"Sure is," I said after a while.
"What is?" asked Cooper, sitting down next to me.
"You're gonna have to close this case as unsolved."
"The hell we are," said Cooper.
"I like your spirit," I said.
"We'll get him," said Cooper. "We're closing in on leads."
"Right," I said, "like a fat man's belt around his trousers."
Simms laughed. Cooper didn't.
"You're mighty cocky for a man who ain't got no jurisdiction in these parts."
"Just in a bad mood," I said. "My employer is not gonna be happy that there's no resolution."
"You're not getting any further in the case then?" asked Simms.
"No, I've figured it out and I know who's got the violin. At least I'm pretty certain. Did you speak to the husbands yet?"
I wanted to hear what Simms and Cooper had rather than give them my news. I'd done a lot of sharing earlier and I figured it was now time for them to give me some love.
"Yeah, we spoke to both husbands and they don't look good for it," admitted Simms.
"I could have saved you some time on that," I said.
"You're bragging now? Telling us you told us so," said Cooper.
"I guess so. I'm in that kind of a mood. So where to now?" I asked.
"We're gonna look into the gun like you said. See which agencies use the H&K USP," said Simms.
"I'll give you a head's up with that," I said.
"How kind," said Cooper sarcastically. "You really think you know who did this? You're gonna come in here and tell us our business."
"Something like that," I said.
I grinned at Cooper and took a sip of coffee. I was being an ass. I couldn't help it.
"Good coffee," I said, trying to be nice.
Cooper didn't say anything.
"Did your man at The Glovebox find anything?" I asked, knowing the answer.
"No. The locker was already broken open and the contents stolen. We verified it was Klee's but don't know who took it. Videotape showed someone in a hoodie," said Simms.
"When was this?" I asked.
"When was what?"
"When the locker was busted into?"
"Looks like Saturday afternoon," said Simms.
I nodded.
"That's something then," I said, trying to be encouraging.
"Sure is," said Cooper. "Like I said, we're following up leads. The person leaving in the hoodie like Simms said was carrying a violin case."
"Maybe it had a Tommy gun in it," I said, cheerfully.
Cooper frowned at me.
"So now you're saying we're looking for Al Capone," he said.
Sarcasm suited him well. He wore it like cheap cologne. It lingered on him like a stench.
"Why not? If not Al Capone, maybe fairies or jilted husbands."
Simms was smirking. I could see it out of the corner of my eye. Cooper was getting hot under the color. His skin was pinking.
"Why'd I even get this joker a coffee?" Cooper asked, looking at Simms. Simms shrugged.
"You take him too seriously," said Simms. "He's playing with you like a cat with a ball of yarn."
That was closer to the truth than anything else I'd heard in the last few days. I grinned at Simms. He winked at me.
"Alright," I said, "let's cut the crap. Have you spoken to everyone at the Philharmonic?"
Simms nodded.
"Did you speak to the caretaker?" I asked.
Simms shook his head.
"Really?"
He nodded.
"What about it?" asked Cooper. "He's only been there a couple of months and he has nothing to do with the musicians."
"Three months," I corrected him.
Cooper shrugged and looked at Simms and then nodded his head towards me. Simms nodded at me.
"What's this about?" he asked.
"It's about the killers of Klee," I said.
"That'd make a good title for a murder mystery, I reckon," said Simms.
"You're a regular couple of clowns. Is the circus in town?" I asked.
Simms laughed.
"Seriously, stop beating around the bush and tell us what we're missing," said Simms.
"The new caretaker is Martin Maurer. That sounds German to me. Moody confirms he is German, tells me that the first caretaker, a guy by the name of Wit Walczak, stops showing up for work a few months ago. So they have to hire someone new. This new guy Maurer just happens to come in at the right time. Coincidence? I don't think so."
"Now you've got something against Germans?" asked Cooper.
"Their cars," I said, "they're stealing the market from GM and Ford."
Cooper frowns, he takes me too seriously. Simms smiles though, so I look at him.
"It's the German connection. Let me put it out there really simply for you. This violin, this Blount violin as it's called, is worth north of ten million. That's not pocket change. But more than that, it's one of kind. The detail is something else, that's what I'm told. And it's old. So this violin belongs to a Jew named Anke Mueller. A German Jew. She gets sent to Mittelsteine where she dies. What happens to the violin?"
"We know what happens to the violin," said Cooper, "it belongs to Klee."
"Before that?"
Cooper was still frowning like French bulldog with a gray mustache. I reach into my shirt pocket and pull out the two folded pieces of paper. I hand them to Simms.
"I spoke to Stampley earlier in the day. He gave me these. Stampley is the guy who was kicked off the orchestra twenty some years ago so Klee could get a first violin spot."
