Scholz apologised a little too profusely for being late and took Fabel up to his office. Fabel smiled when he saw that the old prototype Karneval head had gone and someone had pushed files, phone and computer keyboard to one side and placed a new version square in the centre of Scholz’s desk. A yellow Post-it note with nothing but a large question mark had been stuck on the snout.

‘Very funny,’ said Scholz, turning it to face Fabel. ‘Better?’

‘Different …’ said Fabel.

Scholz looked at the head again appraisingly, sighed, and placed it in the corner where its predecessor had skulked.

‘I’d like you to meet the team I’ve got working on the Karneval Killer case,’ he said at last. He beckoned through the glass door and two officers came into the office. One was a young man who Fabel knew must have been in his late twenties to be a Commissar in the Murder Commission, but his skinny frame and pale, acned skin made him look more like a teenager. The other officer was a young woman of about thirty. She had a full figure and her hair was a mass of coppery-red coils.

‘This is Kris Feilke,’ said Scholz indicating the young man, ‘and Tansu Bakrac.’

Fabel smiled. From her name, Fabel knew that the female officer must be Turkish-German. He found himself wondering if the rich copper in her hair came from the ancient Celtic tribes who had settled in Galatia. The two officers shook hands with Fabel and sat down. Fabel noticed the informality between Scholz and his junior officers and wondered how disciplined they were as a team.

‘Okay, Jan,’ said Scholz. ‘We have only three weeks to go until Karneval. And as sure as bears crap in the woods, our guy is going to come looking for some more meat. For once I have the opportunity to prevent a murder rather than solve one. Or should I say we have the opportunity to prevent it. I’m afraid I just keep coming up blank. So we’re open to anything you have to suggest.’

‘Okay, I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of getting a few things in motion before I came down,’ said Fabel. ‘You remember the Armin Meiwes case?’

‘’Course … the Rotenburg Cannibal?’ said Scholz.

‘Meiwes advertised for his victim. On the Internet. Gave himself the online identity of the Master Butcher. Twenty years ago, Meiwes might have gone through life with his fantasies remaining just that, fantasies. But Meiwes had the Internet. The Internet is the great facilitator. The great anonymous meeting place where you can share your fetishes and perversions with others. The exceptional becomes ordinary and the abnormal normal.’

‘You think there’s an Internet connection with this case?’ asked Tansu.

‘I think it’s possible that there’s some direct link. Before we go any further I think we need to understand how our killer thinks.’