The Leopard Hunts in the Dark

By Angelika Friedemann

It will not occur to any sensible person to want to wash away ink stains with ink, oil stains with oil. Only blood should always be washed away with blood. Bertha von Suttner
Martin Kuhlmann finds an Advent calendar on his desk in the morning. He puts it to one side, thinking it's a silly joke because he doesn't like chocolate. A new murder case distracts him. The shipowner asks the first chief inspector of the Hamburg LKA to investigate. His only daughter has just been found dead by him.
He hands the Advent calendar back to his colleagues. A few seconds later, the colleagues are standing pale in his office: behind doors one to four there is no sweet surprise, as expected, but a photo of a woman. The fourth is the picture of the murdered shipowner's daughter from Blankenese. They hurriedly remove the cardboard. Horrified, they stare at the faceless heads of female persons, as can be seen from the hair. Now a race against time begins for the team.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angelika Friedemann
• Release date: Dec 5, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215402375

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.

Book preview

Angelika Friedemann

The leopard hunts in the dark

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: AL40

Chapter Tuesday

Like every morning, he stopped at a newsstand, picked up the daily papers, snapped a quick chat with the elderly lady he had known for fifteen years. On the way to his car he read the headline: Murder of a 44-year-old florist. He looked rather uninterestedly at the photo of the woman, turned the newspaper and skimmed the headlines.

The two large offices were still empty. He entered his domicile. A spacious, bright room. In an alcove next to the door, which he had painted lime green, were two shelves made of beech wood, below them a refrigerator with the coffee machine and two capsule stands on top. On the shelves were cups, glasses, sugar bowl. He took off his jacket, locked his gun in the top drawer, brewed coffee, looked at the cardboard staplers lying on his desk.

Pieter, you could have read, he addressed the police bear, Bünabär, which his colleagues had given him a few months ago and which was sitting on the back of an armchair. A sitting area with four light beige armchairs and a round wooden table.

He sat down, drank, before pushing the pile away and looking up. The corner of something colourful peeked out. He lifted the folders. An Advent calendar. Breesig! It was a bit late, since today was the fourth of December. He carelessly put it aside, opened the file cover, studied the explanation from the Forensic Institute.

On the butcher's knife blood from the wife, the son and ... from the beef. He shook his head. Sometimes they were really too meticulous. Why not from the daughter? Further down the page he found what he was looking for. The girl had been murdered with another knife. A fillet knife. What was a fillet knife? He read the measurements and imagined it when the door opened in front of him.

Chief Inspector Elmar Berg looked into his office. Moin Moin.

Moin Moin.

Did you read, another dead woman.

Just the headline. They sent the information to Fredensen. Two different murder tools were used there. A butcher's knife for her and the junior; a filleting knife for the daughter.

What is a fillet knife?

Like a butcher's knife, but with a narrower, thinner blade. Why two different knives?

The edge wasn't sharp enough anymore, or something.

Moin Moin, came in the chief commissioners Uwe Siegel and Severin Hiller. One by one, all the colleagues arrived.

I'll be right there, he called to the front, quickly finished reading the paper, then leafed through the autopsy report. Well, that was news. Could that have been the motive for the crime?

Hello, he heard Elke and Anita's voices. Automatically he looked at his watch. Too late again.

Martin Kuhlmann, first chief inspector at the Hamburg LKA, Department 41 for capital offences threw the documents back on his desk, reached for a file.

With the cup in his hand, he entered the large office. I've just been going over the Fredensen reports. They found the son had a different producer than the daughter. He wasn't his son, she was his daughter.

Did her husband find out that he had raised a cuckoo child for 19 years, that she had cheated on him at the beginning of the marriage. He's gone crazy, stated detective superintendent Benjamin Wurt, handed detective superintendent Bircan Weimann his coffee pot with the HSV emblem, put down his cup with a smiling yellow smiley, sat down.

Could be. No...

Bircan, where is our coffee?, Elke interrupted him. We're waiting.

Am I your nanny? he grumbled. Lazy women!

I think I'm crazy, Martin said indignantly. You're 23 minutes late, you've been sitting around chatting ever since, you're too comfortable to get coffee? On top of that you have the cheek to interrupt me for that? You women are annoying, lazy, impertinent. The four hours missed in the last few days will be made up this week. That means an extra hour every night. Case...?

Martin, you can't do that because it's Christmas, Elke was indignant.

Silence! In twenty days. Complain to Doctor Seeger, you lazy ... Fredensen case. They were not murdered with identical knives. Mother and son with a butcher's knife, the daughter with a filleting knife.

What is a fillet knife? asked Chief Inspector Sven Hauser.

A long knife like this with a narrow blade. It's used for cutting meat.

Kai, how do you know something like that?

From my wife. I have to help with the cooking, as long as I'm at home, and they say please give me ... Why did he use two different murder tools?

Let's ask him if we find him. It ...

Doctor Winkler, her top boss, came in. Good morning, Mr Kuhlmann. The shipowner Nissen has just found his daughter dead beside her car. He asked me to ask you to take over.

Why me?

Ask him. He handed him a piece of paper. The address. My secretary informed the senior prosecutor, Doctor Sprengler, Doctor Mahlow.

