‘Are you mad?’ A vein throbbed visibly in Andrea’s neck. ‘He nearly killed me. Didn’t you see the state he left me in?’
‘Listen, Frau Sandow …’ Fabel made his tone as conciliatory as possible. ‘You have to trust me when I say I know exactly how sick and perverted this creep is. But I just need to know if things had maybe started off consensual and then got out of hand. It’s an angle his defence may take.’
‘No. I was at that party that I told you about. When I came out there was a clown in the street. He seemed to just stare at me, not moving. I started to walk home, then I realised he was following me. I ran and he ran after me. I thought I’d lost him in the crowd, then he appeared out of nowhere at the church. St Ursula’s. Then he raped me, beat me, then raped me again. All the time he had his tie pulled tight around my neck, half strangling me.’
‘And he bit you?’
‘Over and over again.’
‘We’ve got the forensic photographs of the bites,’ said Fabel. ‘We’ll get a match from an impression of his teeth. Trust me, Frau Sandow, he’s going to prison for a long time.’
‘I would never have thought of him. I thought it was a stranger. Some psychopath who happened to pick on me.’ Andrea looked as if she was lost in her memories, then she became galvanised as a thought hit her. ‘Maybe he was at the party! When I was questioned, they asked me for the names of all the men there but I couldn’t give them many. I mean it was Karneval and everybody was in disguise. You know, fancy dress and stuff. So he could have been there. I know they questioned all the male students in my year.’
‘It was a medical student party?’ asked Tansu.
‘Mainly. But not exclusively. Tell me, will he be released pending trial?’
‘Not if we can help it,’ said Fabel.
‘Don’t worry, Andrea,’ said Tansu. ‘We’ll keep him away from you.’
‘I’m not worried,’ said Andrea, again with the hard, male stare. ‘Like I said, it’s he who should worry if we were ever to come across each other again.’
On the way back to Tansu’s car, Fabel looked back at Andrea’s apartment building as if he could read an answer from it.
‘What’s up?’ asked Tansu.
‘Did you see the way Andrea was dressed?’
‘She looked like she was going out on a date. To be honest, without the muscle behind it I would have called that outfit almost tarty. What about it?’
‘That’s it,’ said Fabel. ‘She looked as if she was dressed for a date but she kept on talking about an appointment. Like it was business. I have the weirdest idea … Don’t laugh, but I think our musclewoman moonlights. As a hooker.’
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Women’s Karneval Night. 23 February.
1.
The world had gone mad by the time Fabel walked into the Cologne Police Presidium. Today was Women’s Karneval Day and even the security officers were wearing fancy dress. In the Murder Commission, Benni Scholz was sitting behind his desk wearing full uniform – except, Fabel noticed, it was a female officer’s uniform.
‘Now, Principal Chief Commissar Fabel,’ said Scholz in warning. ‘Don’t start getting ideas …’
Tansu Bakrac came in wearing an all-in-one catsuit, complete with fluffy ears and painted-on whiskers. Fabel found himself noticing her curves. Kris Feilke was dressed as a Wild West sheriff. The rest of the officers were similarly attired, including – rather inappropriately, thought Fabel – several dressed as clowns.
‘I must say, Jan,’ said Tansu in mock reproach, ‘you could have made an effort.’
The truth was that Fabel did feel rather out of place without a fancy-dress outfit. Instead, he was dressed in his usual Jaeger sports jacket, black roll-neck and chinos. At least he’d remembered not to wear a tie.
The team assembled in Scholz’s office.
‘Okay,’ Scholz said, summoning as much seriousness as his outfit would allow. ‘All of you are on duty until midnight, after which we’re all going to the pub where we’re going to show our Hamburg colleague here what a real party is like. Until then, however, I want you to stick to the routes you’ve been allocated and keep your eyes peeled. The Karneval Cannibal has always struck before midnight on Women’s Karneval Night. Of course, we have our number one suspect banged up and if we make it until midnight without incident, then it proves we’ve got the right man.’
Scholz spent a further ten minutes confirming which teams were covering which routes and repeating his order that no one was to touch a drop until they got the all-clear from him.
‘You sure you want to take the duty you’ve asked for?’ Scholz asked Fabel afterwards. ‘I could put a uniformed unit on that.’
‘No … all I ask is that I can borrow Tansu for her local knowledge,’ said Fabel.
