‘No.’ Bahlow’s face was deadpan. He’d be a dab hand at poker.

‘How he was killed?’

‘No, other than that he seems to have been buried alive in concrete. But presumably you know, as you’ve just been to see the pathologist. I’ll be having a chat with him later.’

‘What about when he was killed?’

Müller let the question hang in the air. Bahlow seemed in no hurry to answer this one, and let a small smile play on his face. The purr of the Volvo’s engine – so much smoother than the two-stroke Wartburg – filled the silence.

‘All right. You’ve got me there. Our helpful pathologist Dr Giesler isn’t much of a friend of my esteemed organisation. I can’t think why. No doubt he’s already been making insinuations.’

Müller returned his smile. For a Stasi man, he didn’t seem entirely awful, although Müller could have done without this ‘friendly chat’ before the investigation had even got underway. His teeth shone in the afternoon sun a little like – Müller imagined – some of the sparkling jewels of the kings of Saxony, temporarily housed in the Albertinium in the old city centre. Their normal home, the Grünes Gewölbe, the Green Vault, hadn’t yet been restored after the terror bombing at the end of the war. ‘I found Dr Giesler extremely co-operative. It was refreshing.’ She liked having one up on a Ministry for State Security agent, no matter that it was an insignificant victory. ‘And yes, he highlighted the discrepancy – there seems to be a missing day at least, perhaps longer.’

‘We had to do a small pre-investigation first. To make sure the case was indeed one for the Kripo, rather than us.’

‘And what satisfied you on that count?’

Bahlow didn’t answer. Gottschald had braked to a halt, and the view from the window – rows and rows of Plattenbauten, some built, some half built – told her they’d reached their destination. The crime scene, or at least, the scene where the body had been discovered. She saw Tilsner and Schmidt getting out of the Wartburg ahead of them.

‘Aha,’ exclaimed Bahlow. ‘Your deputy’s reputation precedes him – not only does he play it fast and loose in investigations, he does in cars too. Impressive that he managed to beat us in one of the Republic’s models.’ He got out of the car, and held the rear door open for Müller. Then he banged the roof of the Volvo. ‘Perhaps the Swedes can still learn something from us.’

Müller shrugged. She wasn’t going to get into a conversation about boys’ toys. However, she wasn’t prepared to let the implied slight against Tilsner pass without comment. ‘Oberleutnant Tilsner is an excellent and loyal officer.’