The Defeated Aristocrat (23 page)

‘So, Dedleff Gluck beat you every night, yet despite these beatings and your husband’s drinking you both went to work every morning as if nothing had happened.’

Rudi laid a restraining hand on Lilli’s arm. ‘We’ve been patient long enough, Kriminalrat Dorfman. I fail to see the connection between Fraulein Richter’s domestic arrangements and these murders.’

‘It’s simple, Herr Momberg. Dedleff Gluck returned from the war expecting to resume his married life. Instead he found a wife, who no longer wanted him. A wife who was having an affair …’

‘That’s ridiculous,’ Lilli broke in.

‘You deny you were having an affair with another man?’

White-faced, tight-lipped, Lilli said. ‘I do.’

‘I can see we’re in for a very long night, Frau Gluck, Herr Momberg.’ Dorfman sat opposite Lilli.

‘Please explain the relevance of your questioning, Kriminalrat Dorfman,’ Rudi Momberg asked.

‘Dedleff Gluck discovered that his wife had found consolation during his absence at the front. He confronted her. They argued. Occasionally, during these altercations Gluck lost his temper and chastised Lilli Gluck. She resented her husband’s justifiable punishments and wished to return to the life she’d followed during his absence. So, she killed him.’

‘I reject your description of my client’s private life and unfounded allegation of an affair,’ Momberg asserted. ‘Do you possess any evidence connecting my client to these three murders?’

‘All three victims were ex-soldiers, all returned from the war. Nils Dresdner was the first to reach the city in late October. He called on his friend’s wife, Lilli Gluck, to assure her that her husband had survived. She seduced him …’

‘That’s ridiculous. Nils Dresdner came to my house once.’

‘You don’t deny he called on you, Frau Gluck?’ Dorfman countered.

‘He called on my caretaker Ernst, not me,’ Lilli insisted.

‘Why?’

‘I’ve no idea.’

‘You expect us to believe that a strange man came to your home …’

‘Hardly a stranger to the people who live in my house,’ she broke in. ‘Nils Dresdner was a colleague of my husband’s in the police before and after the war. He’d been in the same regiment as my husband and caretaker. He knew them both.’

‘You saw Nils Dresdner?’

‘We exchanged pleasantries. I passed him in the hall on my way to the office.’

‘When was this?’

‘I can’t recall exactly. Two weeks, maybe more ago.’

‘As there is a connecting door between the hall of your father’s house and the
Konigsberg Zeit
office, your movements cannot be monitored or verified.’

‘My grandfather had the door put in for convenience’s sake, decades before I was born. As for monitoring my movements. I can’t believe anyone would want to.’

‘Really, Mrs Gluck?’ The kriminalrat was sceptical. ‘Now we come to Anton von Braunsch. You knew him?’

‘Of course, I knew him.’ Lilli saw the warning glance Rudi Momberg sent her way and made an effort to conceal her irritation. ‘Anton von Braunsch is my assistant Lotte’s husband.’

‘Was her husband, Frau Gluck,’ Dorfman corrected. ‘You saw him socially?’

‘In the company of his wife and brother and sister-in-law.’

‘You deny you were having an affair with him?’

Lilli finally snapped. ‘How many men do you think a woman who has a daughter, an invalid father, a house to care for, and works full-time can have an affair with, Kriminalrat?’

‘I don’t know, Frau Gluck. You tell me.’ Dorfman opened the file that contained photographs of the mutilated corpses, removed them, and spread them on the table.

‘Kriminalrat Dorfman, I protest,’ Rudi Momberg rose.

Dorfman ignored him. ‘I want you to look at those photographs, Frau Gluck, and tell me if you can identify the men.’

Determined not to give Dorfman any cause to belittle her, Lilli picked up the first photograph. She stared at it until the image danced before her eyes. There was a buzzing in her ears. She fainted.

Hoker Strasse, Konigsberg, Early hours of Sunday morning January 12th 1919

Peter opened his pocket watch and held it up to the light of oil lamp that hung from the roof of the carriage. ‘Half past three.’

‘The street is quiet.’ Georg braced himself as the police sleigh skidded around the icy corner from Luther Strasse into Hoker Strasse.

‘The brewery’s in darkness.’ Wolf scanned both sides of the street. ‘Are you sure this isn’t a fool’s errand? My sister and sister-in-law …’

‘Are perfectly safe at the Richters’s. We’ve been through this,’ Tension was making Georg terse. ‘I’ve left four armed and experienced officers with Klein.’