Bircan, let's go there. Elmar, you read the reports on Fredensen. Uwe, you take care of the four bodies from the Elbe. The rest of you have work to do. A note to Elke and Anita. You get your coffee alone, pay for it properly and finally do the work that has been dragging on for days. I've had enough by now. Nothing has been done. Two weeks of nothing but gossip, stupid sayings.

Problems?

Doctor Winkler, for a fortnight you have already been enjoying Christmas holidays, working nothing, just chatting. They are late every morning. They don't know how to excuse themselves. I have asked the personnel office to transfer you because you are not only lazy, but also cheeky, insolent and abusive towards colleagues. Since Friday we have been waiting for three tapes for them to type. Nothing happens. Friday I briefly went to the neighbouring department, come back, I find out they left early. Not like that! When I come back, the tapes are not ready typed, you can report downstairs.

"Mrs Stern, Mrs Theodor, will you get to work immediately or do you think the taxpayer will pay you for doing nothing? That means a thick note in the file. An infamous procedure. If you don't want to do the job, quit. The missing hours will be made up this week. The archives are looking for a new assistant. I'll see to it right away.

It wasn't like that. It's just that at Christmas time there's a lot to do.

Are you saying that Mr Kuhlmann is lying?, now Doctor Winkler threateningly. That will result in another entry.

Martin fetched his jacket, pocketed the gun, his mobile phone, nodded to Bircan. At the same time as the detective director, they left the office, walked down the long corridor, greeted here and there.

Mr Nissen is a friend of mine, that's why he called my office. Sabine is 42, married, has two children. Teenagers. They live together in a large house, but have separate living quarters. Her husband is still in Bergen, but he will be back as soon as possible, as Wilhelm has already informed him. They are all in shock. Fredericke, the mother, has to be treated. She has been asthmatic for years.

Where was she so early in the morning?

As far as I understand it, her car is just outside the gate, she's lying next to it. It must have happened last night. He saw the car when he went to bring in the papers.

Why didn't the paperboy report this before?

Good question, Mr Weimann. Do some research on the spot. I haven't thought of it yet. I'm a little stunned myself.

All right, let's listen to this. You know the husband, Doctor Winkler?

"Yes, Bachelor, has been working in the shipping company since the marriage. He was something of a stroke of luck, Wilhelm called it. Nice, polite guy, is not aloof, works a lot. No, he doesn't inherit anything, even in a divorce he would get nothing. He himself inherited a small fortune from his grandparents. They live a completely normal life. The marriage is also as usual, loving. They have two boys, 14, 16 years old. The 14-year-old aspires to a career as a professional footballer. Jonas, the older one, will probably go into business. He is already showing great interest there. He works there in the holidays and is often taken along by his father when he wants to.

Are there any more children with the Nissens?

The son left about 20 years ago, wanting to discover the world anew. He writes sporadically, but never comes around. They wrote him off with regard to the shipping company. His parents offered him part of his inheritance at some point, but he refused. He didn't need their money. What he lives on and where, no idea. He's never really talked about.

Do you know who gets your share?

No.

Is there anything else in particular?

No. My wife and I have known them all for many years. A happy, down-to-earth, quiet family without scandals. The company is doing well, also thanks to Dietmar's foresight. He always plans for the long term, so he has been able to keep the shipping company plus its side businesses out of all the economic storms. There were no losses, no layoffs, there were or are no low wages. Even in the doldrums of the local economy, they were able to post profits and a small upward trend because they did business with stable states early on.

They said goodbye and drove to Blankenese.

Tell me, these villas are all barricaded and under camera surveillance, certainly have automatic gates. Why does she get out of there first?

Because someone she knows was standing there? Because someone was waving? Because there is a person lying on the side and she wants to give help? Bircan, let's look at ourselves. I'm more concerned right now with why they used two different knives at Fredensen. I kill my wife and my son. Now I go to the kitchen, get another knife from the drawer and use it to cut my daughter's throat? Why? I go crazy for whatever reason, I don't change the instrument of crime in between.

Who knows what was going on inside him? I think that with all these family dramas that you read or hear about, it completely stops at that moment. There's not an ounce of logic left. You think the daughter was murdered before?

Something like that. He comes home, sees the drama and freaks out. I find two knives too inexplicable.

In Blankenese, an elderly man was walking back and forth, slightly bent over. When he saw the car, he stopped and looked towards them.

We are eagerly awaited. The Doc, the Spusi are not yet on site.

Martin parked his SUV a little way ahead and already saw the woman lying there.

Wilhelm Nissen hurried towards them. He was a tall, lean man. His white hair was combed back severely, revealing a broad forehead. His skin looked like grey cement, Martin thought. The blue pupils, on the other hand, reminded him of a glacial lake in Switzerland. His eyes were slightly rimmed with red. His lips narrowed, he held them tightly pressed together. He pushed his wire-rimmed glasses straight back onto his hooked nose.

Hello, Martin Kuhlmann and my colleague Weimann. Mr Nissen?

Wilhelm Nissen. I don't understand. Why Sabine? Why is she different? he croaked strangely. You could literally see that he could not yet comprehend what was happening.

