The Defeated Aristocrat (9 page)

‘Something?’ Georg asked.

‘A bruise over the carotid artery. Exert enough pressure at that point for ten seconds, you render a man unconscious, twenty seconds, you kill him.’

‘Who would know that?’

‘A doctor, nurse, soldier, trained medic, sportsman …’

‘Too long a list to be helpful.’

Martin folded back the hinged mask, removing the metal nose guard and eye rings from the head of the corpse. The blood drained from his face. He swayed.

‘Dr von Mau?’ Georg helped him to a chair.

‘That is, or was, one of my brother-in-law’s closest friends, Kriminaldirektor. Kriminaloberassistent Nils Dresdner.’

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lichtenhagen, Saturday January 11th 1919

The Post Office had two bedrooms. With Franz and Pippi in one, and the children in the other, Wolf was relegated to Martha’s kitchen. The stove was lit so the room was warm, but he found it impossible to get comfortable. He tried balancing on two chairs, gave up after an hour and spread the blankets Martha had given him on the stone floor. As an afterthought he folded the grubbiest parts of his greatcoat inside the lining and utilised it as a pillow.

It wasn’t just the discomfort. It was the thought of Franz and Gretel curled in the feather-bedded family four-poster. And, as if that wasn’t enough, he couldn’t banish the image of Heinrich’s pale bruised face and fearful eyes from mind. Already his child was haunting him. He recalled what Martha had said when she’d first laid him in his arms.

‘You have a son, Wolf. From this moment he owes you nothing and you owe him everything.’

Her advice hadn’t stopped him from leaving Heinrich to Gretel’s inadequate care. The facts were inescapable. His defenceless child had been beaten, and it was entirely his fault. He’d abandoned him because marching off to war had been preferable to domestic life with Gretel. Knowing he was responsible for causing his son pain kindled emotions he’d believed had died in France.

He woke with a start when Martha entered the kitchen with Gunther and Hans, a massive, slow-witted man who laboured on the estate. Hans was carrying a large trunk on his back, Gunther a wooden packing case.

‘Set the trunk down here, next to the stove, please, Hans,’ Martha ordered. ‘If you’d be so kind as to leave the packing case in the pantry, Gunther.’

They did as she asked. ‘Is that all you want done before breakfast, Martha?’ Hans drawled.

‘Yes, thank you.’

‘Good to see you back, sir.’

‘Good to see you, Hans.’ Wolf struggled to his feet and offered Hans his hand.

Hans checked his was clean before taking it.

‘Are your family well?’ Wolf asked.

‘My mother and father were glad to see you back yesterday, sir. I have to go to breakfast in the castle kitchen. The cook doesn’t like it when I’m late.’

Wolf recalled his father saying Hans ate twice as much as any normal man but as he did four times the work, no one had the right to complain. He said goodbye to Hans and handed Gunther the envelope he’d prepared the night before. ‘Your authority to manage the estate in my absence. I’ve given Franz a copy along with an eviction notice. He and Gretel have my permission to move in here and run the Post Office after Martha leaves, on condition they don’t attempt to return to the castle. If they try, contact me immediately. I’ll prosecute them for trespass.’

‘Thank you, sir.’ Gunther slid the envelope into his pocket. ‘Martha, do you want me to bring in any more packing cases?’

‘Not until I’ve filled this one, thank you, Gunther. Go, get your breakfast.’

‘I’ll be at my brother Martin’s house if you need me, Gunther,’ Wolf said.

‘I have his telephone number, sir. Any problems I’ll be in touch, not that I foresee any. It’s good to have you back.’

‘Good to be back, Gunther.’ Wolf saw him out and returned to look at the trunk. ‘What’s this, Martha?’

Martha opened the stove and tossed in two logs. ‘Franz had your summer wardrobe altered to fit him last June. When the tailor finished, Franz asked me to arrange to have your winter wardrobe delivered to him. I told him I couldn’t find it.’

‘You didn’t believe I was dead?’

‘Pippi’s telegram said Peter was a prisoner of the allies. You two have always stuck together. I had hope.’

‘What else have you hidden from Franz?’

‘A few things,’ she hedged. ‘Anyway, here are your winter clothes and your father’s. Given the weight you’ve lost they’ll be too big, but better that than too short like Peter’s.’

