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Zusatztext “A strong! intelligent plot and a terrific atmosphere of fin-de-siècle Vienna.”— The Times! London "Tallis's excellent fourth puzzler set in early 20th-century Vienna (after 2008's Fatal Lies ) neatly blends mystery and history...Fans of Caleb Carr will feel right at home." — Publisher's Weekly ! starred review "The historical details of police work and forensic investigation again are a strong point! and with this book’s inclusion of a trip to Prague! readers are introduced to another fascinating city...A solid entry in an excellent historical mystery series." — Booklist "Captivating...[an] elegantly designed and executed period mystery." – New York Times Book Review Informationen zum Autor Frank Tallis Klappentext In Freud's dangerous, dazzling Vienna of 1903, an ingenious doctor and an intrepid detective again challenge psychotic criminals across a landscape teetering between the sophisticated and the savage, the thrilling future and the primitive past. On opposite sides of the city, two men are found beheaded on church grounds. Detective Inspector Oskar Reinhardt is baffled. Could the killer be mentally ill, someone the victims came into contact with? Some are even blaming the murders on the devil. But when psychoanalyst Dr. Max Liebermann learns that both victims were vocal members of a shadowy anti-Semitic group, he turns his gaze to the city's close-knit Hasidic community. The doctor is drawn into an urban underworld that hosts and hides virulent racists on one side and followers of kabbalah on the other. And as the evidence-and bodies-pile up, Liebermann must reconsider his own path, the one that led him away from the miraculous and toward a life of the mind. Part One The Breaking of the Vessels Liebermann stepped down from the cab. Two constables wearing long coats and spiked helmets were standing in the middle of the street, ready to block the passage of traffic. One of them came forward. "Herr Dr. Liebermann?" "Yes." "This way, please." The sun had barely risen, and the morning air was cold and dank. Ahead, four black lacquered carriages were parked: one of them was a windowless mortuary van. A flash of bright light unsettled the horses, signaling the presence of a police photographer. As Liebermann and his companion advanced, a cobbled concourse came into view, dominated by a white church with a convex baroque façade. "Maria Treue Kirche," said the constable. Liebermann had often passed the church on his way to the Josefstadt theatre, but he had never paused to appreciate its size. He had to tilt his head back to see it all. Two spires, each decorated with a girdle of globes, flanked a classical columned pediment. A gilt inscription declared Virgo Fidelis Ave Coelestis Mater Amoris, and below this was a clock face showing the early hour: six o'clock. Winged figures peered over the gable. They were disporting themselves beneath a gold crucifix, enhanced with radial spokes to represent rays of divine light. On both sides of the concourse were identical three-story buildings. They were plain, functional structures, with roughcast walls. Liebermann saw the word "gymnasium" carved beneath a stone escutcheon. In front of the church were two gas lamps, and around one of these a loose group of men had assembled. The photographer and his assistant were preparing to take another photograph. Again, there was a brilliant flash, which exposed something dark and shapeless on the ground. The smoke from the magnesium ribbon hung motionless in the air. Liebermann was dimly aware of clopping hooves and a nervous whinnying. One of the men turned round, a portly gentleman with a well-waxed upturned mustache. "Max!" Detective Inspector Oskar Rheinhardt marched over to greet his frie...
