The witness walked from one room to the next, as could be seen through the windows. He seemed a little distracted, for he went back into the smaller room. From that distance, it was impossible to make out what he picked up there. Then he finally seemed ready to leave. Yes, a minute later he stepped out of the front door. He seemed to be in a hurry, but paused again after just one step. Had something occurred to him? For a brief moment, he stood as though he could see the thought as a clear image before him. Then he gathered himself, turned to one side and walked down the street. At the end of the street was the post office. He went in, took a number and stood behind the people waiting. A sign beside the seats advertised cheap batteries, and two boys were making fun of the greeting cards on display. When it was the witness’s turn, he approached the counter. He took a slip of paper from his right jacket pocket, handed it across the counter and signed a document the postal clerk slid towards him through the opening in the glass. Then she handed him a small parcel, about the size of a radio. He looked at the sender’s name on the parcel with raised eyebrows. He then tucked the parcel under his arm and left the post office. He glanced awkwardly at his watch before descending the steps into the underground station. The witness travelled two stops on the U3 and threw something into a bin at the station where he got off. It happened too quickly, and the object was too small to make out. During the journey, he had looked fairly indifferent. It was only a short walk from the station to the café where he met the woman. They each ordered only a drink. The witness sat with his back to the window and had placed his parcel on the chair beside him. The woman sat opposite. They spoke for a long time, and the woman had laid a folder in the middle of the table. It was easy to see that she asked him to mark something on a photograph with her pen. Then she placed a sheet of squared paper in front of him. As he spoke, the witness drew and wrote on the paper. There were a few pauses in their conversation, and sometimes, when the woman asked further questions, he returned to the paper. Shortly before their meeting ended, the policewoman leaned forward, presumably whispering something to him. Then she gathered up the folder, the photograph and the drawing. After they had both left, the lines he had drawn on the paper could be seen imprinted as fine indentations in the tablecloth. The pressure of the pen had left traces.

Special thanks to Yaël Fidesser, Cassandra Hermann, Enno Limmer, Sean Pearl, Carmen Tobler and Steven Vainberg