‘Thank you.’ He opened the trunk. His father’s leather cap and coat were on top. He’d taken to wearing them after his father’s death because they smelled of his cologne. He set them to one side along with a three-piece woollen suit, socks, flannel shirt, leather waistcoat, and underclothes. Martha disappeared and returned with two blankets and a pillow. She set them on top of the trunk.

‘You gave your bed to Peter?’ He was ashamed for not sparing a thought as to where Martha would sleep.

‘I didn’t think he and Pippi would appreciate company on his first night back. I made up a bed on the bench in the office.’

‘That must have been hard.’

‘No harder than the floor in here.’ She thrust her hand into her apron pocket and handed him two ten mark notes. ‘You and Peter will need train fare. I swear the mice in the city eat whatever’s in people’s pockets the way money disappears there.’

‘I’ll give it back to you as soon as I’ve been to the bank.’

‘I wouldn’t count on them giving you money.’

‘Then I’ll get a job.’

‘I’ll have breakfast ready by the time you’ve washed and dressed. There’s a train leaving the halt in an hour.’

‘Thank you, Martha, what would I do without you?’

‘Starve and freeze in Peter’s clothes.’

Peter entered into the washhouse when Wolf was dressing.

‘Martha has breakfast on the table.’ He dropped his clothes on a chair, filled a basin at the pump, and stripped off his nightshirt. ‘Owa, this water is cold.’

‘Colder than England or France, but it’s Prussian water so you shouldn’t complain. I didn’t expect to see you this early.’ Wolf stooped to tie his bootlaces.

‘I want to pay my respects to Lotte.’

‘That’s something I’m not looking forward to.’

‘We all thought we’d done with death for a while.’ Peter plunged his head into the bowl.

‘It appears death isn’t done with us. But life has compensations judging by that grin on your face.’

‘The sooner I get my job back, the sooner I can return to Konigsberg with Pippi and the children. Then I’ll be smiling every morning. Sorry, Wolf, that was selfish of me.’

‘You expect me to be jealous because you have a loyal wife and good marriage when I have none?’

‘I would be in your place, but you don’t look it.’

‘That’s because I’m more practised in the art of concealing my feelings than you.’ Wolf left the washhouse. He couldn’t resist looking up at the castle. The drapes were open in the master bedroom. Gretel was looking down at him.

He met her gaze and waited until she turned away. Only then did he enter the Post Office.

Munz Platz, Konigsberg, Saturday January 11th 1919

Eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe. For the wages of sin is death.

The Kneiphof, Kohlmarkt 15 Room 2. The second is third.

Georg Hafen studied the third missive that had been delivered to Lilli. ‘When was this delivered?’

‘Around seven o’clock. Ernst heard the doorbell ring as he was locking the cellar after the coal man had made a delivery. By the time he opened the door, whoever had rung the bell had disappeared. He found the letter and brought it straight up to me. I telephoned Police Headquarters right away.’

‘Your message took a while to reach me as I was travelling to HQ from Koggen Strasse.’ Georg stared at the note. The paper was the same child’s exercise book quality. There were smudges that could be blood – or paint. The pencilled childish scrawl with large rounded letters appeared to be the work of the same hand that had penned the others, although it would have been relatively easy to copy.

Lilli sat opposite him, hunched in a chair in her study still dressed in the clothes she’d worn in the early hours. Her hair however, hung loose, dishevelled, obscuring most of her face.

Georg glanced up from the paper when she rose and reached for her coat. ‘You’re not coming on this one, Lilli.’

To his amazement she didn’t attempt to argue but returned to her chair. He reached out and brushed her hair back from her face.

‘Dear God, Lilli.’

‘What?’

‘Some of those bruises are fresh.’

The door opened. Lilli suspected Bertha had been eavesdropping, but she hadn’t expected her housekeeper to join them uninvited.

‘Dedleff woke in a bad mood when Fraulein Richter came in. He took it out on her, as he always does,’ Bertha snapped.

‘He’s gone to work?’

‘He was wearing his uniform when he left the house at five o’clock,’ Bertha confirmed. ‘As his shift starts at six I assumed that was where he was going.’

‘I’ll track him down and have a word with him.’

‘Please don’t,’ Lilli begged Georg.

