‘Are you Lyudmila Blyzniuk?’ Scholz struggled over the surname.

‘Yes. But I never use my full first name. I’m known as Mila. What have I done? My papers are all in order.’

‘But you also go by the professional name “Anastasia”?’

‘Yes. I never give clients my real name. What’s this about?’

‘Let me see your identity papers.’ Scholz held out his hand.

‘What? Here?’ She glanced nervously at the reception desk. Scholz made an impatient gesture and Mila took her identity card and a couple of immigration papers from her handbag.

‘Maybe we should sit down somewhere a little more private …’ Fabel suggested, indicating a group of low sofas by the window.

‘Mila, we want to talk to you about the incident with the client a few weeks ago. The man who bit you.’ Fabel tried to sound less confrontational than Scholz. ‘This is nothing to do with you or what you do for a living. We think the man who bit you is dangerous.’

‘You don’t need to tell me that,’ said Mila, her expression still hard and resistant. ‘Everybody thought it was a big laugh. Me getting bitten on the … I forgotten the German word for it … on my sraka …’

‘Arse,’ said Scholz.

‘Yeah, big joke. I have a big arse and he bites me on it. Very funny. But he is a very bad man. Dangerous man. I had to have stitches. He was like an animal, not a human being. I saw his face afterwards, covered in blood.’

‘Let’s take this one step at a time, Mila,’ said Fabel. ‘Describe this man to us.’

‘He was about thirty to thirty-five, a little less than two metres tall. Medium build … he looked fit, like he worked out a lot. Dark hair, blue eyes. He was good-looking. Not the usual sort of client.’

‘What type of person was he? I mean rich, poor, educated or not?’

‘He was definitely educated and had money. I mean from the way he was dressed.’

‘He paid cash?’ asked Scholz.

‘Yes. And he gave me a little extra. I knew he had special requirements. The agency told me.’

‘That he liked to bite?’

‘That he liked big bottoms. Like mine.’

‘What happened? I mean at the hotel.’

‘We went up to the room and he asked me to take off my clothes. Then he started to touch my bottom.’ Mila talked as if she was describing an everyday occurrence, without the slightest hint of embarrassment. ‘Then he took his clothes off and I thought that would be it, that we would have normal sex. But then he pushed me onto the bed, very rough. I started to get worried, but he talked all calm and asked if he could bite me on the bottom. I thought he meant pretend bites. But then he attacked me, like he was an animal. He bit me really hard. I swear he was trying to take a chunk out of me …’