VICTIMS AND PERPETRATORS
Jenny is of course part of the team. Then there’s Timo Schenk, a young colleague with short stubbly hair who is determined to prove himself.
So much so that when he was still working in the branch in Meckenheim, he volunteered for the Identification Commission.
The IDCO is always mobilized when there are accidents, natural disasters, or terrorist attacks involving German victims abroad.
The experts then fly to the scene to determine the identity of the deceased.
When the number of German victims appears in the news after such an incident, nobody thinks that this is only possible because someone from the BKA has traveled there to identify the bodies on the basis of body remains and DNA traces.
It’s one of the toughest jobs Yasira can imagine.
Even Timo could only last three years. One side effect is that hardly anything can shock him anymore.
He also has no children, which qualifies him to take on night shifts.
Sitting next to Timo is Karsten Seiler, a somewhat corpulent gun nut who, fittingly, has a laugh like a machine gun.
But he doesn’t laugh as much as he used to.
Somehow he has lost his enthusiasm in his thirty years of service.
Perhaps it was the serial killer he was mainly responsible for hunting down.
For sixteen years, she wreaked havoc all over Europe.
Time and again, traces of her DNA were found at crime scenes.
The criminal seemed as brilliant as Professor Moriarty.
She just couldn’t be caught. In the end, however, it turned out that the DNA only belonged to a sloppy packer from the company that produced the cotton swabs used for DNA analysis.
It must have been incredibly frustrating.
And then there are the Katjas. Katja Jürgens and Katja Grebe.
Apart from their first names, they could hardly be more different.
One tall, the other short, one sturdy, the other delicate, one loud, the other quiet.
Nevertheless, they have somehow found each other and perform almost exclusively as a double act.
Young colleagues who, as the boss would probably say, were capable .
. . and competent. There was no one in the entire BKA who researched as thoroughly as the Katjas.
They had gone through the strenuous training in Wiesbaden together.
That creates bonds. It was the same with Jenny and Yasira.
Last to enter the meeting room is her office colleague Michael, who makes a grand gesture and places a box of chocolate kisses on the table.
“Well, let’s get started,” Yasira begins. “We’re all set.”
“The Magnificent Seven,” says Michael as he sits down.
Yasira turns to the whiteboard. There are already printed-out pictures of the men from the video. Jenny, who is significantly more proficient with computers than Yasira, has extracted them from the clip.
“These are our suspects,” says Yasira.
“Uh, sorry,” says Timo. “We have the crime on video. We’ve all seen these guys. Do we really need to call them suspects? Can’t we just say perpetrators?”
“We can call them perpetrators for all I care. There are four of them. The tabloids have kindly already given them names.”
Yasira points to the first perpetrator. In the video, it’s the man on the left who is holding Lena. The one with the baseball cap.
“This here is the hat man.”
“Actually, it’s not a hat, it’s a cap,” says Katja Jürgens. “Why didn’t they call him the cap man?”
“I don’t know,” calls Yasira, slightly annoyed by the interruptions. “Ask Bild.”
“They just love their word plays,” says Karsten.
“They could have called him cap chap,” interjects Michael.
“Focus please,” says Yasira. She points to the second photo. It’s the rapist with the curly hair.
“That’s the curly man.”
This time no one interrupts, so she continues and points to the photo of the third perpetrator, the one with the cartoon dog on his sweater.
“And this is Snoopy.”
Yasira points to a question mark on a white sheet of paper.
“And then, there’s the cameraman. Unfortunately, we have neither an image nor his voice.”
She pins up another sheet of white paper. There is a question mark next to an arrow pointing upwards.
“And finally, there’s the person who first uploaded the video to the internet. Let’s call him the uploader.”
“Possibly one of the perpetrators,” says Katja Jürgens. “The cameraman, for example.”
“Yes, possibly,” replies Yasira. “But that isn’t necessarily the case.”
She draws a dashed black line between the perpetrators and the uploader.
“The uploader’s motive is also still completely unclear.
If it was the cameraman, did he publish the video out of revenge?
Did the argument between the men, which we witness at the end of the video, continue after the recording?
Or if a fifth person was the uploader, how did they get hold of the video?
Was it shared via Messenger? And why did they think it was a good idea to post the video? ”
Yasira switches to the other side of the whiteboard. There is a picture of the girl. As respectful as she is, Jenny didn’t pull the picture from the video, but probably fished it from Lena’s Instagram account.
