In the Swamp of Death

By Angelika Friedemann

To get enemies, it is not necessary to declare war. It is enough to simply say what you think.
Martin Luther King
A dead Turkish young man is found. Three days later, the police find another dead man in the same place, among flowers, candles, photos, condolences. Now the two cases come to the State Criminal Police Office. Martin Kuhlmann and his colleagues once again become acquainted with the radical right-wing scene. They quickly discover that the brown swamp extends even into the upper circles. When they even discover a policeman in various photos, even the judicial authorities realise how widespread the right-wingers are, disguised as cleaners, how cleverly they instrumentalise political positions of the social centre for their own purposes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angelika Friedemann
• Release date: Dec 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215375228

Angelika Friedemann

Die Autorin: Wenn die Menschen nur über das sprächen, was sie begreifen, dann würde es sehr still auf der Welt sein. Albert Einstein Ich versuche, die Aufmerksamkeit der Leser zu fesseln, sie zu unterhalten und zu erfreuen, möglicherweise zu erregen oder tief zu bewegen.

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Der Sumpf des Todes

Angelika Friedemann

The swamp of death

Published by Kevin Friedemann at Smashwords.

Copyright 2023

Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author, Angelika Friedemann

Picture source: piqs.de., Photografer: HafenCity1

Chapter Monday

The First Chief Inspector and head of Department 41, Capital Crimes at the Hamburg State Criminal Police Office, entered his office. A not too small, bright room. Two shelves were built into an alcove, which he had painted pastel lime green, and a refrigerator stood underneath. Two coffee machines were enthroned on the first shelf. He started one of them, which immediately ground the beans loudly. Now he greeted the police bear, a gift from his colleagues, who was perched on one of the armchairs. Hi Pieter!

He poured coffee into his pot, sat down at the desk made of light wood and, drinking his coffee, looked at the picture: Swans on the Alster by Arthur Illies. Like every morning, it conveyed peace, tranquillity and beauty.

Now his working day began, with signing letters. Each one went into a basket. The three colours marked where it went afterwards. The typist would empty them later and forward them. At the moment, Katja did this, as a new typist only arrived on 1 August.

Now brew new coffee, take the cup over with you.

He entered the meeting room and examined his team. Chief Inspector Benjamin Wurt, Chief Inspector Sven Hauser, Chief Inspector Uwe Siegel, Detective Inspector Katja Hempel, Chief Inspector Bircan Weimann, Chief Inspector and his deputy Gerd Reinicke and the young newcomer, Detective Inspector Ralf Bergmann. Frode Löbert would join them later. Detective Inspector Thekla Hennig was currently absent due to illness.

Hello, everyone, he said, taking a seat. "The new colleague, Chief Inspector Frode Löbert, is arriving today.

Where is he from?

From LKA 24, SK from the tower, Katja. For private reasons he had to stop there. Topic finished! No questions will be asked of the newcomer. Gerd and Bircan you take care of him, integrate him. At 1.30 pm we all go to the shooting range. We drive together in two cars. Gerd and I will give you a lift. How far along are you with the blackmail?

Nothing! I must have watched thirty hours of video footage from all the markets. None of the employees noticed anything. The employees themselves, all blank slates, also in their environment, the families no one criminal. Among those who left, no one suspicious either. The voice of the blackmailer is still being worked on, as totally consumed, as Klaas said. So far he's guessing a man over 40. We're waiting for the finished tape. After that we will release it to the public, Uwe explained.

No more unknowns on the list?

Bircan just shook his head. We even tracked down almost all the customers from those days, questioned them, screened them. Negative, as Uwe just said. All those who paid by card, through as well.

Cleaning staff?

There, too, I looked at all the recordings, just as the women and their surroundings were checked. Nothing!

Nevertheless, the extortionist managed to poison food in seven markets and one elderly lady died as a result.

Martin, look at the footage. Not one customer has been to another market. We went back for three days. Unsuccessfully, Uwe immediately.

Bring me the tapes from the previous day from all seven markets. Thank you! Katja, what about this scam?

All we have is a sketch of the woman and the end.

Internet?

I was, Bircan spoke up. All wrong! Photo, name, address and so on. She should now be removed by the provider. She had over a hundred male contacts, if she's still cashing in on the rest there, bravo.