Simms nodded.
"So I asked him if he really did put a PI on Klee back in the day. He said he did, got some really juicy intel on him at a cost. Said it cost him twenty-five grand. Those two pieces of paper you're holding are worth twenty-five grand. Not because they're old Nazi papers, but because that's the effort it took for Stampley's PI to get this info."
Simms handed the papers over to Cooper. Cooper shuffled them around and looked at them with his permanent frown.
"Tell us about these." asked Simms.
I nodded at him.
"Mueller was picked up by a squad of Germans, probably just on routine patrol looking to ferret out Jews. This squad leader, Scharführer Kaufmann, finds her and her family. This piece of paper you have there is the itemized collection of her and her families belongings when they're arrested. There's one item of interest on there. 'Stradivari-Geige'. That's the Blount violin. How do we know? Because Stampley verified the serial number on Klee's violin with the serial number on that paper."
Cooper shrugged.
"Still not sure what this violin has got to do with anything," he said.
"You want to look at the second paper," I said. "This one lists the belongings when Mueller is taken to Mittelsteine. It's dated the next day. No violin listed right?"
Cooper shrugged. I look at Simms he shrugs too.
"So you're saying someone stole the violin from Mueller?" asked Simms.
"That's exactly what I'm saying."
"Who?" asked Cooper.
"The guy whose signature is on that second paper."
Cooper looked at it and his eyes moved down to the bottom of it.
"Standartenführer Swen Boehm," said Cooper.
"Exactly."
"Exactly what? So the guy takes it and then it gets back to Klee's grandfather who is probably related to this Mueller woman," said Cooper.
"Standartenführer," I said, "is like the regiment leader. This guy Boehm, is the leader of those guards presiding over Mittelsteine. He was part of the Death's-Head Units. The guys in charge of the concentration camps."
I might as well be speaking German to Cooper and Simms.
"Right, and after the war, like I said," said Cooper, "the violin gets back to its rightful owner. I don't understand what this has to do with Klee's death and the missing violin. Someone stole it because it was valuable, that's all."
"Oh,
ye of little faith," I said, biting my tongue on stronger words.
"Let's hear him out," said Simms, looking at Cooper. "I think Anthony has more."
I nodded at Simms.
"There's lots more. You're thinking Klee got killed because he was an asshole. There were a lot of people who didn't like him. I'll give you that. That was my first impression, that he was killed by someone because he was an asshole. But that's not what got him killed."
"You're saying he was killed because of a violin?" asked Simms.
I nodded. Cooper frowns even more. Soon his eyebrows are going to be over his eyes.
"That's right. Klee was killed over a violin, because he didn't want to give it up or couldn't for whatever reason."
"So who took it then?" asked Cooper.
"The Germans," I said.
Cooper frowned and tossed his head up in the air slightly like I'm being an idiot.
"The Germans, really?"
"Yes, really. Klee wasn't a Jew. I checked."
"Then they took it to get it back to the right people," said Cooper.
"How charming," I said. "I wish I'd managed to keep my innocence through all the years I was on the job."
"Stop baiting the old man," said Simms. "Just tell us your story."
I looked at him and grinned.
"Right. Klee was killed for the violin. He was murdered by a couple of Germans who want to bring it back to the motherland where they think it belongs."
"And who are these Germans?" asked Cooper.
"They're with the German Consulate. I only know their first names."
"What are they?" asked Simms.
Simms had turned to his computer and was getting ready to type them in.
"Sven and Niklas. They're both big. Over six five the pair of them. Sven's heavy with a buzz cut and a nose like squashed pear. Niklas doesn't use his fists as much as his gun. He's got a full head of hair and he's thin."
"We can cross check this info with the DHS," said Simms. "Shouldn't take long."
"While we're waiting I'll tell you the rest of my tale. Swen Boehm, with a W this time, was Klee's grandfather. He stole the violin from Mueller when he found it in her possession when she was brought into the concentration camp. He later gave it to Klee. The thing is, it's not Klee's, and it doesn't belong to the Germans either."
"Are you saying they got it?" asked Simms.
"No, but that's why they killed him. They were looking for it and probably startled Klee when they barged into his apartment on Friday morning. I think Sven wanted to let his fists do the talking but instead Niklas uses his H&K before they can get the info out of him. This is the same Niklas who almost shot me if it wasn't for the maintenance guy at the Bon Vivant Views. Anyway, they had come back looking for the whereabouts of the violin. They didn't know by then that it had been stolen. That's how I know they didn't get it."
"Who did get it then?" asked Cooper.
"Can't say at the moment. But I'll let you know when I can."
"What do you mean you can't say?" asked Cooper.
