‘After what you told me on the phone the other day, I could hardly not come.’ Wagner looked up at the dark mass of the cathedral. One of the spires was encased in scaffolding that looked toothpick-fragile compared to the spire’s mass. ‘There’s always scaffolding somewhere on it … it took three hundred years to build and it looks like it’ll take an eternity to repair.’ He smiled. ‘I must say it’s very Graham Greene … meeting at the cathedral and everything.’

‘I didn’t want to meet at the Police Presidium. I’m working this Karneval case with Benni Scholz. I didn’t want, well … to confuse things. I didn’t have time to head out to BKA headquarters, and you said you would be in Cologne …’

‘Listen, it’s not a problem. By the way, I just wanted to ask you … your decision … you know, what you said on the phone. Is that your final decision?’

‘Yes …’ Fabel thought back to his phone call to Wagner from his office in Hamburg immediately after he had heard from Dr Minks about Maria’s absence.

‘I have to say, I agree that we have to get Frau Klee out of the picture. Not just because she’s compromising our operation again, but for the sake of her well-being. But I have to be frank, Herr Fabel …’

‘Call me Jan …’ Cologne’s informality seemed to be affecting Fabel.

‘I have to be frank, Jan: I think Frau Klee is finished as a police officer.’

‘Let’s concentrate on saving her life first, then we’ll see about saving her career.’

Fabel had only been in the cathedral once before and as he and Wagner stepped through the double doors into the main body of the building he recalled his previous awe. It had to be one of the most impressive buildings ever built. The vast vaulted space that opened up before them seemed too huge to be sustained in the fabric of the building. For a moment the two men remained silent as they each took in the majesty of the cathedral and its enormous stained-glass windows. On the way in Fabel and Wagner passed a shortish, stocky man with thick sand-coloured hair and a dense bush of moustache. He appeared to be wearing several layers of woollens under his stockman coat. His spectacles were perched on the top of his head and he was peering up, frowning, at one of the detailed stained-glass panels. He had a pen and a thick notebook clutched in one hand and a guidebook in the other.

‘Excuse me …’ He turned and spoke to them in English as they passed. ‘Could you tell me … there is a coat of arms up there. You see …’

‘It probably signifies one of the wealthy merchant families in Cologne,’ said Fabel.