The Bow Tie Man

In November 1994, it was just another day at the Dellen police station. Officers and detectives sat around drinking coffee and answering phones while waiting for cases to come in. Meanwhile, 29-year-old Detective Michael Werner was in his office, deeply focused and analyzing clues from an unsolved case.

“Four buildings set on fire. What does he want with this?”

Four buildings had been incinerated in the last few months. All of Germany was on alert from these attacks. Hundreds of people dead and injured. And every surviving victim reported seeing a man with a hidden face, always dressed in a tuxedo and bow tie.

Werner had tried every way to catch the killer over the past five months, and all he’d managed to do was give the guy a name: The Bow Tie Man. To him, it sounded pretty stupid, but the press loved the name, and now it was on every poster and newspaper. It made no sense to Michael. The killer showed up in the dead of night, caused chaos, and vanished without a trace. And now, this damn elegant assassin hadn’t appeared in two weeks — right at the peak of his mayhem.

“Michael?” a male voice said. “You working that case again?”

The voice belonged to Theodore Manske, his best friend and partner who always joined him on cases.

“This is gonna give you a headache, man.”

Ted entered the office and approached, touching Michael’s left shoulder.

“How’s it going?”

“Terrible. I haven’t found anything, Ted. Nothing in the last five months.”

“Besides being elegant, he’s apparently good at hide-and-seek.”

“Shut up, man.”

“Why don’t we drop this case, huh? We can just hand it off, right?”

“Of course not! I feel like I have to solve this one. I’ve never left a case unsolved.”

“I know, but you seem obsessed with the Bow Tie Man. You don’t think about anything else but him and this case. Look at you, Mike — you’re full of bags under your eyes. How long since you slept properly?”

“I don’t know... But you’re right, Ted.” Werner sighed. “I think I need to take a huge break from the Bow Tie Man case. It’s wearing me down.”

Ted breathed deeply. “I know you won’t drop the case, Mike, but be careful. Obsession is the enemy of man.”

“Guys?”

A female voice cut through their conversation. Michael recognized it as Natalie Kuster, a stunning detective with her arms crossed, leaning against the doorframe.

“The talk must be good, but —” Natalie approached and draped her arm around Michael’s neck. “— the Captain wants to see this guy, and from the look on his face, it’s not gonna be friendly. Excuse me, Detective Manske.”

Natalie walked Michael through the station, and instantly the smell of coffee filled his nose. They passed work desks piled with open cases and corridors with blue walls.

“What does Ray want with me?”

“Call him Captain, Werner. Looks like you don’t know how to keep commitments, huh?”

“What bit you?”

“Oh, come on, Michael. You’ve been saying for ages you’d take me for coffee, and we never go! We’re almost in 1995, man!”

Michael looked at her, startled. He’d never seen Natalie this irritated, but her expression radiated relief.

“Look, I’m sorry, Nat. I had no idea you felt that way. My fault.”

Natalie nodded.

“But I promise we’ll go to Lorenzo’s as soon as I...”

“Catch the Bow Tie Man. Change the record, Werner. You’re so obsessed with this guy that you’re forgetting your social life.”

“Nat, I...”

“Look, I love you, but I feel like you’re distant from me. From all of us! It’s like your life is just capturing the Bow Tie Man. You’re a man with a life, Michael Werner. And you need to get that. Anyway, enjoy your visit.”

Michael was so shocked by Natalie’s words that he didn’t even notice they’d suddenly arrived at the Captain’s office, standing in front of the glass door. Inside, Captain Schulz sat at his desk, staring straight at Michael.

Michael glanced at Natalie before entering. To him, that annoyed look she gave him only made her more beautiful. He leaned closer, grabbed her by the waist.

“Thanks, Natalie Kuster. I love you, little spitfire.”

“Little spitfire? How dare you...”

Before she could insult him with her words, Michael kissed her.

When he let go, Natalie looked like a ripe red pepper. She turned her back as he watched her hair sway side to side.

“Werner, come in, please.” Captain Schulz said from the doorway, probably having watched the whole thing silently. “I hope you’re as dedicated to work as you are to your relationships.”

“Captain... You saw all that?”

