by Philip Kerr
The butler stared at me for a long moment, blinking with silent disapproval, like a cat in an empty fishmonger’s.
‘I can assure you, I do appreciate your position. There’s no need for profanity, please, sir.’
I sighed and thumbed a cigarette into my mouth.
‘I think there’s every fucking reason for profanity when someone is murdered. Profanity helps to remind us that this isn’t something that happened politely and with good manners, Kritzinger. You can polish the silver on this all you want, but a man was shot last night, and every time I put a cigarette near my mouth I can still taste his blood on my fingers. I see a lot of bodies in my line of work. Sometimes it looks like I brush it off, but “fuck” is what I still say to myself every time I see some poor bastard with a leaky hole in his chest. It helps to focus on the true profanity of what happened. Do I have to swear more loudly and twist your face in my hand while I’m doing it or are you going to heave it up? What did General Henlein say to Captain Kuttner?’
Kritzinger coloured and then glanced around nervously.
‘The General did threaten the Captain, sir.’
‘With what? A blanket bath? A kiss on the cheek. Come on, Kritzinger, I’m through dancing with you.’
‘General Henlein had taken a fancy to one of the maids, sir. Rosa. Rosa Steffel. She’s a good girl and she certainly did not encourage him. But the General had consumed a little too much alcohol.’
‘You mean he was drunk.’
‘That’s not for me to say, sir. But I do believe he was not quite himself. He made a pass at Rosa, that left the girl embarrassed, and I would have intervened had not the Captain done so first. This earned him a reprimand from General Henlein. More than just a reprimand, perhaps. He was abusive. But I recall it wasn’t just General Henlein, sir, who spoke so violently. Which is another reason, perhaps, I did not interfere, sooner. Colonel Bohme had something to say as well, and between them they straightened the unfortunate Captain’s tie for him.’
‘Give me some verbs, here, Kritzinger. What were they going to do to him when they were sober?’
‘I do believe that the General called the Captain a filthy coward and said he’d make him pay for his damned interference. Then the Colonel came in with his two pfennigs’ worth. He accused Captain Kuttner of insubordination and of being a Jew lover.’
‘What did Captain Kuttner say to that?’
‘Mostly nothing at all, sir. He just took it as you might have expected given their difference in ranks.’ Pointedly, he added, ‘The way a butler might have to take abuse from one of his employer’s more uncouth and loutish house guests.’
That made me smile. It was easy to see how Kritzinger had won his Iron Cross.
‘Colonel Bohme also mentioned something about sending Captain Kuttner to the eastern front where his cheek and insubordination would receive short shrift from his commanders. Captain Kuttner replied – and I believe I’m quoting him here – that “it would be a privilege and an honour to serve with real soldiers in a real army commanded by real generals”.’
‘He said that?’
‘Yes sir. He did.’
‘Good for him.’
‘I thought so too, sir.’
‘Thank you, Herr Kritzinger. I’m sorry if I was loutish with you.’
‘That’s all right, sir. We both of us have jobs to do.’
I glanced at my wristwatch again and saw that I had five minutes before I was supposed to see General von Eberstein in the Morning Room.
‘One more thing, Kritzinger. Did you see Captain Kuttner before he went to bed?’
‘Yes sir. It was after two. By my watch. Not this clock.’
‘How did he seem?’
‘A little depressed. And tired. Very tired.’
‘Oh?’
‘I remarked upon it. And wished him a good night.’
‘What did he say to that?’
‘He gave a bitter sort of laugh, and said that he thought he’d probably had his last good night for a long while. I confess this struck me as an unusual thing to say, and when I asked him what he meant he said that the only way he would sleep would be if he were to take some sleeping pills. Which he intended to do.’
‘So you had the impression that he hadn’t yet taken them?’
Kritzinger paused and thought about this. ‘Yes. But as I say, he certainly didn’t look like a man who needed sleeping pills.’
‘Because he looked so tired already?’
‘That’s right, sir.’
‘Did you see him drink very much last night?’
‘No. He hardly drank at all. He had a glass of beer in his hand before he went to bed, but now I come to think of it that was all I saw him drink the whole evening. He seemed to be a most abstemious sort of person, if I’m honest.’
‘Thank you. By the way I should like to have a plan of the house, with an indication of who was in each of the bedrooms. Is that possible?’
‘Yes, sir. I’ll see to it.’
‘All right, Kritzinger. That’ll be all for now.’
‘Thank you, sir. Will you be lunching with everyone, sir?’
‘I really hadn’t thought about it. But I missed breakfast and now I find I’m ravenously hungry, so yes, I will.’
SS Obergruppenführer Karl von Eberstein was chatting with Kurt Kahlo when I came into the Morning Room. He was a genial type for an aristocrat.
