The Defeated Aristocrat (30 page)

‘Papa, Papa …’

He jerked awake to hear Pippi knocking on his bedroom door.

‘Yes,’ he mumbled groggily. Tangled in a constricting mass of sheets and blankets he felt as though he’d just closed his eyes. But when he looked at his bedside clock he realised he’d slept for three hours.

‘The kriminalrat is downstairs. He needs to see you urgently.’

‘I’ll be down as soon as I’ve dressed.’ Georg left his bed, tipped water into the bowl on the washstand and immersed his hands and face. He looked at the uniform he’d stripped off, remembered he was no longer entitled to wear it, and opened his wardrobe.

There was little choice besides his dress uniform. A green knickerbocker suit he kept for hunting and trips to the country and a plain dark blue suit he wore to weddings and funeral. He opted for the dark blue suit.

‘Are you sure I can’t get you anything, sir?’ Pippi showed Kriminalrat Dorfman into the parlour.

‘No, thank you, Frau Plewe.’

‘Please, take a seat.’

‘I prefer to stand, Frau Plewe.’

Young Peter crept to the door. ‘Mama …’

Pippi took him by the hand. ‘Go to the kitchen with your brothers and sister, Peter, and don’t annoy the cook.’

‘Yes, Mama.’ Peter bowed and clicked his heels before the kriminalrat, but Dorfman didn’t acknowledge the child’s presence.

Pippi couldn’t think of anything to say to the kriminalrat. She heard Peter ask her father’s cook questions about the strange man who’d been allowed into the ‘best room’. Most of the men she knew would have smiled at the child’s prattling, but not Kriminalrat Dorfman.

Unable to bear the tension a moment longer, she repeated, ‘Are you sure I can’t get you refreshments, Kriminalrat?’

‘The only thing I require is your father’s presence, Frau Plewe.’

‘He won’t be long, Kriminalrat Dorfman. He was sleeping. He’s been on duty for days.’

‘As have we all, Frau Plewe.’

‘Yes, of course. My husband …’

‘Kriminalobersekretar Plewe.’

‘Yes, sir.’ Pippi heard her father’s step on the stairs.

‘Please don’t let me keep you from your domestic duties, Frau Plewe.’

Relieved at being dismissed, Pippi opened the door. Her father was outside. He nodded to her, entered the room and closed the door.

‘You wanted to see me, Kriminalrat Dorfman?’

‘I’m here to take you to Headquarters, Herr Hafen. I have a vehicle waiting outside.’

The ‘Herr Hafen’ wasn’t lost on Georg or the inflection in Dorfman’s voice when he said it. ‘To assist you with the case I was investigating?’

‘No, Herr Hafen. To formally charge you with complicity in murder.’

‘Whose murder?’

‘Really, Herr Hafen. Do you have to ask?’

Georg didn’t argue. He opened the door of the parlour. Pippi was in the hall.

‘Papa …’

‘Please, fetch my coat, Pippi.’

She did as he asked.

He put it on and buttoned it. ‘I know Peter will take care of you and the children. Remember you’re my daughter and try not to worry.’ He reached for his hat and stepped outside.

Four officers who’d been waiting on the street moved either side of him and escorted him to the back of one of the secure, closed and barred police vans that was used to transport criminals.

‘Good day to you, Frau Plewe.’ The kriminalrat placed his helmet on his head and followed them.

Pippi closed the door and picked up the telephone.

Konigsberg, Sunday January 12th 1919

The footsteps had long faded from the yard before Wolf dared risk lifting a corner of the tarpaulin. The snow on the outer edge next to the lane had been trampled but the snow below their cart was pristine.

‘Cold?’ he whispered to the girl.

‘No,’ she lied. Her face was white, her lips blue.

He looked up at the sky. ‘It’ll soon be dark; when it is, we’ll leave.’

‘The police …’

‘Rest while you can. Leave everything to me.’ He pulled the tarpaulin over them again. He could feel the girl, muscles tensed, next to him.

He ignored the creeping paralysis that came with the cold, the stink of fish. The hard, cramp-inducing boards he was lying on and tried to collect his thoughts. Whatever had happened in France had been serious enough for someone – he suspected Dorfman – to order Kappel to produce a sketch of the girl, which meant she was either a witness or a criminal. Dorfman knew of the girl’s existence and wanted her in custody alongside Lilli Richter because if Lilli had been released Klein would have mentioned it to Georg.

