Frank Schätzing

Inspector Cüpper faces an uphill task as he scours Cologne for Inka von Barneck’s murderer. Everyone connected to the dead woman has a reason for loathing her, not least her estranged husband, Fritz von Barneck, and Marion, her daughter from a previous marriage. The clock is ticking as Inspector Cüpper unravels the perpetrator’s murderous plans. Will he get to the zoo before the killer strikes again?

© Emons Verlag

Cüpper was running like a man possessed. Back in the day, he used to be a decent sprinter, but that was at the academy before years of eating and drinking too well. He charged down Riehler Straße, ignoring the pain in his chest. Zoo Bridge was ahead of him in the distance, light years away.

If only he could drive there… but he had left the car at the digital megastore because there weren’t any spaces in town. Bloody Cologne!

Panting and wheezing, he ran into Reichsberger Square. His shoes beat out a rapid staccato on the asphalt. There was a squeal of brakes; he kept going, knowing that the driver had stopped just in time. The next crossing showed a flashing red man as well. He didn’t slow his pace or check for traffic: he sprinted across the road.

Zoo

The murderer stopped and looked around. He could feel the pressure of the knife handle beneath his blazer, a reminder that time was running out.

He scanned his surroundings. To the right, two cassowaries were peering at him through a six-foot thicket of shrubs; to the left, deer and okapi were grazing in a spacious enclosure. Further on, the path forked, one branch leading past the zebras and onto Monkey Island, the other narrowing and disappearing among the trees.

He tried to remember how to get to the lions. While he was racking his brains, the baboons started screeching and chasing each other around the island. He cursed himself for not asking for directions. But if he’d asked for directions, someone would have volunteered to show him the way, and the last thing he needed was an audience. Later, perhaps, but not now.

He took the left-hand path.

Barely fifty metres away, Marion was wondering what to do. It had occurred to her that Fritz never usually met her at the zoo. His last visit was probably as a child, if at all. He definitely wasn’t the type to spend his leisure time with penguins or kangaroos.

She glanced at her watch – ten minutes to eight. It was time to feed the cats. She wondered if Fritz had lost his way. People often took a wrong turn when they got to Monkey Island. It wouldn’t hurt to check. She set off at a leisurely stroll.

The zoo! Cüpper reached the main entrance in a state that made it unnecessary to speculate about his physical condition. He knew that if he stopped for even a second he would never take another step: his skeleton would stop holding him together, his heart would explode, and his lungs would collapse.

And so he carried on, wheezing as he charged up the steps to the office and through the open door. The desk was unattended behind the glass screen. He rushed on, shoes slipping on the shiny floor, down a corridor, through the back door, and into the kingdom of the beasts.