Schreiber’s eyes widened slightly. ‘Yes … shirts, a spare suit, toiletries, et cetera … How on earth did you know that?’

‘The sports bag. You were either collecting something or carrying the murder weapon in it.’

It had been the sports bag that had brought Fabel to envision the scene: the end of a relationship; the removal of the last personal belongings from the apartment. Fabel remembered how he himself had used exactly the same kind of bag, Renate standing silent, Gabi asleep in her room, as he had disinvested himself from their family home five years before.

‘When did you leave the apartment?’

‘About a quarter to nine.’

‘You were only there for fifteen minutes?’

‘I guess. Angelika had just stepped out of the bath and had some work to get on with that evening, so I just picked up my stuff and went.’

‘Was there any kind of argument?’

‘No … of course not. Our continued friendship was too valuable to throw away. It was all very civilised really.’

‘And you didn’t see anyone else arriving as you left?’

Schreiber took a moment to think, then shook his head. ‘No, I can’t say I did.’

‘What time did you get home?’ asked Fabel.

‘About nine-ten, nine-fifteen.’

‘And your wife can confirm this?’

‘Do you have to bring Karin into this?’ There was a hint of pleading in Schreiber’s tone.

‘I’m afraid we do, if she’s the only person who can confirm you were back by nine-fifteen. The autopsy of Frau Blüm states she was murdered sometime around ten p.m.’

Schreiber had the look of a man who had sewn his life together, tight and neat, only to see it come apart at the seams.

‘And we’ll need your fingerprints, Herr Doktor Schreiber,’ added Fabel.

‘I think we could arrange for a technician to do that here …’ said Van Heiden, looking at Fabel as if for approval, ‘discreetly.’

Fabel nodded his acceptance. ‘Brauner himself is the best guy to send. I’ll arrange it.’ Fabel turned back to Schreiber. ‘I’ll probably have more questions for you at some point.’

Schreiber nodded. There was a pause.

‘The first victim, Ursula Kastner – I believe she worked for the Hamburg state government. Did you know her?’ asked Fabel.

‘Of course I knew her. She worked in our environment and property law office. She was involved with projects like Hafen City and the St Pauli regeneration project. I knew her well. She was an excellent lawyer.’

‘Did you have any kind of relationship with her, other than a professional one?’

Schreiber straightened his shoulders, as if mustering the scattered remnants of his dignity. The trapezius muscles strained against the sleek fabric of his Armani suit. It was the kind of conformation that only comes from serious weight work in a gym. Fabel could imagine that Schreiber was physically very strong. Powerful enough in a killing frenzy to wrench open a victim’s ribs.

‘No, Herr Fabel, I didn’t have any kind of inappropriate relationship with Frau Kastner. Contrary to the impression you may have of me, I am neither a serial killer nor a serial philanderer. The affair I had with Angelika is the only time I have strayed in my marriage. And the only reason that happened was because Angelika and I had a history. There was no personal dimension to my relationship with Ursula Kastner … although it was I who introduced her to Angelika.’