The girl was acquainted with nuns, and he’d seen a nun put a note into the Richters’s letterbox. He suspected Dorfman was trying to cover something connected to the murders that he didn’t want Georg to investigate. With Georg relieved of his post there was no one in the police in a senior position who would dare question Dorfman’s decisions. Even if they’d been tempted, Georg’s dismissal would be reason enough to fear the loss of their own jobs.

If Dorfman was confident enough to hand out sketches of the girl to his officers, was he also having the Green Stork watched as well as the Richters’s? Georg’s house? Martin’s house in Gebaur Strasse? If Dorfman arrested the girl before he’d had a chance to talk to her – and he was too afraid of being overheard by a passer-by to question her now – he’d never find out what she knew. He trusted Ralf and Martin implicitly but what if Dorfman apprehended him and the girl before he reached them?

He toyed with the idea of heading to the wharf, stealing a boat, sailing over to The Kneiphof and asking Johanna if he and the girl could hide out in the Behn’s house. That would give him the time he needed to question the girl about her relationship with the nuns and ask her if she knew why Dorfman was looking for her. Then he remembered Dorfman trusted Johanna enough to appoint her as his agent to send money to France.

Just what was Johanna’s relationship with Dorfman? All he’d shared with her was passion. On her own admittance she’d only been interested in his body, a novel twist on men’s obsession with sex. He’d never realised women could consider sex in the same way. Was he building too much on an hour of lovemaking? Would Johanna contact Dorfman the moment he appeared at her door?

The more he considered his situation the more he realised how few people he trusted beyond Martin, Ralf, and Peter. Then he remembered there was one other person he trusted. Someone it might not occur to Dorfman to watch.

The Green Stork, Wasser Strasse, Konigsberg, Sunday January 12
th
1919

‘… Papa has been arrested and Johanna Behn said there was nothing she could do until the morning … I’ve tried telephoning the police station, and Wolf Mau, but no one would speak to me at the station and I couldn’t reach Wolf. No one seems to know where he is. Martha, Lotte, and Martin said the same as Johanna. There was nothing anyone could do until tomorrow but …’

Ralf cut ruthlessly into Pippi’s hysterical outburst. The hollow tone on the line suggested that Dorfman, or what was more likely, his cohorts, were listening in. ‘They’re right, Pippi. There’s absolutely no point in telephoning anyone …’

‘Don’t you understand,’ she cried. ‘My father’s been arrested …’

‘Kriminalrat Dorfman wouldn’t have detained your father without good reason. As for a lawyer, I’ll help you find one tomorrow.’

‘Johanna Behn said she wasn’t interested in taking his case …’

Ralf knew if Johanna has said that much she’d realised her telephone line wasn’t secure. ‘Then we’ll find a lawyer who will take your father’s case. There’s no point in bothering anyone on a Sunday, Pippi.’ He hated sounding unsympathetic but he knew of no other way of curbing Pippi’s well-intentioned but potentially catastrophic efforts on behalf of Georg Hafen. ‘Now, go, look after your children and wait. That’s all any of us can do. It’s what your father would advise.’

Distraught, hysterical, Pippi burst into tears.

‘Go and wash your face and compose yourself, Pippi. You’re no use to anyone, least of all your father, the way you are. I’ll visit you tomorrow. In the afternoon, three o’clock,’ Ralf snapped before hanging up.

Konigsberg, Sunday January 12th 1919

No one gave the old man pulling a handcart a second glance. With his head and shoulders wrapped in a tattered old tarpaulin, he bent almost double as he pushed the cart along the pavements of the old town. He stopped and looked around when he reached the secondary school at the end of Luther Strasse. There were few people about, and those appeared to be too intent on heading for home and warmth to be interested in him.

He crossed Linden Strasse and walked along Lang Strasse until he reached Koggen Strasse, the province of the largest and most exclusive stores. There, he stopped and studied his surroundings again.

Baumgarten’s five-storey edifice dominated the corner between Koggen Strasse and the Aldstadt Lang. There were even fewer people there than there’d been on Luther Strasse. He saw two police officers manning the crossroads. They’d stopped a carriage and were checking the passengers’ identity papers. They didn’t give him a second glance until he’d passed. Then one shouted, ‘Good evening, Granddad.’

He lifted his hand in acknowledgement that he’d heard, but he didn’t turn his head, move the tarpaulin or raise the hat he was wearing beneath it. He walked alongside the department store and down the alley that led to the loading bay. He pushed his cart up to the door and knocked.

