‘Shall we take a break?’ his interviewer said, leaning back in her swivel chair. She’d been introduced to him as Dr Elizabeth Klein. Apparently she’d worked for years at the Federal Intelligence Service, where she’d developed a reputation as an interrogation expert, specialising in psychopathic serial killers. At first glance, however, she looked more like the spiritual course leader of an esoteric self-help group. All items of her clothing shimmered in every tone of orange imaginable, from the cardigan she’d knitted herself to the voluminous culottes.

‘No,’ Martin replied, removing the patches from his arm and chest. ‘We’re not going to take a break. We’re going to finish here.’

Against expectation Dr Klein nodded. ‘So you’ve got nothing more to tell us?’

‘Apart from the fact that anyone who contradicts my version of events can kiss my arse?’ Martin put a finger to the corner of his mouth and pretended to think. ‘No.’ He shook his head.

Dr Klein gazed at one of the many bangles on her right arm, twiddled it and nodded. When she looked back up at him there was a wise expression in her eyes.

No sympathy, please. I can’t cope with sympathy now.

Martin cleared his throat and asked whether he might get up. Dr Klein sighed. ‘Alright. Of course, we’re a long way off concluding this internal investigation. You must know how long it takes when an officer is caught up in a homicide.’

She gave him the hint of a smile.

‘But I can tell you now that for the most part your statements concur with the information we’ve received from the captain, the doctor, this’ – she leafed through a slim file in front of her – ‘this Tiago Álvarez character and Gerlinde Dobkowitz.’

‘Fantastic.’ Martin rubbed his cold hands. ‘Was I able to convince the technology too?’

He pointed first at the camera in the ceiling, then at the laptop between them, on which the lie detector had recorded his vital signs during his statement.

The interrogator wiggled her hand from side to side.

‘According to the polygraph you seem to be telling the truth. Apart from…’

Martin raised his eyebrows. ‘Apart from what?’

She gave him a long stare. Then she took a tissue from one of the many pockets in an item of clothing – now Martin couldn’t be sure whether it was a pair of culottes or wraparound dress.

She blew her nose, stood up, went over to the security camera and pulled out a cable that ran directly from the wall into the device.

‘Let’s talk privately, Herr Schwartz.’

She looked down at him like a vulture targeting its prey. Martin eyed her sceptically as she returned to the desk.