Mr Nissen, you'd best go back into the house, have a coffee or tea, comfort your wife. Do your grandchildren already know?

Yes. You would have seen them if they had gone to school.

We'll take a look at it and then come to you because we have some questions. Perhaps you can answer them for us, despite the pain. Do you or your spouse need a doctor?

Her attending physician will be here in a moment. She is asthmatic, you know.

With more good words, Martin persuaded him to go into the house.

And? he stepped up to Bircan, eyeing the corpse.

She's probably been dead five to six hours, if not longer. You can't tell anything like that.

She looks kind of surprised. Face not contorted in pain or anything, more friendly, he crouched down. It's a bit under the coat. Get us some gloves, please.

He looked up when he heard a car approaching. Bircan, he's parked behind mine, he called after the employee.

A man got out, took out a suitcase from the back seat.

Martin went to meet him, introduced himself.

I have to treat Mrs Nissen. Doctor Leberecht. What happened?

The daughter was found motionless earlier. Please go to the side of the gate.

What's wrong with her?

Take care of Mrs Nissen. We'll do the rest.

The man looked at the dead woman and hurried on towards the house.

Martin put on gloves, lifted his coat a little with his biros.

A stuffed animal?

Looks like a leopard, Martin observed, looking at his colleague. Bircan's face contorted in a strange way. What's wrong?

The deceased from Barmbek, whom they found yesterday, had a leopard or cheetah lying with her, the newspaper said today.

We'll put that aside for the time being. Just don't. Read it later, please. If it was also a beast like that, something is brewing. She's still wearing the jewellery, he pointed to two rings, the wedding ring and a watch. The cousin is coming.

They strolled towards the men and women. Hello, Fabian. You're coming yourself?

The staff have to work. Today the sun is shining, it's supposed to be spring-like warm, so I said to myself, I'll go in search of clues.

They laughed.

What happened? Your boss called me in personally.

Murdered daughter of a shipowner. She is lying almost next to her car. First, please close off the road. The noble residents either drive differently or wait.

Doctor Fabian Sprengler gave instructions to his staff, went with the two criminalists to the dead woman, assessed her.

Looks like she's sleeping. What's that peeking out from under the jacket?

A stuffed leopard.

She wears fur coats or jackets made of leopard fur - that's why Exitus.

Funny.

Klaas, you may take pictures. I'll take the vehicle.

Doctor Mahlow parked his car in front, waved one of the men over, spoke to him. He came closer with a limp.

Hi, Frank. What have you been up to?

Jumping rope. I told them before, I'm too old for that. No, grandpa, you have to. Twisted an ankle - pulled a muscle. I sat dutifully at my desk, but don't you begrudge me. Why do I have to come myself?

Shipowner's daughter.

Dead is dead, whether president or unemployed. They just get a nicer coffin and more flowers. It's enough if i cut them personally. Does Dr Winkler know you?

Friendly.

Why is it so far away?

Frank, we wanted to annoy you, we had them specially murdered there.

I thought so. How?

Nothing recognisable. She's lying there like that. No blood.

Hi, Klaas. Ready?

Yes, you can go wild. Let me know when you shoot it. I'll clear the tyre tracks on the path before we take prints. I bagged the cattle.

A critter? The medic slipped on gloves, pulled the case closer.

Leopard.

Cute. I like cats of prey, just not in the zoo. I could rip the bars off there so they're free. He pushed up the dead woman's eyelids as he did so, shining a torch into them. It's despicable how you cage these animals just because Spezi Mensch wants to gawk. Ban it, and ban it worldwide. Now it was the turn of the mouth.

Strangled or suffocated. Possibly both. The mouth, on the other hand, doesn't look like it. Look at the tongue. It's all normal and looks like it. In South America they've already banned some zoos, closed them down. Young animals have been transported to Africa or elsewhere. There they are prepared for the wild. They should introduce them here, too. She probably didn't take any sleeping pills. That's why you lie down comfortably in bed.

You can't see anything on the neck.

Martin, did he use a soft scarf so that her delicate skin wouldn't suffer. Still, it's strange, he murmured more quietly. Zoos or the aquariums with dolphins are the purest places of horror.

Martin shook his head, appraised her car from the inside. There was her handbag on the passenger seat. He took it out, looked inside and shook his head again when he saw the stuff. A thousand little things. Anomalous. He picked up the purse, looked at the contents: bank cards, Amex card, ID card, driving licence. The money he counted. 335 euros plus coins. Robbery-murder passé. Now the mobile phone. It was switched on and he typed. Oh dear, countless names.

Bircan, please bring me a bag for the mobile phone.

Otherwise only bits and pieces in the pocket. The car key was in it.

Martin, she has the remote control for the gate in her coat pocket, the coroner called out to him.

Please try it and see if it works.

Do you have the numbers?

He walked around the car, put the mobile phone in the plastic bag. Bircan handed him another bag and they looked at the small black device. Let's take it inside and ask. Any more?

Handkerchief, probably cotton, unused. Lemon flavoured sweets, a bunch of keys. He put everything in a bag. Klaas, come take a picture. I'll eyeball the back. Bircan, please help me. No more jumping rope, he growled.

