Synopsis
September 1960. In the Spandauer forest Detectives Max Becker and Bastian Döhl, from the Berlin Kriminalpolizei, find a naked, tortured man tied to a tree. A cryptic message hangs from his neck. When another body appears, Max is sure it won’t be the last. The press dub the killer, Der Waldscharfrichter (The Forest Executioner) and graphic tattoos on the bodies suggest that the victims are Russians with a criminal past.
As more bodies and messages appear, they lead Max and his team to a horrific past event, wounds that run deep in the Berlin psyche, plunging Max into a conflict between his sense of duty and justice.
In this first thrilling Max Becker novel, meet the detectives that first appeared in ‘Girl Hunter’. As compellingly researched as a Robert Harris novel and fast-paced as a Chris Ryan thriller, the world of Max Becker is never dull!
Excerpt
From Chapter 18 – ‘In time we hate that which we often fear’
Günther turns to Maria and hugging her, says, “after I’m gone, make sure the bull is following then go over to Christian’s flat. If they’re there, tell them to get out. Give them the money and tell them to go to this hotel.” He hands her an envelope and note.
“What if they’re not there?”
“Wait for a bit, then go home. I might call you later to come and fetch me,” he says kissing her cheek, and continues, “all right, you be careful and, Maria? I love you; my girl.”
With a puzzled expression on her face, she replies, “okay, I love you right back, pop.”
“See you later, then.”
In his own ‘57 Opel Olympia, Bastian sits watching, wishing he was in a squad car, with a radio. Now dark, he can see the lights in Günther’s office, shadows moving about. A little after 7.15 pm, the lights go out. He curses, alone this will be tricky, but he must stick with him.
The Citroën drives out of the gate turning left and heading west. He follows. They join the main road south into Charlottenburg, then west again heading toward the Olympic Park. Soon after passing the stadium, they head north to an area of abandoned warehouses and factories. They drive for twenty minutes or so and coming to an abandoned armaments works; the van turns in. Bastian, who’d killed his lights some time back, follows.
The van disappears behind a building. Stopping, Bastian switches off the interior light, gets out, following on foot. Taking out his pistol, he cocks it, flicking off the safety. He peers around the corner of the road the van disappeared down. It is very dark, and he waits a minute for his night vision to improve — all clear. Staying close to the building, he stalks down the road. He checks through broken windows. Stopping, he listens. From inside the building, he hears the van stop, a squeak of brakes and a handbrake applied; the engine dies and a door slams, the sound of metal scraping on metal. He moves on and coming to a broken side door, pulls it open and slips in, keeping his back to the wall. For a moment he stays still, listening.
The building smells of old rusting metal and neglect, and there’s a faint noise coming from within. Retrieving a torch from his pocket, he clicks it on; the small beam cuts through the still, dank interior. Holding out pistol and flashlight he sweeps the room and moves toward the van. Every so often, he stops and listens. There is a faint glugging sound. As he nears the vehicle, he smells petrol and panning the light around sees a growing pool on the floor. Fully alert and snapping off the torch he ducks away from the van. “Hold it right there, you bastard.” A beam of light falls over him. “Lose the weapon and the torch, slowly. Throw them right away, over there.”
Bastian throws his firearm and torch to the ground, clattering away loudly. The light rolls in a lazy arc and comes to rest, its beam casting shadows on the far wall. He says, “what now, Günther? You won’t get away with anything; killing me is a waste of time.”
“Shut up. I’ve heard enough from you and your friends. You’re all corrupt, and you want to frame Christian because he’s slow-witted and you’ll have no trouble getting him to confess to anything you want. Now, take your cuffs and shackle yourself to the handle of the door.”
“F* that! You must be mad if you think I’m going to handcuff myself to a van you’ve soaked in petrol. If you want to get rid of me, you’ll have to shoot me, arsehole.”
Günther fires, the bullet ricocheting off the floor by Bastian’s left foot, bits of cement dust spit into the air, the round whining off lost to the dark. “The next one will be between the eyes you pig, my favourite place to shoot SS scum. Now handcuff yourself to the van. I will not ask you again.”
About the Author
Tim was born in Zimbabwe in 1962. He spent his early years in Zimbabwe, the UK and then Hong Kong. At the age of eight he went off to boarding school in the UK, spending his holidays in Germany, where his father was stationed. He loved the country and its people and in planning to create a new detective series it seemed natural to choose 60s Berlin.
He has been writing for many years, including plays: Wilfrid’s Sussex (1980), Word Over All (1987); and many short stories, including Girl Hunter (Max Becker), The Helmet and The Heist (Max Becker), Mrs Ruth Backmayer, Last Train, Mr Banerjee’s Outing, Alice Band to Myrtle Beach, Last Song for Isa and released his first novel, Angel Avenger: A Max Becker Thriller on 31 July 2019.
Since 2005 he’s lived in West Wales, is married and has a son. He loves walking, reading, writing, researching 20thc Military history, and prior to becoming a full-time writer worked variously as a teacher, college lecturer, IT analyst and Cabinet Maker.
