The Defeated Aristocrat (24 page)

‘In which case I demand I be allowed to exercise my right as her medical advisor.’

‘Which is?’

‘To remain with her.’ Martin drew himself up to his full height which was several inches shorter than his twin – and Dorfman. ‘If Lilli Richter isn’t allowed to rest, I will not answer for the consequences to her health.’

‘It’s vital I question her. And for that she needs to be awake.’

‘That will not be possible without denying Lilli Richter the medical attention she requires.’

‘I have not denied Lilli
Gluck
,’ Dorfman emphasised her surname, ‘medical attention. You are here.’

‘And requesting that I be allowed to remain with my patient.’

Irritated by the impasse, Dorfman turned his back to Martin. ‘I am sending Lilli Gluck to the cells. If you insist on staying with her, feel free to accompany her, Dr von Mau. But you, like her, will be locked behind bars.’

‘You’re sending Lilli Richter to the cells in direct contravention of my advice?’

‘Which is?’

‘That she be admitted to hospital.’

Dorfman glanced at his watch. ‘Mrs Gluck may rest in the cells for two hours. After that time she will be brought back here and I will resume questioning.’

‘She will still be sleeping.’

‘Two hours, Dr von Mau, not a minute longer. Asleep or awake, I will resume the interrogation. Take them to the cells,’ Dorfman shouted to the constables as he swept from the corridor.

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

Georg peered into the dense shadows outside the flickering circle of lamplight. ‘Can you see anything?’

‘No more than you can.’ Wolf stifled the urge to laugh. He found it ludicrous that Georg was whispering after shouting warnings of ‘Police!’ when they’d entered the building.

‘Something’s moving in that cart.’

Keeping his back to the side of a brewery waggon for protection, Wolf crept forward. He lifted his oil lamp. An enormous rat was sitting on its haunches in front of him. It stared back, mesmerized by the light. Behind it, three more were lapping beer dregs from the floor of the waggon.

‘Drunk rats,’ Wolf muttered.

‘The back corner,’ Georg prompted as another eerie groan echoed through the vast building.

‘Too loud and deep to be a rat. A cat maybe?’

‘That was no cat,’ Georg declared.

‘I’ve heard the wild cats in Lichtenhagen make some weird noises at night.’

‘Really?’

‘I’m certain the noises I heard were made by cats, not the werewolves and vampires the locals attributed them to.’ Wolf froze. ‘Did you see that?’

‘Movement. Inside the cradle on the waggon at the end of the line on the left?’

The harsh rasping groan filled the air again, eerie, unnerving.

Georg shouted. ‘Armed police. Who’s there?’

When the only reply was an even louder groan, Georg added, ‘Show yourself!’

Wolf stole to the waggon. When he reached it he lifted his lamp on to the back.

A naked man was slung above the floor of the cart. His arms and legs were roped to the wooden rail that held barrels in place. Blood had run from a wound in his groin down to the floorboards where it had puddled and solidified to ice. Wolf climbed alongside the man. The floor creaked beneath his weight, the ropes rubbed against the wood ‘groaning’ in protest.

Wolf leaned over the man’s head. It had been fastened into a similar grotesque branks to the ones he’d seen on the photographs of Dresdner and his brother-in-law. He placed his fingers on the side of the arched neck and detected a flicker of pulse.

‘Dear Lord, not another …’ Georg reached the back of the cart.

‘He’s alive. Send for a doctor.’ Wolf steadied the victim. His neck was tipped back at a precarious angle, weighed down by the branks. Keeping his grip on the man’s head, Wolf slid beneath him, supporting the man’s weight with his own body before pulling a knife from his boot and cutting through the ropes that bound the victim’s arms and legs. Only when he was certain the man would fall on him did Wolf lower him, first on to his own body then the floor of the waggon.

The man was ice cold. Wolf looked around for something to cover him. Seeing nothing, he removed his own coat and laid it over him. He was examining the wound in the victim’s groin when Georg returned.

‘Peter’s phoning for a doctor. How is he?’

‘Unconscious. He has a deep wound alongside his penis. It looks as though someone started to sever it then stopped. He’s lost a lot of blood. We need to get this bridle off.’

Georg clambered on to the driver’s seat and from there into the back of the cart. He pulled out his lock pick and set to work.