Martin and Bircan stifled a grin.

Nothing here either. At least no blood. More after the autopsy. Help me upstairs.

Martin reached out his hand to the doctor and pulled him up. Klaas, please put my suitcase in my car. Thank you. You're brooding a bit, aren't you?

Look at that girl. She's about 180 centimetres. She gets out of the car because she knows the perpetrator, takes two steps towards him and then? He stands in front of her, throws her scarf, she fights back. She looks athletic, not pomaded.

Were there two?

The second one must have been big. In my opinion, the facial expression doesn't match. If someone pulls something tight around my neck, I throw up my hands, try to pull the something away, somehow fight back, losing at least one of the pumps in the process. If the air gets tight, I contort my face, open my mouth, gasp for air, but don't look so relaxed, almost friendly.

Not bad. I can tell you more tomorrow.

They watched as the dead woman was placed in the coffin, the lid closed.

When?

Midnight, give or take an hour. She's being picked up.

Thanks, Frank. Fabian, we're inside if you find anything significant.

Let me know. We'll take the car with us, although your perpetrator probably didn't touch it. We haven't found anything else so far.

No tracks on the side because a car turned around?

Nothing. Everything is stuck there. Just a marker, but it can be there since, he reflected. Been there since Saturday. Friday night was the last time it rained. You don't even see a bit of dirt on the road. Klaas and Anton are searching that. Should we keep it cordoned off?

No, brings nothing but complaints and trouble.

Now they live in such an idyllic place, and yet they are killed. All this before the feast of love.

Fabian, a party that only causes stress weeks before, grumbled Frank Mahlow. Min Lütte keeps asking me what we're going to give him or her. Is that normal, putting on the same circus every year? I have to jump rope so my wife can clean the kitchen because they had baked biscuits.

Everyone laughed, the coroner smirked. Have you baked biscuits with three and five-year-old boys? It sticks everywhere, the flour dusts around. They chow down on the dough before baking, looking like dough themselves, with Christmas music blaring. I wish I'd gone to work.

Once again the four men laughed. Frank, that's just the way it is when you prefer to be a nice grandpa.

Martin, let's talk about this in a few years, you'll see it differently too.

I don't bake biscuits, I don't like them very much. Vicky has to deal with that. When my kids were little, I could get away with it. You wouldn't believe how busy I was then. I'd rather play football with them.

Or jump rope. I'll be in touch, he hobbled the last few metres to his car.

Every child would like to have a grandpa like that, Martin looked after him. He really goes along with all the stupidities. So, now Nissen.

Oh, the public prosecutor is coming too, Bircan's face twisted when he saw Burkhard Hehl. Why him of all people? he murmured to Martin.

He got hold of it quickly because the others were not there yet. Hello, Mr Hehl. The dead woman has already been taken away.

How, when?

Midnight at a guess, probably strangled.

No other information?

I should have told you, smirked Martin, who also disliked the prosecutor. An arrogant monkey, in his eyes. He tried to stand out with his expensive clothes, his Gucci shoes and his Rolex. As a prosecutor, rather a loser. He suspects that he knew he would never be above mediocrity and tried to make up for it with a smug demeanour.

I see the Turkish colleague is with us.

He is German like you and even if he is. Are you prejudiced or racist that you make stupid remarks about it every time? You'll excuse us because we have to work.

Mr Kuhlmann, be a little more careful with your statements.

Certainly not. Refrain from talking stupidly to my staff.

"You will behave politely.

Mr. Prosecutor, spare me the drivel. I can behave myself, I am not xenophobic, because I come from a good home, as you always so disparagingly call it. It's a pity that some people didn't enjoy something like that, like Mr Weimann and me. You learn a lot there, such as tolerance, good manners, decency, foreign languages and a lot more. We have to. Have a nice day. Bircan, let's go.

They entered the property, looked around. The lawn was neatly manicured, otherwise rather unimaginatively planted. At this time of year, it looked even more desolate than in summer, when at least everything was green.

My wife would immediately plant flowering perennials en masse.

Me ditto. Boring. They should really do more with such a huge estate. A secluded spot with lots of greenery, flowerbeds, shrubs.

You said it. I'm just wondering how they would react if we took the shorter route across the fancy English lawn now.

Bircan grinned. The gardener will have to do it right away. I wonder if you were allowed to play football on it as a child?

It doesn't look like it. There would be a stalk standing at an angle. I find something like that creepy, although I used to grumble part of the time when my son and his friends made a field out of our lawn.

It'll grow back.

That's what Vicky used to say. Look, not a tiny bit of green to be seen between the stones.

Not a blade of grass dares. I find this kind of thing very convenient.

Me ditto. We are being watched, the door opened to us before.

Oh man, was she standing there all this time waiting for us?

I suppose that's what you do when visitors come. Oh, how exhausting if they have to ring the doorbell, Martin grumbled.

An elderly lady led them into a huge living room where individual antiques immediately caught Martin's attention. Wilhelm Nissen approached them, pointing to a light beige living room landscape.

Ask your questions.

Where was your daughter last night, Mr Nissen?

With two couples who are friends for the premiere of a play. A long-term planned event.

That means your son-in-law originally wanted to accompany his wife?

