Craig Russell - The Carnival Master

‘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 Ludeke,’ 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 Ludeke’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 Kolsch dialect. A Jeck is someone born in Cologne. A true Cologner. That would be me or Benni. There’s an expression in Kolsch that defines what it is to be a Cologner: Mer sinn all jet jeck, aver 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 Kolsch. 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 Kolsch Peasant and the Kolsch 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 cafe 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.