Page 44 of Nothing Watching

Juliette started up the car and they drove quickly to the police station where they’d been based before.

She had faith in her new idea, which was really based on the earlier theory that this killer was linked to the academic and philosophical world. It was just taking it further.

Once they arrived at the station, Juliette led the charge, closing them into the small office, logging on, and scouring through every database and source of information they had on crimes involving philosophical ideas, radical theories, and disgraced academics. It was a daunting task, even with the help of her team, but Juliette was determined to find the killer before it was too late.

They worked mostly in silence, with Wyatt focusing on foreign crimes, Juliette taking the philosophy angle, and Sierra looking at disgraced academics who’d broken the law in ways that hadn’t earned them actual imprisonment in Germany. Occasionally, they would ask one another a quick question, before returning to their work. The tension in the room was palpable as they combed through endless files and reports. Sierra was cross-referencing online news reports as she did her search, to add another layer of possibility to the net they were casting.

Juliette’s eyes flicked across the screen, scanning for any information that might be relevant to their search. They now had clearer parameters on age, and also an idea of the killer’s build. That, too, would help to narrow things down if they did manage to pinpoint the right suspect.

Her gaze kept straying to the clock on her computer, ticking down the minutes until the meeting that would determine their fate on the case.

With all three of them searching, Juliette hoped they would get a fast result, but even so, it felt like far too much time had passed before Wyatt said, “Look here! I think I’ve got something!”

Pausing their searches, Juliette and Sierra crowded in, peering at his screen.

“This man is Frederick Vogel, a former philosophy professor at a local Berlin university,” Wyatt read. “He was dismissed from his position. But the complaints were lodged by the university students due to his unreasonable behavior toward female students. They stated that he had become increasingly obsessed with the works of ancient philosophers and thinkers, and had started to espouse radical ideas in his lectures. It says here he used to stand in lectures and rant that fair maidens were the fulcrum of a man’s existence, and that death was preferable to the loss of love.”

Wyatt glanced at them. “I think that all adds up, doesn’t it? He actually was arrested, but charges were dropped. Since his dismissal, he’s been living in Berlin.”

Juliette read the article again, feeling a sense of excitement building in her chest. It all made sense—the killer’s obsession with philosophy, his erratic behavior, his desperation to hold onto love at all costs.

This was exactly what they needed.

“This could be our guy,” she said, her voice determined.

Sierra nodded, her eyes wide. “It fits, doesn’t it? The yellowed pages from historic works, his obsession with blond victims. He’s been acting out his own story, again and again.”

Wyatt leaned forward, excitement clear in his voice. “And the fact that he was dismissed from his university job for his behavior toward female students means he’s probably holding a grudge against women, and maybe blondes in particular.”

Juliette stood up. “What’s his address?” she asked. “Let’s get Fischer to organize an emergency warrant in case we need one. And Wyatt, we must tell the police we’re pursuing a strong lead. It would be a disaster if we were pulled off the case now.”

The others nodded, recognizing the time pressure they were now under.

“Let’s get going,” Juliette said, heading for the door. “We need to find him, and we have to move fast.”

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX

Former philosophy professor Frederick Vogel lived near central Berlin, Juliette saw, as Sierra called up the disgraced academic’s address. Jumping into the car, the three of them set off. As she drove, Juliette’s mind was focusing sharply on all the parallels between Vogel and the suspected killer. Violence toward women, an obsession with literature, a grudge against the world, and he lived centrally in Berlin.

They needed to get to this man. Juliette was feeling obsessed, too—with putting an end to this senseless and cruel violence. The pressure was bearing down on them, because she knew the outcome of the high-level police meeting this afternoon could put an end to their work here in Berlin.

As they drove, Sierra read out more information about Vogel, punctuated by the tapping of keys as she searched out relevant facts on their newest suspect. “He’s been living alone since his wife passed away a few years ago. He has no children, and he hasn’t been employed since his dismissal from the university.”

Juliette nodded. “All the more reason for him to become obsessed with something to fill the void.”

Sierra paused and switched to another window. “I’m looking at a photo of him here. Recent, as of a couple of years ago. He has brownish hair and a rather wild beard with some gray in it.”

That fit the killer’s description, too.

Meanwhile, Wyatt was on the phone with Fischer, updating her on their latest activity.

“We’ve identified a strong suspect,” he said, speaking loudly over the engine noise as Juliette accelerated along a side street. “We’re on our way now. There’s a possibility of an arrest within the next hour. So, if you need something for your bosses, perhaps that will convince them to hold off on a decision a little longer.”

He hung up, sighing. “She’s going to try her best. She and her team don’t want this case back in their lap, and she says she recognizes that it’s a huge threat to public safety. It’s higher up where the egos and politics are in play. She will help us in any way they can.”

“That’s good to know.” Juliette felt reassured that, at the investigation level, they were being supported. But it didn’t alter the pressure of time. Fischer could only delay the decision temporarily, and after that, patience would wear thin.

“Take the next road right. Then we’re there,” Wyatt said.

---