No, Mr Kuhlmann. She only got him to such events once a year at the most. He's more of a musical and opera lover. At the theatre he always falls asleep, calls it ... called it Sabine.

Who knew all about it?

Lots of people, as my daughter has been supporting the theatre as a patron for years.

How often did your daughter go to the theatre?

He reflected. Ten to fourteen times a year. Less in the summer months. Otherwise it depended on the plays.

Do your daughter, son-in-law or you have any enemies, anyone who threatened you?

Competitors, but not enemies in that sense. No, we were never threatened. If it was someone from the business environment, my son-in-law would have been targeted, but not Sabine. She had little to do with the shipping company, she worked there, but more in an administrative capacity. Her departure will not cause any losses for the shipping company, nor will anything shake.

Mr. Nissen, who will inherit your daughter's fortune now?

She didn't own any assets in that sense. That would only have passed to her in part after my death.

Now what?

The old man sighed. My will remains as it is, only Sabine's inheritance will be transferred to my two grandsons, Mr Kuhlmann.

Not the husband?

No. There are clear agreements between him and me. He never wanted to inherit anything, but has held a 49 per cent stake in the shipping company for many years. I hold the rest. Dietmar was never concerned about our money, because he doesn't exactly come from a poor background. The shares were gradually increased. He worked hard for them. Everything was agreed with my daughter. Dietmar gets eighty per cent, my grandchildren ten each. The money for my grandchildren is administered by my lawyer as trustee. If there is a divorce, it will stay that way. If my son-in-law dies, his shares pass equally to my grandchildren. He could never transfer these to other persons or children. That's the general idea. There are many little things about this. This was already established shortly after the marriage, only changed with the children. Dietmar does not benefit in any way from their death. My private assets are not as high as one might suspect. The biggest assets are the land and the house. My two grandchildren will receive it after my death. My wife, my daughter and Dietmar, however, have life-long residential rights, if there is no divorce. Sabine and Dietmar in the entire upper floor, as they do now. My lawyer worked through all the points in detail, because there is this clause with the compulsory portion. It can be set aside under certain conditions.

What about your son?

No, Mr. Kuhlmann, he never wanted anything, but there is a certain amount of money in an account for him. He would never inherit. He would never have access to the shipping company.

Mr. Nissen, what happens if, assuming, your son-in-law also dies?

He looked at Bircan. Then my grandchildren inherit everything, including your father's assets. These last dispositions were agreed upon in advance by the three of us.

I understood that. Just suppose their son-in-law dies and they are no longer able to run the shipping company due to illness. The grandchildren are still too young for that. Who then controls, for example, where profits go or whether parts of the company are sold?

Mr. Weimann, your line of thought is good, but provision has been made there as well. There are four independent persons. In general, nothing may be sold. The profits stay in the company and everything is controlled independently, as I said. Only two of the trustees and controllers know each other. The other two gentlemen have nothing to do with the company in any way.

Is your daughter getting out to open the gate?

No there too. The remote controls work even when all the doors and windows are closed.

Do you know the code from your daughter?

6820. What do you need it for, Mr Weimann?

To see if the device was working. There must have been a reason why she got out.

That is correct. I haven't thought of that yet. Sorry, it hasn't really sunk into my head yet. There can only have been either a good acquaintance, male or female, standing there, or there was ... A person. He sighed slightly. You know, we have already in the childhood days drilled into our children, today into our grandchildren, certain safety measures. Unfortunately, that has to be. Sabine would never have got out for a casual acquaintance, not even a woman. If, contrary to expectations, this remote control doesn't work, you call. Yes, even in the middle of the night. Normally, however, as soon as the battery gets low, a warning light comes on. If someone had been running around outside, calling for help, also phone call. She operated the remote control, as we all do, just before driving towards the gate. That way you can see if someone is lurking to the side. The gate opens quickly and without stopping, you drive onto the property, even before you're completely through, the gate is already closing.

That would mean, Mr Nissen, assuming it is a working device, there are only two possibilities. Good acquaintances or someone lying on the ground. That's where she would get off, especially if there's no car parked anywhere, because she would assume a neighbour.

Exactly. If there was a strange car parked at the side, she would only have made a phone call.

Martin and Bircan looked at each other.

Mr Nissen, we have to ask you this now. Where were you from 11 p.m. to 1 a.m.?

In bed and asleep. No one can confirm this, as my wife was probably also asleep. We went to bed shortly after eleven o'clock, looked in our grandchildren's rooms shortly before. They were asleep. A silly habit, but the boys tend to laugh about it, except when friends are here on Friday or Saturday nights. We only handle it that way if their parents have gone out in the evening, though.

Mr Nissen, have you noticed any little things in the last few days that were not there before? Irrelevant what it was. Walkers who walked a dog because of me. A salesman trying to sell you the miracle cure. Anything.

Not to myself, but I'm rarely there during the day, but at work, especially when Dietmar is away. You'd have to ask our housekeeper.

Did your daughter mention anything like that?

No.

Did your daughter own fur coats?

Excuse me? he looked disturbed at Bircan. No, she and Dietmar are members of Peta. She hated those things. She found it rather pathetic when people adorned themselves with them, even told them so at times. My wife doesn't own one either. This kind of display of wealth was never our style. What makes you think that?

