Craig Russell - The Valkyrie Song

‘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.’

‘Give me to the end of this case, Chef. Then I’ll go quietly.’

‘Okay.’ Fabel hesitated for a moment. ‘I’m short-staffed as it is. But while you’re still part of this unit, I need you to rein in that independence a little.’

After Anna left, Fabel sat looking out of his window over the snow-frosted treetops of Winterhude Park. The expression on Anna’s face lingered in his mind. He recalled too the eager if prickly Anna he had recruited five years before. It had been Anna’s edge, her drive that had convinced him she would be an asset to the team. Somehow, somewhere during those five years he had lost his way with her.

But the thing that churned in his gut was that he was still not convinced he was handling it right.

Fabel’s thoughts were interrupted by the phone ringing. It was Ulrich Wagner, from the BKA Federal Crime Bureau. Fabel liked Wagner, but could have done without the interruption: he was keen to prepare for his team briefing. After the usual chit-chat, Wagner got down to business.

‘There’s a Federal Republic-wide alert gone out — I don’t know, maybe you’ve seen it — about Margarethe Paulus.’

‘Sorry, I haven’t,’ said Fabel. ‘I’m up to my eyes with this St Pauli murder. The alleged return of the so-called “Angel of St Pauli”.’

‘Well, in a way that’s why I’m calling. Margarethe Paulus was confined to the state mental hospital in Mecklenburg, which isn’t too far away from you. She’s been in there for thirteen years. Three weeks ago she decided to discharge herself. Unofficially. There’s not been a trace of her since. Margarethe Paulus is considered to be a highly dangerous individual. Before she was committed there was a spate of armed robberies, all very efficiently executed and all carried out by a lone woman. It was all very cool and organised. Each time it was a woman of completely different appearance, hitting a different type of target — a bank, then a store, then a security van. But always for cash. Never jewellery or any other loot that would have had to be fenced. And that meant no need to involve any third party.’

‘So how did they get her?’ asked Fabel.

‘They didn’t. The Mecklenburg police were never able to put together enough evidence to identify the woman, far less to nail Margarethe Paulus. But she started to think bigger. Look for accomplices. Or at least that’s what we think was going on. She got involved with a biker gang. The story she told is that she met up with them to discuss potential cooperation. But they weren’t interested and things turned nasty. Three of the gang attempted to rape her.’

‘Attempted?’

‘I’ve seen the crime-scene photographs, Jan. It’s almost impossible to believe that a woman, alone against three hardened villains, could have done all that. But forensics proved that she did.’

‘She killed all three?’

‘More than that. She castrated them. From what the Mecklenburg forensics people could ascertain, she killed two instantly, and castrated them post-mortem. But the third, the ringleader… she kept him alive and conscious throughout the whole process. It was his screaming that alerted people in the neighbourhood who then called the police.’

‘God…’ Fabel considered what Wagner had told him. ‘That fits with the original Angel murders.’

‘It does. But they couldn’t have been committed by her. She was incarcerated in the State Mental Hospital at the time. However, when I saw the report on the latest killings…’

‘I get your point,’ said Fabel. ‘But this time there’s no castration. Evisceration, yes, but balls intact. Can you email me the relevant stuff on her, including the most up-to-date images?’

‘I’ve already arranged it.’

‘The Mecklenburg police will have a record of her DNA: could you arrange for that to be sent too? This time our killer may have left a trace of herself behind. A hair.’

‘Not a problem,’ said Wagner. ‘So you maybe have a break this time.’

‘Maybe. But I’m not counting on it.’

Fabel held his team briefing in the Murder Commission’s incident room. In addition to his now depleted core team of Werner, Anna and Anna’s partner Henk Hermann, there were other detectives who had been drafted in by Fabel to beef up the team. Thomas Glasmacher was a large, burly blond who, at the moment, was sniffing and sneezing into his handkerchief, struggling, as he had been for the last week, to fight off a winter cold. Dirk Hechtner was smaller and dark-haired. Fabel had borrowed Hechtner from a Police Direction in Hamburg-Harburg. In their brief careers to date, both Glasmacher and Hechtner had shown a great deal of promise as well as an ability to think unconventionally when needed. Neither was aware of the fact that Fabel was considering recruiting them both permanently. In total, Fabel had to find four new investigators for his unit: five once Anna was gone. In addition, he was going to push for specialists to be attached to the Commission.