Did you warn the men?

"Some, because you first have to find out what the guys' real names are, where they live. One of them told me that I was jealous and that I wanted to make the lady look bad.

Dusseliger Dösbaddel! Keep searching, because we don't want any more dead people or empty villas. Only you should still keep this woman listed there, as possibly a better help that way. Gerd, you take care of it. Sven, you keep working on Dürr. The boy must be found. I still think he's alive. Ralf, you finish off Lehmann and bring me everything. That's it.

Martin, he's dead and he threw it somewhere.

Katja, since you know everything, you lead us there.

Logic, she replied piqued.

You are always ahead with your mouth, you know and can do everything. Yet you are lazy, you can't do the simplest things. HE murders three people and takes a corpse with him. Logic!

In his office he set up the second monitor, plugged it in, and Uwe was already bringing him the box with the surveillance tapes. Thank you!

He pushed in two tapes and looked. Women!

He only interrupted when the new colleague appeared. He knew the officer, even if only slightly.

Martin, do I have to tell?

No! When the dust has settled and you feel like talking about it, then do what you think. Katja and Uwe will certainly ask you. Overhear it or tell them quite clearly, it's my private business. How is your nipper?

He is too small to notice. He already knows that mummy is missing, but gradually he is getting used to it. My parents distract him. Little children forget very quickly and I'm glad about that. I don't want him to suffer because of it. Everything still reminds me of her. I wake up in the morning, feel for her. I go shopping, pack her favourite juice. It's like that all the time. For the time being, all photos of Britta have also been removed from our place.

Frode, if there's anything you need free or out of order, let me or Gerd know. He's the only one who knows, by the way. You don't have night or weekend duty for the next three months.

Martin rose and they went to the front, where he introduced the new colleague.

Now he continued his work.

There was a knock and the detective director came in. Good morning, Mr Kuhlmann. You're about to get a job.

Martin stood up, extended his hand to his boss. Take a seat. Would you like a coffee, Doctor Jahn?

Starken, please. He sat down, took the bear down. Well, Pünni, are you all right?

Pünni you call him? grinned Martin.

My grandsons. Everyone has one and they are Pünni one and two.

With me, his name is Pieter. Only he's lazy, leaves all the office stuff to me.

They both smiled. Martin handed him the coffee, sat down. What's up?

Eight rapes. Nothing has happened for two months, as far as we know, but the perpetrator is, in my opinion, a ticking time bomb. He first appeared in October last year with a nurse. As I said, since then there have been seven more cases in which he has been steadily more brutal. The last victim was lucky to escape with her life, as he inflicted several stab wounds on her. DNA available, only we can't really do anything with it as he is a blank slate.

A police officer came in and Martin pointed to the side where he should put the three boxes.

Read the files, then we'll talk about it again. The man must be stopped.

Only at noon did he take out the files and sort them by date. Now it was time to read and watch films. He pushed the desk chair more comfortably, tilted the back slightly and began to read the first case. If a man walked through the picture, he looked more closely, just as if a person stood at a shelf for a longer time.

Chapter Tuesday

Martin turned in bed, growling slightly, when he felt Kristin's hand on his bare back.

Telephone, he heard her say.

I'm not here, he mumbled sleepily, but at the same time reached out his hand and she handed it to him. Kuhlmann! Why always me? Ben's on duty. Shit, I just went to bed, he stretched his legs out. Yeah, I'm coming. In half an hour.

Shall I make you a coffee?

Double espresso. Thank you! he stood up. He slipped into his jeans, fetched a shirt from the cupboard. Only now did he glance at the alarm clock. 3.55 am. Couldn't bodies only be found after 7.00, he thought on his way to the bathroom.

It smelled like coffee downstairs.

Thank you! Lie down and sleep for at least a few more hours, he took her in his arms and gave her a kiss.

Now I'm awake. I'm going to my flat.

Kristin, move here already, then you'll save the driving. He took the coffee mug, drank. I'll come early tonight. I promise.

These two professions do not go together.