The sound echoed ominously through the building. Hoping someone would still be stocktaking, and more important within hearing distance, he banged again.

‘We’re closed,’ growled a deep guttural voice.

‘Special delivery ordered by Mr Josef Baumgarten for his wedding. It will spoil if it isn’t delivered today.’

‘He said nothing to me about a special delivery.’

‘Get a message to him.’

‘Who shall I say wants him?’

Wolf though rapidly. He dare not use his name. Then he remembered the code they’d devised to warn one another of dangerous orders being handed down in the trenches.

‘The coffee will be ready soon.’

‘Pardon?’

‘He’ll understand.’

Ten freezing minutes later Wolf heard the bolts being drawn back. The door swung open. If Josef was surprised to see Wolf covered by an old tarpaulin and pushing a cart, he hid it well.

‘Come in. We’ll go up to the office, it’s warm there.’

Wolf looked at the old man who’d carried his message.

‘Saul, I’ll lock this door, you can go to your apartment.’

‘I work until seven o’clock on a Sunday, Mr Josef.’

‘I’m here, Saul. Go, keep your wife company and enjoy your coffee and her Sunday cake.’

The man still hesitated.

‘If he asks, I’ll tell my father it was my idea. My friend and I need to have a private conversation.’

The old man wandered off. Wolf waited until the door banged shut behind him before lifting the tarpaulin that covered the cart. The girl looked up at him and Josef through terrified eyes.

Josef extended his hand to the girl. ‘Thank you, Wolf, but as you know I’m about to be married. There’s no need to deliver a young lady to me.’

‘Cherie, this is a friend of mine, Josef Baumgarten. His family own this store.’

‘Come, we’ll talk in the office.’ Josef shook her hand before leading the way to an elevator. When they reached the fourth floor he showed Cherie into a private bathroom behind his father’s office. ‘You can wash off the fishy smell in there.’

She murmured, ‘Thank you,’ closed and locked the door.

Glad to be in the warm Wolf sat near the stove and told Josef about Georg being relieved of his post and the police officer with the sketch of Cherie who’d tried to arrest her.

Josef listened in silence, before offering Wolf a cigar. ‘How long have you been hiding out?’

‘Two, maybe three hours.’

‘A few things have happened in that time. Georg Hafen’s been arrested and charged with the murder of our old comrades, along with Lilli Richter. Rudi Momberg called on Johanna and told her about the charges levied against Lilli. He also told her that your brother Martin has been charged with interfering with a police investigation because he refused to leave Lilli when she was taken ill at Police Headquarters. Ralf telephoned me an hour ago from a restaurant near Johanna Behn’s to give me the news and warn me to be on my guard if the police come here. The Green Stork’s been searched and Dorfman has stationed officers outside there, your family home in Baumgarten Strasse, the Richter house and Georg Hafen’s place. They’re stopping everyone who enters or leaves. Ralf phoned from the restaurant because he thinks the police are listening to all the calls in and out of the Green Stork, Martin’s house and Behn’s. Johanna Behn and Rudi Momberg want to help Lilli, Georg, and Martin but as Dorfman won’t allow them access to “his prisoners”, there’s nothing they can do until the court opens tomorrow. Then they’ll make an application to a judge to be allowed access to their clients. Meanwhile Dorfman has officers scouring the city …’

‘For Cherie.’

‘No, Wolf, for you. I forgot to mention, Dorfman told Ralf he intends to arrest you for murder as well. He said something to Ralf about uncovering a conspiracy.’

‘What conspiracy?’

‘I’ve no idea. Personally I think the man’s taken leave of his senses. You and the girl need somewhere safe to hide out. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.’

‘And put you and your family at risk?’ Wolf broke in. ‘It’s good of you to offer, Josef, but …’

‘No “buts”, not tonight. If Dorfman had any idea of your whereabouts or the girl’s he’d be hammering on the door. I’ll get you and the girl some food and coffee. Then we can sit and think out our next move.’

‘ “Our”? You’re about to get married.’

‘Our!’ Josef reiterated. ‘I’d be mouldering in a mass grave on the Western Front if it wasn’t for you, Wolf.’ He looked up. Cherie was framed in the doorway. ‘Come in, sit next to the stove, warm yourself.’

‘I heard what you said, Mr Baumgarten.’

‘Which part?’ he asked.