The Defeated Aristocrat (20 page)

‘They do, but that’s not to say the twins and Liesl won’t come to you for hand-outs when they finish studying.’

‘I’ll deal with that problem if it arises. You’ll put that notice naming Gretel and Franz in the
Konigsberg Zeit
?’

‘You’re the client. I follow your instructions. I’ll see it’s done tomorrow. I spoke to Franz’s lawyer about Franz and Gretel moving out of the castle and into the Post Office. Apparently they’ve decided to leave Lichtenhagen.’

‘To go where?’ Wolf wasn’t sure why he was asking. ‘The thought of his ex-wife and brother making a new life for themselves away from Konigsberg, him, and Heinrich was appealing.

‘Perwilton.’ Johanna named a village even closer to the city than Lichtenhagen.

‘They’re moving into Gretel’s family home?’ Wolf fished.

‘Could be, given that Lars von Poldi has disappeared and Gretel’s mother is living alone. I didn’t ask, but it leaves you with an empty Post Office.’

‘That’s Gunther Jablonowski’s problem. I’ll telephone him tomorrow and ask him to find a tenant.’

‘These,’ Johanna pulled a sheaf of forms towards her, ‘are the papers you asked me to draw up to reassign ownership of the Gebaur Strasse house to Martin, and apartments to your brothers and sisters. But I caution you, signing away this much income will make it difficult to balance the books on the von Mau estate.’

‘I have Gunther to help me do that.’ He took the pen she handed him.

‘You seem more optimistic than you were this morning.’

He checked the document that transferred ownership of the house in Gebaur Strasse to Martin before signing it. ‘This morning I didn’t realise I was home.’

‘You do now?’

He looked at her. ‘I do now.’

Police Headquarters, Konigsberg, Saturday January 11th 1919

Georg Hafen was in his office sifting through witness statements when the door burst open. Kriminalrat Adelbert Dorfman strode in.

‘Working late, Hafen?’

‘As you see.’ Georg rose. There was a gleam in Dorfman’s eye which he knew from experience boded ill.

‘What do you have to say about these?’ Dorfman flung a file on to the desk.

The file contained copies of the notes Lilli Richter had received and a list of the dates and times she’d received them. ‘I would have thought they were self-evident, sir.’

‘I’m in charge and you didn’t see fit to show them to me?’ Dorfman raged.

‘You are in charge of the police, Kriminalrat Dorfman,’ Georg acknowledged, ‘but I am in charge of the investigation into the murders of three police officers.’

‘You answer to me, yet you deliberately kept evidence from me.’

‘Lilli Richter handed you the last note she received at the crime scene this morning. You gave it to me.’

‘You should have told me it was important.’

‘I wasn’t aware of its importance until I read it. If you want an update on evidence you had but to ask.’ Georg was finding it a strain to remain calm.

‘I am your superior …’ Spittle ran down Dorfman’s chin and he stopped to wipe it.

‘May I ask who gave you these notes, sir?’

‘An officer who knows where his loyalties lie. You ordered a watch on the Richters’s house after the first note was delivered?’

‘I did, sir.’

‘The men reported they saw no one approach the Richters’s front door when the last two notes were pushed into the letterbox?’

‘That was their conclusion, sir.’ Georg confirmed. He knew exactly who’d informed Dorfman about the watch. Shortage of manpower had forced him to place Kappel with Klein.

‘Yet Lilli Gluck produced these notes. I demand to see the statements of the officers you ordered on watch last night.’ Dorfman held out his hand.

‘The only statements I took from the officers were verbal, sir.’

‘You have no written record of what they saw?’

‘They saw nothing, sir. I saw no point in making a written record of what they didn’t see.’

‘Are you being humorous?’

Georg strained to look impassive. ‘Not intentionally, sir. I ordered the house watched, but it was dark. The officers could have missed someone moving in the shadow of the building.’

‘A pathetic excuse, Hafen. Officers are trained to be vigilant even in the dark. These,’ Dorfman rammed his finger on the file Georg had dropped back on his desk, ‘are proof that Lilli Gluck had prior knowledge of all three murders. Why haven’t you arrested her?’

Georg was mystified. ‘For what?’

‘The murders of Anton von Braunsch, Nils Dresdner, and Dedleff Gluck.’

‘There’s no evidence to link her to their murders, sir.’

