‘Herr and Frau Ganz,’ I said, ‘I’m afraid you must prepare yourselves for the worst possible news. We found the body of your daughter Liza early this morning. I’m very sorry.’ Becker nodded solemnly.

‘Yes,’ said Ganz. ‘Yes, I thought so.’

‘Naturally there will have to be an identification,’ I told him. ‘It needn’t be right away. Perhaps later on, when you’ve had a chance to draw yourselves together.’ I waited for Frau Ganz to dissolve, but for the moment at least she seemed inclined to remain solid. Was it because she was a nurse, and rather more immune to suffering and pain? Even her own? ‘May we sit down?’

‘Yes, please do,’ said Ganz.

I told Becker to go and make some coffee for us all. He went with some alacrity, eager to be out of the grief-stricken atmosphere, if only for a moment or two.

‘Where did you find her?’ said Ganz.

It wasn’t the sort of question I felt comfortable answering. How do you tell two parents that their daughter’s naked body was found inside a tower of car tyres in a disused garage on Kaiser Wilhelm Strasse? I gave him the sanitized version, which included no more than the location of the garage. At this there occurred a very definite exchange of looks.

Ganz sat with his hand on his wife’s knee. She herself was quiet, vacant even, and perhaps less in need of Becker’s coffee than I was.

‘Have you any idea who might have killed her?’ he said.

‘We’re working on a number of possibilities, sir,’ I said, finding the old police platitudes coming back to me once again. ‘We’re doing everything we can, believe me.’

Ganz’s frown deepened. He shook his head angrily. ‘What I fail to understand is why there has been nothing in the newspapers.’

‘It’s important that we prevent any copy-cat killings,’ I said. ‘It often happens in this sort of case.’

‘Isn’t it also important that you stop any more girls from being murdered?’ said Frau Ganz. Her look was one of exasperation. ‘Well, it’s true, isn’t it? Other girls have been murdered. That’s what people are saying. You may be able to keep it out of the papers, but you can’t stop people from talking.’

‘There have been propaganda drives warning girls to be on their guard,’ I said.

‘Well, they obviously didn’t do any good, did they?’ said Ganz. ‘Liza was an intelligent girl, Kommissar. Not the kind to do anything stupid. So this killer must be clever too. And the way I see it, the only way to put girls properly on their guard is to print the story, in all its horror. To scare them.’