The Body on the Banks of the Limmat

A Chief Inspector Böhler Crime Novel dedicated to my friend Jack Morasco

A body is washed up at the Wühre in Zurich. Accident or murder? Chief Inspector Böhler, a detective of the old school, investigates the case meticulously, supported by his assistant, the Glarner Blumer. In Zurich, no crime must go unpunished. Once the case is solved, Böhler looks forward to a beer at the Metzgerhalle.

The Characters

Chief Inspector Franz Böhler: Headstrong, hates violence, divorced, with two adult sons. He enjoys playing cards and mostly uses public transportation.

Fridolin “Glarner” Blumer: Böhler’s assistant, young, ambitious, and fond of Melanie.

Hans Zähringer: Chief of Pathology, former service comrade of Böhler.

Markus Steiner: Financial entrepreneur, the victim.

Mrs. Steiner: His wife, lover of Martin Huber.

Martin Huber: Business partner of Markus Steiner, convertible driver.

Michael Weber: Betrayed senior employee.

Maria Weber: Michael Weber’s wife, having an affair with Steiner.

Melanie Müller: Bookkeeper, a shy country girl.

The Curvy One: Receptionist at Steiner’s company.

Maigret: French detective, fictional character by Georges Simenon.

Lapointe: Maigret’s assistant, a role model for Blumer.

It was a rainy Friday afternoon in Zurich when Chief Inspector Franz Böhler was called to a crime scene at the banks of the Limmat. A passerby had noticed something odd floating in the water and informed the police. When Böhler arrived at the scene, he was met with a grim sight: a man in his prime lay lifeless at the river’s edge, on his back, partially in the water, fully clothed. Accident or foul play?

Chief Inspector Böhler scowled. “Did it have to be today of all days?” he thought. As usual, he had planned to meet friends for a card game that evening at the Metzgerhalle in Oerlikon—and now this evening would be ruined. Franz Böhler, living alone in Zurich’s District 11, was nearing retirement. His career had left its marks; his marriage had ended due to his frequent absences and unexpected assignments. His sons were grown, fully immersed in their careers: Hans, the elder, was studying in Australia, and Gregor, the younger, was pursuing his degree at the University of St. Gallen (HSG) and occasionally stayed with his mother in Rapperswil. His true family now consisted of his coworkers at the station.

The forensic team was already hard at work at the site. They documented the probable crime scene, searched for clues, and worked on identifying the victim. The deceased, a man in his fifties, had no visible injuries. His identification documents, wallet, and car keys were found in his pockets. His valuable IWC wristwatch was still strapped to his wrist, and his wallet contained bank and credit cards, his driver’s license, and a considerable amount of cash. It turned out he was Markus Steiner, a well-known entrepreneur in Zurich’s financial sector.

Investigations revealed that Steiner was involved in wealth management and regarded as a very successful businessman. Why would someone murder him when he was in the business of making people richer? Robbery seemed unlikely—no valuables had been taken. Had he made enemies? Success almost always creates enemies, even if one doesn’t realize it.

After a thorough examination of the scene and lengthy discussions with the forensic team, Chief Inspector Böhler decided to call it a day. “After all, everyone deserves a break at the end of the week,” he grumbled to himself, deciding he would first speak with the police department’s pathologist on Monday morning. He took the tram to Oerlikon, where he would join his friends for cards. He also looked forward to a plate of liver with Hash browns and salad, along with several beers. It was just a short walk from the Metzgerhalle back to his apartment.

On Monday morning, Chief Inspector Franz Böhler entered the pathology department, a place that always smelled strongly of carbolic acid and was typically lit by cold neon light. His old friend Hans Zähringer, with whom he had served for over 25 years, had already taken a close look at the body.

“Böhler, the man drowned—but not naturally. He was sent to the afterlife with poison. What exactly it was, the autopsy will show,” Zähringer reported.

“What a shitty way to die for a man,” Böhler muttered, and made his way to Steiner’s apartment. Unlike most of his colleagues, Böhler always used public transport, which gave him extra time to mentally prepare for each case. Occasionally, he even encountered old contacts or informants along the way.

Böhler meticulously searched Steiner’s luxurious apartment in Zurich’s posh Zurichberg neighborhood. He found nothing of immediate significance—except for a small teaspoon lying oddly on the table, which he bagged for later analysis by Zähringer. After the largely fruitless search, Böhler returned to the city to speak with the widow, business partners, and employees.

When speaking with the curvy receptionist, he came across some discrepancies. She claimed that Steiner had recently had a heated argument with his business partner, Martin Huber. The fight had been loud enough for her to overhear by accident, she insisted, dabbing theatrically at the corner of her eye without smudging her eyeliner. The dispute had centered around differing visions for the company’s future.

Böhler also uncovered that Steiner had been having an affair with Maria Weber, the wife of his closest friend and business associate, Michael Weber. Michael Weber, it appeared, had found out and was livid. Possible motive for murder? Weber himself admitted that there had been disagreements with Steiner about how the business should be run. Business was booming, and there was still plenty of potential for future growth.