‘These notes coupled with circumstantial evidence prove her guilt. She discovered von Braunsch’s body. She was at the scene of Dresdner’s murder minutes after the police. She alerted you to her husband’s murder this morning.’

‘What possible motive could Lilli Richter have for killing three police officers?’

‘It’s common knowledge her husband beat her,’ Dorfman snapped.

‘Many husbands beat their wives. Few wives resort to murder.’

‘Lilli Gluck assumed her father’s position as editor of the
Konigsberg Zeit
after his stroke. A woman would never have been appointed editor if the Richter family hadn’t owned the newspaper. I interviewed Gluck’s colleagues who confirmed that when Dedleff Gluck returned from serving his country he found his wife changed. She refused to use her married name and had become overbearing, arrogant, self-willed, and too grand to fulfil her domestic duties.’

‘Lilli Richter uses her father’s name because she is the third generation Richter to edit the
Konigsberg Zeit
. As for domestic duties, she employs a housekeeper –’

‘When Gluck tried to keep her in check as any normal husband would,’ Dorfman continued as if Hafen hadn’t spoken, ‘she took exception to his chastisement.’

‘Chastisement! I saw the result of Gluck’s “chastisement”. Gluck almost killed her. When the doctor examined her, he warned me she could die …’

‘The police doctor?’ Dorfman interrupted.

‘Dr von Mau.’

‘Ah yes, Dr Martin von Mau. The doctor you called to attend Dresdner’s corpse.’

‘The doctor who was called out by the authorities, when Dr Feiner was unable to attend Dresdner to certify his death,’ Georg clarified.

‘I saw a request signed by you asking for von Mau to be considered for the position of police doctor.’

‘Dr Feiner is unwell …’

‘He told you he is unwell?’

‘He admitted as much the last time I saw him.’

‘It is not within the remit of the kriminaldirektor to appoint a police surgeon.’

‘I’m aware of that.’

‘Then why send the request?’

‘Because the report Dr von Mau gave me after attending Dresdner’s corpse was the most comprehensive I’ve received from a police surgeon.’

‘Your job, Hafen, is not to evaluate the reports of police surgeons but investigate crime and gather evidence that can be used to arrest criminals and prepare a case to put before the courts. Instead you are procrastinating, I suspect deliberately because Lilli Gluck is your goddaughter. As your superior I’m ordering you to prepare the necessary paperwork, take four officers, go to Munz Platz and arrest Lilli Gluck.’

‘I have no evidence to link Lilli Richter with the murders.’

‘Do you have the original notes?’

Georg retrieved them from his desk drawer and handed them to Dorfman.

The kriminalrat studied them. ‘These notes are blood-stained.’

‘It could be red ink or even if it’s blood, it might not be human.’

‘After seeing these notes you allowed Lilli Gluck to remain in her house? You didnʼt bring her in for questioning?’

‘I have no evidence …’

Dorfman cut in. ‘It is clear to me that if anyone other than your goddaughter had received these notes, you’d have arrested them. They would be charged and in the cells right now awaiting trial. Go, arrest Lilli Gluck, Kriminaldirektor Hafen. Have her in the cells by midnight! That is an order.’

CHAPTER TWENTY

Behn’s House, The Kneiphof, Konigsberg, Saturday January 11th 1919

‘To the von Maus, Waldschloss, and the Lichtenhagen estate.’ Johanna emptied the last of the bottle of wine between her own and Wolf’s glass.

‘To Johanna Behn, who saved the von Mau inheritance from my scheming wife and brother.’ Wolf touched his glass to hers.

‘Glad to be of service.’ She pushed the plate of cold meats towards him.

‘I couldn’t eat another thing.’

‘Not even a slice of plum tart with whipped cream?’

‘You know the way to an old soldier’s stomach.’

‘Was the food that terrible in the army?’

‘It might have been terrible but as it was inedible we had no way of knowing what it tasted like. We had excellent scavengers in our battalion so we didn’t fare too badly when we were stood down from the trenches. Active service was another matter. We were supposed to get bread or field biscuit. In practice it was always twice-baked field biscuit, harder than house bricks, a spoonful of dried vegetables, and a couple of raw potatoes.’

She opened the window and brought in a fresh bottle of wine. ‘No wonder you returning soldiers are so thin. Open this for me please while I clear the plates.’ She handed him the bottle and corkscrew, closed the window, cleared their plates into the kitchen, and returned with the tart and a bowl of cream.