I know, for that we both, he tried to joke. Let's talk in the evening, he went into his office, taking the gun out of the drawer. He was in a bad mood because he hated boring discussions about relationship stuff in the middle of the night. Such things were discussed quietly at normal times. He drank the rest of the coffee, gave her a quick kiss and drove to the address in Einsbüttel.

There were three police cars and numerous onlookers in front of the house. In the middle of the night. I would rather sleep. Martin added the car.

Third floor! said a young police officer.

Martin, wait, he heard Ben's voice in the back.

Howdy, you're here in no time.

Do you know more?

A prostitute who was found dead by another colleague. Why they called us now, I don't know. I'm tired because I was sitting over the files until midnight.

A police officer stopped them. Chief Inspector Benjamin Wurt showed his identity card. LKA!

No one requested them, no one registered them.

Fine! Now we're here and going up, he pushed the man aside, but he held him. You wait, since I am asking. Why do such high gentlemen show up here?

Because we wanted to test how well you do your job. Now we go up and you make a phone call, announce us. There's no need for red carpet. Thank you!, Martin freed himself with a jerk and jumped up the stairs taking two steps at a time. Very dutiful! he muttered as he did so. Next time you'll get the name. We need people like that in our building sometimes.

Got his badge number.

Moin, what's there to see?, Martin asked some people in pyjamas, nightgowns, bath or dressing gowns. You all live in the house?

Someone was murdered there. A woman screamed us awake, an elderly lady explained.

Now you want to see the dead woman. Maybe the coroner will take her for an autopsy, Martin shook his head. Leave the stairwell immediately, go to the flats. They will all be questioned later.

In front of the flat door, they met two men from the forensics department. Howdy! Has there been a break-in, Klaas?

Hi! Nothing to see. What are you doing here?

Doc's got a hankering for us.

They went into the flat. It smelled somehow sweetish and the air was stuffy.

"Hello, LKA, Kuhlmann, my colleague Wurt. Hello, Frank.

There you are at last. Come here and look at them, Martin.

The two officers stepped aside a little because the bedroom was very narrow.

Dead, painted, ten hours, and? he stated briefly. Must have looked pretty. He put on a glove, lifted his left arm. Looks like suicide. He glanced around. Was she lying like this?

Yes!

Snaksh! Then where's the blood?

See, I knew it. No one here noticed.

Ben pushed past him, looking at her. She looks like something out of that movie. Something about murderous. The women had similar make-up. Gaudy lips, eyes painted like that.

Were they missing blood too?

Yes! That's why it came to me, Frank. Game! Murderous game.

Do you know who the perpetrator is, the one officer expressed with amusement.

I'd rather shut up if I don't notice that there's no blood here, Martin caned the man. Who is she?

Susanne Binter, 23 years old, prostitute, single, apparently lived here alone.

Martin looked at the medical examiner Frank Mahlow. What are we supposed to do here now? There are two apparently very competent investigators standing there.

You're joking today. Exactly six weeks ago we already had a woman like that lying with us. Lukas sent me pictures for you, he held the mobile phone out to him. He took it and looked at the pictures. Where was she?

Bergedorf! Hannah Scheffler, 22 years old, art student, single, also lived alone. About three weeks ago there was another victim. Dorothea Stadler, 39, gallery owner from Munich. She was in Hamburg for a few days. The landlady found her dead in the morning.

That means three different departments? inquired Ben.

That's right. For this to stop, you will have to take over now.

Why didn't Fabian discover and report this much earlier?

Martin, not at my place. There's nothing to discover.

Was there a prosecutor here?, Martin turned to the two colleagues.

I personally rang the chief prosecutor out of bed. Why the hell should I give up sleep? replied Frank Mahlow.

Martin reached for his mobile phone and left the room.

He came back after five minutes. You can go to sleep. The senior public prosecutor will be arriving shortly. The LKA will take care of everything else. Thank you and good night. Ben, the stairwell is being cleared until C.S.U. is finished with it. I want two officers outside to make sure no one goes in or out. Take this eager colleague. Write down the names of the gawpers and get their shoes. They will all be examined for traces. Bernd accompanies you. Where is the woman who found them?

In the living room. Colleague and neighbour, Klaas explained.

Must she wait a moment. First the dead woman. Frank, when and how long?

Dead estimated between 3pm and 6pm. How long? By two hours.