Böhler’s phone rang. It was Zähringer with the results of the autopsy. Steiner had drowned, but poison had also been found in his stomach. It seemed someone had intended for the death to look accidental—the poison had dulled Steiner’s senses, and a subsequent fainting spell led to his drowning. The current had carried him from the Seepark to the Limmat, where he washed up shortly after the Münster Bridge.

“Aha, thanks, Zähringer. I suspected it—you don’t just drown fully dressed in the Zurichsee, do you?”

In the following days, Böhler focused his investigation on the main suspects: Huber and the scorned Weber. Upon closer scrutiny, however, both had solid alibis. They had been at an investor event, confirmed by dozens of attendees.

“Something isn’t adding up,” Böhler grumbled to himself. The thorough detective in him was awakening, and he decided to dig deeper into Steiner’s affair with Maria Weber. His young and always cheerful assistant Blumer whispered to the other office staff, “The old man is on the hunt again,” causing them all to smile silently.

Thanks to the curvy receptionist, Böhler discovered that Steiner’s widow had strong motives of her own. She feared that her affair with Huber would come to light and destroy her marriage—and her comfortable financial situation. Rumors circulated among employees that Steiner had intended to fire Huber from the company.

Resembling the French detective Maigret in his demeanor, Böhler decided to zero in on the widow.

The pathology department had released Steiner’s body, and the widow was busy preparing for the funeral. Like his great role model Maigret, Böhler attended the service and the funeral. Often, criminals attend such events to savor the atmosphere. Böhler planned to watch the mourners very closely. He instructed Blumer to position himself in the background with a camera, a task the young man was eager to perform. Donning sunglasses, he prepared for duty.

On Thursday, shortly after noon, mourners gathered at the Sihlfeld cemetery. The pastor tried to offer comforting words. The widow wept bitterly as condolences were offered, and Blumer snapped picture after picture. Böhler noticed that Huber had a faint smile when he offered his condolences to the widow.

“Is that something?” Böhler wondered. His instincts rarely failed him; he felt the telltale prickling at the back of his neck.

“I think we need to put both of them under long-term surveillance and apply pressure,” he decided.

Meanwhile, Zähringer reported that traces of a powerful sedative had been found on the teaspoon from Steiner’s apartment—but no DNA except the victims. There was still no direct evidence tying the widow or others to the crime.

As Böhler delved into the widow’s role, Blumer was assigned to tail business partner Huber.

Blumer, inspired by Maigret’s assistant Lapointe, decided to proactively assist his boss.

Aside from the buxom receptionist, there was also a shy bookkeeper at Steiner’s firm—Melanie Müller from Rafz. A typical country girl, daughter of a tradesman, reliable and discreet, she was fascinated by the big city like a moth to a flame. Along with her work in accounts receivable/payable, she was often tasked by her bosses with personal errands—technically outside her contract but allowing her occasional shopping strolls down Bahnhofstrasse.

Blumer boldly invited Melanie to lunch at a Chinese restaurant, using all the rustic charm of a mountain man. Skillfully steering the conversation, he quickly learned that the late Steiner had courted Maria Weber because her husband neglected her. Thus, Michael Weber had strong reasons for revenge, though his alibi was rock-solid.

Melanie also reported that Mrs. Steiner and Huber often argued violently if someone entered a room unexpectedly.

As they walked back to the office along St. Peter’s Lane, Melanie suddenly stopped and pointed to a pharmacy.

“This is where I had to pick up pills and drops for the boss lady. She was always so wound up,” she said.

At the office entrance, Blumer waved goodbye from his Vespa, promising, “We’ll do this again.”

Chief Inspector Böhler settled onto a park bench near Steiner’s apartment, lighting his pipe filled with St. Barry Rough Cut tobacco. It wasn’t long before Mrs. Steiner appeared, laden with shopping bags from high-end boutiques, and disappeared into her building.

Just before noon, the deep rumble of an eight-cylinder engine echoed through the street—a red convertible, an Italian make with a prancing horse, roared up to the building.

“Well, well,” Böhler thought. “Huber after all. Let’s see if he goes inside—or if she comes out.”

Sure enough, within minutes, Mrs. Steiner appeared, dressed in a stylish brown designer suit. She slipped into the sports car and greeted Huber with a passionate kiss. Huber revved the engine, and with squealing tires, they sped off. Böhler caught the next tram into the city, where an excited Blumer was already waiting.

Blumer eagerly reported his findings.

“Sir, I also visited St. Peter’s pharmacy and showed them a photo of Mrs. Steiner. They confirmed that she had inquired about a strong, opiate-based sedative and purchased it. They warned her strictly about dosage due to risks of dizziness or fainting.”

Of course, Blumer didn’t mention the lunch date with Melanie—or the expense report he still needed to file.

