the timber building. For this purpose, he turned the hog-tied brother loose. In some manner not described in detail, the killer’s threats had rendered the children so submissive that, when the barn was on fire, the older boy submitted to the leash once more instead of trying to escape with the other one. Once the man had filmed the blaze and questioned the surviving brothers about their emotions on camera, they withdrew into the depths of the forest once more.

  The second murder was not long in coming. The eight-year-old was made to climb a tall tree. This he did only because the killer threatened to cut off the nine-year-old’s ears, underlining the words by holding a knife to his head. Then came a repetition of what had happened in the case of the first brother. The boy on the ground was filmed being asked if he was scared on behalf of his brother up the tree. The latter was also questioned about his feelings and reminded that his parents and his brother would die an incredibly painful death unless he jumped within the next ten minutes. He still had ten minutes—how did that strike him?

  What a sadist, my partner put in—what an infamous criminal!

  Another eight minutes, said Heinrich—or rather, said the cameraman. Another five. Another three... The camera was not turned off. At zero seconds, the boy jumped.

  The silence that followed this account was broken by Heinrich’s injunction to watch the special broadcast. Eva refused and remained in the kitchen. The rest of us seated ourselves on the sofa and in an armchair in the living room. We propped our legs on the knee-high coffee table. Heinrich rose and went to get some chips, which he emptied into a big white bowl. He had only just sat down when he had to get up again. The sun was so low that the television screen reflected it and obscured the picture. After Heinrich had blacked out the windows with some drapes lying ready for the purpose, the program began.

  The presenter gave a brief summary of what had happened, largely repeating what Heinrich had already told us. He added that the crime had evoked an incredible response, as viewers would shortly be able to see for themselves. Then came some live shots of the bereaved family’s hometown. A makeshift platform had been erected in Frauenkirchen’s main square and was ringed by thousands of spectators. Standing on it were a woman reporter and the weeping mayor. Easter bonfires were burning in the far distance. The television showed pictures of the crowd. Photographers with flashguns and television cameramen jostled and shouted wildly in its midst as they tried to go about their work.

  Just look at this, Heinrich exclaimed—it’s insane.

  The crowd briefly quieted when the reporter started to speak, but uproar broke out after she had said only a few words. People stormed the platform, thrust the reporter aside, and yelled at the camera, swearing to find the perpetrator and kill him. Everyone was shouting at once. We even heard two gunshots. A camera in an elevated position (possibly the window of a private residence rented for the occasion) panned over the mob until it located the gunman just as he loosed off a third round: An elderly man in hunter’s costume and a gray hat fired his rifle in the air. The shot did not, however, have a tranquilizing effect. The crowd continued to yell and rampage and shake their fists in the air with undiminished ferocity, not that it was clear whom their gestures were aimed at.

  Just look, just look, Heinrich kept saying, and my partner exclaimed that the whole affair defied belief.

  Since the woman reporter had now been swallowed up by the crowd, we were returned to the studio. The presenter said it was incredible what people were capable of. Heinrich wondered aloud if he meant the murderer or the mob. A psychologist was questioned about such details of the crime as were already known. The occupants of the living room promptly agreed that his remarks made no sense.

  Cut to the seething mob again. The woman reporter had taken refuge in the mayor’s office. There she interviewed Frauenkirchen’s leading citizen and other persons who were locally prominent or acquainted with the victims’ family. The din in the background was clearly audible.

  After that, reports of the hunt for the killer were broadcast from the studio. Various forensic sketches were shown and telephone numbers screened. The presenter stated that a full-scale manhunt had been initiated and several leads were being followed up. The Ministry of the Interior had, however, imposed a news blackout twenty minutes earlier. Viewers were referred to the News in Pictures program at 7:30 p.m., but if any significant new development occurred in the next few minutes or hours, the channel would go live.

  Heinrich pronounced the program frightful when it ended.

  My partner merely shook her head.

  The phone rang. With a sigh, Heinrich hurried out into the passage and picked up. Hello, Mother, he said. Yes, he’d already heard, he’d just been watching the program. He returned to the living room carrying the phone, which was equipped with an extension cord. Resuming his seat, he deposited the phone on the coffee table.

  In a low voice, my partner asked what could possibly be going on in the heads and hearts of the parents; she dreaded to imagine.

  Eva came in. Heedless of the fact that Heinrich was on the phone, she complained of the trouble she would have to go to replace the extension cord behind the bookcase. It was time he got out of the habit of phoning in the living room, she said. Heinrich made a dismissive gesture. Still on the phone, he picked up the remote control with his free hand and switched from channel to channel. Six out of twenty-five channels were currently reporting on the crime in West Styria.

