flagstone walkway to the cottage.”
“I saw that he had marked the area off.”
“Daudet had the tracks photographed before the rain started and washed them away.”
“Excellent.”
“He also made a cast of the tire tracks in the mud by the front door of the cottage. Daudet looked around the cottage and property for bicycles and found none. He checked with neighbors and friends and found out that Azra and her boyfriend didn’t own or use bicycles.”
“So . . . the killer used a quiet and unobtrusive bicycle to reach the cottage?”
“Looks like it. Daudet went out with other gendarmes to canvass the neighborhood . . . they covered a half-mile area in every direction from the cottage . . . they found a farmer who remembered seeing something odd.”
“What? . . . When?” said Sohlberg.
“He says that barking dogs woke him up . . . he looked at his clock and it was around the time when Korbal’s neighbors heard the gunshots and called the gendarmes. . . . The barking dogs were in the direction of Korbal’s home . . . the man stayed by his window for about fifteen minutes wondering why the dogs kept barking . . . then he saw . . . in a distant road . . . someone going very fast on a bicycle. He wondered why anyone would be out so late on a bicycle.”
“Really?” said Sohlberg. He desperately tried not to get his hopes raised and then dashed. “Did the farmer see the bicyclist?”
“He was too far away. The gendarmes are canvassing all of the homes and farms along the road where this witness saw a man . . . or a woman . . . on a bicycle.”
“So . . . a bicycle is how the killer arrived and got away. Silent. Very effective. Not likely to attract attention.”
“Sohlberg . . . it’s almost as if someone is dedicated to avoiding prosecution at all costs and yet they want to leave enough clues behind to make sure that we know that Azra Korbal was assassinated in a professional hit.”
“I agree. If they wanted an undetected murder they should’ve kidnaped or lured Azra Korbal away from her house . . . killed her . . . and then made sure that her body permanently disappeared. Acid. Concrete. A wood chipper. That way there would always be doubts as to whether she was alive somewhere. Instead they chose this kill method . . . one that would inevitably expose her double-life and false identity.”
Bruno Laprade shook his head. “I’m not one for waving the white flag of surrender . . . but this smells like a murder that will go unsolved until we retire or die.”
“No. Not if we lay a trap. A clever trap.”
“What trap?” shouted Laprade. “What trick will bring in the killers?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t burn the midnight oil on setting up some trap.”
“Why not?”
“Your Interpol higher-ups on the top floor sent a fax to Paris . . . to the Interior Minister herself. Interpol says it doesn’t want more done on the Azra Korbal murder because Internal Affairs is handling the matter . Your Secretary General signed off on the letter. . . .”
“Unbelievable but . . . not surprising. They don’t want a scandal on how easily they got penetrated. They want Internal Affairs for damage control. They were down in her cubicle a few days after I went through it. They took everything out. It’s like she never existed.”
“Ah yes. The old bureaucrat trick . . . out of sight . . . out of mind. Anyway . . . the letter stated that Interpol considers the case closed to outside investigators .”
“Idiots.”
“The letter specifically stated that Interpol will not allow any access to her records. A few minutes later our Foreign Minister got a fax from Ankara . . . the Turkish government is backing up your Interpol mucky-mucks and will not do anything more on the case . . . or let anyone snoop around in Turkey.”
Sohlberg pointed at a deranged monstrosity on the wall. “LIFE, A MASTERPIECE” was a mess of paint splattered over a dirty toilet seat. “Looks like
“I saw that he had marked the area off.”
“Daudet had the tracks photographed before the rain started and washed them away.”
“Excellent.”
“He also made a cast of the tire tracks in the mud by the front door of the cottage. Daudet looked around the cottage and property for bicycles and found none. He checked with neighbors and friends and found out that Azra and her boyfriend didn’t own or use bicycles.”
“So . . . the killer used a quiet and unobtrusive bicycle to reach the cottage?”
“Looks like it. Daudet went out with other gendarmes to canvass the neighborhood . . . they covered a half-mile area in every direction from the cottage . . . they found a farmer who remembered seeing something odd.”
“What? . . . When?” said Sohlberg.
“He says that barking dogs woke him up . . . he looked at his clock and it was around the time when Korbal’s neighbors heard the gunshots and called the gendarmes. . . . The barking dogs were in the direction of Korbal’s home . . . the man stayed by his window for about fifteen minutes wondering why the dogs kept barking . . . then he saw . . . in a distant road . . . someone going very fast on a bicycle. He wondered why anyone would be out so late on a bicycle.”
“Really?” said Sohlberg. He desperately tried not to get his hopes raised and then dashed. “Did the farmer see the bicyclist?”
“He was too far away. The gendarmes are canvassing all of the homes and farms along the road where this witness saw a man . . . or a woman . . . on a bicycle.”
“So . . . a bicycle is how the killer arrived and got away. Silent. Very effective. Not likely to attract attention.”
“Sohlberg . . . it’s almost as if someone is dedicated to avoiding prosecution at all costs and yet they want to leave enough clues behind to make sure that we know that Azra Korbal was assassinated in a professional hit.”
“I agree. If they wanted an undetected murder they should’ve kidnaped or lured Azra Korbal away from her house . . . killed her . . . and then made sure that her body permanently disappeared. Acid. Concrete. A wood chipper. That way there would always be doubts as to whether she was alive somewhere. Instead they chose this kill method . . . one that would inevitably expose her double-life and false identity.”
Bruno Laprade shook his head. “I’m not one for waving the white flag of surrender . . . but this smells like a murder that will go unsolved until we retire or die.”
“No. Not if we lay a trap. A clever trap.”
“What trap?” shouted Laprade. “What trick will bring in the killers?”
“I . . . I don’t know.”
“I wouldn’t burn the midnight oil on setting up some trap.”
“Why not?”
“Your Interpol higher-ups on the top floor sent a fax to Paris . . . to the Interior Minister herself. Interpol says it doesn’t want more done on the Azra Korbal murder because Internal Affairs is handling the matter . Your Secretary General signed off on the letter. . . .”
“Unbelievable but . . . not surprising. They don’t want a scandal on how easily they got penetrated. They want Internal Affairs for damage control. They were down in her cubicle a few days after I went through it. They took everything out. It’s like she never existed.”
“Ah yes. The old bureaucrat trick . . . out of sight . . . out of mind. Anyway . . . the letter stated that Interpol considers the case closed to outside investigators .”
“Idiots.”
“The letter specifically stated that Interpol will not allow any access to her records. A few minutes later our Foreign Minister got a fax from Ankara . . . the Turkish government is backing up your Interpol mucky-mucks and will not do anything more on the case . . . or let anyone snoop around in Turkey.”
Sohlberg pointed at a deranged monstrosity on the wall. “LIFE, A MASTERPIECE” was a mess of paint splattered over a dirty toilet seat. “Looks like
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