Fabel had moved on from trying to make sense of Hanna’s death to trying to make sense of the death of strangers. Fabel had come to know so many names, so many faces of the dead. As head of the Polizei Hamburg’s Murder Commission, Jan Fabel had spent his career getting to know people who were no longer capable of knowing him. He had become a master at reconstructing a life and a personality that was lost to everyone else; to walking in the footsteps of the murdered and understanding the minds of those who had killed them.
What had kept Fabel sane had been the fact that, throughout his career, he had always sought to keep death at arm’s length. He had never been entirely detached: it had always been his empathy for the victims that had given him that critical edge. But since Hanna’s murder, he had tried never to let death come too close to him. The last three cases had changed all that: one officer dead, one seriously wounded and mentally scarred. And twice more he had seen his officers placed in serious peril.
It was time to go. A chance encounter with an old schoolfriend had resulted in an offer of a job. More than a job. An escape into a normal life, whatever that was. To become someone else. It had been a monumental decision for Fabel. And now everyone was trying to talk him out of it. Everyone except Susanne. Susanne saw it as more than a change in Fabel’s career; she saw the opportunity to change the basis of their relationship.
Fabel’s superiors had, with great reluctance, agreed that he would leave the Polizei Hamburg’s Murder Commission at the end of the so-called ‘Hamburg Hairdresser’ case. It had been this case, piled onto the three other serial-killer investigations he had undertaken, that had led Fabel to the final decision to quit. There was, he had decided, just so much horror and fear that one could experience, only so much bearing witness as foul, corrupted and sick minds opened themselves up in front of you, before you started to become more and more like the thing you hunted.
Criminal Director Horst van Heiden was Fabel’s boss, in charge of Hamburg’s Criminal Police, the investigative branch of the Polizei Hamburg. Fabel had been surprised at van Heiden’s persistence in trying to persuade him not to resign. Fabel and van Heiden were, in many ways, opposites. Van Heiden was the typical career police officer, with a background in the force’s uniformed branch. Fabel still saw himself as the accidental detective: an outsider. And he liked to think that he held little regard for the formalities of his occupation.
When Fabel entered the Criminal Director’s office, there was a tall, lean man with prematurely greying hair whom Fabel didn’t recognise waiting with van Heiden.
‘Fabel … allow me to introduce Herr Wagner of the BKA …’ said van Heiden. Fabel shook hands with the federal agent. The BKA was the Bundeskriminalamt – Federal Crime Bureau – the law-enforcement agency with a brief that covered the whole of the Federal Republic. Fabel had worked with them on several occasions, but he had never before encountered Wagner. Maybe this wasn’t going to be all about van Heiden trying to persuade Fabel to remain in the Murder Commission after all. However, Fabel’s hope was dashed with van Heiden’s first utterance.
‘I’m not going to beat about the bush, Fabel.’ Van Heiden indicated that Fabel should be seated. ‘You know my feelings about your leaving the Polizei Hamburg. I would rather see you in another department than lose you completely.’
‘I appreciate that, Herr Criminal Director. But my mind is made up.’ Fabel did not try to suppress the weariness in his voice. ‘And, with respect, we’ve been through this before …’
Van Heiden bristled. ‘I didn’t bring you up here just to repeat myself, Fabel. Herr Wagner and I have something specific to discuss with you.’
‘With the greatest respect,’ said Wagner, ‘I don’t agree with Herr van Heiden that an alternative to you resigning from the Polizei Hamburg would be a transfer to another department. I know that you have successfully concluded four serial-murder cases in recent years.’
‘It depends on how you define “successfully”,’ said Fabel. ‘I have lost one officer and another has been so traumatised that she is currently on extended sick leave.’
‘How is Frau Klee?’ asked van Heiden.
‘Maria’s tough,’ said Fabel. ‘Very tough. I suppose in many ways that’s been her problem. She tried to simply work through what happened to her. Didn’t give herself enough time to recover from either her physical or emotional wounds. That’s why she’s crashed now.’
‘Frau Klee was seriously injured in the case in which Herr Fabel lost an officer.’ Van Heiden clearly felt that Wagner needed an explanation.
‘And a local uniformed policeman was killed as well,’ said Fabel.