“Imagine that. Want to give me a few kisses too?”

Captain Raynard Schulz was a somewhat cynical and dry man. He used irony as his main weapon against Michael’s foolishness and that of other detectives in the department.

Michael entered his Captain’s office. It was just as always: ceiling lamps lighting the room, and in the center, the Captain’s desk cluttered with papers from solved cases. And in front of the desk, his badge.

Raynard Schulz

“You must imagine why I called you to my office, right?”

“I’m aware I haven’t been doing well these last few months, Captain.”

“Something’s holding you back, Werner. You’re not making arrests or cracking cases like you used to. What’s going on, son? You’re one of my best detectives.”

Michael sighed.

“Have you heard about the Bow Tie Man?”

“Yes, but what about it?”

“He started attacking six months ago. I saw the atrocities he was committing — I had to catch him! So I started hunting him the next month, and soon after, I couldn’t stop working this case.”

“And why? Couldn’t you have let someone else take it?”

“I can’t. Something inside me says it’s me who has to catch him.”

“So you’re obsessed with this case.”

“That’s what they’re saying.”

“I know how you feel, Werner.”

“You do?”

“Unfortunately, yes. Going through an obsession is natural for a detective. But the mistake is persisting in it. I was working a case in 1972. Suddenly, before I knew it, I was trapped in an obsession.”

“And how did you get out?”

“It wasn’t that hard. I just set it aside and worked another case until I felt ready to return to the one I was obsessed with.”

“And did you solve it?”

“No, but someone else did. Son, I think to overcome this obsession, you just need to work another case until you’re better equipped to catch the Bow Tie Man.”

“You believe I can catch him? But even you couldn’t when you were younger.”

“Fair enough, Werner. Promise me you’ll catch the Bow Tie Man.”

“Alright! I promise I’ll catch the Bow Tie Man. Not for me, but for you, Captain.”

“I’m flattered, son. Look, why don’t you start right now?”

“Now?”

“Yes. Manske is heading to a suspect’s house. And by the way, he must be leaving already. Why don’t you go with him?”

“Great idea, Captain. I’ll go after him. Thanks!”

Michael left the room, closing the glass door. He then smiled at the Captain one last time, turned his back to the door, and walked down the blue corridor, passing Natalie’s desk and heading toward the elevator, where Ted was pressing various buttons.

“Damn buttons!”

“Ted?” Michael said. “Can I come with you?”

“Sure. As soon as these buttons get their act together!”

After a long wait, Michael and Ted reached an agreement with the elevator buttons. They entered the small cabin right away, and Michael watched Ted press the down button, making the elevator door close in seconds.

The elevator began to descend, making Michael feel the slight queasy chill in his stomach that he always got when taking an elevator.

“Anyway,” Ted started, “what made you want to come with me?”

“The Captain. He advised me to temporarily drop the Butterfly Tie case until I’m better to get back to it.”

“That was a good decision, man. You really needed a break from that fancy bastard.”

Ted put his hand on Michael’s shoulder but removed it seconds later.

“Michael, did you grab your gun?”

“Oh, damn! I’ve got everything here. Badge, cuffs, except the gun!”

“It’s okay, Michael. I know you’ve been a bit out of it. Here.”

Ted extended his right hand and handed a firearm to him.

“I always carry two,” Ted said.

Michael felt the familiar weight of the gun in his hands. He hadn’t held one in ages.

“I wonder if I still know how to use it?”

“It’s like riding a bike, Mike. Nobody forgets.”

“You’re right.”

The elevator door finally opened when they reached the ground floor, revealing a floor with yellow walls and a stronger smell of coffee and sugar donuts.

“We sure love our coffee, huh?” Ted asked.

“You bet.”

Michael and Ted exited through the front door, walking toward Ted’s car. Michael looked at the sky. It was almost dark; night would fall any moment.

They reached Ted’s car, a pretty nice black Opel Astra.

The two got in and sat down, slamming the doors. Michael was in the passenger seat and watched Ted start the engine.

“What’s this case about, Ted?”

“We found the house of a relative of Bobby Grogan. We think he’s holed up there.”

“No way! The drug dealer?”

