Fabel moved closer. Slowly. Reaching into his belt, he removed his set of handcuffs. ‘We can talk about it, Herr Hoeffer. I want to talk about it. To understand. But you need to come with me. You understand that, don’t you?’ Fabel eased between the parked cars. There was a flash: a glint of sharp steel as Ansgar took something from his coat pocket. Fabel reached for his gun which was not there. As a visiting officer from another city’s force, Fabel was unarmed. Ansgar held the blade in front of him, shaking.

‘I’m sick,’ he repeated. ‘A pervert. I don’t deserve to live … I can’t stand this chaos …’ The blade flashed in the dim street light as it arced first upwards, then down – towards Ansgar’s abdomen. Ansgar was hurled off his feet as Fabel slammed into him. The impact threw Ansgar against the wall and the knife fell with a clatter.

‘No, you don’t,’ said Fabel as he turned Ansgar onto his belly and twisted his arms behind him, clasping the handcuffs shut. ‘I’ve lost one already that way.’

2.

‘So who’s our killer?’ asked Scholz. ‘I am seriously fucking confused. We have positive proof that it was Lüdeke who raped Vera-cum-Andrea in ’ninety-nine, yet now we find Ansgar Hoeffer loitering outside her apartment and he’s ready to make a confession.’

‘A confession to what, we don’t know yet,’ said Fabel.

‘Well, I think we can hazard a guess … The search of his apartment has turned up this pile of goodies.’ Scholz indicated a cardboard evidence box on his desk. ‘And we’ve done a quick check of his computer. Three guesses what his favourite website is?’

‘Anthropophagi?’

‘In one,’ said Scholz.

Fabel looked through the contents of the evidence box. A few magazines, DVDs, older VHS tapes. Fabel read some of the DVD titles, all of which were variations on a theme: Flesh-Eating Zombie Women, Cannibals of Lesbos, Food for the Demon Women.

‘What’s up?’ asked Scholz. ‘Seen something you want to borrow?’

‘There’s something wrong here. Doesn’t fit. Let’s go talk to him. In the meantime, I think Tansu should stay outside Andrea Sandow’s place, just until we hit midnight. Have you updated her on what’s happened?’

‘Yep … she says this better not interfere with her going to the party …’

Fabel looked Scholz up and down. ‘By the way,’ he said, with a grin. ‘I think you should maybe think about changing out of your skirt before we question him …’

Fabel found himself feeling genuinely sorry for Ansgar Hoeffer. He sat in the interview room pale and sad, his cheek bruised from its encounter with the wall that Fabel had rammed him into.

‘Why were you outside Andrea Sandow’s apartment?’ asked Scholz.

‘I wanted to see her. I needed …’ He let the thought die.

‘Needed what?’ asked Fabel.

‘I have this thing …’