Stern sighed. ‘What on earth was she doing wandering about on the road, miles from anywhere?’

‘I can only guess. We’ll have to wait for the autopsy, but my guess is she was on some kind of drugs. The driver of the truck said she seemed totally out of it when she stepped out in front of him. There was clearly nothing he could do to avoid hitting her, but he’s having a hard time accepting that. Poor swine.’

‘Have the parents been notified?’ asked Stern.

‘They’re on their way in. She had no bag or her ID card on her, but she was wearing a medimergency bracelet.’

Without thinking, Stern glanced at the girl’s wrist. Silly, of course, the bracelet had been taken away and stored by the police; but something caught his eye and he frowned, his black eyebrows forming a straight ridge and hooding his eyes. He leaned forward.

‘What is it?’ asked Sülberg.

Stern didn’t answer but turned the girl’s forearm, scrutinising the wrist. He turned his attention to her right ankle, then her left ankle before finally examining the left wrist with as much intensity.

Sülberg gave an impatient sigh. ‘What is it, Herr Doktor Stern?’

Stern held the girl’s wrist up.

Sülberg shrugged. ‘What am I supposed to be looking at. I don’t see …’

‘Look closer.’

Sülberg slipped his reading glasses from his uniform shirt pocket and put them on. As he leaned in to examine the girl’s wrist, his stomach lurched from the smell of the freshly dead. Then his attention was caught. There were scrapes on the skin and a very faint redness across the plain of the wrist.

‘It’s the same on the ankles …’ said Stern.

‘Shit …’ Sülberg removed his glasses. ‘She’s been tied up.’

‘She’s been tied up all right,’ said Stern, ‘but she hasn’t struggled much against her bonds. My guess is that she has been semi- or unconscious whilst bound. That would explain her being out of it and walking right into the path of that truck.’

Somehow the muscles in Sülberg’s face tautened and gave it a harder look. ‘I don’t want to wait for the full autopsy, Dr Stern. I want you to draw some blood now for analysis.’

Thursday 5 June, 12.00 p.m. Polizeipräsidium, Hamburg.

Fabel knew from the fire in Werner’s eyes that it was something important.

Werner had a methodical and painstaking approach to policework that contrasted with Fabel’s own, more intuitive style. Werner was all detail: Fabel was all big picture. It was this contrast that made them such a good team. The only thing that frustrated Fabel was Werner’s reluctance to open up to Maria Klee’s complementary analytical skills. And now Werner had that look that told Fabel he had been sniffing around in some small corner of the investigation and had found a scent to follow.

‘What’ve you got, Werner?’

Werner sat down opposite Fabel and gave a small laugh at being so easy to read. ‘Two things. First, difficult though it is to believe, our pal Klugmann has been less than straight with us.’