Just so, Martin quickly. Did your daughter have her own room?

Yes, he stood up. I'll take you there.

Mr Nissen, please ask your wife if she has noticed anything. We would also have to talk to the housekeeper and your grandchildren, as well as your son-in-law.

Understandable. When you are finished with the room, come here.

Upstairs he opened a door and left her alone.

Pretty, Bircan observed, putting on gloves.

Yes, there are selected antiques everywhere. You desk, me chest of drawers.

After half an hour they were through, but had found nothing usable.

Downstairs, the two grandchildren were sitting in the living room, coffee and three cups were ready.

Martin introduced Bircan and himself while Wilhelm poured coffee for Nissen, who put the official down.

Both denied having noticed anything unusual: no strangers, no unknown cars, nothing.

Mr Nissen, when does the newspaper carrier appear?

Usually between 5.30 and 6.00. Today, however, he was not there yet.

The housekeeper couple said similar things and they said goodbye. Bircan tried the remote control several times. However, it worked perfectly.

She opens the gate, so the perpetrator must have closed it. What do you think?

Stranger. Bircan, we are just beginning. Maybe he has a mistress and wanted to get rid of the wife without a divorce. It's better for his clean reputation. The son is in Hamburg, hoping to get more money. She had a lover she broke up with and this is his revenge. Maybe he called her a predator. An attempted kidnapping that got out of hand. Revenge for ... Let's go to the bakery and the flower shop. Let's hear what they tell us about the Nissen ladies, then we'll visit the residents of the two neighbouring properties.

At a neighbour's house they found out that the newspaper delivery man had had an accident in the morning, because people had immediately complained because the newspaper was not in the letterbox. The lady of the house was indignant, saying that this was the second time this year and it was outrageous. After all, you pay for it.

Arrogant clan, Bircan observed.

At least she can be ecstatic about how bad everything is. The day would be too boring otherwise. Do some research for the paper, please.

In the office, he brewed coffee, saw the Advent calendar. He took it in his hand and went into the big office. You're sweet, but first of all it's four days late and secondly I still don't like chocolate. Thanks anyway. Hang it up here and open the doors. The noble giver gets the first piece of chocolate.

Everyone just looked at him, no one moved.

What do you mean, not from you?

Where did you get that?

Elmar, he was lying underneath the pile of files.

I left it for you last night, but there was no calendar, Elke Theodor, detective superintendent, reported.

Anyway, a secret admirer slipped it under later, Kai smiled. I opened the first door voluntarily. I love chocolate, he took the calendar from Martin.

Who comes in and out of our offices when no one is there? That's not normal. This admirer doesn't seem to know me, Martin replied laconically, returning to his office. Silly, he muttered.

Let's hang it over the coffee machine, he heard Severin say. I'll take the second door.

What happened at the Nissens'? inquired Elke.

Dead for a few hours.

What have we got to do with it?

Elke, it's called murder.

They saddle us with every piece of crap, she got upset. Christ, it's going to be Christmas soon and we have enough to do as it is. Just because they're rich.

Go slobber on someone else. You should be working, not just snaking with Anita all day, Sven huffed. You two have been hanging out for hours, gossiping.

Stupid guy!

He poured coffee, switched on the computer and entered Sabine Nissen-Scherf's name.

Shit! he heard Kai shout and shook his head. Show me the photos, now Severin.

Sabine Nissen-Scherf, born 1970 in Hamburg. Logistician. Parents Fredericke and Wilhelm Nissen. Married since 1997 to Dietmar Scherf, born 1970 in Hamburg. Bachelor. Two children: Jonas born 1996, Klaas 1998. No entries. Brother: Jörg Nissen, born 1968 Hamburg. End.

Wilhelm Nissen, 1942, graduate engineer, Fredericke Nissen, 1945. Married 1968.

Now the shipping company: family business, nothing special.

Something crackled at the front.

Read the paper later. That's enough. Anita, Elke, bring the minutes here, please, he called. Now the husband.

Let's still type.

Kai stood in the doorway, looking strangely pale. He was holding the advent calendar with two fingers.

Bad?

He came closer and threw it on the table. Four doors were open and inside were the portraits of four women. For today, the picture of Sabine Nissen. Scheun'n Schiet! He opened a drawer, put on gloves, briefly saw the other colleagues standing in the doorway. Are these the women from the newspaper?

Yes.

Bullshit! How do you know that, Bircan?, Elke immediately.

He opened number five and saw a black and white photo inside, which was supposed to be a woman's head. Severin, please call Fabian, tell him to come here immediately, really immediately. In person. It's urgent. Bircan, please ask if I can come to Doctor Winkler or if he can come here. Uwe, the Chief Public Prosecutor himself, not that stupid dandy Hehl.

Somebody was having a joke.

Fine Elke, that you know.

Martin, she's right. Someone is trying to wind you up, Anita smiled artificially.

You two are crazy, Severin observed. Just because you want to leave early every day, that's why you're bitching.

