nerves. ‘I arrived to clean Herr Hauser’s place this morning, just as usual. I have a key and I let myself in. I knew there was something wrong as soon as I went into the apartment. Then I found … Then I found that thing …’
‘The scalp?’ asked Fabel.
Kristina nodded.
‘Where was it?’ asked Maria.
‘It was pinned out on the bathroom door. It took an age to clean.’
‘Just a moment,’ said Werner. ‘What time did you arrive at Herr Hauser’s apartment?’
‘Eight fifty-seven. Exactly eight fifty-seven a.m.’ As she answered, Kristina rubbed at a point on the surface of the interview table with her fingertip. ‘I’m never, ever late. You can check my appointment book.’
‘So after you found the scalp, you put it in the bin bag and started to clean up the door?’ asked Werner.
‘No. First I went into the bathroom and found Herr Hauser.’
‘Where was he?’
‘Between the toilet and the bath. Half-sitting, sort of …’
‘And you say he was already dead at this point?’ asked Maria.
‘Yes.’ Kristina’s eyes glossed with tears. ‘He was sitting there with the top of his head ripped off … it was horrible.’
‘Okay,’ said Susanne. ‘Just take a moment to calm yourself.’
Kristina sniffed hard and nodded. She absent-mindedly moistened her fingertip with her tongue and rubbed again at the same spot on the table top, as if trying to wipe off some blemish that was totally invisible to the others in the room.
‘It was horrible,’ she continued eventually. ‘Horrible. How could anyone do that to a person? And Herr Hauser seemed so nice. Like I told you, he was almost always at work when I was in to clean, but whenever I did meet him he seemed very friendly and polite. I just don’t know why anyone would do such a thing to him …’
‘What we don’t know or understand,’ said Maria, ‘is why anyone, if they found a murder scene, would choose not to contact the police but instead set about cleaning it up … and in the process destroy essential evidence. If you’re innocent, Kristina, why did you try to hide all traces of the crime?’
Kristina continued to rub at the invisible stain on the veneer surface of the interview table. Then she spoke without looking up.
‘They said I was mentally unsound when I killed Rauhe. That the balance of my mind was disturbed. I don’t know about that. But I do know that in prison, for a while, I was crazy. I nearly lost mymind completely. It was because of what Rauhe did to me. Because of what I did to him.’ She looked up, her face hard, her eyes red-rimmed and moist with tears. ‘I would have panic attacks. Really bad ones. Much worse than the one I had today. I would feel as if I were suffocating, being smothered by the air I was breathing. It was like everything I was afraid of, everything I’d ever been afraid of, and all that terror Rauhe had put me through … all coming together at the one moment. The first time I thought it was a heart attack … and I was glad. I thought I was getting out of this hell. The prison put me on suicide watch and sent me for sessions with the prison psychiatrist. They said I was suffering from extreme post-traumatic stress and obsessive-compulsive disorder.’
‘What form did the OCD take?’ asked Susanne.
‘I developed a severe phobia about contamination … dirt, germs. Especially anything to do with blood. It became so strong that I stopped menstruating. I spent most of my time in prison in and out of the hospital wing. Anything could spark me off. The panic attacks became more and more severe until eventually they put me in the prison hospital wing permanently.’
‘What did they treat you with?’ asked Susanne.
‘Chlordiazepoxide and amitriptyline. They took me off the amitriptyline because it zonked me too much. I also got plenty of therapy and that helped a lot. If you’ve been through my record, you’ll know I was released early.’
‘So the therapy worked?’ asked
‘The scalp?’ asked Fabel.
Kristina nodded.
‘Where was it?’ asked Maria.
‘It was pinned out on the bathroom door. It took an age to clean.’
‘Just a moment,’ said Werner. ‘What time did you arrive at Herr Hauser’s apartment?’
‘Eight fifty-seven. Exactly eight fifty-seven a.m.’ As she answered, Kristina rubbed at a point on the surface of the interview table with her fingertip. ‘I’m never, ever late. You can check my appointment book.’
‘So after you found the scalp, you put it in the bin bag and started to clean up the door?’ asked Werner.
‘No. First I went into the bathroom and found Herr Hauser.’
‘Where was he?’
‘Between the toilet and the bath. Half-sitting, sort of …’
‘And you say he was already dead at this point?’ asked Maria.
‘Yes.’ Kristina’s eyes glossed with tears. ‘He was sitting there with the top of his head ripped off … it was horrible.’
‘Okay,’ said Susanne. ‘Just take a moment to calm yourself.’
Kristina sniffed hard and nodded. She absent-mindedly moistened her fingertip with her tongue and rubbed again at the same spot on the table top, as if trying to wipe off some blemish that was totally invisible to the others in the room.
‘It was horrible,’ she continued eventually. ‘Horrible. How could anyone do that to a person? And Herr Hauser seemed so nice. Like I told you, he was almost always at work when I was in to clean, but whenever I did meet him he seemed very friendly and polite. I just don’t know why anyone would do such a thing to him …’
‘What we don’t know or understand,’ said Maria, ‘is why anyone, if they found a murder scene, would choose not to contact the police but instead set about cleaning it up … and in the process destroy essential evidence. If you’re innocent, Kristina, why did you try to hide all traces of the crime?’
Kristina continued to rub at the invisible stain on the veneer surface of the interview table. Then she spoke without looking up.
‘They said I was mentally unsound when I killed Rauhe. That the balance of my mind was disturbed. I don’t know about that. But I do know that in prison, for a while, I was crazy. I nearly lost mymind completely. It was because of what Rauhe did to me. Because of what I did to him.’ She looked up, her face hard, her eyes red-rimmed and moist with tears. ‘I would have panic attacks. Really bad ones. Much worse than the one I had today. I would feel as if I were suffocating, being smothered by the air I was breathing. It was like everything I was afraid of, everything I’d ever been afraid of, and all that terror Rauhe had put me through … all coming together at the one moment. The first time I thought it was a heart attack … and I was glad. I thought I was getting out of this hell. The prison put me on suicide watch and sent me for sessions with the prison psychiatrist. They said I was suffering from extreme post-traumatic stress and obsessive-compulsive disorder.’
‘What form did the OCD take?’ asked Susanne.
‘I developed a severe phobia about contamination … dirt, germs. Especially anything to do with blood. It became so strong that I stopped menstruating. I spent most of my time in prison in and out of the hospital wing. Anything could spark me off. The panic attacks became more and more severe until eventually they put me in the prison hospital wing permanently.’
‘What did they treat you with?’ asked Susanne.
‘Chlordiazepoxide and amitriptyline. They took me off the amitriptyline because it zonked me too much. I also got plenty of therapy and that helped a lot. If you’ve been through my record, you’ll know I was released early.’
‘So the therapy worked?’ asked
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