From "Der Fall Arbogast (The Arbogast Case)"

Chapter 34 Klein took in the room in a glance: high ceilings, green linoleum that had been laid over the parquet floor, roll-front cabinets flanking the door to the office. There was a sink with a mirror and a towel and, in one corner, a Zeiss microscope with its cover. Katja Lavans rose, shook his hand, pulled a chair up to her side of the desk and invited him to take a seat. "Cigarette?" He declined and placed the file on the chair. She was wearing a white lab coat, and from its left breast pocket protruded a pair of forceps and a scalpel. She looked younger than she had on television. He liked her short hair, and watched her closely as she picked up an ashtray and pack of cigarettes, tapped one free, and lit it. Katja Lavans came straight to the point. "Your partner, Mr. Sarrazin, has already told me a little about the case. I informed him on the telephone that in principle I'm willing to serve as an expert witness." She avoided blowing smoke in his face, and he had to think about what to say next-a thing that never happened to him. "Yes, we were very pleased to hear that. I'm certain we'll be able to work out the details. There's a great deal riding on this for uswe've been working on behalf of Hans Arbogast for years now, that's to say, above all on behalf of a man who has the courage to face down the phalanx of your West German colleagues. When we heard your remarks on television, we realized at once that we had to contact you. You hold a position in forensic medicine at Humboldt University, in addition to your work here?" "Yes, I've just been appointed." "Congratulations." "I'm also divorced." He wondered for a moment, expressionless, how old she might be, then ventured: "So am I." Katja Lavans ground out her cigarette. She pushed the ashtray away as she exhaled the last bit of smoke. "Did you know that the oldest extant work on forensic medicine, the book Hsi Yuan Lu or The Washing Away of Wrongs, dates from the year 1248? A Chinese friend who was visiting told me it was still in use in China into the nineteenth century. Hsi Yuan Lu consists of five books: the first covers trauma and abortion; the second distinguishes the injuries caused by various tools and methods and whether they were sustained pre- or postmortem; the third book covers death by strangulation and drowning; and the remaining two deal extensively with poisons and toxicology." "Ancient Chinese secrets, eh?" She smiled wanly and looked straight at him. "If you like. At any rate, the part on strangulation seems to be of great interest with regard to your case." Klein nodded. "So when did forensic medicine begin here in Europe?" "The beginning of the seventeenth century. The first text on the subject is a work by Paolo Zacchia, personal physician to the pope. Incidentally, this building was once the premiere morgue of Berlin. The back of the building faces the Dorotheenstadt cemetery, where Johannes R. Becher is buried." "And Bert Brecht, right?" "Yes, that's right. You must have seen the Charite Hospital's out-- patient clinic-it's pretty much directly across from us-and then further up is the Natural History Museum." Ansgar Klein nodded. "And you're going to tell me that I absolutely must visit it?" She smiled. "Well, you really ought to see the dinosaurs." "Maybe next time." "Back then, this place, which was Germany's first institute of forensic medicine, was a completely up-to-date modern facility. By the way, do you know what the original function of the morgue was?" "No." "Unidentified bodies-and at the end of the last century, there were nearly seven hundred of them a year here in Berlin-were laid out in long rows to facilitate what they called identification." Klein nodded. The pathologist bent forward and flicked at a pencil on her desk blotter with her left index finger, all the while gazing directly at Klein. …