‘Yes …’ Wagner frowned. ‘The Vitrenko case. Believe me, I am only too well acquainted with the exploits of our Ukrainian friend. Vasyl Vitrenko is at the top of our wanted list.’
‘Added to that, Maria became …’ Fabel struggled for the right word ‘…
involved
– albeit unknowingly involved – with a killer in another case. I’m afraid it’s all taken its toll on her.’
‘Fabel,’ said van Heiden gently, ‘it’s more than a case of lost confidence and post-traumatic stress. Frau Klee has had a complete breakdown. We all know that otherwise she would be your successor. I hate to say this about an officer of Frau Klee’s ability, but I very much doubt if she has a future in the Murder Commission.’
‘I think that I should have a say in that,’ said Fabel.
‘But you won’t, Chief Commissar,’ van Heiden said. ‘By the time Frau Klee returns from sick leave you will be long gone. Your choice, Fabel. Not mine. Anyway, I’m sure we can put Frau Klee to good use elsewhere in the Polizei Hamburg.’
Fabel said nothing. Eventually Wagner broke the embarrassed silence. ‘Anyway, as I was saying, Herr Fabel, you have a natural talent for complicated
murder cases. And your last case was rather …
high profile
to say the least. Your reputation now extends far beyond Hamburg. Whether you like it or not, you have earned a name within the police community throughout Germany as the most experienced and successful investigator of complex and multiple murder cases.’
‘I certainly don’t think that I have any special qualities or credentials,’ said Fabel. ‘It’s more to do with bad luck … having four serial-murder cases in our jurisdiction. And the fact that I have a good team behind me and have had a few lucky breaks.’
‘We all know luck has had nothing to do with it, Fabel,’ said van Heiden.
‘Listen, Herr Fabel,’ said Wagner. ‘There are a number of murder cases that come up every now and then in different parts of the Federal Republic that, for one reason or another, are more complicated than the usual run-of-the-mill killings.’
‘Serial killers, you mean.’
‘No … well, yes, but not exclusively. Everything is changing. We now routinely come across all kinds of more complex cases. Killings with some other dimension to them … political, organised-crime-related, professional murders. That kind of thing. Also cases where the geographical scope of the crime exceeds the boundaries of any single Federal State and the operational scope of any single police force. A contract killer in Bremen might be working for a gangster in Leipzig, for example. Or we might find ourselves faced with a serial killer who uses the autobahn network to kill across the Federal Republic. Or it could simply be that a case is so complex or unusual that the local force simply has no frame of reference for their investigation.’
‘What’s this got to do with me?’
‘Well, as you know, the usual form with cases that extend across the Federal Republic is that the State Prosecutor of the Federal State where the first killing took place takes charge and the BKA provides coordination between the investigating forces. But we live in a much more complicated world. It isn’t just business that is globalising. The Internet is providing a worldwide resource for sex criminals and organised crime is blind to national, far less federal borders.’
‘The BKA want to set up a special unit to deal with such crimes.’ Van Heiden took over. ‘A Super Murder Commission, so to speak. And they want you to head it.’
‘You would still be based here at the Hamburg Police Presidium,’ explained Wagner, ‘and you would still handle Hamburg cases as you have for the last fifteen years, but you would also be given additional staff and resources with which to build the special unit. Whenever there was a case that required your particular skills and perspective, your unit would respond.’
‘I’m very flattered but—’
Van Heiden cut Fabel off. ‘This is not about flattery. And it’s not just about you. This is an opportunity for the Polizei Hamburg to gain Europe-wide – even worldwide – recognition as a centre of excellence in murder investigation, in much the same way as the Legal Medicine Institute in Eppendorf is a global leader in forensics.’
‘But surely this unit would be a BKA unit?’
‘You would remain a full serving officer in the Polizei Hamburg,’ explained Wagner, ‘but seconded to the BKA. There would be an increase in salary
to reflect the increase in responsibility. If you wanted, we could leave things the way they are here, but use you in a, well,
consultative
role in other parts of the country.’
Fabel took a moment to consider what was being said. ‘This is all very interesting, and it is an exciting challenge for any ambitious officer. But not me. I’m trying to get away from death on my doorstep. Not to take to the road to see more of it. I’m sorry, gentlemen.’ Fabel stood up. ‘I’ve made my decision.’
