‘I’m Detective Brandt. This is Detective Eckstein.’
Thankfully both detectives spoke excellent English. After Tayte’s arrest, he’d imagined the difficulty he was going to have trying to explain himself to someone who didn’t understand him.
‘Who was the man lying on the floor in that office?’ Tayte asked. ‘Is he dead?’
‘Yes,’ Eckstein said, still standing. ‘He’s very dead, and you’ve been arrested on suspicion of his murder. As for who he was, perhaps you can tell us. We found no ID on him.’
Tayte shook his head. ‘I have no idea who he was. As I’ve already said, I just went to the address to meet someone. I don’t know who, and I didn’t get a chance to look at him before your officers wrestled me out of there.’
Brandt slid a photograph across the table. ‘You can look at him now.’
Tayte studied the image. It had clearly been taken at the scene of the crime after his arrest. It showed the man he’d briefly seen lying on the floor. The back of his head appeared to have been struck with something, Tayte thought, because that’s where the blood on the floor was most concentrated. He realised then that the fatal wound had most likely been inflicted by the telephone handset he’d still been holding when the police came in and handcuffed him—the handset that no doubt had the victim’s blood all over it.
‘I’ve never seen this man before,’ Tayte said, supposing he might well have been the Kaufmanns’ insider. He wondered whether the FWK had found out who he was, or perhaps they had known for some time and had now used this opportunity to get rid of him, and at the same time frame Tayte for his murder. He thought that perhaps this man had been lured there, too, but to his death. ‘Look, I already told you,’ Tayte added. ‘I’ve been set up for this.’ He heaved a frustrated sigh. ‘Check my cell phone. You can see the text message that was sent to me. It proves I’m not making this up.’
Brandt leaned closer. ‘We have checked, Mr Tayte. I’m afraid all it proves is that someone gave you an address to go to. Perhaps they sent you there to get these answers the text promised you, and maybe you didn’t care too much about the methods you used to get them.’
‘That’s crazy,’ Tayte said. He sat back, shaking his head. Then something occurred to him. ‘How did you know to turn up at that address? And right at that moment?’
The two detectives exchanged glances.
‘We received a telephone call,’ Brandt said. ‘The caller told us he thought he saw someone breaking into the property.’
‘I’ll bet that call was anonymous, wasn’t it?’
‘People don’t always want to get involved,’ Eckstein said.
‘And was the door broken in?’
‘No.’
‘No, of course it wasn’t. Because there was no breakin.’
Brandt slapped her hand down onto the table, regaining command of the conversation. The sound jarred Tayte’s already fragile nerves. ‘So the victim opened the door for you. Whoever made the call was wrong about the door being forced. It’s academic.’
Tayte didn’t like where this conversation was going. ‘I took a taxi there, for Christ’s sake! You can verify that with the Hilton Munich City hotel. I mean, who does that if they’re heading out to murder someone?’
‘Perhaps you didn’t know you were going to murder the man you were going to meet,’ Eckstein said. ‘Not all murders are premeditated.’
‘Is that what happened?’ Brandt said. ‘You went there to meet this man and things got out of hand? You grabbed the nearest thing you could lay your hands on and beat him to death with it?’
‘No!’ Tayte said. He was so frustrated now that he was almost shouting. ‘I didn’t kill him!’ he reiterated. ‘Look, are you going to charge me? If you’re not, can I go?’
‘You’re not being charged at this time,’ Brandt said.
‘But the night is young,’ Eckstein said with a thin smile.
‘You’re keeping me in overnight?’
Brandt drew a deep breath and sat back. ‘Mr Tayte. A man was murdered tonight and you were found standing over his body with what appears to have been the murder weapon in your hands. Of course we’re keeping you in.’
Tayte had to admit that despite everything he’d told them, he appeared to have been caught literally red-handed. ‘Well, can I make a phone call? I’m entitled to do that, right?’
‘In good time, Mr Tayte,’ Brandt said. ‘Can you tell us exactly why you’re in Munich? You’re a long way from home.’
‘I’m here looking for answers,’ Tayte said. ‘I’m trying to find out who my biological parents are.’
‘And you think they’re German?’