The Valkyrie Song

2

‘Am I being deported?’ asked Vestergaard with a cold smile when Fabel pulled up at the taxi rank outside the main terminal building of Hamburg-Fuhlsbuttel Airport. A uniformed Federal Police officer walked purposefully over to the car but Fabel stopped him in his tracks by holding his bronze oval Criminal Police disc up to the glass of his window.

‘No… this is all about arrival, Karin, not departure,’ said Fabel. ‘I want us to retrace Jespersen’s steps, as much as we can with the information we’ve got. You’re a Dane, like Jespersen, and you’re new to Hamburg. I’ve brought you along to point out the things I might miss. Okay, Jespersen arrives. As he’s walking through the arrivals hall he makes two calls, one to his deputy…’ Fabel snapped his fingers, impatient at his own forgetfulness.

‘Harald Tolstrup.’ Vestergaard helped him out.

‘Harald Tolstrup… who tells him that his hotel is booked.’

‘Harald also told Jens that I wanted to speak to him as soon as possible.’

‘Why was that?’

‘Simple. I wanted to know what the hell he was up to and to make sure he kept me up to date on his movements. I knew he wouldn’t, but I had to try to keep him on some kind of leash.’

‘Okay, so then he phones me at the Presidium, but I’m in a meeting so he leaves his number. He comes out of the terminal and takes a taxi into the city. We’ve not been able to trace the driver who took him, but given the flight arrival time and the time he checked into the hotel it’s pretty safe to say he travelled directly to the hotel without stops.’ Fabel started the engine again and pulled out. He drove back down towards the city.

‘Imagine you’re in a taxi. You’re Jespersen. You have the scrap of a rumour about a hit woman based in Hamburg that Vuja i c let slip six years ago. You have the name of a German detective in your notebook: me. You also have other bits of information at hand, like the name “Olaf”, but at the moment we can only guess about their relevance. There’s bits and pieces about the East German Stasi and in particular one officer… What was his name?’

‘Drescher. And Jens had been looking into Gennady Frolov, the Russian.’

‘Okay. So you’ve arrived in Hamburg. What do you do now?’

‘Well, I know where I’m going. I’m checked into the hotel and I’ve given the address to the taxi driver.’

‘Yes,’ said Fabel emphatically. ‘You do know where you’re going. But you’ve only just confirmed it with Tolstrup on the phone.’

‘So whoever kills me later that night doesn’t know yet where I am staying.’

‘Exactly. He was followed. Someone followed him from the airport.’ Fabel hit the button on his hands-free phone. It was Werner Meyer who answered. ‘Werner, I want you to get someone to contact the chief of security at Fuhlsbuttel. See if you can get the CCTV footage of the taxi rank outside arrivals from about half an hour before until half an hour after Jens Jespersen arrived. Use the phone log to check when he tried to get me at the Murder Commission. That’ll pinpoint when he left the airport building.’

‘Okay, Chef,’ said Werner. ‘What are we looking for?’

‘Jespersen getting into the taxi and leaving. I want the number of the taxi so we can trace the driver, but more specifically I want any trace of someone taking off after him.’

‘I’m on it, Chef. What do I tell the Nordic ice maiden if she turns up looking for you?’

‘She’s sitting right next to me, idiot,’ said Fabel. ‘And you’re on speakerphone. Just count yourself lucky that she can’t speak German.’

At the other end of the connection, Werner laughed. ‘It doesn’t matter what language I talk, women never understand me. I’ll get the footage organised. When will you be back?’

‘Give me a couple of hours or so. Sometime after lunch.’ Fabel turned to Vestergaard to see if there was any hint that she had picked up on Werner’s jibe. There wasn’t.

‘Okay, back to Jespersen. Where are you going now?’

Vestergaard frowned. ‘Somewhere I could get information on the Stasi.’

‘Wrong city. Berlin would have been his best bet for that — the Federal Commission that deals with Stasi files and information is based there. It has offices elsewhere, but all of them are in East Germany. Did he have any plans to travel further?’

‘Not that I know of.’

‘That doesn’t mean he didn’t intend to take time to go to Berlin. There’s a high-speed rail link from Hamburg. He could have got there and back in a day.’

Fabel drove on into the city and pulled up outside Vestergaard’s hotel on Alter Wall.

‘Okay,’ he said. ‘Jespersen stayed here too. He checks into the hotel and goes out. Why?’

‘To kill time. To see the city, maybe.’

‘Or to meet someone we don’t know about.’

‘It’s possible. Or he may have simply been looking for somewhere to get lunch. He was very regular in his eating habits.’

‘So let’s say he goes for lunch. Places to eat within walking distance from here…’ Fabel thought it over, then shook his head. ‘Central Hamburg… could be any of a hundred places. If there were only some way of narrowing it down.’

‘Is it that important to know where he ate?’

‘I think it might be. We’ve established that he was probably followed from the airport. He’s tried to speak to me but failed. My guess is that whoever was after him wanted him shut up before he could contact me. Whatever he was putting together, as soon as he started to frame it up and discuss it with others then too many people know about it for them to control it. They follow him here and tail him to where he was eating. It’s there that they make contact. Somehow they get someone to gain his trust. A woman. Maybe our so-called “Valkyrie”.’

‘But surely if he’s investigating a female professional killer…’

‘Remember he doesn’t know that they know about him. Some attractive woman bumps into him and starts a conversation and he doesn’t suspect a thing.’

‘Jens wasn’t really the chatty type.’ Vestergaard gave a bitter laugh. ‘Particularly in Germany.’

‘But remember we’re talking about real experts. Prepared, briefed. There will have been something to hook him. And perhaps she appeared to be non-German. Danish, even. Just to get him off his guard.’

‘But we don’t know where he went for lunch.’

Fabel looked as if he had just got a small static shock. ‘The toy!’

‘What toy?’

‘We found a toy, one of these Hamburg souvenir teddy bears. It was in his hotel room with the rest of his stuff.’ Fabel shook his head impatiently. ‘Hold on a minute.’ He hit the button on his car phone and again got through to the Murder Commission. He asked to speak to Anna Wolff.

‘Anna, I’m going to ask you to do something and it’s going to sound trivial. Believe me, it’s not. Do you remember that teddy bear found at the Jespersen scene? It should be in the evidence locker.’

‘It should,’ said Anna, ‘but it’s not. It’s on my desk. I’ve named him Captain Cutie.’

‘For God’s sake, Anna, that’s evidence. You can’t just…’ Fabel drew a breath. ‘Forget it. Just read the manufacturer’s label and get in touch with them. I want to know who they distribute to in Hamburg. Make it within a three-kilometre radius of Jespersen’s hotel. Like I say, Anna, this is urgent. And important.’

‘I think I can manage it,’ said Anna flatly.

Fabel hung up and turned to Vestergaard. ‘If we locate the outlet, then they might have security cameras. Or they might be in a mall with CCTV. And that means we may be able to get a look at Jespersen’s killer.’