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Cemetery. When I got there, I discovered that a pit had been dug next to it.”
    “Dug next to it?”
    “There’s a patch of grass to the right of the grave site. No graves are supposed to go there. You can imagine my surprise when I saw a wooden cross planted there too—with my name on it.”
    “With the date of death?”
    “Tomorrow. June twenty-seventh.” He took a slug of coffee. “I would’ve thought it some kind of sick joke if I hadn’t heard about that doctor being murdered. He was standing at his grave too.”
    “Did you know Dr. Bernhard Valburg?”
    “Never heard of him.”
    “Are you certain?”
    “He sure wasn’t my doctor. I’ll go through my customer list, though, to see if maybe he bought a car from me.”
    “You’re a car salesman?”
    “If you’re into roomy Toyota wagons, I’m your man.”
    “Could you provide me with a list of potential customers, or is there some sort of privacy issue?”
    “I value my life more than anyone’s privacy. You’ll have more than my customer list; I’ll get you my personal contacts list too. You can even go through my underwear drawer if it’ll save my ass.”
    “That won’t be necessary.” Jan pulled out his notepad. “Can you think of anyone who would want to kill you?”
    “A couple years ago? I would have guessed my ex-wife. But she’s taken off with her fitness trainer to Majorca and is now trying to become one with the universe. Plus she always hated gardening, so a grave wouldn’t be her thing.”
    “Anyone else? Unhappy customers, envious colleagues, angry neighbors?”
    “You’re occasionally going to have arguments with neighbors or coworkers. Things can always come up with a car sale, but it’s all harmless stuff.”
    “Have you recently received any threatening phone calls or nasty letters, had your car keyed?”
    “Nothing like that.”
    “Maybe persons from some other period in your life?”
    “What period would that be?”
    “Have you ever had gambling debts or any problems with drugs?”
    “Come again?”
    “Herr Quast,” Jan said coolly. “If we’re lucky, we’ll find out that Dr. Valburg’s murder inspired some idiot to play a cruel joke. Until then we have to take this death threat seriously. So you really should be telling us everything, even things you’re not too proud of.”
    The man hesitated. Too long, Jan thought.
    “I have nothing to tell!” he said finally, sounding offended.
    Jan wasn’t getting anywhere this way. He shut his notepad. “That’ll do for now. Please do send us your customer list and contacts. We’ll take a look at the grave and check out your background.”
    “You’ll receive police protection, of course,” Bergman added. “I’m recommending that you not go to work today or tomorrow and stay locked in at home. We’ll post a patrol car outside your house. It might well prove to be a sick joke, but for now we have no choice but to take this kind of action.”
    The man sighed in relief. “Thank you.”
    “Stay there a moment, drink your coffee. I’m going to have a quick chat with Herr Tommen.”
    Bergman led Jan into the hallway and shut the door behind him. “How’s it looking in the Valburg case?”
    “Could be better,” Jan said. “We have a possible suspect, but the killer left no clues behind. No fingerprints, no DNA.”
    “Is this the same offender?”
    “Could well be. Now that we have two potential victims, we just might find a connection that’ll give us some new leads.”
    “Between a doctor and a car salesman?”
    “Dr. Valburg was going through a good deal of turmoil. Maybe the cocaine was just the tip of the iceberg. I do know one thing: our new victim, Moritz Quast, was hiding something from me.”
    “What?”
    “No idea. First I have to make sure Herr Quast survives the night. I’ll take it up with him again tomorrow morning.”
    “Maybe it really is a coincidence?”
    “I doubt that. There has to be some kind of connection between the doctor