The Carnival Master

7.

At Fabel’s suggestion they left the car parked and he and Scholz walked to St Ursula’s. The church sat in a small square, hemmed in by neighbouring buildings. There was a bar-restaurant at one end of the square and a parochial house jammed against the flank of the church.

‘Where was Sabine Jordanski found?’ Fabel asked.

‘Over there, behind the church.’

Fabel and the others followed Scholz round the side of the church. As with the scene of Melissa Schenker’s murder, it was concealed from view. Another hidden death trap.

‘Where did she live?’

‘Her apartment was around the corner and over on Gereonswall.’ Scholz indicated the street that swept away from them.

‘Something doesn’t make sense…’ Fabel looked back in the direction of the city.

‘What?’ asked Scholz.

‘I’m convinced that the killer lies in wait for his victims. But the church is on the wrong side. She wouldn’t have passed by here.’

Scholz smiled grimly and shook his head. ‘She was with friends when she came home. They split up here and headed off. Even if she had come this way, the killer couldn’t have grabbed her. She was with witnesses.’

‘Then he must have either persuaded or forced her to come up here.’

‘Must have.’

‘That could mean that this specific church does have a significance. There was no sign of sexual contact?’ Fabel asked although he knew the answer.

‘None,’ answered Tansu. ‘No semen, no evidence of sexual assault.’

The four detectives stood looking at the ghost of a murder scene. The second they’d examined that day. Fabel was beginning to understand the dynamic of this small team: Scholz acted as if he wasn’t the boss, Kris and Tansu called him Benni and never Chef, but the truth was that he steered his team probably more strictly than Fabel did his. Kris was the apprentice: quietly gathering the gems of wisdom from Scholz’s feet. Tansu was strong-willed and intelligent, but still unsure of her feet and unwilling to challenge Scholz. It was clear that he had closed his mind to Tansu’s theory about the rape victim in ’ninety-nine. Fabel, on the other hand, could see her reasoning.

‘There’s something you’ve got to see.’ Scholz hunched up his shoulders against the cold and led Fabel towards the vast dark doors of St Ursula’s. Fabel followed him into the church, gazing up at the vaulted ceilings and the stained glass that burned dully against the winter light beyond.

‘Very nice.’

‘That’s not what I wanted to show you.’ Scholz guided Fabel to a vast reinforced door immediately to the right of the main entrance.

‘We’ll stay here,’ said Tansu. ‘It gives me the creeps down there.’

Fabel and Scholz went down stone steps into the crypt of the church.

‘This is open to the public during the day, but it’s monitored constantly by CCTV. And that massive door you saw is shut tight and time-locked at night.’

Fabel stopped in his tracks. The vaulted ceiling was whitewashed, with gilded details. Apart from that, it was as if the whole space had been lined with gold. But it was what the gold covered that fascinated Fabel.

‘The Golden Chamber…’ explained Scholz. ‘St Ursula’s is the second-oldest Romanesque church in Cologne. As you saw, the city has kind of encroached on its space, but there used to be an extensive graveyard outside dating back to Roman times.’

Fabel stared all around the chamber. The details on the walls were of bones and skulls. Real bones and skulls, pressed into the mortar of the walls and arranged in geometric patterns. Hundreds of them. Thousands. All gilded. The art of death. There were small alcoves pressed into the walls of the vault. Each contained a plaster bust.

‘Do you know the legend of St Ursula?’ asked Scholz.

Fabel shook his head. He was still taking in the detail of the chamber. So many dead. Gilded human remains used as ornament. It was awe-inspiring. And gross.

‘Ursula was a British princess who travelled here with eleven thousand virgins. Unfortunately, when they arrived Cologne was besieged by a horde of horny Huns from the East. Ursula and her virgins all died rather than lose their honour, or something like that.’ Scholz laughed. ‘You’d be pushed to find eleven thousand virgins in Cologne these days. Anyway, the story started out that there were eleven virgins with St Ursula, but you know what we’re like here in Cologne… we started off by bumping it up it up to eleven hundred, then eleven thousand. Anyway, there’s every reason to believe that there was some kind of martyrdom involving virgins around the fifth century. Story goes that they were buried in the graveyard here. When the graveyard was dug up, the Golden Chamber was built to house and display the remains. The truth is more likely to be that these bones date from across a couple of centuries. There are also dozens of ossuaries, and these plaster busts contain the remains of those wealthy enough to have a special place put aside for them.

‘It’s morbid…’ said Fabel.

‘It’s Catholicism.’ Scholz smiled. ‘We’re very big on memento mori. Have fun when you’re alive but remember that death and eternity is waiting for you. Like I said, it’s a concept we’ve refined and concentrated into Karneval.’

‘Why did you want me to see this?’ asked Fabel. ‘Do you think there’s some significance? The virgin legend and the Golden Chamber? According to Tansu, the rape victim seven years ago was attacked at the back of this church. And she was a virgin.’

‘I suppose it’s possible there’s a connection between that case and the killings. But I thought you’d want to see this. Both murders were in close proximity to St Ursula’s. Maybe all this,’ Scholz encompassed the Golden Chamber with a sweep of his hand, ‘has some special significance for the killer. Maybe he assumed that Melissa Schenker was a virgin. Certainly her lifestyle seemed to be pretty celibate. But Sabine Jordanski strikes me as someone who would have given up that status pretty enthusiastically some time ago.’

Fabel nodded. ‘But there must be something that brought these girls to his attention. Not just the fact that they had his particular taste in body shape. He’s seen them before the night he killed them. Somehow and somewhere there is a commonality.’

Fabel stared at one of the ossuary wall panels. It stared back at him from the dark sockets of a gilded skull. He turned from its hollow gaze and made his way to the steps out of the Golden Chamber. ‘When we get back to your office, I’d like to go over the files again. I know we’re missing it.’