‘Ah, Commissar Gunther, there you are. We were beginning to think you’d forgotten me.’
He was early and he knew it, but he was also a general and I wasn’t yet ready to start contradicting him.
‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for long, sir.’
‘No, no. I was just admiring General Heydrich’s grand piano. It’s a Blüthner. Very fine.’
He was standing right in front of the instrument – which was as big and black as a Venetian gondola – and touching the keys, experimentally, like a curious child.
‘Do you play, sir?’
‘Very badly. Heydrich is the musical one. But of course it runs in that family. His father, Bruno, was something of a star at the Halle Conservatory. He was a great man and of course a great Wagnerian.’
‘You sound as if you knew him, sir.’
‘Bruno? Oh, I did. I did. I’m from Halle-an-der-Saale myself.’
‘Someone else from Halle. That’s a coincidence.’
‘Not really. My mother was Heydrich’s godmother. It was me who introduced the General to Himmler and set him on his way.’
‘Then you must feel very proud of him, sir.’
‘I do, Commissar. Very much so. He’s a credit to his country and to the whole National Socialist movement.’
‘I had no idea that you and he were so close.’
Von Eberstein came away from the piano and stood beside me in front of the fire, warming his backside with conspicuous enjoyment.
He was in his late forties. On his grey tunic was an Iron Cross first and second class, indicating he’d been given it twice, no small feat, even for an aristocrat. Still, there was a pious air about him – a bit like a hypocritical priest.
‘I like to think of him as my protégé. I’m certain he wouldn’t mind me saying that.’
The way he said this made me think that Heydrich just might mind him saying that.
‘How about Captain Kuttner?’ I asked. ‘He was from Halle, too. Did you know him well?’
‘Well enough. His father I know rather better. We were in the Army together. During the last war. Pastor Kuttner was our regimental chaplain. But for him I’m not sure I’d have fared as well as I did. He was a tremendous comfort to us all.’
‘I’m sure.’
Von Eberstein shook his head. ‘It’s a great pity that this happened. A great pity.’
‘Yes. It is, sir.’
‘And you’re quite certain it was murder and not suicide?’
‘Of course we’ll have to wait for the autopsy this afternoon to be completely sure
. But I’m more or less certain, yes.’
‘Well, you know your business, I suppose.’
‘Why do you mention suicide?’
‘Only because of what happened to Albert in Latvia. He tried to kill himself there. Or at least threatened to kill himself.’
‘Exactly what did happen? I’m still a little unclear about that.’
‘I believe he suffered a nervous breakdown brought on by the difficulty of his war assignments. I mean, of course, the evacuation of the Jews in the eastern territories. Not everyone is equal to the tasks that have been set before us as a people.’
‘I wonder if you might be a little more specific, sir. Under the circumstances I think I should know all there is to know.’
‘Yes, I agree with you, Commissar. Perhaps you should.’
Von Eberstein proceeded to explain, using words and phrases that made the whole filthy business of murdering thousands of people sound like an engineering job, or perhaps an exercise in crowd control after a large game of football. It was typical of the Nazis that they should call a spade an agrarian implement; and as I listened to one weasel word after another, I felt I wanted to slap him.
‘Responding to fundamental orders issued in Berlin, Lieutenant Kuttner was assigned the task of tactically coordinating the activities of a special detachment of SS that was made up of units of Latvian auxiliary police. Throughout the summer this same detachment carried out many extensive special actions in and around the Riga area. Principally, Kuttner’s function was to perform a rudimentary census for the purpose of apprehending communists as well as identifying provincial Jews. After the census, Jews were ordered to assemble at a given location and from there they were evacuated. It was later found that some of these evacuations were carried out with unnecessary brutality, and this seems to have occasioned feelings of guilt and depression in poor Kuttner. He started drinking heavily, and following one protracted bout of drinking he threatened a superior officer with his pistol. Subsequent to that, he tried but was prevented from shooting himself. Because of these incidents he was sent home to face a court martial.’
‘Well, that’s clear enough,’ I said and watched Kahlo cover the smile on his face with a hand and its cigarette.
‘Yes, it was an unfortunate business and might have severely blighted what was a very promising career. Albert was a brilliant young lawyer. But the Reichsführer is not an insensitive man and fully understands the problems that are sometimes provoked by these special actions. I talked it over with him at some length—’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I interrupted. ‘To clarify what you said just now. You mean you discussed Lieutenant Kuttner’s case with Reichsführer Himmler, on an individual basis?’
‘That’s right. He and I agreed that it should not be held against a man that he was too sensitive for such psychologically arduous duties. Given his legal talents it was a waste of a fine mind just to allow him to be cashiered without a second chance to redeem himself. Consequently, Heydrich agreed to take Kuttner onto his personal staff; and if he had not, then I would certainly have done so. Captain Kuttner was far too able an officer to let go.’