Chief Inspector Böhler reasoned:

1. There was a relationship between Steiner and Huber.

2. Mrs. Steiner knew about her husband’s affair.

3. Exposure of her own affair would risk her marriage and her financial security.

4. Steiner had been poisoned with an opiate-like sedative.

5. Mrs. Steiner had verifiably purchased the drug.

6. The teaspoon had traces of the drug, but no container had been found.

“Blumer, that’s excellent, professional work. Tomorrow, we’ll pay the lovers a surprise visit and catch them red-handed,” Böhler announced, and his assistant beamed with pride.

“We’ll visit them after 8 p.m. and corner them,” he said, heading for the coffee machine.

The next morning, Böhler and Blumer went over their plan again and checked that they had everything they needed: an arrest warrant, handcuffs, the service weapon (which Böhler disliked using, preferring to rely on his natural authority), and a patrol car that Blumer would drive. A second car with two uniformed city police officers was also requested to provide backup.

Böhler spent the day in his sparsely furnished office. He often stood by the window, watching the Limmat river flow by. On his phone were two WhatsApp messages from his sons, which he intended to answer later at home. Then he sat at his desk, signed documents, spoke with Zähringer, and arranged to meet him for lunch.

At Steiner’s wealth management firm, everything was running as usual. Melanie Müller continued entering invoices into the system and supporting the accountants with figures. The glamorous receptionist enchanted visitors and worked on her nails when she thought no one was watching. Meanwhile, Michael Weber and his wife Maria had reconciled and were planning a romantic vacation to the Maldives. Martin Huber was pondering how he could take over the firm once everything settled. Should he move in with Mrs. Steiner? That would be a serious commitment.

In the dream apartment on the Zürichberg, the attractive widow was thoroughly enjoying life. She indulged in long, luxurious baths with rejuvenating foam products. Tonight, Martin would be visiting, and she wanted to look irresistible. She had splurged on new clothes at a leading fashion boutique and had also picked out seductive lingerie from Agent Provocateur for more intimate moments. Markus was the past—life went on—and she needed a successful partner to maintain her comfortable lifestyle.

Punctually at 8:00 p.m., Chief Chief Inspector Böhler and Assistant Blumer pulled up in their patrol car and rang the doorbell. The two uniformed officers waited discreetly a few meters away, ready to assist if needed. The buzzer sounded, and Böhler and Blumer entered.

Mrs. Steiner opened the door, clearly surprised, hastily adjusting her clothing. In the background stood Martin Huber, awkwardly holding a champagne glass, equally startled.

Without wasting a second, Böhler launched his attack:

“You two murdered Markus Steiner, a crime you had long planned together in order to take over his business. It’s well known that you are having an affair, and Mr. Huber, you had conflicts with the victim over the company’s management. We have evidence proving that you poisoned him and pushed him into the lake to fake an accident. Blumer, get the arrest warrant.”

Huber grew visibly nervous and fearful.

“I had nothing to do with it. It was her idea! Besides, I was at the investors’ event at the time of the incident, you know that!” he stammered almost tearfully. For the first time, his cowardice was fully exposed. His red convertible, his playboy demeanor, the whole facade of his ridiculous existence collapsed completely.

“I’m innocent, Chief Inspector. She wanted to get rid of Markus, especially after she found out about his affair with Maria Weber,” he continued, breaking down and sinking into a chair.

After Huber’s statements and confronted with Böhler’s evidence, Mrs. Steiner realized she had no way out and confessed to the crime. She explained that she had been unhappy. Markus had been having an affair with Maria Weber, and so she had sought comfort with Martin. Markus had planned to take over full control of the company and had sworn he loved her unconditionally. Fearing for her future, she decided to poison him and make his death look like an accident.

That morning, she had given Markus the sedative under the pretense that it was a tonic. Later, while they were walking by the lake, the drug had taken effect, and when he became dizzy, she had only needed to give him a slight push into the water. The current did the rest.

Through her tears, she confessed everything.

“Blumer, arrest the woman and cuff her. We’ll take her to the station and record her statement. Mr. Huber, you are also under suspicion of being an accessory and will have to explain yourself,” Böhler thundered.

Chief Inspector Franz Böhler had solved the case. The murderess of Markus Steiner was convicted. Her lover Martin Huber received a lighter sentence for his involvement.

Assistant Blumer continued his budding relationship with Melanie Müller, and it seemed something serious might come of it.

Michael Weber and his wife Maria left for the Maldives to patch things up.

The curvy receptionist continued tending to her well-manicured nails at the front desk.

In the streets of Zurich, crime could not go unpunished—as long as men likeChief Chief Inspector Böhler and his loyal assistant Blumer vigilantly protected the city and its people with unwavering commitment to justice and order.

Chief Inspector Böhler had intended to head straight to the Metzgerhalle after finishing work to enjoy his well-earned beer. But he spontaneously decided to invite his faithful young assistant Blumer out for a kebab in the Niederdorf as a thank you for his excellent work. After all, retirement wasn’t far off, and good people were hard to find—even in the police force.

What case will they have to solve next?

©Thomas von Riedt

Image by Dall-E