‘It really is a unique opportunity,’ pressed Wagner.
‘Listen, Herr Wagner, I appreciate the offer. I really do. But it’s time for me to move on.’ Fabel paused for a moment. ‘I’ve lost my way. When I first became a policeman, it was all very simple. I saw where I stood in the world, and that place was between the ordinary citizen and those who would do them harm.’
‘That’s a pretty good definition of what it is to be a policeman,’ said van Heiden. ‘And it’s as true today as it was when you joined.’
‘Maybe so,’ said Fabel, with a sigh. ‘But over the years … well, it’s got more complicated. More
abstract
, I suppose you could say. The people I’ve hunted, the things they’ve done … I never saw myself getting involved with all that darkness.’
There was a pause. Then Wagner said, somewhat uncertainly: ‘I mentioned earlier that I was only too well acquainted with Vasyl Vitrenko … I know that there is a certain amount of … well …
unfinished business
between you. I meant what I said about knowing Vitrenko well. He and his new partner Molokov are by far the most powerful figures in people-trafficking in Europe. They are selling women and children from Eastern Europe and Asia into
sexual and other kinds of slavery. And they are using Germany not just as a prime market but as a gateway to the rest of the West. We have set up an interdepartmental task force dedicated to finding and taking Vitrenko out of action for once and for all. If you reconsidered your position, then your first task could be to help us nail him.’
‘Why is it that everyone seems to feel they have an insight into what motivates me? What do any of you know about what happened out there when Maria was stabbed?’ Fabel fought to keep the anger that flashed in him under control. ‘This is real life, not some corny American movie. I don’t burn with a desire for revenge and I’m not looking for some kind of final showdown. Vitrenko is not my problem. Not any more.’
‘That’s not the way we do business,’ said Wagner and Fabel could see he had irked the BKA man. ‘I’m not interested in personal grudges. I thought that as a professional investigator you would want to close a case that you have been so deeply involved in. And, from our perspective, you have a lot to bring to the table. No one has ever come so close to capturing Vitrenko as you and Frau Klee. Your insight could be invaluable. What I can also tell you is that we are much, much better off in terms of intelligence on Vitrenko than we were when you last crossed paths with him. For the first time ever we have an inside source on the Vitrenko–Molokov organisation and we’ve built the most comprehensive dossier ever compiled on him. With the help of our associates in the Ukrainian police militia we have succeeded in casting some light into the shadows. He’s running out of places to hide.’
Fabel returned Wagner’s gaze blankly, but he
found himself wondering what was in the dossier. The truth was that as far as Fabel was concerned Vitrenko had ceased to be a person, a human being. He was a spectre.
‘The Vitrenko Dossier has cost lives to compile, Herr Fabel. Much of the intelligence has come from Ukrainian undercover operations as well as from our own resources. We believe Vitrenko is aware of the dossier and would give anything to get his hands on it.’
‘Why? It would only confirm what he can probably guess we know,’ Fabel asked in spite of himself.
‘Vitrenko is obsessive about loyalty. There are two versions of the Vitrenko Dossier. The master dossier and the working dossier. The main reason is that there is a limit to the intelligence we can share with our Ukrainian colleagues, which I know frustrates them. But the simple fact is that there is still a considerable amount of corruption within the Ukrainian security apparatus, added to which even the Ukrainians don’t know how many of Vitrenko’s people have infiltrated their own ranks. That’s why the working dossier is the one that all members of the task force work with. It gives all the most important intelligence but doesn’t identify the sources, which the master dossier does. But even if Vitrenko got his hands on just the working dossier, there would be enough clues in there for him to identify our sources within his organisation.’
‘But surely there aren’t any? Vitrenko’s men are fanatically loyal to him.’
‘That’s very true. But when he merged his operation with that of Valeri Molokov, he compromised his security. Molokov has less noble ideas about his chosen profession. Like Vitrenko he is ex-security
services, in his case Russian rather than Ukrainian, but he is a good old-fashioned gangster, plain and simple. There is no grand philosophy uniting his men. Just greed and violence.’ Wagner paused, as if waiting for a reaction from Fabel.