‘Experienced officers you trust?’ Wolf questioned.

‘I trust Klein and he’s senior. If Dorfman makes no progress questioning Lilli, escorts her home, hears about the note from Klein – who wouldn’t dare lie to a superior – he could follow us here. If he arrives before we’ve had time to check whether the note’s a hoax and discovers we’ve wasted time on a fool’s errand, he’ll be in an even worse temper than he is now.’

‘I shouldn’t have shown the note to Klein,’ Peter muttered. ‘If he hadn’t seen it, he couldn’t tell Dorfman about it.’

‘If you hadn’t, Dorfman could accuse me of hiding evidence from my officers.’ Georg stepped out of the sleigh as soon as the driver stopped. He looked up and down the street.

Lamps burned, puncturing gold circles of light in thick black shadows, illuminating towering brick facades. Dark furrows sliced through the iced snow on the pavements and the street but the scene was static, still, devoid of life. A dog barked in the distance, causing all three men to start. Cats fought unseen on a rooftop above them. Georg took his gun from his holster. Peter followed suit and lifted one of the lanterns from the sleigh.

‘Stay here,’ Georg ordered the driver. He stepped up alongside Wolf. ‘Your gun?’ he whispered.

‘My hand is on it.’

‘You’ll make a hole in your coat if you shoot through your pocket.’

Wolf removed his hand but kept the barrel pointed downwards.

Peter positioned himself to the left of the massive doors, opposite Georg who’d stationed himself on the right. Georg jerked his head.

Understanding the gesture, Peter moved behind the hinged side of a small door set in one of the larger ones. Georg stood alongside it, reached out and lifted the latch. The door swung open into the carriage house.

‘Police! Is anyone there?’ Georg called.

A horse whinnied.

‘We’re armed. If anyone is there, speak now.’

They picked up the scraping of horseshoes over stone.

Peter lifted the lantern behind Georg’s head. Holding his gun in front of him, Georg entered.

Wolf walked behind Georg, alongside Peter. He looked for electric lights and saw none, but there was an array of oil lamps and Lucifers on a shelf behind the door. He struck a match and lit two of the lamps. He handed one to Georg and kept the other.

‘Light ahead,’ Peter called.

‘Stay together,’ Georg ordered, ‘move slowly, eyes right, front and left.’

Peter continued to hold the lamp high as they inched forward down the length of the building towards the source of the light.

‘You could hide an army behind these carts,’ Peter said when Wolf side-stepped to check the surrounding area.

‘Anything?’ Georg asked.

Wolf lowered the lamp and looked beneath the axles. ‘Nothing obvious, sir.’

‘Peter?’

‘Nothing, sir.’ Peter moved back behind Georg.

Georg inched forward, Wolf and Peter trailing behind, swinging their lamps wide to illuminate the areas right and left of the walkway between the brewery waggons.

‘This place is even colder than outside,’ Georg pulled his muffler high, covering his mouth. He stopped in front of the office, swung the door wide and checked inside. When he was certain it was empty he waved Peter forward.

Peter disappeared inside. Wolf drew closer to Georg.

‘Did you hear that?’ Georg whispered.

‘Metal striking metal? Horse’s tack, harness, or bridle?’ Wolf suggested. He and Georg stood stock still straining their ears.

‘A creak. Wood on wood? Or a moan?’ Georg’s features were sharp, his cheeks hollow in the subdued light.

‘Over there.’ Wolf pointed to the back corner of the building.

Side by side, halting every few steps to glance around and behind them, they moved forward.

Peter shouted from the office doorway. ‘I’ve found something, sir.’

Wolf looked to Georg.

‘We’ll check it then search the corner.’

Wolf felt relieved.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Carriage House, Engels’s Brewery, Hoker Strasse, Konigsberg, Early hours of Sunday January 12th 1919

‘It’s Helmut Norde’s kitbag, sir.’ Peter held it up.

‘How do you know?’ Georg questioned.

‘Name tag’s inside.’

‘Check the contents.’

‘There’s a military issue wash kit on the floor.’ Wolf picked up the battered tin and opened it. ‘The soap’s damp.’

‘Helmut must have been here.’ Peter tipped the bag out on the sofa.

‘Or someone stole the bag.’ Wolf watched Peter rummage through Helmut’s belongings.

‘Laundry bag is full, sir.’ Peter turned to Georg. ‘Do you want me to look inside?’

Georg could tell from Peter’s tone he was reluctant to sort through soiled clothes. ‘Check everything else first.’