‘You were referring to Lieutenant Kuttner, sir. This is only a few weeks ago and now he is a Captain. Am I to understand that not only was there no court martial, but that Lieutenant Kuttner was promoted Captain upon joining General Heydrich’s staff?’
‘For reasons of administrative efficiency it’s usually best if adjutants are all of an equal rank. It saves any petty bickering.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, but Kuttner was lucky to have that kind of vitamin B. I mean, to have two patrons who can count the Reichsführer-SS as a friend.’
‘Yes. Perhaps.’
‘How long have you and Reichsführer Himmler been friends, sir?’
‘Oh, let’s see now. I joined the Party in 1922. And the SS in 1925.’
‘That explains the gold Party badge,’ observed Kahlo. ‘It seems as if you’ve been part of the movement since the very beginning, sir. If I’d had the good sense you had then I might be something better than a Criminal Assistant now. No disrespect intended, sir.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t always so resolute in my devotion to the Party.’
‘Go on, sir.’ Kahlo grinned.
‘No, really. There was a time – after the failure of the Beer Hall putsch and despairing of our cause – when I even left the Party.’
Von Eberstein wagged a finger at Kahlo.
‘So, you see, we all make mistakes. For three years I was—’
He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment.
‘Well, I was doing other things.’
‘Like what, sir?’
‘It doesn’t matter now. What matters now is that we find the person who murdered Captain Kuttner. Is that not so, Commissar?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Have you any ideas on that score?’
‘I’ve got plenty of ideas, sir. We Germans have never been short of those. But mostly what I know is limited by the terms in which the mind can think, which means it’s probably best I don’t try to explain what those ideas are. Not yet, anyway. What I can tell you is that not everyone liked the young Captain as much as you and General Heydrich. And I’m not talking about the Czechs, sir. I figure that given half a chance they’d shoot any one of us wearing a German uniform. No, I’m talking about—’
‘Yes, I know what you’re talking about.’ Von Eberstein sighed. ‘No doubt you’ve heard about that unfortunate incident in the library last night. When General Henlein spoke with unnecessary harshness to Captain Kuttner.’
‘I’m not saying it demonstrates a motive for murder, but when you’ve seen men murdered for no motive at all, as I have, it gives pause for thought. Henlein was drunk. He was armed. Clearly he didn’t like Kuttner. And he certainly had the opportunity.’
‘All of us had that, Commissar. You’ve a difficult job to do here and no mistake. But I’ve known Konrad Henlein ever since I was the Police President of Munich. And I can tell you this: he’s no murderer. Why, the man used to be a teacher in a school.’
‘What kind of teacher?’
‘A gymnastics teacher.’
‘So he’s the one,’ I said, thinking of the girl in the suite at the Imperial Hotel – the one Arianne had spoken to.
‘What?’
‘I was just thinking. The gym teacher at my school was a regular sadist. Now I come to think of it, I can’t imagine a man who was more likely to murder someone than him.’
Von Eberstein smiled. ‘I’m sure that Henlein isn’t like that. Indeed I’m confident that none of the senior ranks here in Heydrich’s own house could have committed such a heinous crime.’
But I didn’t share his confidence.
‘When this is all over, Commissar; when you have – as I’m sure you will – solved the crime, I believe we’ll find that the solution is much less remarkable than we might suppose right now. Isn’t that usually the case?’
‘I might agree with you, except for the very singular circumstances of this particular case. Most murders are simple, it’s true. Simple, sordid, violent crimes of passion, greed, or most likely alcohol. This isn’t anything like that. There appears to be no love interest here. Nothing was stolen. And if the murderer was drunk then he was an unusually thoughtful drunk who was very careful not to leave a trace of his presence in Captain Kuttner’s room. It’s only an opinion at this stage, however I have the feeling that someone is playing a game here. Possibly to embarrass General Heydrich.’
‘It’s true there are those who are jealous of Heydrich,’ admitted von Eberstein.
‘Possibly to embarrass all of you.’
‘In which case I wonder that you can write off the Czechs as possible culprits quite so quickly, Commissar. Perhaps you’ve forgotten how fond the Three Kings were of teasing the local Gestapo. One of them even left a provocative and embarrassing message in poor Fleischer’s coat pocket. And it strikes me that this is just
the sort of stunt they might pull. Especially now, when their organization is under threat. If I were you I’d be trying to examine the backgrounds of the house staff in closer detail. They may be in the SS but some of them have a German–Czech background. I wouldn’t be at all surprised if that throws up something that wasn’t found when they were checked the first time.’
