A Fear of Dark Water (24 page)

But he could not find her. Anywhere.

She simply did not exist.

The first thing he had done was to disable the roaming function on the mobile phone he had picked up in the café. Roman had become more and more convinced that the beautiful woman who had left it behind had done so deliberately, and the only reason he could think of was that she had been afraid of being tracked through it. He himself had Enhanced Cell Identification software that could pinpoint a mobile to within ten metres; if what he had guessed about the woman was true, then someone, somewhere would be trying to track down her phone. Roman had been very careful about switching it on: it was not necessary for a call to be made or received for it to be traced. As soon as the Nokia was switched on, it would emit its roaming signal, seeking out a network to connect to; so the first thing he did was to dismantle it and remove its antenna.

And that was when he found it: a non-standard GPS chip. Someone had implanted an even more accurate form of tracer on the phone. Once he was into the phone, Roman removed the GPS chip, examined it and destroyed it. He felt himself sweating. More than usual. There was something going on here that was making him feel uneasy. Very uneasy.

With the tracking disabled, he was able to download the phone’s contents onto his computer, decrypting any hidden or protected information.

It did not take Roman more than an hour to grow to hate the woman he had seen in the café. He hated her because she really had been in grave danger. And by leaving her phone for him to find, she had transferred that danger to him.

He stared at the computer screens before him. His portal to another universe. His element. His safe place. But even there –
especially
there – they could find him.

And Roman was in no doubt that if they did find him, they would kill him.

Chapter Twenty-Four

The interview lasted all morning and into the afternoon. Van Heiden arranged for lunch to be brought up from the canteen.

It was the strangest position for Fabel to find himself in. No one actually used the word
suspect
, but that was the noun Fabel would have attached to himself. Before they had started to discuss Müller-Voigt’s death, van Heiden had actually reminded Fabel of his rights under the Basic Law of the Federal Republic.

‘Just to keep things right,’ van Heiden had said. Presumably that was why he had also had their conversation recorded. Menke, the BfV agent, had sat in on the discussion.

‘You cannot seriously be suggesting that I had anything to do with Müller-Voigt’s death?’ Fabel had protested.

‘Of course not,’ said van Heiden. ‘But we have to be seen to do this all above board.’

So they had sat and gone over every detail of every conversation Fabel had had with the Senator. When he had left to visit him, when he had arrived.

‘I wouldn’t have thought it would have taken you so long to get there,’ said Menke.

‘I lost my way a little,’ explained Fabel. ‘I ended up going through the centre of Stade.’

‘But you’d been to Müller-Voigt’s house before.’

‘A couple of years ago, yes.’

Van Heiden, not the most extemporary of thinkers, had a list of questions prepared on a notepad. He worked his way through them, taking notes, asking supplementary questions. Pausing to frown every now and then. Menke contributed little, but Fabel noticed that the few questions he did ask were much more relevant than those that Fabel’s boss asked. At three-thirty van Heiden switched the recorder off, indicating the end of the formal interview.

‘Well?’ asked Fabel. ‘Do I go back to my desk or down to the holding cells?’

‘This is no laughing matter,’ said van Heiden.

‘I do not, in the slightest, find this funny. A man has been murdered within an hour of my talking to him, from what we can gather. He also happened to be a man I rather liked. And someone, somehow, is trying to frame me for it. And implicate me in a serial-murder case I’ve spent the last six months of my life working on. No, Herr Criminal Director, I do not find this a laughing matter.’ Fabel was aware he had started to raise his voice.

‘They’re not …’ Menke did not look in Fabel’s direction when he spoke.

‘What?’ Fabel frowned irritatedly at the security-service man.

‘They’re not trying to frame you,’ repeated Menke. ‘Or at least I don’t think they are. Like I said before, they’re trying to
compromise
you more than anything. Take you out of the picture. Make it impossible for you to lead the investigation into Müller-Voigt’s death, and/or the Network Killer murders.’

Fabel drew a breath. For the first time in the day he felt less isolated; but the knowledge that his own boss had not voiced a belief in his innocence seethed inside him.

‘It seems very elaborate,’ said Fabel.

‘To you or me, yes. But if you have access to the right technology and expertise, then causing this kind of confusion takes very little effort.’ Menke shrugged, but held Fabel’s gaze for a moment.

‘So where does this all leave me?’ Fabel asked van Heiden.

‘Maybe it would be good if you took some leave.’

‘In the middle of three major murder enquiries?’ Fabel was incredulous. ‘That’s giving whoever is behind this exactly what they want.’

‘That might not be a bad idea.’ said Menke. ‘For the moment …’

‘I’m not buying it. I’m the head of this Commission and if you’re telling me otherwise, then you can have my resignation this afternoon.’

‘And that would be exactly what whoever is creating this mayhem would want you to do,’ said Menke. Van Heiden said nothing; it was clear he was out of his depth and Fabel’s threat to resign had taken him aback.

‘Listen, Fabel,’ continued Menke, ‘the Criminal Director is right. To put it bluntly, you simply cannot be seen to lead an investigation when you are under investigation yourself.’ He turned to van Heiden. ‘Why not leave Werner Meyer officially in charge of the Müller-Voigt case and put another officer in to oversee the Network Killer investigation? That will leave Herr Fabel free to investigate the firebomb killing of Daniel Föttinger in the Schanzenviertel. In the meantime, I think it’s only fair that he is kept fully informed of developments in the other two investigations. He still heads the department.’

Van Heiden looked less than comfortable with the idea and said nothing.

‘If you don’t mind me saying, Herr Menke, you’re taking a very
profound
interest in the workings of the Polizei Hamburg. And in protecting my career prospects.’

