Detective Oskar Rheinhardt stood over the body in the middle of the Prater amusement park. The victim was a high-ranking clerk from the Ministry of Finance, found perfectly slumped in a Ferris wheel carriage. There were no marks of violence—no blood, no bruising—only a look of absolute, frozen terror on his face.
Max leaned in, sniffing the air. He noticed a faint, sweet scent of almonds and lavender clinging to the man’s lapel. "It isn’t romance, it’s suppression . Look at his hands." The clerk’s fingers were locked in a specific, rhythmic position, as if he were holding a phantom partner. "He wasn't murdered in a fight. He was murdered in a trance." Detective Oskar Rheinhardt stood over the body in
Here is an original story inspired by the atmosphere of the series: The Waltz of the Unseen Max leaned in, sniffing the air
"You see, Oskar," Max remarked, cleaning his glasses. "The mind is the most dangerous weapon in Vienna. It can kill you without ever drawing a blade." Look at his hands
Oskar scoffed, "The Ministry isn't known for its romanticism, Max. He was healthy, wealthy, and had no enemies."
"I prefer a simple thief with a knife, Max," Oskar grumbled, though he signaled the waiter for two coffees. "At least with a knife, I know where I stand."