Lamp in one hand, gun in the other Peter ran up. ‘The telephone operator is contacting a doctor. Can I help?’

‘Bring me that sewing kit of Helmut’s, a bowl of water, the clean shirt and a blanket.’ Wolf exerted pressure on the severed blood vessels in the wound.

‘I didn’t know you were a doctor as well as your brother.’ Georg fought with the rusty lock.

‘On the Western Front, every soldier had to be a doctor.’

Careful not to move the man more than necessary Georg sprang the lock and unstrapped the mask from the head.

‘He would have bled to death if it wasn’t so cold.’ Wolf looked at the still white face. ‘Helmut Norde.’

‘Which explains the kit bag in the office and why my men weren’t able to find him,’ Georg declared.

‘It doesn’t explain why whoever’s doing this began to mutilate him then left him alive.’

‘Try to keep him that way, Mau. Live men can talk. I hope he can identify whoever did this.’

‘Not the one …’

‘What did he say?’ Georg asked.

‘He’s not the one,’ Helmut murmured, ‘not the one …’

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

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

Unable to rouse Dr Feiner or contact Martin, the hospital dispatched a final-year student, Aloysius Katz, to answer the police call. Georg left him with Wolf, returned to the office and sent Peter to wake the Engels. Only then did he telephone Headquarters and ask for Dorfman.

A voice he recognised as Kappel’s announced, ‘Kriminaldirektor Hafen is on the telephone for you, Kriminalrat.’

‘I’m on my way to the cells. Tell him to call back.’ Georg heard footsteps. They stopped. Dorfman’s voice broke in from a distance. ‘Are you telling me the kriminaldirektor is not in the building?’

‘No, sir. He left some time ago, sir.’

‘For where?’

‘He didn’t confide in me, sir.’

‘Wait outside for orders.’

Georg heard more footsteps and a door close before the receiver was picked up. Dorfman’s voice boomed down the line. ‘Hafen?’

‘Sir.’

‘I didn’t give you permission to leave the building.’

‘I wasn’t aware I needed your permission, sir.’

‘You report to me. I am in authority …’

‘I am still investigating officer in the murders of our officers, sir,’ Georg interrupted.

‘Answerable to me …’

‘I received a call from Kriminalobersekretar Plewe. Another note was delivered to Lilli Richter’s house in the early hours.’

Dorfman fell silent. When he next spoke, it was in more measured tones. ‘A note like the others?’

‘Apart from a few details in the content, identical, sir. Same phrasing, ink, handwriting, and paper.’

‘When exactly was it delivered?’

Georg crossed his fingers. Something he’d begun to do as a child whenever he’d told a lie. ‘Shortly before three o’clock, sir, shall I read it to you?’ Georg didn’t wait for Dorfman to answer.

‘
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. Brewer’s yard, Hoker Strasse. The sixth is third.

‘
As you see, sir, there’s a suggestion of at least six victims.’

‘I can count, Hafen. It is now forty-five minutes past four. If you received this note just after three o’clock …’

‘I didn’t pick it up until twenty minutes past three, sir.’ Georg was relieved that this time at least could be checked and verified with his police driver.

‘Why didn’t you deliver the note directly to me?’

‘Because I thought it might be a hoax, sir.’

‘You said the note was the same as the others.’

‘It is, sir, but the paper, writing and ink are commonplace. I wanted to check the details before disturbing you. I knew you’d be questioning Lilli Richter.’

‘That was my intention. The woman however, had other ideas. I take it you’re in Hoker Strasse?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘There’s another body?’

‘There’s a victim, sir. He’s injured but alive and unconscious. A doctor is in attendance.’

‘I’m on my way.’

‘The doctor will have moved the victim by the time you reach here.’

‘Keep him there until I’ve arrived, Kriminaldirektor. That’s an order.’ Dorfman ended the conversation.

Georg replaced the receiver. Peter knocked on the open door.

‘Herr Engels and his son Dolf are here, sir.’

Georg suddenly felt drained. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept. He wanted to close his eyes and allow his mind to go blank, not interview witnesses and suspects – or fence words with his superior. The stove was belching out heat, the office was warm. The sofa looked comfortable. There were even blankets …

‘Show them in, Plewe, then check the victim’s condition. Alert me the moment he wakes.’

‘Yes, sir.’

Georg realised from the way Peter walked that he was as tired as he felt.