‘So long as that’s all you borrow her for,’ said Scholz and nudged Tansu. ‘She looks pretty sexy in that cat outfit.’ For a moment Fabel couldn’t think of a response and there was an awkward silence. ‘Anyway, keep in touch,’ said Scholz. ‘If you need anything just shout. I hope to God we’ve got the right guy, Jan. Women’s Karneval Night is insane – it’s the first big event of the climax of Karneval. There’s a dozen processions throughout the city, along with more parties than you can shake a stick at. From tonight until Rose Monday the city will be crazy. Not the ideal conditions for catching a psycho on the loose.’
‘Everything points to Lüdeke,’ said Fabel. ‘The cannibal fetish, the necktie used to strangle the victims, the violent aggression towards women …’
‘Why do I get the feeling that you’re not convinced?’ Scholz frowned.
‘There’s clearly a link between his attack on Vera Reinartz and the killings. It’s just that something’s missing. Why rape one victim and none of the others?’ Fabel sighed. ‘Forget it, I’m just overthinking things. I’m sure Lüdeke’s our guy.’
‘So am I,’ said Scholz. He winced and pulled at his skirt. ‘Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to adjust my tights before I hit the streets.’
Tansu parked across the street from Andrea’s apartment.
‘You still think this is necessary?’ asked Tansu.
‘Just a feeling I’ve got. If we keep an eye on her for Women’s Karneval Night I’ll feel a lot happier.’
‘Well, I suppose it won’t do any harm and we’ve got a party to go to afterwards. I think we’ll feel like celebrating.’
The street began to fill with revellers moving from party to party. Fabel was glad to have Tansu’s protection as he noticed bands of gaudily clad women roaming the street. He felt strange to still be in his own country yet have everything around him seem so foreign.
‘You find this all a bit much, don’t you?’ Tansu read his thoughts.
‘No … well, yes.’ Fabel laughed. ‘I’ve never seen anything like it.’
‘Well, you’re not a Jeck, you’re not even an Imi. It takes getting used to.’ Tansu read the confusion on Fabel’s face. ‘It’s Kölsch dialect. A Jeck is someone born in Cologne. A true Cologner. That would be me or Benni. There’s an expression in Kölsch that defines what it is to be a Cologner: Mer sinn all jet jeck, äver jede Jeck es anders … it means that all Jecks are crazy but each in his own way. An Imi is someone who lives in Cologne but was born somewhere else in Germany or abroad – like Andrea up there.’
‘So what am I?’ asked Fabel with a smile.
‘You’re a Jass, a guest.’
A group of women came down the street, singing loudly in Kölsch. Fabel had heard the song before but couldn’t place it. They passed the car noisily and stopped at the corner of the street where they ritually accosted a group of young men.
‘This is nothing, by the way,’ said Tansu. ‘Wait until Rose Monday. That’ll really confuse you. Nothing is what it seems and nobody is who you think they are. For example the whole of Karneval is headed up by the Three Stars … there’s the Prinz Karneval, the Master of the Carnival who’s addressed as His Craziness, the Kölsch
Peasant and the Kölsch Virgin. And, of course, the Virgin is always a man in drag.’
Fabel laughed. ‘I’ve noticed you’re big on that down here. I thought Benni looked less than virginal.’ He looked up at Andrea’s apartment. The blinds were up and the lights were on. ‘That’s one person who’s not going to get into the spirit of things tonight. No matter what she’s done to herself physically or her aggressive attitude, Andrea Sandow is still Vera Reinartz. A broken individual.’ Fabel’s gaze fell back to the street.
‘What is it?’ asked Tansu.
‘Over there … that man.’ Fabel nodded in the direction of a figure standing across the street from Andrea’s apartment. He too was looking up at the lit window and was all the more conspicuous because of his lack of any Karneval attire. ‘I’ve seen him before.’
‘Yes, you have,’ said Tansu. ‘That’s Ansgar Hoeffer. He’s the chef at the Speisekammer. He was hanging around outside the café when we first talked to Andrea. Now this is more than a coincidence.’
They watched as Ansgar crossed the street towards the entrance of Andrea’s apartment building.
‘I think we should have a word …’ said Fabel, his hand on the door handle. They had just got out when a knot of revellers swamped the car. Tansu and Fabel struggled to get through but one large lady grabbed Fabel and planted a kiss on his lips, to the cheers of her companions.