‘We have areas of mutual interest, Herr Fabel,’ said Menke. ‘As you’ve already guessed.’

‘These people you say have the technological expertise and resources to pull a stunt like this. The Pharos Project?’

Menke smiled. ‘I suggest you read that file I gave you. Very carefully.’

After van Heiden and Menke left Fabel’s office, Anna Wolff came in.

‘You’re in trouble,’ she said bluntly.

‘Tell me about it,’ Fabel sighed, leaning back in his chair.

‘Not with Robocop and the Spook.’ She grinned. ‘Susanne’s been on the phone.’

‘Oh,
shit
…’ Fabel jumped up and looked at his watch. ‘I was supposed to pick her up from the airport.’

‘An hour ago. Don’t worry – when she phoned she was pretty pissed off, but I explained that things were
serious
. I sent a car to pick her up and take her back to your flat. But I’d give her a call if I were you.’

‘Thanks, Anna. You tell Susanne anything about what’s been happening?’

‘’Course not. But I did say it was serious. Well, it’s always serious, but I told her it was more serious than usual. That you’d had a rough time and I was sure you’d explain.’ Anna crossed her arms and frowned. ‘You okay?’

‘What did the Criminal Director tell you?’

‘That we were to keep you under close surveillance and not let you into the incident room in case you saw your picture at the top of the suspects board.’ Anna’s delivery was deadpan.

‘Very funny …’ Fabel made an impatient face.

‘He told Werner and me that you would have to withdraw yourself from the Müller-Voigt and Network Killer investigations but that you were still head of the Commission. He kind of suggested that you would be taking a
break
. He also said that Werner was top dog on the Müller-Voigt case and Principal Chief Commissar Brüggemann will be coming in to head up the Network Killer caseload.’

‘Nicola Brüggemann?’

‘We stay assigned for the meantime, but she runs the show.’

Fabel nodded. He knew Nicola Brüggemann well: she headed up a specialist child crime unit, which, inevitably, often had to work closely with the Murder Commission.

‘Nicola Brüggemann is an excellent officer.’ Fabel invested his tone with a warning. ‘Don’t be … don’t be your usual contrary self, Anna. It’s not Nicola’s fault I’ve been … what have I been? … not suspended or reassigned …
reallocated
. I need you and Werner to stick to the Network Killer case like glue. And, obviously, I want to be kept fully informed of developments. In the meantime, I need to get all the information on the Schanzenviertel arson attack.’

Susanne was waiting for him when he got home. There was no anger in her expression, just concern. And she looked tired. Her concern deepened as Fabel went through everything that had happened during her absence.

‘God, Jan … I can’t leave you alone for a minute. What happens now?’

‘I don’t know. It’s all over the place. I’ve been reassigned to take personal charge of this death in the Schanzenviertel: the guy who died when his car was torched. Officially, I’m still running the show with the other cases, but …’

‘Who do you think is behind all of this? I mean, it takes a lot of organisation and resources …’

‘I’ve already had that conversation.’ Fabel held up the file. ‘My spooky pal Fabian Menke suspects the Pharos Project. What the connection between an environmental cult and a serial rapist and killer could be is beyond me, but Müller-Voigt expressed real fears about them. He reckoned that his girlfriend was investigating them and that was why she disappeared. I have to say that it is more than a coincidence that all official records – all
computerised
records – of this woman’s existence in Germany seem to have disappeared into the same black hole as my text messages. It’s also a hell of a coincidence that
Virtual Dimension
, this role-playing crap site that all the Network Killer’s victims were logged into, is also owned by the Korn-Pharos Corporation.’

‘You think this cult has targeted you as well?’ Susanne frowned.

‘My guess is that they suspected that Müller-Voigt knew more than he did and passed some of that on to me – enough to start me looking in places they don’t want me looking. The problem is that I’m not as smart or well-informed as they suspect.’

‘But you’re the
police
, for God’s sake. They can’t take on the police or the government and get away with it.’

‘From what I’ve found out so far, the Pharos Project and the Korn-Pharos Corporation have between them several hundred times the budget and ten times the manpower of the Polizei Hamburg. This isn’t just some commercial concern or cooky cult, Susanne – this is more like a
state
but without physical borders. There’s no way I would underestimate Pharos or how far they would go to achieve their goals. I think that could be a fatal mistake.’

‘If you and Menke are so sure Pharos is behind all of this, why can’t you bring people in for questioning?’

‘After my
interrogation
by van Heiden I talked to the State Prosecutor’s Office. We just don’t have enough to justify a warrant. And in any case, we’re talking about a corporation and a cult – groups of people, not individuals. We’re still far, far away from placing an individual at any of the murder scenes. Oh no, I forgot, we can place
one
individual at the murder scene … there’s a bronze sculpture covered in fingerprints in the evidence store. Unfortunately those fingerprints just happen to be mine.’ Fabel let go a long sigh. ‘Sorry. The point is that we don’t have enough to get a warrant and, even if we did, we don’t know what or who we’re looking for.’

Susanne came over to him and brushed a lock of blond hair back from his brow. ‘You’ll get there. Try not to worry. Just do what you always do and look at the big picture. No one else does it the way you do. You hungry?’

Fabel shook his head. ‘I’m going to catch up with my reading.’ He dropped the file onto the kitchen table. ‘Maybe you’re right, but somehow I think this particular picture is too big even for me.’

* * *

As he read the BfV file, Fabel found himself being drawn deeper and deeper into something more complex and wide-ranging than he had ever imagined. And a way of perceiving the world that he really could not understand.