  We pricked up our ears when a German commercial station broadcast some dramatic news. It had obtained a leaked copy of the films the criminal had made of his victims. After much internal discussion, the editorial board had decided to televise excerpts from them at some still-to-be-determined time, but in the very near future, in order to give the world a graphic illustration of the enormity of the crime in question.

  Heinrich uttered a yell. They’re going to show the video, they’re going to show the video, he shouted into the receiver and told the person on the other end of the line (presumably his mother) the name of the channel.

  He started to hang up but was evidently dissuaded by his interlocutor. No, he said, Eva and he were not going to celebrate Easter in a
big way, their visitors had come for a holiday, not for a Christian festival, and no, he wanted some peace and quiet; he definitely wasn’t going to Mass, so would the person on the line stop bending his ear about it. The Catholic Church, he declared, was a disgusting bunch of power-hungry hypocrites and pedophiles whose crazy German overlord posed as the representative of some nonexistent being. It might even have been one of his minions that had chased the Frauenkirchen children through the forest with his cassock fluttering, panting as he did so.

  Heinrich said a curt good-bye and hung up, swearing to himself.

  Eva snatched up the phone and replaced it in its cradle. She also participated in the argument over whether we should watch the murder pictures. Leaning against the doorpost and wringing her hands, she begged Heinrich to spare us.

  She might be right, said Heinrich, but he couldn’t help it, he simply had to watch them. My partner said she felt the same way. I expressed a similar sentiment.

  After some ten minutes’ argument, Eva said she would have to watch the program herself. Heinrich waxed indignant. Why talk such nonsense? He wouldn’t allow her to watch it—she would have nightmares and so on. She retorted that he was to blame, with his stupid news reports and accounts and descriptions. He had dragooned her into it. Now she wanted to watch it. So saying, she left the room. Heinrich jumped up and followed her out. They could be heard arguing in the kitchen for a while.

  My partner and I exchanged glances. I was feeling hungry, so I went into the kitchen to get myself a slice of bread. My appearance put an end to the altercation between Eva and Heinrich. Eva cut me a thick slice of bread with a kitchen knife some ten inches long. Would one be enough? she asked. I nodded.

  She opened the refrigerator and asked me what I would like on it. She picked up a salami sausage in her left hand and showed it to me. Transferring it to her right hand, she picked up a lump of Swiss cheese in her left and looked at me inquiringly. Then she replaced the salami in the refrigerator and transferred the cheese to her right hand. With her left hand, she removed a fresh packet of butter (organic, the wrapper said so) from the refrigerator. By passing objects from her left hand to her right in this manner and replacing them in the refrigerator, she was offering me a choice of toppings. I opted for cheese spread.

  Eva apologized to me for no reason. This horrible business was getting on her nerves, she said. If her indisposition was blighting the atmosphere, she was sorry and would take care not to do so again.

  We went back into the living room, where my partner and Heinrich were discussing the fact that the murders had brought, or would bring, reporters to West Styria from all over the world. This might give the tourist industry a boost, said Heinrich. In this connection, he pointed to the cannibalistic crimes committed by a certain Mr. Dahmer, whom he called a monster without equal. To the best of his knowledge, however, the hunt for Mr. Dahmer and his capture had not aroused as much interest in the media.

  My partner objected that injuring, robbing, and murdering other people was commonplace in the United States, so those whose actions transgressed the socially accepted bounds of brutality could not expect to attract much attention there. In a civilized Central European country, by contrast, any murder was of importance, and one such as had occurred yesterday in West Styria was correspondingly sensational.

  Eva endorsed this view. She also apologized to my partner.

  The latter brushed this aside, but she did express the belief that it was essential not to take the world’s misfortunes too hard because this was detrimental to one’s own well-being.

  The Stubenrauchs now asked what we, being their guests, would like to have for supper. My partner reminded them of our Easter lunch. I begged them not to go to any trouble. Eva said she would like to make us something special. Heinrich and my partner persuaded her not to devote too much time and effort to supper. This would give us an opportunity to engage in activities that were more fun for all concerned (playing games, talking, etc.). Once agreement had been reached (spaghetti Bolognese), we devoted ourselves to the news, unchallenged by Eva.

  Austrian Broadcasting’s news ticker was reporting that a German commercial station was planning to televise extracts from the murder video. Heinrich remarked that this was the first time ORF had advertised on behalf of a commercial channel. The news reported that the archbishop of Vienna had issued a statement. He appealed to the German TV station not to transmit the projected program because it would not only be an affront to the dead children’s memory and human dignity but also have unpredictable consequences on various levels.