“The same one, Mike. If we catch him, we can make him confess and take down a drug trafficking ring!”

“That’s incredible, Ted! It’d be a huge bust for the precinct and for you.”

“Well, if everything goes as I plan.”

“And it will! Count on me, partner.”

Ted drove for about 30 minutes. It was already dark, and they’d passed several streets—down Chay Avenue, then Kiner Street number 5, a deserted road with various brick buildings and a foul smell from the many overturned trash cans on the street.

“Here it is,” Ted pointed to a small red brick building. “That’s the house.”

The house was numbered 17.

“What are we waiting for, then?” Michael asked.

Michael opened the car door, but Ted stopped him from getting out, grabbing his arm.

“What’s up, Ted?”

“You’re not gonna do anything stupid, right?”

“Come on, Ted, I’m not gonna do anything. It’s your case. I’ll just give you the support you need. You can trust me.”

Ted released Michael’s arm and got out of the car.

“I know I can.”

The two went through the entrance and entered the building, where they faced a staircase they began to climb.

The wooden staircase led from the ground floor to the first floor. A brick corridor with various wooden doors.

“How will we know which one to knock on?” Ted asked.

“Look closely, Ted. They’re all ajar except this one.”

Michael pointed to a door with strong light shining from underneath it.

“Let’s go.”

They walked to the door entrance, where there was a mat that read:You are not welcome, go away.

“Pretty direct, huh?”

Ted knocked on the door, but no one answered. Then Ted knocked again. Nothing. Ted pounded on the door. That’s when it opened to Michael and Ted, revealing an old lady with gray, curly hair tied in a pink bow.

“Oh, forgive me, boys. I’m getting old and deaf.”

“Ma’am, we’re police,” Ted said, showing his badge. “I’m Detective Manske, and this is Detective Werner.”

Michael raised his badge to confirm what Ted had said.

“We’ve received tips that you’re harboring a criminal drug dealer.”

“Me? I’m just an old lady who watches soap operas every afternoon. How could I do such a thing?”

Suddenly, a strong smell of cocaine hit Michael’s nostrils.

“Well, then you can explain why your humble apartment smells like cocaine, right?” Michael asked.

“Well, that’s not cocaine, young man, it’s...”

“It’s...?”

“BOBBY, RUN, MY ANGEL!” the old lady shrieked.

Inside the apartment, Michael caught sight of Bobby Grogan fleeing through his bedroom window. Meanwhile, Ted started cuffing old Mrs. Grogan.

“I’ll stay here with her, Michael. Go after him!”

“Got it.”

Michael took off running, bounding down the stairs two at a time, dashed through the entrance door, and if he was lucky, he could corner Grogan.

Michael drew his gun and eyed the window Grogan must have climbed down from, but it was all dark, and Michael couldn’t see where Grogan had gone. Then he heard a noise from behind, but before he could turn, something hit him in the back, sending immense pain through his spine. He fell to the ground, dropping his gun.

“I’LL KILL YOU, YOU FUCKING COP!” Grogan bellowed, holding a piece of iron.

Michael tried to get up, still sore, but Grogan hit him in the spine again, hurting even more than the first time. Michael’s vision blurred from the pain. If only he could see in that darkness and reach his gun. He stretched out his hand to find it. He grabbed something, but it wasn’t his gun — it was a rock. Michael gripped it tightly and smashed it into Grogan’s head, making him groan in pain, drop the iron, and clutch his now-bleeding forehead.

That was enough for Michael to stand up, spot his gun, and point it at Grogan, repeating: “You’re under arrest, asshole!” just like old times.

As soon as Michael cuffed Grogan, an ecstatic Ted appeared with a very unhappy Mrs. Grogan.

Michael and Ted put the two in the back seat of the car.

“Mike, sorry about that earlier in the car, okay? I got insecure. I thought since you hadn’t been out on missions, you might blow this.”

“It’s fine, Ted. The important thing is we got the guy, right?”

“Thanks to you, partner.”

Michael smiled.

“To make it up, let me take them to the precinct. I’ll drop you off at home, and you get some rest!”

“What a horrible punishment!”

Ted smiled, but not at Michael’s joke—because he realized his best friend was coming back.

