Grzegorz W.'s hidden past unraveled, revealing a troubling history.
A Hidden Serial Killer Amongst Us
Cold cuts like a knife, Feb 12, 2018 – Rosenmontag unfolds, gray and chilly. In an Ottobrunn apartment building nearing Munich, an emergency doctor discovers 87-year-old Franz W. lifeless in his bed. Initial observations indicate a natural death – he was old, weak, in need of care. But irregularities surface during a thorough autopsy: punctiform bleeding around the mouth and behind the ears. These telltale signs eventually prompt police intervention and the involvement of the homicide department. A seemingly solitary case soon escalates into one of the most heinous serial crimes in recent German criminal history within a matter of days.
Newcomer Grzegorz W., a 36-year-old Polish 24-hour caregiver, had only joined Franz W.'s household a few days prior. His employment history suggests multiple care home positions, often short-lived, sometimes spanning just a few days. At first glance, no one suspects that he does not bring aid and solace but rather death. After Franz W.'s death, he himself calls the police, reporting burglars in the house. The officers dismiss the report, claiming the old man was confused.
A Shadow Among Friends
The Ottobrunn investigation swiftly leads officers to an alarming discovery: in Grzegorz W.'s luggage, they find cash, EC cards, pieces of jewelry – and most alarmingly, an insulin pen filled with several vials. Grzegorz W. attributes his diabetic condition and medication to his personal use. However, medical analysis of Franz W.'s body contradicts this story: the man succumbed to severe hypoglycemia. His blood sugar level was dangerously low at 27 mg/dl – a value fatal to healthy individuals. Additionally, the body showed injection sites unexplainable by any medical prescription. The toxicologist and forensic medical team verify the suspicion: someone deliberately injected Franz W. with insulin, leading to his demise.
Initially questioned as a witness, the evidence against Grzegorz W. stack up rapidly. His behavior is conspicuous: even the morning after the death, he is ready to leave with packed luggage. He shows no remorse, listens to loud Polish polka music in the living room while the corpse is in the next room. During the search of his belongings, investigators find evidence that raises doubts. And when the EC cards and money of the deceased also turn up, it's clear: this man is not just an overwhelmed caregiver. He is a murderer.
The Case of Wischmann: The Unheeded Warning Sign
Seven months earlier, in May 2017, Grzegorz W. had already made an impact in another case – but no one listened. In Mülheim an der Ruhr, he moves in as a 24-hour caregiver for 91-year-old Heinrich Wischmann, suffering from Parkinson's, dementia, and heart weakness. The senior's family has a bad feeling straight away. W. appears uninterested in the patient, only asking about Wi-Fi and food. A day later, Heinrich Wischmann is hardly responsive, slurring, and losing consciousness. Emergency services are called, and life-threatening hypoglycemia is diagnosed. Doctors openly suspect insulin was involved.
The daughter reports the incident to the police, but the case is merely classified as "simple bodily harm." Grzegorz W. slips away from the city undisturbed and moves on to the next victim. The fact that Heinrich Wischmann dies a few days later in a nursing home does not trigger further investigations. This pattern repeat in investigations: Warning signs were ignored, clues overlooked, suspicions dismissed. No one could, or would, believe that a caregiver could become a serial killer.
Murder Weapon: Insulin – the Sneaky, Secret, Hard-to-Trace Killer
Insulin, the vital hormone for diabetes sufferers, becomes a sinister instrument of death in this story. It acts swiftly and effectively in the body, leaving barely any traces. Overdosing can lead to a rapid drop in blood sugar levels, resulting in seizures, unconsciousness, and eventually death. In a care context where many patients are already sickly, such a death is not questioned. Grzegorz W. seemed to exploit this.
His demeanor was marked by apathy and aloofness. Witness statements describe him as unkempt, overweight, often withdrawn, and disinterested. Instead of caring for the wellbeing of the care-dependent, he focused on their valuables. While claiming to look after patients at night, he allegedly searched for opportunities to strike – with a deadly dose of insulin. The body of Franz W. displayed clear signs: injection sites unexplainable by any medical prescription, coupled with a nearly zeroed-out sugar level. It was not a natural death. It was murder.
Investigators Reopen Closed Cases
After the Ottobrunn homicide unit secures the evidence against Grzegorz W., he is formally arrested on suspicion of murder. Under pressure from the evidence, he falters, requests time to reflect, claims he only took the money because his mother was ill in Poland. But he remains tight-lipped about insulin administration. Investigators are not satisfied. They want to know: Who is this man really? And how many victims are there?
They begin to check his employment history – and uncover a startling record: Grzegorz W. had been deployed in the homes of over 69 families across Germany. Many of these positions lasted only a few days. Several relatives later report strange occurrences, sudden health deterioration, and unusual behavior from the caregiver. In one case, an elderly woman was admitted to the hospital with severe hypoglycemia – W. had previously been in the house. But no complaint was ever made. The number of potential victims could be astronomical.
Implications: A Systemic Breakdown with Devastating Results
The case of Grzegorz W. reveals not only the criminal actions of an individual but also a profound systemic failure in the German care system. Private care agencies often operate without sufficient oversight, with foreign caregivers working legally in German households without their qualifications or background being thoroughly checked. As a result, a man like Grzegorz W., who had a criminal record as a teenager, could gain access to the most vulnerable people as a supposed helper.
The horrific crimes committed by Grzegorz W. are not confined to the Ottobrunn case. His employment history in the health-and-wellness sector, specifically as a 24-hour caregiver, raises concerns about his potential involvement in other unexplained deaths. In the realm of science, it becomes crucial to study insulin as a hard-to-trace murder weapon in general-news reports, especially as the care industry struggles to address systemic breakdowns that allow unchecked access to the vulnerable. Additionally, the crime-and-justice system must reevaluate its handling of seemingly isolated incidents and review closed cases involving the deaths of elderly patients in the presence of foreign caregivers with questionable backgrounds.
