The male-dominated chess world is sweating: In the Munich crime scene, the queen wears a negligee

The presumed dead woman in the steaming pool of the luxury hotel is as beautiful as a romantic painting. Her back is delicately limbed, her hair draped on the surface like a vine. Then she takes a breath, climbs out of the pool, grabs the champagne bottle, steps to the railing—and falls into the depths.

Only the giants of the Wetterstein Mountains are witnesses. The second of the "Queen" of chess, Natalie Laurent, is dead. The favorite from France has thus lost her most important supporter, and the world-class tournament has its first scandal. And that's just the beginning.

With its opening scenes, the "Tatort" episode "Zugzwang" succeeds in creating a quality that's hard to beat. As tasteful as James Bond. Disturbing as a poem by Lord Byron. Every camera angle is a deceptive maneuver, just like the story itself.

As soon as the investigators from faraway Munich arrive, it's clear: The president of the world federation, Kamran Hasanov, a scoundrel chauvinist from Azerbaijan, is the first to rejoice over the woman's death: "That bitch" Laurent receives a severe blow with the death of her employee. "She ruined chess! She ruined everything!" Because it's not chess that's being played here, but a battle of the sexes. The French-frivolous Laurent (Roxane Duran) is attacking the world elite, the male monopoly on the world championship title!

Chess is a male stronghold; in Switzerland, for example, only 7.5 percent of players are female. Is this because women are "terrible chess players," as world champion Bobby Fischer once claimed? Or because, as Ivo Batic (Miroslav Nemec) points out, "women simply have better things to do with their time?"

For the misogynist Hasanov (Husam Chadat), it's clear either way: "Chess players are the smartest people." Women, he says, can't think and aren't aggressive. The figure from a distant time is the only undercomplex clown among a complex cast of characters, all of whom share an interest in Laurent. During further attacks in the hotel, a rook figure appears in front of the room door; the phallic symbolism speaks for itself. The circle of suspects expands into the audience.

What role does the tournament organizer play, who cashes in on the agent provocateur Laurent? And would gladly take over Hasanov's position. However, Hasanov hasn't counted on Laurent in his man-hating ways, and he's paying for his attitude with his life: The Frenchwoman not only plays chess like a world champion, but also plays cat and mouse with her opponents like a world champion.

Laurent is the perfect bogeyman. Provocation and psychology from head to toe: a jovial wink for her rival as she enters the room, delicate as a Limoges figurine; her outfit is half negligee, half dominatrix. "Queen beats king" is her unflinching conviction, with which she makes the male chess world sweat.

But rumors are circulating: Laurent is said to have cheated in online games. This also applies to her strongest competitor on the board, Teddy Boyle (Max Befort). His fake-blonde hairstyle regularly goes haywire when he sits across from the Frenchwoman. And is it true that Lilit Kayserian, the dead second, was willing to testify against her boss?

All sympathy is for the "Queen," all dislike is for the chess circus. This, too, can be misleading. In the tactics of deception for the sake of justice, Natalie Laurent is undeniably a role model for her entire gender.

“Tatort” from Munich, “Zugzwang,” on Sunday, April 27, 8:05 / 8:15 p.m., SRF 1 / ARD.