Why so long?

Layman. First only one vein, albeit deep, due to the aorta. Took him too long and he snipped as he wanted to go home. Exitus.

That's when the killer was in the flat for so long?

Yes, reckon from three to five hours. Assuming there was sex beforehand, he swatted away the blanket.

He looked at the thighs, the legs. There she had to suffer for a long time until she had gone through the haemorrhagic shock, finally lost consciousness. Was she tied up?

Yes. So he comes here. According to the colleague, she never purchased here. She opened, he went in. He tied her legs very tightly, you can tell by the welts that cut into the flesh. He pinched, bit, looking at the thighs and pubic bone. Can't have been much longer than three hours before she died, after the formation of all the features. He eventually gets in the mood, cuts the rope and has sex with her. Then the bumbling cut. With the volume of a healthy adult human of five to six litres of blood, that takes time. The loss of 1.5 litres leads to feelings of thirst and weakness, breathing accelerates, the victim feels fear. He probably satisfied himself again during this time and she had to watch. Then the right cut and now everything happened quickly. She gets dizzy, she loses consciousness, due to this the massive reduction of the cardiac output, the circulation collapses. That's the general idea.

Was it the same with the other women?

Yes. Only there he hit the right spot right away. There is no DNA from him.

Like nothing?

Nothing! Lukas said he was dressed in a diving suit. There was just a slit in the front so his best bit could come out.

Only he would stand out on the street, Martin grinned. Had he cleaned? Joking aside. There's sperm?

According to the colleagues at Spusi - no. So the cleaning. Still, no fingerprint, no hair, no sperm, not even ascertainable where he picked up the blood, disposed of it.

Frank, how does it work, except with a diving suit? Was there Fabian on the other ... He fell silent when he saw the doctor's puckered expression. That's what I was wondering. That gallery owner was very hairy in the pubic area. Lots of hair, long hair, shaggy, hard hair. Now we're getting down to the nitty gritty. There should theoretically be at least one hair of his caught on her. Nothing.

Was he well shaved, Klaas came in. There are no fingerprints of a man here. Living room, kitchen. Nothing on the door, no smudges either. Doorbell nothing, downstairs or upstairs. So he used condoms?

None of it detectable so far, but it still needs to be investigated.

Can't, unless he orgasmed outside or in his diving suit. Then why rape him?

Martin, wait for the results.

Good morning, gentlemen, Reinhard Strake entered the room.

Moin, Herr Oberstaatsanwalt.

He looked briefly at the naked woman. Where is her blood?

Did he take it with him or dispose of it well.

You are a joker, Doctor Mahlow. Was that also the case with the other cases you mentioned?

Yes, not a drop did he leave behind.

That painting on the face?

No, that distinguishes the victims. Maybe she painted them that way. The same is the way before the rape, the bites, the pinches. What is different is that this time there are two cuts. The aorta was cut later. Probably another pocket knife.

You mean it could be he goes more into torturing the women afterwards?

He was either off his game or as you described it, he's going to delay death. He may yet have an orgasm. Martin, what's wrong? You look so thoughtful.

Yesterday I received eight files on raped women from Doctor Jahn. There, too, a pocket knife was the weapon and he became more brutal with each act.

Can't be proved without DNA. Do you have any?

Yes. Only it's no use to us if he doesn't leave anything here.

Doctor Mahlow, even with a condom you should be able to find something.

Nothing so far, Mr. Attorney General. Hence our theory of a diving suit. He flipped the blanket over the dead woman.

Am I crazy. He had a date with the women. They have a drink, snack. He goes into the bathroom, puts on the diving suit. Before she can say anything about it, scream, he holds the knife to her neck. Rape. He says, you stay down. Now he gets a bucket, cut. He dumps the blood into the toilet, cleans up any traces, like a glass, changes and leaves.

Martin, well combined. Only the cleaning bucket is in the kitchen under the sink, it's dry. But it still got bagged. People usually lose hair when they change.

Is he bald? Did he put a foil, a towel under it, what he takes? Klaas, I'm speculating, trying to put this together. If I think about it for a long time, I'm sure I'll come up with something else.

All right. Let's wait for the evaluation from the colleagues. Mr Kuhlmann, I will send you the files later. Please talk to the neighbours and see if they noticed anything.