‘I’m his boss …’

‘And that makes you think he’ll listen to you, Kriminaldirektor?’ Bertha snorted. ‘There’s no reasoning with the beast, drunk or sober – not that I’ve seen him sober since he returned from the war. He comes off shift drunk, drinks more schnapps until he falls asleep, wakes, drinks schnapps again and starts on Fraulein Richter the moment he sets eyes on her. Morning – noon – night – it makes no difference.’ Bertha crossed her arms across her chest.

‘Bertha, go downstairs and stay with Amalia,’ Lilli ordered.

‘Ernst is with her.’

‘She doesn’t know Ernst as well as she knows you. Go, please.’

Muttering curses and dire threats against Dedleff, Bertha reluctantly obeyed.

‘You’ll keep me informed?’ Lilli asked Georg.

‘And give the
Konigsberg Zeit
a day’s start on every press release. Don’t I always?’

‘Yes. Thank you.’

‘I saw the advertisement in the paper. You’re renting your father’s apartment on the top floor?’

‘I have no choice. My father put all our money into war bonds.’

‘Don’t blame him, Lilli. He wasn’t the only German who answered the call when the government appealed to our sense of patriotic duty. We all believed we were supporting the men at the front, not throwing our money away.’

‘I don’t blame my father, but his nursing care and medicines are expensive and the Catholic sisters expect a weekly donation to the Church of the Holy Family. I don’t begrudge paying when the church cares for those who have neither food nor a roof over their heads when we have both. But newspaper sales are falling. People haven’t even a few pfennigs for non-essentials and unfortunately like many others, we now have more money going out than coming in.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘We’ll manage if I get a tenant who can pay the rent regularly. When I moved my father to the caretaker’s apartment on the ground floor after his stroke, we both hoped it would be temporary. Given his lack of progress we’ve had to accept he isn’t going back. The rooms will deteriorate if they’re left empty.’

‘Isn’t it easier now Dedleff’s home and working?’

‘No.’

‘He doesn’t give you his wages?’

She shook her head but didn’t elaborate or say anything against Dedleff, which Georg found touching.

‘I know people who are looking for an apartment …’

‘Police officers?’ she broke in.

‘You don’t want a police officer for a tenant?’

‘Not if you want to put one in here to protect me against my own husband. I can look after myself.’

‘Your face says different, Lilli. Then there are these notes. They’ve either been written by the killer or someone who’s aware of the murders. They’ve been sent to you personally …’

‘As editor of the
Konigsberg Zeit
.’

‘They’re landing on the doormat of your home, not your office.’

‘Do you really think someone sleeping on the top floor will catch whoever it is, when Ernst who lives on the first floor hasn’t?’

‘All respect to Ernst, he only has one leg. It takes time to strap on the artificial one.’

The telephone rang. Lilli answered it and handed it to Georg. ‘It’s for you.’

He listened for a few moments, ‘I’m on my way.’

‘There’s a body in Kohlmarkt?’

He didn’t answer her question. ‘If Dedleff raises his hand to you again, telephone me.’ When she didn’t give him the assurance he was looking for, he persevered. ‘Promise?’

She raised her eyes to his. ‘So you can lock up Dedleff?’

‘If I have to do that to stop him from killing you and leaving your daughter without a mother, Lilli. Yes.’

Konigsberg, Saturday January 11th

Georg left the Richters’s for Police Headquarters. After checking  that his subordinates had everything under control, he commandeered a police sleigh to convey him to Kneiphof.

His driver circumvented the fruit and vegetable sellers who’d been denied access to their pitches by his officers who’d erected barriers at both ends of the street. Ignoring the vendors’ protests, Georg left the sleigh and walked to number 15. Dr Feiner was exiting the building. Georg had hoped that Feiner would be indisposed or away – or doing whatever it was that had had prevented him from certifying the death of the last victim.

Feiner handed him a few scribbles on a single sheet of paper. ‘Another dead police officer, unless he stole the tunic. Murdered. Same mutilation as the last I saw.’

Georg glanced at the paper and swallowed his irritation. ‘Anything else you can tell me, sir?’

‘I’m paid to certify death and diagnose cause. The man I saw in hotel room two is dead. Given the site and severity of his injuries, murdered. What more do you want me to say?’ Dr Feiner’s colour was high, even under the subdued light of the street lamp. ‘I asked you a question, Kriminaldirektor. What more do you want me to say?’