‘A clean shirt and socks wrapped in brown paper. The newspapers you were reading on the train, Wolf. For all Helmut’s mocking he must have decided they were useful. An army blanket in need of a wash. A book in an American cloth waterproof bag.’ Peter opened it. ‘It’s a Bible, containing a photograph of a man and woman in what was probably the height of rural village Sunday best twenty years ago.’

Wolf glanced over Peter’s shoulder. ‘They could be Helmut’s parents.’

‘I suppose he must have had a mother and father. Whether or not they loved him is another matter.’

‘The contents of the kit bag, Plewe,’ Georg reprimanded.

‘One housewife sewing kit.’ Peter opened the small cloth book. ‘Needles, thread.’ He unbuttoned a cloth pocket at the back, ‘Spare buttons, small scissors, and last of all,’ he held up a tiny battered wooden teddy bear, ‘a toy.’

‘I’ve seen Helmut slip that into his battledress pocket before an advance.’ Wolf commented.

‘A good luck charm?’ Georg queried.

‘Helmut’s mother died when he was a child. That bear probably had sentimental value. Most of us carried a talisman. Peter’s was a key ring with a locket that held photographs of Pippi and his boys.’

‘And you?’ Georg asked.

‘My father’s pipe.’

Georg eyed the items Peter had laid out on the desk. ‘Helmut travelled light.’

‘All POWs did. What little we had in our pockets when we were captured, the Allies took the first time they searched us. Especially valuable items like watches, cigarette cases – and wallets,’ Wolf added.

‘What the hell …’ Peter backed instinctively into a corner.

Georg peered through the door into the gloom of the carriage house. ‘That’s what Mau and I heard earlier. If the phone on the desk is working, Peter, contact Headquarters and ask them to send down as many men as they can spare. Wolf, come with me and keep your gun in your hand.’

Police headquarters, Early hours of Sunday morning January 12th 1919

Although Lilli regained consciousness within a few minutes of fainting, Rudi Momberg insisted Dorfman summon a doctor. Dr Feiner had proved “unavailable” – yet again – so Martin von Mau had been substituted, infuriating Dorfman even more.

The first thing Martin did was turf Dorfman, his officers, and Rudi Momberg out of the interview room so he could examine Lilli in private. Finding her clinically shocked; exhausted and disorientated he laid her on a wooden bench, wrapped her in her coat and sedated her. He didn’t leave her until he was certain she was asleep.

Dorfman pounced on Martin the moment he emerged from the interview room.

‘I need to resume questioning my suspect, Dr von Mau.’

Martin returned his stethoscope to his doctor’s bag. ‘Impossible for at least twenty-four hours, probably longer, and then only under medical supervision.’

‘That’s ludicrous.’ Dorfman went to the door of the interview room.

Martin blocked his path. ‘Fraulein Richter is sleeping.’

‘Then wake her.’

‘I’ve sedated her.’

‘I didn’t give you permission to sedate her.’ Dorfman’s colour mounted.

‘I don’t need your permission to care for my patient, Kriminalrat Dorfman.’

‘You don’t appreciate the seriousness of this situation, Dr von Mau. Lilli Gluck is charged with multiple murders …’

Martin dared interrupt him. ‘Lilli Richter is in a state of shock after being told of her husband’s murder, Kriminalrat.’

‘Being informed of her husband’s murder could hardly come as a surprise when she is his killer,’ Dorfman snapped.

‘You’re certain of that, Kriminalrat?’

‘I am.’ Dorfman was resolute.

‘You have absolute incontrovertible proof that Lilli Richter killed her husband?’

‘I will, as soon as I resume questioning her. It’s obvious she feigned a faint to avoid facing facts that would have forced a full confession. It can only be a matter of time.’

‘Lilli Richter fainted because she is mentally and physically exhausted. She must be taken to a hospital so she can rest under medical supervision.’

‘She’s in custody.’ Dorfman was obdurate.

‘You can’t imprison a sick woman.’

‘The only place for a murder suspect of either sex is the cells.’

‘No woman – or man – in Lilli Richter’s condition would be considered medically fit to be placed in the cells.’ Martin continued to block Dorfman’s access to the door of the interview room.

‘I’m in command of police headquarters, Dr von Mau. Lilli Gluck is
my
prisoner. She’s devious, dangerous, the chief and only suspect in three linked murders. It’s imperative she be detained to ensure the safety of the people in this city. She
is
going to the cells.’