Free A Fear of Dark Water by Craig Russell Page B

he had of time-checking the beginning and end of each meeting, or segment of a meeting, or time between meetings. Time was important to van Heiden. Fabel had worked with him for seven years and the relationship had become as relaxed and close as a relationship with van Heiden could become. Fabel had no doubt that van Heiden respected him, even liked him, but the Criminal Director was a hard man to read. Distant. Closed-off.
    There were two other men in the office, sitting facing van Heiden’s desk. They both turned in their chairs when Fabel came in. He recognised one of them instantly – a medium-height fit-looking man in his mid-fifties with receding greying hair swept severely back and a neatly trimmed beard. As he had the first time they had met, he gave Fabel the impression of a successful film director, artist or writer. Fabel was taken aback by the synchronicity of it all.
    ‘Ah, Jan … thanks for coming at such short notice,’ van Heiden said and indicated the chair between the two men. ‘You know Herr Müller-Voigt, I believe?’
    ‘Indeed I do.’ Fabel shook hands with Müller-Voigt. ‘How are you, Herr Senator? I heard you on the radio this morning.’
    ‘Oh, that?’ Müller-Voigt looked as if the memory of it was vaguely irritating. ‘I don’t know why they put me in with that idiot …’
    Fabel made a vague ‘mmmm’ noise of agreement, hiding the fact that he had been too sleepy even to take in who that idiot was, or indeed anything other than the sketchiest impression of what was being discussed.
    ‘And may I introduce Herr Fabian Menke, of the BfV?’ Van Heiden indicated the other man. Menke was in his late thirties, Fabel reckoned, and had thinning fair hair and blue eyes behind frameless spectacles. His suit was several hundred euros downmarket from Müller-Voigt’s designer casual-chic. The BfV was the Bundesamt für Verfassungsschutz, the Federal Office for Protection of the Constitution: Germany’s main internal security service. The agency’s brief covered anything that was considered to endanger German democracy: skinheads and neo-Nazis, left-wing extremist groups, Islamic terrorism, destructive cults or anti-democratic groups, foreign espionage. More controversially, the BfV had a unit devoted to the monitoring of the activities of Scientology in Germany. Even the Interior Ministry of the Hamburg State Government had a Scientology Task Force and, although Fabel had not met Menke before, he had heard of him and knew he was the main liaison between the BfV and Hamburg’s law-enforcement agencies. Van Heiden turned to Menke: ‘This is Principal Chief Commissar Fabel, who heads our special Murder Commission team.’
    Fabel shook hands with Menke and sat down.
    ‘I’ve heard about your unit, Herr Fabel,’ said Menke. ‘I believe you now assist other Murder Commissions across the Federal Republic with complex cases.’
    ‘When we can,’ said Fabel. ‘I’m afraid that, at the moment, we have too much of a workload of our own to deal with.’
    ‘Ah, yes, this Network Killer case?’ Müller-Voigt cut in. ‘I believe there was another body found this morning.’
    ‘We found a body, yes, Herr Senator. But we have not established whether or not it is linked to the other murders.’
    ‘You think it may be unconnected?’ asked Müller-Voigt. Fabel remained silent for a moment, fighting back the instinct to tell the politician that such information was a police matter and none of his damn business.
    ‘Our investigations are continuing,’ said Fabel blankly. He turned to his boss. ‘You wanted to see me about something, Criminal Director?’
    ‘Em, yes. Yes, I did.’ Van Heiden had clearly sensed the tension between Fabel and Müller-Voigt. He reached across the vast plain of his desk and handed a file over to Fabel. We have a major environmental summit, GlobalConcern Hamburg, about to take place in the city. As Environment Senator, Herr Müller-Voigt here heads up the