Next door is still the friend who found her.

With her, too.

The dead woman was picked up, the senior prosecutor and Frank said goodbye. He went to the woman, introduced himself, took a seat opposite her. You are a friend, found the dead woman. Can I see your ID please.

Who does that? She looks quite strange. I've never seen a dead person before, she rummaged in her pocket, pulled the ID card out of her purse.

Silke Weber, 23 years old, lived two house numbers away from here, he noted down their details.

Ms Weber, please tell me when you came, what you found.

She didn't show up today, didn't answer the phone. That's why I went here. The door was only ajar. I called softly, went in. First I turned on the light in the hallway, then I looked into the bedroom and saw her lying there. At first I thought she was asleep. I turned on the light and saw how strange she looked. I screamed. A man came and called the police. A woman gave me a drink.

When did Mrs Binter's service begin?

At six. She didn't come and I called but she didn't answer. I tried to reach her again and again all evening.

He looked around the room, but there was no mobile phone.

Give me the number, please, he pulled his mobile phone out of his pocket, typed in the numbers and a music sounded in the hallway. That's it.

Ms Weber, when were you here approximately?

I left at about a quarter to three. It must have been around three. I don't know.

The door downstairs was open?

It always is. This one was just ajar. I thought that was funny.

Did Mrs Binter also receive customers here?

No, never. No one here knows what she did for a living either.

She was heavily made up. Did she go to work like that?

No, I was surprised. We put on make-up there, change our clothes there. It's just that we never paint ourselves so strangely. Sana took mascara and lipstick. Done.

Did Ms Binder mention that she had been followed by a man, that she had been privately harassed about it?

No, nothing.

Did she have a boyfriend or ex-boyfriend?

No.

Ben came in, greeted.

My colleague, Mr Wurt, Martin introduced. Mrs Weber. She found the dead woman. Ms Weber, do you have any idea who could have done this?

No. That must be a sick person.

Please give my colleague the address where you and Mrs Binder work. Was there ever any trouble with men there?

The usual. Drunks talking rubbish to us, but nothing else. You pay attention to that.

Very nice, he stood up. Did you notice anything missing here?

No! As you can see, there are no valuables there, except for the TV she just bought the other day.

Thank you! If you think of anything else, please call us. You can go.

He left the room, put on gloves and took the mobile phone out of his handbag. He checked the incoming calls. Ms Weber had called nine times, no one else. Now he checked the handbag. Money, bank card were there. Theft could be ruled out. He looked in the kitchen, the bathroom, where Bernd had just been.

Discovered something?

Nothing. Hair of her; sink doesn't look cleaned; towels present; not overly damp; toilet brush dry; toilet clean; shower all dry. No blood anywhere - not a drop.

He's not taking that, is he?

Maybe so. After all, we're not finished yet.

All right. We'll go and interview the tenants now.

They're happy when you don't let them sleep.

Klaas, since they could all gawk, they're awake anyway.

No, no one knew if there was a stranger in the house. No, no one had noticed the flat door was only ajar, no one had heard anything. No, no one had seen a man leave the house.

Everyone described the dead woman in the same way: nice woman, friendly, polite, helpful. A quiet tenant without parties, male acquaintances and so on. Nobody knew what that meant. The woman who shouted earlier was often at her place, no one else really. She always worked in a hospital at night. No, she had never said that, but only there were these night nurses. That was called logic, Martin was amused.

In the stairwell, Martin illuminated every step, but not a drop of blood anywhere. Outside too - nothing.

In the office he brewed two coffees, handed a cup to Ben, who had already put the cake on the plates. Now they were going to have breakfast.

The cake is still warm and that's at 6.00am.

It tastes better. Now the case was shelved for ten minutes.

You will ask the people from across the street and the other houses later, ask in the three shops. With whom?

The new guy! Martin, what do I do with blood?

You think he took it?

Yes!

I don't think so. Imagine this scenario. The man rang his victim's doorbell. She opens, sees him standing there with a backpack and a bucket. After the crime, he leaves the flat with a bucket full of blood, in broad daylight. What if someone sees him? It's all my imagination because I can't figure out what he's doing with it. Dump it? Only then why not keep it in the flat? Keep it? For what? Blood stinks.

