No militant Arab emigres with their endless sectarian violence, no former African colonials demanding this and that. Oh, there were the pickpockets and the occasional fight in the Prater and problems in the nearby red-light district. But multiple shootings? To add to the mystery, no one had heard a single-shot—fifty-caliber shots. Rauch had not seen a fifty- caliber weapon since his mandatory military training in his youth. The two Polizei had been shot from two different guns, ballistics had told him. The two bodies in the church with a third, and the professor with yet a fourth. More slugs had been dug out of the bricks of the crypt but were too badly crushed to add a fifth gun to the melee. Handguns, judging by the several shell casings at the Stephansplatz and church crypt. All from weapons like the two monstrous automatics found with the dead men in the crypt. Who would want to lug around something that big? The uniformity of weapons and the fact that no one had heard anything suggested silencers had been involved all the way around, again like the ones in the old burial ground.
