Craig Russell - A fear of dark water

‘All of this crap about me being in charge of the Network Killer case because you’ve been compromised…’ said Bruggemann. ‘I’ve had a word with Criminal Director van Heiden and he agrees that the attempt on your life makes it all a crock of shit.’

‘“Crock of shit”?’ Fabel grinned. ‘I take it you didn’t actually use that phrase to Horst van Heiden? It’s okay, by the way, I’m decent.’

She turned to face him. ‘As a matter of fact, I did. You know, for a police officer with a service as long as his, and who’s bound to have seen his fair share, he certainly does shock easy. Anyway, he agrees that whoever tried to compromise you has clearly decided to take a more direct approach, so he’s agreed that you should head up the enquiry again.’

‘You want out?’ asked Fabel.

‘Not necessarily. I’m quite into the case and would like to stick with it. Under your supervision, that is. If you’re comfortable with that. I mean, that’s really what’s been happening anyway. Unofficially.’

‘How has the team been with you?’

‘Great. You’ve put together some squad there, Jan. Werner’s been a star, Dirk, Henk, Thomas and the others have been really good. Anna can be a little… feisty.’ Bruggemann grinned as she said the word.

‘Nicola, is this a job application?’

‘Could be, Jan. I know you’re a senior down since Maria Klee…’ She faltered. Everybody had learned to tiptoe around the subject of what had happened to Maria. ‘It’s just that you and I have always worked well together and I think it would be a good challenge for me. And I do know you could do with the support. Unless you don’t think I’m up to it…’

‘Don’t be silly, Nicola, you know how highly I think of you. It’s just that you have your own unit. You sure you want to be second fiddle again?’

‘Your team has a Republic-wide reputation, Jan. No one is going to see it as a backward step for me. And there’s a limit to how long you can work in the Child Crime Unit before it starts to really get to you.’

Fabel nodded; he could imagine. The Child Crime Unit was on the same floor as the Murder Commission and Fabel passed it often. There was a room set aside, incongruously bright and colourful against the rest of the Presidium’s tonal decor, as a playroom, with toys, children’s books and games. The intention was to put the children brought there at their ease; a place where it was safe to be a child. Every time he passed it, Fabel thought of the price each child must have paid before they could play in that room.

‘The other thing is that I have experience with dealing with that geek Kroeger. I sense you and he don’t hit it off too well. I’ve worked with him closely through the Child Crime Unit. He’s been invaluable at times and we get on. If I stick with the Network Killer case, I could maybe provide a more constructive liaison with the Cybercrime Unit.’

‘Oh, yes… I need you for your people skills.’ Fabel smiled. ‘Okay, Nicola, let me talk it over with the Criminal Director. I’m not going to pretend I wouldn’t want your experience and skills on board, but Herr van Heiden is going to want to find a replacement for you.’

‘My deputy is ready to take over, but of course there will have to be a replacement for her.’

‘So apart from pitching your CV, I take it there was something else?’

‘Yes. While you were taking a constitutional dip in the Elbe, I was reading through the autopsy report on Julia Helling, the Network Killer’s most recent victim. I don’t get this thing with the killer keeping her in cold storage. Like you said, it just doesn’t fit. Why would he try to confuse us about time of death?’

‘He wasn’t. It wasn’t the killer who put her in cold storage. Listen, Nicola, I think I’ve got it all straight in my head. But I can’t prove a thing. I’ll get the team together and go through what I think is going on. But first I need to talk to Flemming, the guy who pulled me out of the river.’

Susanne came back into the room and said hello to Nicola. They had known each other for some time, Susanne providing psych assessments on both victims and suspects for the Child Crime Unit. But her greeting was muted by the frown that darkened her expression when she saw that Fabel was dressed. He held up his hands in apology and they argued for a minute or two over the rights and wrongs of him discharging himself. Eventually Susanne gave up.

‘I suppose we’d better take my car,’ she said, her tone still conveying her displeasure.

‘My car…’ Fabel suddenly looked taken aback, as if he had only just realised that his BMW convertible was lying at the bottom of the Elbe.

‘Make sure you drive, Susanne. Unless you stopped off at home to pick up your swimming cozzie…’ When neither Fabel nor Susanne laughed, Bruggemann moved on. ‘They’ve got a crane down there at the moment,’ said Bruggemann. ‘Lars Kreysig has taken personal charge of getting your car out, but it’s going to be a write-off.’

‘I loved that car,’ said Fabel melancholically.

‘Well, you shouldn’t have tried to drive on water,’ said Bruggemann. ‘I know everybody at the Presidium thinks you can walk on it, but…’

Fabel smiled sarcastically at Bruggemann, then turned to Susanne. ‘I think, given what’s happened, we’d better arrange an escort back. I want the apartment checked out, too. I’ll be with you in a minute, Susanne. I just need to talk to the guy who saved my neck.’

Flemming was waiting for Fabel in the reception area. He was dressed in dark blue overalls and sipped coffee from a Styrofoam cup.

‘I begged these from the hospital,’ he explained, plucking at the blue overalls. He grinned. ‘I’ll send you a dry-cleaning bill for my suit.’

‘You can send me the bill for a new one. I thought I was a goner for sure. I don’t know how I can begin to thank you for what you did.’

‘Armani would be a start.’ Flemming’s grin widened. He was a big man with huge shoulders but otherwise slim. Fabel reckoned that he was someone who was more than a hobby-fitness fan. He estimated Flemming’s age to be somewhere in his mid-forties. Beneath the dark, curling hair a scar traced its way to the corner of his eyebrow.

‘What’s your background?’ he asked Flemming. ‘I mean, before Seamark International?’

‘Polizei Kiel Harbour Police for ten years. Before that Kampfschwimmer Kompanie.’

Fabel raised an eyebrow. ‘Then it was my lucky day.’ The Kampfschwimmer Kompanie was the special-forces unit of the German Navy. Commando frogmen. ‘How long?’

‘Twelve years. So taking a dip to pull you out of the water was nothing. To join the Kompanie you have to be able to swim at least thirty metres underwater without scuba and be able to stay underwater for at least sixty seconds without breathing. So today really was no big deal.’

‘Trust me,’ said Fabel. ‘It was a big deal to me. Can I get you another coffee?’

‘I’m fine, thanks.’

Pleasantries over, Fabel’s tone became more businesslike. ‘What exactly have you been doing tailing me for the last couple of weeks?’

‘You spotted me that long ago?’ Flemming gave a small laugh. ‘I must be slipping.’

‘Well?’

‘Mustafa Kebir is more than a client, he’s a friend. He knows about my background, so when his niece went missing he came to me. Obviously the first thing I did was tell him to go to the police, but he said that Meliha would resent that. She’s very anti-establishment.’

‘You do know that impersonating a police officer is a serious offence?’

‘I don’t know what you’re talking about, Herr Fabel.’ Flemming’s expression remained open and frank. He was good, thought Fabel.