‘And that nurse was Kristina Dreyer.’ Maria concluded the thought.
Fabel nodded. ‘Our first thought was that Rauhe had stalked her after his escape, having targeted her while a patient; and that he had subsequently abducted and probably murdered her. So the Murder Commission became involved. I took a unit up to Kristina’s flat in Harburg. We heard sounds from inside… whining… so we broke down the door. And, just as we’d expected, there was a murder scene waiting for us. But it wasn’t Kristina who’d been murdered. She was standing, naked, in the middle of the apartment. She was covered from head to toe with blood. In fact, the whole room was covered in blood. She was holding an axe in her hand and there, on the floor, was what was left of Ernst Rauhe.’
‘Now we’ve got history repeating itself?’ said Maria.
Fabel sighed. ‘I don’t know. It just doesn’t fit. It came out during the investigation that Ernst Rauhe had amused himself during the latter part of his liberty by repeatedly raping and torturing Kristina. She had been a pretty little thing, apparently, but in the last few days he beat her face to a pulp. But it was maybe the psychological torment he inflicted more than the physical abuse that drove her to kill him. He had made her crawl around naked, like a dog. He wouldn’t let her wash. It was awful. Then, repeatedly, he strangled her, always almost to the point of death. She realised that it was only a matter of time before he tired of her. And when he tired of her, she knew that he would murder her, as he had all the others.’
‘So she struck first?’
‘Yes. She hit him in the back of the head with the axe. But she was too small and light and the blow didn’t kill him. When he came at her, she just kept hacking and hacking at him with the axe. Ernst Rauhe eventually bled to death, but the evidence showed that Kristina went on hacking at him long after he was dead. There was blood, flesh and bone all over the place. She had really mashed up his face. At that time it was by far the worst murder scene I had ever attended.’
Maria and Werner sat quiet for a moment, as if transported to the small rented apartment in Harburg, where a younger Fabel had stood, stunned and horrified in a scene from hell.
‘Kristina was never convicted of Rauhe’s murder,’ Fabel continued. ‘It was acknowledged that she had been driven temporarily insane by Rauhe’s sadistic treatment of her and, in any case, had a pretty good reason to believe that he was going to kill her. But she did get six years in Fuhlsbuttel for aiding his escape. If he had actually killed someone else while he’d been at liberty, I doubt if Kristina would have got less than fifteen.’
‘You’re right,’ said Maria eventually. ‘It doesn’t make any sense. As far as we know, Kristina had no involvement with Hauser other than as his weekly cleaner. And we saw the mutilation of the corpse. That took time. It was deliberate and it would have taken premeditation… planning. And it was meant to have some kind of significance. From what you’ve said, when Kristina killed Rauhe it was a frenzy, brought on by a build-up of sustained terror that tipped over into sudden panic or fury. It was all hot blood. Hauser’s killing was clearly planned. Cold-blooded.’
Fabel nodded. ‘That’s what I think. Just look at the attack she just had. She’s clearly highly strung. It doesn’t fit with what we saw at the murder scene.’
‘Hold on,’ said Werner. ‘Aren’t we forgetting the fact that she was caught trying to hide her handiwork… if you’re innocent, why try to conceal evidence? Plus, it’s a hell of a coincidence that the person we catch there just happens to have been convicted of killing someone before.’
‘I know,’ said Fabel. ‘I’m not saying that it isn’t Kristina. All I’m saying is that the pieces don’t yet fit and we have to keep an open mind.’
Werner shrugged. ‘You’re the boss…’
5.30 p.m.: Police Presidium, Alsterdorf, Hamburg
By the time that Susanne had given Fabel the okay to re-interview Kristina Dreyer, the accumulated dragging weight of his first day back at work was slowing him down. He and Susanne sat in his office, drinking coffee, and discussed Kristina’s state of mind. The dull, resigned tiredness in Susanne’s dark eyes reflected Fabel’s own. What had started out as a quiet first day back for them both had turned into something complex and taxing.
‘You are going to have to take it very easy with her,’ said Susanne. ‘She’s in a very fragile state. And I really feel that I’d like to sit in on the interview.’
‘Okay…’ Fabel rubbed his eyes, as if trying to banish the tiredness from them. ‘What’s your assessment of her?’
‘It’s clear that she suffers from severe neurosis rather than any kind of psychosis. I have to say that, despite the evidence against her, I feel she is a highly unlikely candidate for this murder. My take on Kristina Dreyer is that she is more victim than perpetrator.’
‘All right…’ Fabel held open the door for Susanne. ‘Let’s go and find out.’
Kristina Dreyer looked small and vulnerable in the white forensic coverall that she was still wearing from earlier in the day. Fabel sat over by the wall and allowed Maria and Werner to lead the interview. Susanne sat beside Kristina, who had declined the right to legal representation.
‘You feel up to talking, Kristina?’ Maria asked, although there was not much solicitude in her voice and she switched on the black tape recorder before waiting for an answer. Kristina nodded.
‘I just want to get this whole thing cleared up,’ she said. ‘I didn’t kill him. I didn’t kill Herr Hauser. I hardly ever saw him.’
‘But, Kristina,’ said Werner, ‘you’ve killed before. And we found you cleaning up the scene of this murder. If you want to get this “all cleared up”, why don’t you just tell us the truth? We know you killed Herr Hauser and you tried to cover it up. If you hadn’t been disturbed, you would have got away with it.’
Kristina stared at Werner but didn’t answer. Fabel thought he could see her tremble slightly.
‘Ease up a little, Chief Commissar,’ said Susanne to Werner. She turned to Kristina and softened her tone. ‘Kristina, Herr Hauser has been murdered. What you did by cleaning up the mess has made it very difficult for the police to find out exactly what happened. And the longer it takes them to get to the bottom of it all, the more difficult it will be to find the killer, if it wasn’t you. You need to tell the officers everything you can about exactly what happened.’
Kristina Dreyer nodded again, then shot a look across Maria’s shoulder at Fabel, as if seeking support from the officer who had arrested her over ten years before. ‘You know what happened before, Herr Fabel. You know what Ernst Rauhe did to me…’
‘Yes, I do, Kristina. And I want to understand what happened this time. Did Herr Hauser do something to you?’
‘No… God, no. Like I said, I hardly ever saw Herr Hauser. He was always out at work when I cleaned his place. He would leave me my money in an envelope on the hallstand. He didn’t do anything to me. Ever.’
‘So what happened, Kristina? If you didn’t kill Herr Hauser, why were you found cleaning up the murder scene?’
‘There was so much blood. So much blood. Everywhere. It drove me mad.’ Kristina paused; then, although it still quivered, her voice hardened, as if she had drawn a steel line taut through her nerves. ‘I arrived to clean Herr Hauser’s place this morning, just as usual. I have a key and I let myself in. I knew there was something wrong as soon as I went into the apartment. Then I found… Then I found that thing…’