Foreword 2.0

And now I'm supposed to write a foreword. Well, I'm not spared anything (® Emperor Franz Joseph I.). I've skimmed the manuscript, and one thing I must make clear from the outset: István is not a racist, not in the slightest. His own family tree is a colorful patchwork quilt (a kilt made from hundreds of patches of Europe, Asia, and the surrounding areas).

I happen to know how István came up with the outlandish idea of ​​having his detective grow up in Istanbul. At the academy, he had a likeable classmate, Hannes Fuchs. Hannes had actually grown up in Istanbul; his parents really did work at the Austrian Embassy, ​​and he had actually attended St. George's College in Istanbul. Under the nickname Hakim Elbagr, he had terrorized the Galata district with a youth gang, but we were all young once, weren't we? Our pubescent schoolboy István wanted to create a kind of literary monument to this Hannes.

István's neighbor, Serdar, is a peaceful, friendly Turk. He objected every time István called him "Serdan," insisting that his name was Serdar, and that Serdan was a Kurdish name, unworthy of a Turk. István, however, remained stubborn, for a fat fly had perched on the nameplate on the door, right next to the last "r" of Serdar's name. The fly, squashed during its midday rest, left a black mark on the letter "r," transforming it into an "n." After Friday prayers, Serdar's wife, Fatme, went straight to the shower. István and Serdar sat peacefully side by side on the shoe rack in the hallway, and since the bathroom had no door, only a curtain, they stared at the shadowy figure behind the milky glass of the shower cubicle. István thought he could see that Ms. Fatme was apparently shaving her pubic area and then doing it for 10 or 15 minutes. And, as always, they talked amongst themselves, trying to sabotage the politicians. They didn't always see eye to eye, especially not on the Kurdish question, and Fatme, wrapped in a bath towel, stepped out of the shower. She came forward to the washbasin to wash her beautiful, black hair. Fatme, of course, knew exactly what István was made of, and she played this game for the two men every Friday, grinning inwardly. Actually, both men found Fatme beautiful, but István could never say so aloud. His gaze slid up Fatme's beautiful legs and he surreptitiously observed the small, red heart tattooed on her pubic area. "Serdan, your wife has a heart of gold," István remarked ambiguously, and Serdar slowly rose. "Come into the kitchen, we'll make Turkish tea; Fatme will surely want some." Perhaps this little anecdote clarifies István's connection to Turkish culture, because otherwise, there isn't one. In fact, István has only been to Turkey once, for a hot air balloon ride in Cappadocia. And don't bother me, it's called ballooning, I know.

And please don't bother me either if you stumble across the "Czech asses" while reading. That's easily explained, too. István's longtime cleaning lady (correctly: housecleaner) is from the Czech Republic. And when she kneels on all fours on the floor to scrub the stone slabs, István bends down very low to revel in her bush and slit. He cheekily and ambiguously quotes Jacqueline Susann and her "Valley of the Dolls." His assertions that even the Habsburgs enjoyed themselves and therefore dubbed Prague "Imperial City 2.0" are pure nonsense, intended to distract from his shameful amusements. It's that simple with his fascination with "Czech asses," you see? At least it sounds more factual than the Habsburg story.

No wonder, then, that the detectives in this novel have quite a lively private life, to put it mildly. You know our István and how his imagination runs wild. Where everyone else sees a halved grapefruit as a halved grapefruit, this lout is making a big deal out of it. So, let's be lenient, mellow with age.

There's not much to say about the novel itself. A serial killer, a few dead policewomen, shots ring out, the killer takes off.

Perhaps these key details will suffice, and you won't have to wade through all the pages.

Vienna, March 2026.
Rust Van Idas,
Head of the Chamber Office.