Minutes later, they were back on the road. Ted and Michael listened to and sang songs like “All for Love” and “When I Come Around,” which apparently made the criminals in the back seat totally uncomfortable.

When they arrived at Michael’s building on Eve Street, No. 13, Mrs. Grogan was asleep while her drool was about to drip onto Bobby, who recoiled like a scared cat.

“See you tomorrow, partner,” Ted said.

“Yeah, see you tomorrow.”

Michael got out of Ted’s Opel Astra with a different feeling. He was really setting the Butterfly Tie case aside. This is good, Michael thought. He was becoming himself again. He’d stopped a criminal just moments ago and consequently helped Ted earn a future medal. This is very good.

Michael walked to his building’s gate, where Markus Glenn, the doorman, was as usual.

“Mr. Werner!” Markus said. “It’s only 10:30 PM. What made you come home so early?”

Michael laughed.

“You’re laughing? You usually arrive at 2 AM, stone-faced and not in the mood for talk. And you leave at 4 AM for work the same way you arrive. What’s gotten into you?”

“I let it go, Markus. I just let it go.”

“Let it go? But let what go?”

“You don’t need to understand,” Michael said, winking at him as he headed to his apartment.

After climbing two flights of stairs, Michael had reached his floor. The man lived in the Elgas Del Vivo building and resided on the 2nd floor, at the end of the corridor.

Michael took out his key, inserted it into the lock, turned it to the left, and heard the click of the latch opening, revealing his home. His apartment was simple and small. The walls were gray, his favorite color. It was a perfect place for someone who lived alone. Not that Michael felt lonely, but sometimes he imagined what it would be like if he lived with Natalie.

He’d probably have to take five showers a day because Natalie always complained about Michael Werner’s weird smells. What for him was an unpleasant joke. He always showered before bed and before heading to work.

Michael set his things on a chair, grabbed his towel, and went straight to the bathroom. He’d take a thorough shower and just wait for Natalie to complain about his smell the next day.

When he entered the bathroom, he came face-to-face with himself — his reflection in the mirror. His hair was a bit messy, and under his eyes...

My God! He exclaimed. Everyone had been right when they mentioned his dark circles. He really needed a good night’s sleep urgently.

After checking his face and noticing a pimple on his cheek, Michael undressed, tossed his clothes into a bucket, and stepped under the shower.

The water fell on his head, ran down his shoulders, and cascaded over his entire body. It was a bit cold, he thought. But nothing that bothered him. After soaping up and rinsing off, Michael dried himself with his towel, left the bathroom, walked to his bedroom, grabbed comfortable clothes from his closet, lay down on his bed, and quickly fell asleep, thinking about many things but mainly about Natalie.

Michael woke up to the smell of smoke penetrating his nose. Had he left the window open during the night? He looked outside. It must have been around 4:30 AM.

Smoke was spreading across the sky like fog or mist. Michael noticed it wasn’t coming from far away. It was from the building next door.

Michael jumped out of bed. He didn’t even put on clothes or brush his teeth. He rushed out the door, bounding down the stairs like he was in a chase. He didn’t even greet Markus, whom he passed and who wished him a good morning.

Michael knew what had happened. He needed to get there fast. He knew who had done it. Would they still be there?

Of course not, Michael repeated in his mind.

When Michael exited the gate, he stopped to catch his breath, but it only took crossing the street to reach the sidewalk of the old Ernest building, which must have been in flames moments before but was now being extinguished by the Dellen fire department.

“What happened?” the neighbors asked.

Michael smelled burnt debris, heard desperate people. He saw injured families crying while others breathed through oxygen masks.

Michael knew who was guilty. But he’d arrived too late. He had no idea they’d strike back so suddenly.

He watched a worried-looking woman approach a firefighter.

“Sir, how many people... how many are gone?!”

The firefighter took a deep breath.

“37 confirmed deaths. All burned to death. Another 52 residents and families escaped injured. We’re looking for the culprit.”

Michael couldn’t believe what he was hearing. More and more deaths. All because of that man. Always because of that man! This had to end. Michael had promised Captain Schulz, and he had to keep his promise.