In number six there was a piece of paper written on a computer. He unfolded it: "You are getting younger and younger. Numbers seven, nine, eleven - always the same black and white portrait of a woman. Next to each of the even numbers was a slip of paper with day off on it. He opened each door like this. At number 24 there was a particularly large note: Merry Christmas, The leopard hunts in the dark".

Elmar, I want you to call the departments that have dealt with these women so far. I expect all the documents on the three women on my desk in an hour at the latest. Thank you. Kai, the three bodies must be taken to Doctor Mahlow immediately. I'll call Frank myself. Who touched the calendar?

Only Kai and Severin and of course himself.

Martin, Doctor Winkler will be here in a moment, as he is downstairs right now.

Fabian's coming. If it's not important, he'll lynch you.

Thank you. I suspect we have a bigger problem right now than him lynching me. Severin, Sven, Ben, enter the three women's names and search. The colleagues will help you.

Oh man, it was all in the papers and they're already doing it there.

Elke, that's enough!, Martin in a sharp tone.

Assembly? the deep voice of Doctor Winkler was heard.

This is much more serious than a meeting. Someone put an Advent calendar on my desk. See for yourself what's inside instead of chocolate. Please put on gloves, he held out a package to him."

Woman's picture?

Yes, of four dead women including Mrs Nissen.

Scheun'n Schiet! he cursed as he looked at it. Someone has to bring the files here and the bodies should be examined again more closely by Doctor Mahlow.

Mrs Nissen had a small plush leopard under her jacket. Bircan already mentioned it on the spot that one of the dead was also found to have such a critter, according to the newspaper.

A serial offender who now wants to murder a woman almost every day?

That's what it looks like.

Doctor Winkler, in Bergedorf they refuse to take the files without the necessary paperwork ...

Give it to me, he snatched the phone out of Elmar Berg's hand, immediately blaring. Martin waved the other colleagues out of his office, poured coffee for his superior. Since he was still raging, he went forward. Bircan, find something to go with the saying, the leopard hunts in the dark. Elke, you go in search of small leopards, not cheetahs.

They look the same, don't they?

No, the cheetah has longer legs, is smaller, lighter, hunts in the early morning and most importantly, it has two black stripes on its face. Bircan will give you the approximate measurements. I would guess key pendants or something.

Mr Kuhlmann, you send the documents here immediately. The body will be transferred to Doctor Mahlow with all the trimmings.

Doctor Winkler, from now on no more details should be given to the media. Nothing. These lunatics love it when they read or hear something about themselves every day. We don't give him that pleasure.

As you think, I am issuing the appropriate report. We have to catch this man as soon as possible, otherwise we will have 14 corpses by Christmas.

We are trying. Mr Berg is sitting on the Fredensen case. Three dead there too. Mr Siegel has four unknown dead that the divers discovered.

They are all dead, only the women are still alive. Put that aside a bit. Fredensen, that's that family drama, isn't it?

Yes.

Put out the APB on the husband. The rest can wait. The dead have been lying in the Elbe for months, so a few days won't make any difference.

You tell that to the prosecutors.

Who is it?

At Fredensen - Mr Kehlmann. At the Elbe victims - Mr Hillmer.

I'll sort it out. If there are any problems anywhere, let me know. This is top priority. He took off his gloves, threw them in the wastepaper basket and left.

I have to give Frank a heads up first. Then we'll talk. He was on the phone, looking at the Advent calendar.

Uwe, try to find out if anyone saw who went into or came out of our offices. The fact that a stranger just walks in here without anyone noticing is quite something. Vicky, I'm going to have to cancel our theatre visit. We have new cases. That's the one. Yeah, have fun and say hi. No, let me get something. He had been looking forward to this for days: having a nice evening with his brother, sister-in-law and wife.

He went forward. Elmar and Uwe, you continue your search alone for now. You can't help at the moment. As soon as the files arrive, Kai, Severin and Sven will each take a file. Bircan, you Nissen. We start from scratch. We want to know friends, acquaintances, work colleagues, hairdressers, doctors, nail designers, special shops. Not a word about a serial offender. Anita, Ben, Elke, you help. We have to find out a common denominator, if feasible, and today if possible.

Martin, there is no picture strip, book with such a title or anything like that. Three categories: Predator, tank, a film, computer system, plus ships, cars were called that.

It was worth a try. Speculating on that now would be going too far.

There was a knock and Doctor Fabian Sprengler came in. Hello, where's the fire? I don't mean a small fire, but a wildfire, he growled irritably. We're up to our ears in work and soon the Christmas holidays will start.

You have dactylograms of me, Kai and Severin. Then fingerprints from my desk and from an Advent calendar. You can take it with you. Not important on the outside, but on the inside.

Martin, did you say Advent calendar?

He led him into his office, pointing to the Advent calendar. There it is.

He looked at that one, slipping on his gloves. Something new for a change. Who are the ladies? Your ex?

Not one of them looks like that. Do they have dark hair? Probably wouldn't recognise them in general for as long as it's been. There four dead women.

The one in the paper?

Exactly the three plus our deceased today.

Scheun'n Schiet! Almost a wildfire. I'll take him with me. He ate the chocolate himself. Mean.

That's the least of my problems now. I hope he got a stomach ache.