‘Let me through,’ shouted Fabel. ‘Police!’
Still he struggled through the knot of revellers. He saw that Ansgar had turned in his direction. A scared recognition registered on his face. Shit, thought Fabel, he’s going to run. ‘Herr Hoeffer!’ he called over the shoulder of an obese Snow White who stood in his way. Hoeffer turned and ran towards the far end of the street. Fabel and Tansu shoved their way through the crowd.
‘Stay here,’ shouted Fabel. ‘Call for back-up but stay and watch Andrea.’ He tore off down the street after Hoeffer. He rounded the corner only to be faced with a throng of revellers. He stopped in his tracks and scanned the crowd. It was only because Ansgar was hatless and in everyday clothes that he caught sight of him pushing a path through the mob. Fabel sprinted after him but collided with the same wall of flesh. He barged his way through and was met with the occasional jeer as he roughly shoved revellers out of his way.
‘Police!’ he shouted repeatedly into the faceless throng. He felt immersed in communal madness. Fabel rammed into something solid. He looked up to see a two-metre-plus tall, 120-kilo ballerina with a beard. The ballerina grabbed Fabel by the neck of his jacket.
‘What’s the rush?’ boomed the ballerina’s baritone. ‘You trying to spoil everyone’s fun?’
Fabel didn’t have time for explanations and slammed his knee into the ballerina’s tutu and the grip on his jacket was released. He broke through the crowd and caught sight of Ansgar running around the next corner. The cold air seemed to sear Fabel’s lungs as he sprinted to the corner and around into the next street. He thought about radioing in but, without Tansu, he had no idea where he was. Suddenly he found himself in a dark, quiet side street. It was only wide enough to allow cars to park along one side, leaving clearance for a single stream of one-way traffic. Fabel stopped. He had seen Ansgar run into the street and had closed the gap enough to be sure that the chef hadn’t had time to make it to the far end. He was here somewhere. Hiding. Fabel walked slowly down the roadway, checking between the parked cars.
‘Give it up, Herr Hoeffer,’ he called breathlessly. ‘We know who you are and we’ll track you down sooner or later. All I want to do is talk to you.’
Silence.
‘Please, Herr Hoeffer. This will do you no good …’
A dark figure rose from between two parked cars, about ten metres further down the street.
‘I didn’t mean any harm …’ Ansgar’s voice was high and pleading. ‘I didn’t. She let me do it before. I just wanted to do it again … I’m sick …’
Fabel moved closer. Slowly. Reaching into his belt, he removed his set of handcuffs. ‘We can talk about it, Herr Hoeffer. I want to talk about it. To understand. But you need to come with me. You understand that, don’t you?’ Fabel eased between the parked cars. There was a flash: a glint of sharp steel as Ansgar took something from his coat pocket. Fabel reached for his gun which was not there. As a visiting officer from another city’s force, Fabel was unarmed. Ansgar held the blade in front of him, shaking.
‘I’m sick,’ he repeated. ‘A pervert. I don’t deserve to live … I can’t stand this chaos …’ The blade flashed in the dim street light as it arced first upwards, then down – towards Ansgar’s abdomen. Ansgar was hurled off his feet as Fabel slammed into him. The impact threw Ansgar against the wall and the knife fell with a clatter.
‘No, you don’t,’ said Fabel as he turned Ansgar onto his belly and twisted his arms behind him, clasping the handcuffs shut. ‘I’ve lost one already that way.’
2.
‘So who’s our killer?’ asked Scholz. ‘I am seriously fucking confused. We have positive proof that it was Lüdeke who raped Vera-cum-Andrea in ’ninety-nine, yet now we find Ansgar Hoeffer loitering outside her apartment and he’s ready to make a confession.’
‘A confession to what, we don’t know yet,’ said Fabel.
‘Well, I think we can hazard a guess … The search of his apartment has turned up this pile of goodies.’ Scholz indicated a cardboard evidence box on his desk. ‘And we’ve done a quick check of his computer. Three guesses what his favourite website is?’
‘Anthropophagi?’
‘In one,’ said Scholz.