‘Kriminaldirektor, would you please tell me what’s going on?’

‘Herr Engels,’ Georg shook the old man’s hand before taking Dolf’s. ‘Please sit down. I’ll answer your questions as soon as you’ve answered mine.’

‘You’re a doctor, sir?’ the student asked Wolf.

‘A soldier who’s seen too many shattered bodies the past few years.’ Wolf held the lamp while Katz packed and bandaged Helmut’s wound.

‘You stitched this man up better than any hospital sister.’

‘Or doctor?’ Peter joined them.

‘Everyone in the hospital knows doctors can’t compete with nurses when it comes to stitching. We have five thumbs on each hand.’

‘The kriminaldirektor asked me to check the patient’s condition.’ Peter set his lamp down in the cart next to Wolf’s.

‘If the wound remains clean and clear of infection, he’ll survive,’ Katz declared.

‘Will there be permanent damage?’ Wolf asked.

‘Difficult to say. It was a deep cut but you did a reasonable job of repairing the blood vessels, sir.’

‘So, he’ll have to wait until he tries to use his tackle before he finds out whether it’s working or not?’ Peter suggested.

‘He might not find out then if he’s the nervous sort.’ Katz tied the last bandage. ‘It doesn’t take much to put some men off their performance. I’ve done what I can. Rest and care is what’s needed to complete his recuperation.’ He returned his bloodied instruments to the tin he’d taken from his bag.

‘When can we question him?’ Peter asked.

‘He should come round from the injections I gave him in about eight to twelve hours but he’ll be tired and confused.’

‘Injections – morphine or cocaine?’ Peter guessed.

‘Morphine. A wound as deep as that is painful.’

Wolf eyed Helmut. ‘Given what he said when we found him, he should be taken somewhere secure.’

‘You can’t get more secure than a hospital with an officer at his bedside.’ The student climbed over the back of the waggon and jumped down. ‘Do you want me to send an ambulance for him?’

‘We can do it but thank you for offering.’

‘I recommend the town hospital on the Schloss Teich. It’s closest to police headquarters. Less travelling for the officers who’ll guard him. I can vouch for the doctors. Only the best work there. I’ll be there myself as soon as I get my final certificate.’

‘Thank you for your advice and thank you for coming out.’ Wolf shook his hand.

‘I’m glad he survived. I hope he helps you – the police –’ the doctor looked at Wolf, confused by his lack of uniform, ‘to find whoever did this.’

‘The police will track the villain down.’

‘This isn’t connected to the murder of those police officers, is it? I heard their genitals had been sliced off.’ When Wolf didn’t answer, he added, ‘Those murders have upset the entire city.’

‘A lot of good men are working on the case and they’ll be looking into this one too. Stay with Norde, Peter. I’ll see the doctor out.’ Wolf ushered Katz to the door. After he’d seen him into his hired carriage he went to the office where Georg was talking to the Engels.

Dolf Engels rose, clicked his heels and saluted when Wolf entered. Wolf shook his head.

‘Neither of us is in uniform any longer, Dolf.’ He offered father and son his hand. ‘The doctor’s done what he can for Norde. He suggested we send him to the city hospital.’

‘I’ll telephone headquarters and order a double guard. They can accompany the ambulance. I want to know the moment he regains consciousness. May I use your telephone, Herr Engels?’

‘Of course.’

‘Perhaps now is the time to tell you this won’t be the first time we’ve used your telephone tonight.’

‘Anything to help that poor boy, Herr Kriminaldirektor.’

‘Dolf told me he’d been sleeping in the office until last night,’ Georg revealed.

‘We had a stupid family argument over the late hours Dolf was keeping,’ Herr Engels explained.

‘So you moved into the office, Dolf?’ Wolf asked.

‘I’ve slept here for the last week,’ Dolf admitted. ‘My mother brought me breakfast here yesterday morning and persuaded me to go home.’

‘How did Helmut Norde end up here?’

Dolf explained how he’d met Helmut. ‘Helmut looked so dejected I felt sorry for him. I guessed he didn’t have anywhere to go even before he asked me to take him to the cathedral. Everyone knows the Pastor has opened a hostel for homeless servicemen there. I thought he may as well stay here. It’s warm and dry, there’s a wash room and the sofa’s quite comfortable.’