‘What about Monique’s address before she moved into the flat?’

Klugmann shrugged.

‘This is getting ridiculous.’ Werner leaned forward. His bulk and the brutality of his features gave his movements a menace that often wasn’t intended. In response Klugmann straightened himself in his chair and angled his head back defiantly. ‘You are trying to tell us that this girl moved into your life and into your apartment without you knowing her full name, or anything else about her?’

‘You have to admit, Herr Klugmann,’ said Fabel, ‘I mean, as a former policeman, that it does all seem a bit strange.’

Klugmann relaxed his pose. ‘Yeah. I suppose it does. But I’m telling you the truth. Listen, it’s a different world out there. Monique just, well, sort of appeared one night at the place I work and we got talking …’

‘She was on her own?’

‘Yes. That’s why I got talking to her. Arno, my boss, thought she was an expensive hooker trawling our club and told me to send her on her way. We got talking and she seemed a good kid. She asked me if I knew somewhere she could rent a room or an apartment and I told her about my flat.’

‘Why did you offer her your flat? Why don’t you live there yourself?’

‘I’m … well, sort of involved with one of the girls from the Tanzbar … Sonja. I was staying over most nights at her place because it was so close to the Tanzbar. After I leased the new place I moved in with Sonja while it was being decorated. Then I meet Monique, and she says she’s willing to pay well, and in advance, for a decent place to stay. She also said it would only be for maybe six to nine months. So I thought it was a good way to make a few extra euros …’

‘And you were to keep out of the way?’ asked Werner.

‘That was the deal …’

‘So what were you doing up there at that time of the night?’

‘I called up to see her. I did that now and again to check everything was okay. We got on …’

‘You were making a social call at two-thirty in the morning?’ Fabel asked.

‘Neither of us worked normal hours.’

‘What, exactly, is your job, Herr Klugmann?’

‘Like I told you, I work in a nightclub … a Tanzbar. I’m an assistant manager.’

Fabel consulted the file again. ‘Ah yes, the Paradies-Tanzbar off the Grosse Freiheit … that the one?’

‘Yeah.’

‘So you work for … ?’

‘You know who I work for …’ Klugmann looked down at the thumbnail he was now excavating with the other.

Fabel pulled a second file out from under the first. He flipped it open and scanned the first page. Klugmann saw his own photograph at the top right-hand corner. His hunched shoulders sagged. ‘Yes …’ Fabel leaned back in his chair and eyed Klugmann contemplatively. ‘Your current employer is Ersin Ulugbay … not exactly Hamburg citizen of the month, is he?’