  Addressing himself to the West Styrian demonstrators, whose numbers were reported to be steadily swelling, he urged them to refrain from physical violence and join with him and the whole of Austria—indeed, with the entire world—in praying for the victims and their parents. The pope himself was praying for the victims, he added. “The holy father has personally assured the children’s parents of his profound sympathy and included them in his prayers.”

  That’ll please them, sneered Heinrich.

  Re: the possibility of beatification under Benedict XVI: “Members of the clergy have urged that the dead children be beatified, a suggestion opposed by a leading theologian. The victims have not been dead for long enough, he says.”

  Reactions from the political parties: “The People’s Party speaks of a dark day for Austria. The Freedom Party expresses its belief that such disasters are encouraged by a judicial system overly favorable to offenders and proposes a referendum on the reintroduction of the death penalty. The Greens declare that the government parties have now been proved to have failed in respect of psychotherapy and the social services.”

  The chancellor: “Evil exists. The federal chancellor has stated that evil exists and that it is the duty of the state to protect its citizens.”

  Heinrich: Yeah, yeah, you loser.

  Heinrich spent a while switching from channel to channel. The four persons present found it difficult to coordinate their response to these reports. A German station was showing live shots of demonstrators gathering outside the studio of the commercial station that was planning to televise the murder video in an hour’s time. Oh-oh, said Heinrich, and he switched to the murder video channel itself. It made no mention of the demonstrators on its doorstep. Heinrich switched back again.

  The woman presenter said that hundreds of police were on their way to protect the TV station and its staff. More and more demonstrators were taking up their positions, armed with placards, signs, and banners. It was uncertain whether they would confine themselves to this noisy but nonviolent expression of opinion.

  A police spokesman called it an explosive situation. What could be done to prevent the situation from escalating? he was asked. All he could think of, he replied, was that the station should refrain from televising the tape. He was there to protect the studio, but he ventured to point out that he himself was the father of two children and would like to take this opportunity to send his condolences to Austria. He fully understood the demonstrators’ emotions. Things like this should not be shown on television—that, at least, was his personal opinion. There were people employed by the Austrian police who worried him. Far be it for him to prejudge his Austrian counterparts, but only a policeman could have leaked the video to the TV station.

  The woman interviewer put her hand to her earpiece. She nodded and said, “More news just in.” In view of the mass protests, the broadcaster had agreed to transmit the video at an hour when children were in bed.

  Or up a tree or under it, the policeman interjected in a strident voice.

  The interviewer went on to say that it had been agreed to transmit the program at 11:30 p.m. In spite of the demonstrations, there was no discernible reason why the transmission should be dispensed with altogether. Certain matters escaped human comprehension; they cried out for pictures.

  The policeman shrugged his shoulders. He could offer no guarantees, he repeated several times; the crowd was very heated
.

  Heinrich clapped his hands. Half past eleven, then! he said.

  Eva rose and said she would make supper. My partner followed her into the kitchen. Their argument over whether my partner, being a guest, was entitled to help make the sauce—after all, she said, she had helped Eva the day before—was audible in the living room.

  Heinrich searched for other television channels reporting on the murders. There was no more news for a while. Then Austrian television announced in a ticker at the foot of the screen that the federal president intended to address the nation during the News in Pictures program at 7:30 p.m. Moreover, the evening program had been changed. In view of the occasion, the Easter Vigil service in St. Stephen’s Cathedral would be televised at 10:00 p.m.

  Heinrich went into the kitchen to inform the two women. My partner came hurrying into the living room and asked if it were true the federal president would be speaking. I confirmed this. Heinrich, who had come in behind my partner, smiled and called it typical of the man. He made some more derogatory remarks about our head of state and was unsparing with his unkind comments on Austrian Broadcasting’s programmers, who were obviously dominated by clerics. It was outrageous of them to transmit Catholic religious services; what he’d like best would be to convert to Islam or Buddhism in protest. Remarking that he felt tremendously overwrought, he stretched out on the sofa.

  My partner flitted back into the kitchen in her woolen stockings.

  Under the ticker headline “Police cordon off wide area,” Heinrich found: “A sizable contingent of police and paramilitaries is currently cordoning off the area around the crime scene. From evidence that cannot be made public, it is suspected that, despite his obviously temporary presence in the Kaiserwald autobahn service area, the perpetrator has not quit the district. A suspicious car or suspicious license number has been identified.”

  Heinrich asked me if I thought this possible. If he were the killer, he said, he wouldn’t have hung around. I pointed out that the man might be a local inhabitant. Also in favor of this was the fact that the victims belonged to the family of a locally prominent individual—namely, the fire chief. It might have been an act of revenge, I said. Heinrich said I had a point.