A sick man playing vampire, see the bites.

Vampires don't drink old, stale, foul-smelling blood. Was that in the thriller?

No, he poured the stuff down the toilet. He got excited when it ran out slowly. And he went down on them several times. The guy only painted the women after they were dead. So no parallels.

Too bad. Would have been easier. When was the film on?

A few months ago.

Get it for us anyway.

The colleagues were already sitting in the meeting room when he entered the room with some files.

There is a lot of work to do. I'll start with the documents that Doctor Jahn gave us yesterday. Rapes. There are eight since October, he pushed the stack into the middle except for three binders.

"The first victim Sophia Helmer, 32, nurse. She was not raped, but only groped. The perpetrator gave it to himself in the process, then she was supposed to give it to him orally. She was able to free herself, ran away, calling him a perverted pig, filed a complaint.

Barely four weeks later, November. Carla Sieger, 22, student, was raped. He had followed her for a while, only because there were people everywhere, he couldn't hit her. She goes into the house where a friend was staying. He followed her, embraced her from behind, his hand on her mouth, forced her into the cellar and raped her orally.

January - Petra Globe, 29, saleswoman. She gets hit in the car park of the supermarket where she works. Her colleagues drove away. No one saw the man before. He opened the door while she had already started the car. He raped her orally and vaginally.

February. Monika Wagner, 38, clerk. She came home from going to the cinema, separated from two friends, a few metres from the front door. The man was waiting behind bushes surrounding the apartment blocks, she claimed. Rape vaginally and orally.

Only one week later. Katrin Allert, 19, student. She walks the last few metres from the disco through a small green area on Friday evening. The perpetrator used a pocket knife for the first time and held it to her neck. Oral sex followed. As she plays in the handball team, she defended herself, screamed, hit his knee between her legs when he tried to rape her again vaginally. She managed to escape screaming. There is an elderly couple who heard this, saw the man running away while she shouted to the girl to come in. The man called the police, the lady made her hot cocoa.

March. Anke Schulz, 28, a florist, was coming home from a visit to the theatre. The girlfriend dropped her off almost in front of the house, turned around, drove off. The husband looked out of the upstairs window, waved. The guy gets her, grabs her at the front door. Knife to her neck, he dragged her backwards, raped her orally. Husband finds her two, three minutes later, looking for her because she didn't come upstairs. At first he thought she was snacking again with Mrs. Mewer, who lives on the ground floor. According to witnesses, the haunting lasted no more than eight to ten minutes.

Two weeks later. Barbara Schmitt, 25, student. This time the park. She was only discovered completely apathetic by a patrol who were patrolling there around midnight. She's probably still in psychiatric treatment, interrupted her studies. Raped twice orally and once vaginally in between.

The last case in April. Mia Seefeld, 17, schoolgirl. She was on the phone with the friend she had just broken up with. She was sitting in the underground, heard her scream and called the police. They arrived on the scene about seven or eight minutes later, found her in the bushes. She is badly injured because he stabbed her several times after the rape, including in the neck. Conjecture that she may have bitten him. She does not remember. All the women said in unison, no, he did not use condoms during oral sex, not even during vaginal sex. They found his DNA on all the victims, therefore known, it's the same perpetrator. No, he does not exist in the database.

There are descriptions of all the perpetrators. They only differ in two points. In the case of two women, he is a foreigner with dark hair. The other women say he is German with dark blond hair. He is between 175 and 180, slim, short hair, big nose. Everyone noticed it, even the foreigners. He is a smoker because he stank of smoke. Left-handed, wears a tattoo on the back of his hand, or in case anyone doesn't understand, Uwe, the surface of his hand. What, nobody knows. The nurse testified it looked like the end of a snake or reptile. Clothing: Jeans, white trainers with three stripes in a neon green. Dark jacket made of smooth material. Again, Ms Helmer's statement: Do you know those bomber jackets that the weirdos used to wear? That's what it looked like. Ms Helmer and the elderly couple testified that he was carrying a dark rucksack with something white on it. The nurse heard a car drive away shortly afterwards, but before that a sound when he opened it. The couple said something similar. First it made