Everyone knows that a leopard hunts in the darkness. What is he trying to tell us? He is the leopard and kills at night?

Sort of, if that's not ambiguous.

How did you get the calendar?

It was under the pile of files this morning.

What, he walks in here, lays it on you? Brazen!

"That too. We're investigating to see if anyone noticed anything. They must have been sleeping downstairs if a stranger can walk around here completely unnoticed. Next time he picks up our evaluations, reads what we found out. That's where I get into real trouble. How does X-anyone get in unnoticed after 10 p.m.?

I'll look at the doors in a minute. Now your desk. Which file was right on top of it?

The bottom red one.

Shift the stuff, I'll take it with me.

Elke, please bring me a red stapler.

Wearing gloves, he put the individual pages inside. He put the Advent calendar into a bag that Fabian held out to him, the loose-leaf binder into another bag.

Now your people. They left the office. Everyone line up, hands out. Don't move.

I didn't touch that one. Neither did Anita. What's the fuss about because someone played a joke?

Elke, that's enough! You seem to know more about it, let's interrogate you about it.

I didn't mean it like that. Someone is trying to annoy you. That's why they're already investigating the departments.

I'll check with Doctor Seller.

She now also gave the fingerprints.

Senior public prosecutor Reinhard Strake called. Martin reported what had happened and he, too, immediately issued an order that the dead from the water should be pushed to the back.

Fabian, please give Bircan the phone numbers from the mobile as soon as possible.

Bircan, call Klaas, have him do it immediately. Instructions from me.

At noon there was a first more detailed overview:

The first murder happened in Barmbek-Nord. Hilde Busse, 46, housewife, married, two children. The daughter 22, the son 20.

The second murder: Wandsbek-Rahlstedt. Gerda Schreiber, 45, office clerk, married, one son, 18.

Number three: Altona-Nord, Carla Lohmeyer, 44, florist, married, two children. The boys 17 and 15 years old.

Today: Blankenese, Sabine Nissen-Scherf, 42, logistician, married, two boys, 16 and 14.

Four women, three different income levels. One death at the top, two in the middle, and Busse just missed the subsistence level. What connected these four victims?

He walked forward. Please listen for a moment. We start with doctors and hospitals for all four ladies. Hairdressers and all that frills are almost excluded. Especially with the Busse family, there would never have been enough money for that. So let's find out whether any of the family members, including the dead, were in hospital, then the jobs of the deceased and family members, who owns the flats, or who rents the ones they live in. Uwe, there is a special task for you. Please check on our remaining suspects. Maybe they let one of these nice guys go free so that the goofballs can kill again. Bircan, you and I will go to the Nissens, talk to the spouse, then the shipping company. You may think on the side about what else could have connected the fatalities. Ben, our computer freak, you take on Facebook and all those moronic portals. If you're bored, Anita, first look up more about the other three victims on the internet, including their spouses, children, siblings and parents. Print it out. What was actually diagnosed as the cause of death and when?

Kai Razioni now: There is nothing yet with Carla Lohmeyer. Between four and five o'clock.

Where was she in the middle of the night?

At 5.17 a.m. the truck driver of a flower transporter from Holland found her dead in front of the shop. He called 112, then saw a patrol car and ran into the street waving. All that could be done was to find her dead. The husband does not know exactly when she left the flat, thinks around 4.40 am. She was not robbed. Her shop was locked.

Hilde Busse was found dead at half past six in the morning in front of an office building. She was supposed to clean at five, but didn't show up. When the eight colleagues arrived, she was not lying there. Accordingly, the time of death. A doctor diagnosed a suspected heart attack. No theft, nothing visible from the outside. It was almost immediately shelved, Severin Hiller said. That's what the media said.

Chief Inspector Sven Hauser opened the file. Gerda Schreiber was out with two friends. Around one o'clock they split up. She had been walking because they had been drinking. She discovered a man going to work at just before six. Strangled. Time of death between 1.30 and 3.00. She had 1.48 per mille. Nothing was stolen.

Just put that leopard down everywhere, Ben now.

The newspaper man is out. A 70-year-old pensioner. He was involved in an accident. One turns left, hits a car, which spins into the pensioner's car. No injuries, just property damage. It took a long time to get the accident recorded and everything cleared away.

Thank you, Bircan. Elke, do you have more about the leopard?

The Spusi says: Made in Bangladesh and Ija is written inside. Ija is a house brand of these super bargain markets.

Martin waited. Well?

Nothing, she looked at him in irritation.

Then get your butt into those markets, ask if anyone bought fifteen of them. Bring one of those cattle. Now! We can forget where the perpetrator bought the Advent calendar. It's in every supermarket.

Elke, tell me, don't these Market chains belong to it too?

Ben, mind your own business. I've been checking, Elke loudly. Jeez, type up some reports so we don't have to do it all.

A different tone of voice or you'll get in trouble. Check it out right away. If so, you go there too. This afternoon I want to read all the transcripts on this. All typed by you, plus the tapes. Anita, don't just sit there, do some work. Severin, did you get anywhere with the phone numbers?

"A long list. From doctor to pet shop. Two A4 pages. Hairdresser, nail designer, beauty salon are not included. I have almost all the