‘I wish I’d had this meal before I volunteered. I could have dreamed about it. A perfect supper, good wine, beautiful moonlight view of the river, the company of an elegant, intelligent, female …’

‘Who loathes insincerity and flattery.’ There wasn’t a trace of a smile on Johanna’s face.

Wolf changed the subject. ‘Did you always want to be a lawyer?’

‘No more than you wanted to take over Waldschloss and the Lichtenhagen estate.’

‘How do you know I didn’t want to take over the estate?’

‘You don’t recall telling my father on that first visit that you wanted to be a fisherman?’

Wolf laughed. ‘That was our housekeeper Martha’s brother Claus’s influence. He calls himself a fisherman and lives in Rauschen, although the only fishing he’s does is in holidaymakers’ pockets, organising boat trips for them. We had some good times with him and his family when we were children.’

‘You no longer want to be a fisherman?’

‘I grew up. Duty kills ambition. Did you always want to be a lawyer?’

‘No, a dancer. My parents were kind enough to keep my lack of talent and clumsiness secret until I was old enough to discover them for myself.’

‘That’s when you decided to study law?’

‘That came later. When I was twelve, my mother and two brothers died of diphtheria. Johann – my eldest brother – was in his final year at the Albertina. My father expected him and my younger brother to join the Behn practice. When I saw how devastated my father was, not only by their loss but the thought of having no one to succeed him in the family firm, I resolved to do what I could to take their place.’

‘I can’t imagine you as anything other than a lawyer.’

‘I’ll take that as a compliment.’ She cut a generous slice of tart and handed it to him along with the bowl of cream. ‘Would you like coffee?’

‘I’m enjoying this wine too much to adulterate it with coffee.’ Wolf opened his pocket watch.

‘You’re leaving early?’

‘Only if you throw me out.’

She sipped her wine. ‘Why would I do that?’

‘If you were bored with my company.’

‘I’ll let you know if that should happen. You’ve ordered a carriage?’

‘My brother’s coachman is picking me up around ten thirty so I can drive to the Richters’s with him when he picks up Lotte and Ludwiga.’

She glanced at the clock on the wall. ‘That gives us an hour and a half.’

‘To sit and talk, because I really couldn’t eat another morsel.’ He spooned the last mouthful of plum tart and cream into his mouth.

‘To admire the view from my bedroom balcony. This house is built on a promontory. Not only the back but also the side overlooks the river. There’s a fine view of Lomse Island and the new synagogue from there.’

‘I didn’t realise.’

‘You can’t see the balconies from the front of the building.’ She took her glass and left the table. ‘Bring the wine.’

He picked up his glass and the fresh bottle he’d opened and followed her into a corridor. She opened a door on the left.

‘The bathroom. My father’s one concession to modernity in the house.’ Johanna showed Wolf a modern, fully equipped bathroom with a sink, lavatory, and gas hot water heater above the bath. She continued to the end of the corridor and walked into an enormous bedroom dominated by a carved four-poster bed.

‘That looks even more ancient than the ones in Waldschloss,’ Wolf commented.

‘I’ve never considered its age, probably because, like the house, it’s always been there.’ She switched on the overhead and bedside lamps.’

‘Electric light? You said your father hated change.’

‘I won a victory with the bathroom but felt I couldn’t subject my father to any more upheaval. I didn’t put electricity in until after he died.’

Wolf saw a book on the bedside table. ‘You like Schiller?’

‘You’re familiar with him?’

‘ “Life is serious, art serene.” ’

‘From Wallenstein.’ She recognised the quote.

‘Not all soldiers are barbarians. Most of us carried a book or two in our kit bags. Art is what separates us from the beasts. It’s good to read before sleeping so the masters can infiltrate our dreams. ’

‘Did Schiller infiltrate yours?’

‘Not often in the trenches.’

‘But now you’re home?’

Images came unbidden to his mind of his brother-in-law and the other two victims, filthy, mud-stained, battle-weary, arguing about nothing and everything as they all did after they’d been at the front for too long. He saw Johanna watching him. ‘I’ve only been back a day and a night, although it seems longer.’

‘The view.’ She opened the French windows and walked through. After he joined her, she pulled the drapes behind them to shut out the light. As on the living room balcony, there were enormous windows that could be folded back in summer. It was also as warm, heated by its own stove.