Fabel looked through the contents of the evidence box. A few magazines, DVDs, older VHS tapes. Fabel read some of the DVD titles, all of which were variations on a theme: Flesh-Eating Zombie Women, Cannibals of Lesbos, Food for the Demon Women.
‘What’s up?’ asked Scholz. ‘Seen something you want to borrow?’
‘There’s something wrong here. Doesn’t fit. Let’s go talk to him. In the meantime, I think Tansu should stay outside Andrea Sandow’s place, just until we hit midnight. Have you updated her on what’s happened?’
‘Yep … she says this better not interfere with her going to the party …’
Fabel looked Scholz up and down. ‘By the way,’ he said, with a grin. ‘I think you should maybe think about changing out of your skirt before we question him …’
Fabel found himself feeling genuinely sorry for Ansgar Hoeffer. He sat in the interview room pale and sad, his cheek bruised from its encounter with the wall that Fabel had rammed him into.
‘Why were you outside Andrea Sandow’s apartment?’ asked Scholz.
‘I wanted to see her. I needed …’ He let the thought die.
‘Needed what?’ asked Fabel.
‘I have this thing …’
‘About cannibalism?’ asked Scholz. Ansgar looked up, surprised.
‘How did you know?’
‘Don’t be stupid, Ansgar,’ said Scholz. ‘You know what this is all about. You know why you’re here. And anyway, we’ve seen your dirty-film library.’
‘I didn’t think I was doing anything illegal …’ Ansgar looked at the detectives pleadingly.
Scholz was about to say something but Fabel cut him off. Everything fell into place.
‘Ansgar,’ said Fabel urgently, ‘do you know who Vera Reinartz is?’
‘No …’
‘I didn’t think you would. But you know Andrea Sandow?’
‘I only know her as Andrea. Andrea the Amazon. I hadn’t seen her since it happened. Then, the other week, just by chance … so I followed her. Found out where she worked. Where she lived.’
‘When did you first meet her?’
‘I only met her the once. Three years ago. I hired her through an escort agency. À la Carte. I paid her …’
Scholz exchanged a look with Fabel.
‘You paid her. What did you pay her to do, Ansgar?’
‘I can show you …’ Ansgar stood up, loos
ened his belt and turned sideways so that Fabel and Scholz could see as he eased his trousers and shorts down to expose his buttock.
3.
Tansu sat in the car and watched the lit window of Andrea’s apartment. She was bored and could think of a dozen better ways to spend Women’s Karneval Night. But this was what she had become a policewoman for: to watch and protect. It gave her comfort that whether it was Lüdeke or Hoeffer who was the killer, the chances were that the streets were safe tonight. Andrea would be safe tonight.
Something, someone passed across the window. Tansu gave a small laugh. She was imagining things. She could have sworn it had been … No, that was mad. The light went out. Tansu picked up her radio. No. There was nothing to report. What she had thought she had seen didn’t make sense. Andrea was probably just turning in, hoping to put Women’s Karneval Night behind her. Tansu decided to check it out anyway.
The street was still thronging with people and Tansu dodged round clumps of revellers to reach the entry of Andrea’s apartment building. She buzzed up and waited a minute for a reply that didn’t come. She was just about to buzz again when a group of partygoers came down the stairs. Tansu caught the door before it swung shut behind them and made her way up the stairwell.
Tansu knocked on the door. No answer. She knocked louder.
‘Andrea!’ she called through the closed door. ‘Andrea! It’s Commissar Bakrac from the Criminal Police. Let me in!’
Again no response, but this time Tansu heard sounds from inside the apartment. Her heart began to pound: what if she had really seen what she thought she’d seen at the window? She unholstered her service automatic, clicked off the safety and held it pointed to the ceiling. ‘Andrea … I think you are in danger. I’m coming in.’ Tansu stepped back and took a deep breath. She swung her boot at the door. Then again. The lock splintered and the door flew open. She could see along the apartment’s hall but the rooms off it lay in darkness. She debated about taking precious seconds to call for back-up. But Andrea could be dead by then. She edged along the hall, her back pressed against the wall. She knocked a hanging photograph from its hook and it crashed onto the floor. Tansu glanced down and saw that it was a picture of a young woman: pretty, with long brownish hair and a floaty summer dress. Vera, before she had made a mess of her body with weightlifting and steroids. Before she had become Andrea. Before that bastard Lüdeke had screwed her up.
The Carnival Master Page 33