“And this is our victim. Lena Palmer. Sixteen years old. Reported missing five days ago.”
“Palmer,” says Michael. “Like the dead girl from Twin Peaks. Laura Palmer.”
Yasira nods. Of course, this has no relevance whatsoever. But she’s noticed it too. All colleagues under thirty just look dumbfounded. All the same. In a few days, some cynical memes will enlighten them.
“I want us to work in shifts—around the clock,” says Yasira. “Somebody from this team will always be on the case. If something important happens, I want to be informed, regardless of the time.”
The kidnapping and murder of Hanns Martin Schleyer by the RAF22 may have happened almost fifty years ago, but at the BKA the failure of that time is still a deterrent example in the training program.
On a Friday, the decisive tip-off about the hiding place where Schleyer was being held captive was received by the responsible special commission of the state of North Rhine-Westphalia.
However, it was not processed until Monday.
By then it was too late. The hideout had been abandoned. The trail cold.
Yasira won’t let that happen.
“Timo’s on the first shift tonight.”
“Why am I not surprised?” asks Timo.
“Michael and I are heading to Halberstadt straight away to visit Lena’s father. The Katjas will try to identify the perpetrators. Please also have a word with the experts in Wiesbaden. Maybe they can deduce a region of origin from the men’s dialect.”
“Of course,” says Katja Jürgens.
“Jenny, you take on the uploader,” Yasira continues. “When did the video first appear? Where? Who posted it? Track him down. Maybe we can get to the perpetrators through him.”
Jenny nods. “If we’re really lucky,” she says, “I’ll find a version of the video with intact metadata. Then the file could tell us where and when it was recorded.”
“I doubt the uploader was that careless,” says Timo.
“Let me hope so . . .” Jenny replies. “You know how dumb criminals can be sometimes.”
“So we hope,” Yasira continues. “Coordinate with the tech team.”
“Of course.”
The IT guys aren’t exactly Yasira’s favorite colleagues. Too many technical terms, too little empathy. But their expertise will be important, so Yasira is glad that Jenny gets along well with them.
“Timo, we need the movement profile from Lena’s cell phone,” she continues. “I don’t care how we get it. Court order, BND3, PRISM. It doesn’t matter. I need to know where the girl was.”
“I’ll see what I can do.”
“We’re already receiving tips from the public. You coordinate them. Make sure that our colleagues follow up on every single one.”
“All right, boss,” Timo confirms.
“Karsten, try to find out something about the crime scene. Does the vegetation in the background of the video give us any clue as to the location of the crime? Where is this table?”
“How am I supposed to find out?” asks Karsten.
“I don’t know,” replies Yasira. “That’s your problem. Send the colleagues hiking! Go for a walk yourself. Come up with something. Start from Halberstadt and then gradually increase the radius.”
Karsten sighs.
“You know,” says Yasira, “all our fancy forensic technology is of little use to us as long as we don’t have a crime scene.”
“I’ll do my best.”
“And see if you can identify the brand of the beer bottles on the bench. If we’re lucky, it’s something local.”
“They’re probably Beck’s bottles, which won’t get us anywhere.”
“Maybe. Find out.”
“Mind if I get some hands-on experience?” Karsten asks. “A big haul at the liquor store?”
“Do what you think is best. But the most important thing is the crime scene. Find the crime scene.”
Karsten nods.
“The case is getting a lot of public attention,” Yasira continues.
“It goes without saying that none of us are giving the media any comments that haven’t been approved.
The boss decides when and what information goes to the press office.
” Yasira looks around. “Get as many reinforcements as you need. We have to be fast.”
General nodding.
“I won’t lie to you,” she continues. “This is a downright shitty case. The whole country’s watching us. If we fuck up, it won’t just have consequences for us. But we also have a chance here. We can show that the law can strike fast and hard. That no crime goes unpunished.”
As if . . . her daughter would probably say. Yasira can read in the faces of her colleagues that they are thinking the same thing.
“Look, here’s the thing,” she says. “If we can crack the case fast, it might keep the tide of outrage from rising too high.”
Perhaps then, Yasira thinks, not all reason will be flushed out of the country. And somehow she has the feeling that they don’t have much time for that.
1 A far-right populist party. —Trans.
2 The Red Army Faction was a far-left militant group.—Trans.
3 Germany’s foreign intelligence service. —Trans.