"I'm okay with the violin finding its rightful home."
"Which is?" asked Cooper.
"The relatives of Anke Mueller. When I'm certain it'll get to them safely I'll let you know who got it. Doesn't matter anyway. Like I said, this is gonna be unsolved in your books."
Simms looked up at the computer screen and then swiveled it towards me. The pictures of Sven and Niklas looked at me like mug shots.
"These the guys?" asked Simms.
I nodded.
"Sven Blau and Nikolas Austerlitz, security attachés to the German diplomat," said Simms.
Cooper leaned in to take a look at the two men.
"Jesus, they do have immunity," he said.
"That's what I told you."
"You've told us a lot of things," said Cooper. "How do you know it's them?"
"Because they tried to kill me and they match the description of anyone who saw the two men who were following Klee over the last several weeks. I bet the caretaker is linked to them too. Figured he could easily get the violin out of the safe in the orchestral basement where Klee kept it up until Klee started getting followed. So they had to use other means."
"So they killed him just to get his violin?" asked Cooper.
"Didn't send their best guys to do it. Maybe they got interrupted, maybe they didn't want the collateral. I don't know. But dollars for strippers they did it. Though you'll probably never know for certain."
"How so?" asked Cooper.
"Because I doubt you'll get a warrant for their guns to test them, and that'll prove it. And no doubt the GSR is no longer on their hands if you can get them to consent to that even."
"Maybe it wasn't them," said Cooper.
"Yeah, and maybe Santa's gonna leave me a present all wrapped up in lingerie this season," I said. "Who else do you think did it? The husbands as you figure it out didn't do it."
"Maybe this Stampley guy. He had a lot to lose," said Cooper.
"And maybe you'll spend the next few weeks exhausting all your leads and come up bupkis. That's alright with me. You knock yourself out. But you won't find anyone to put it on."
Cooper looked at Simms and Simms shrugged.
"I think he's right. I like it," said Simms.
"In any event I'm pretty sure I can get justice to prevail," I said.
"How so?" asked Simms.
"The people who got a hold of the violin owe me a solid," I said.
"How do you figure that?" asked Simms.
"Because I haven't told you who they are. If I did you could likely stop the violin from being shipped out of here. From where I sit, sometimes when you can't get legal justice you can get street justice. And in my books that works out just as good."
"I dunno," said Cooper, "maybe I'll have a go at them. Bring them in for questioning and see what I can get them to say."
I smiled at him.
"Always the optimist," I said.
"Could be done," he answered.
"Could be, if that's how you want to play it. But you've got no proof."
"Got enough for a warrant," he said.
"How do you figure that?" I asked.
"Like you said, they match the descriptions of the guys who've been following Klee around for the last while. I reckon I can bring in someone who'll recognize these mug shots, and put them at the Bon Vivant Views around the time of Klee's death. That should be enough to bring them."
"And if they don't want to, then what? You can't get a warrant," I said.
Simms nodded.
"It's true, Coop. I don't see how we're gonna get them to turn on each other or even admit to anything. They're probably pros and even if they're not, they're not gonna come in and answer questions. Especially if they did it," said Simms.
"What he said," I said.
"Then we keep digging and we keep looking for evidence until we find enough to convince a DA to lay charges," said Cooper.
I chuckled. Cooper looked at me out of a hairy eyeball.
"I doubt you'll find anything else you haven't found already, and even if you do good luck with finding a DA who'll do that for you. And likely by then, they'll be long gone out of the country," I said.
Simms nodded at Cooper and then shrugged. He turned to look at me.
"How did you know these guys were with the German Consulate?" he asked.
"That wasn't too hard," I said. "Jamal told me he saw a couple of guys sticking out like sore thumbs when he last met Klee. Even got a partial plate on it. I knew the plate was on a consular vehicle by the first bit, and it included the country code."
Simms upturned his mouth and nodded.
"That's good work," he said.
I laughed.
"Yeah, it would have been, until I spoke to the guy at Klee's apartment and he told me these two clowns came in and said they were from the German Consulate on national security issues. That sort of gave it away."
"Still," said Simms, "yo
u knew before then."
I nodded. I had.
"So what now?" Simms asked.
"Now I leave you gentle detectives to figure out how you're gonna close this mess. As for me, my work is done. I've gotta go collect my paycheck and give Ms. Varnier the bad news that she might not get the justice she wants."
"It doesn't bother you that these two are gonna get away with it?" asked Cooper.
I looked over at him. He wasn't frowning. He looked tired, like a man who'd just woken up after a bender.
"No, for a couple of reasons. Firstly, this guy Klee was an ass. Not that he deserved to get killed for it, but still, it's hard to have a lot of empathy for such a huge asshole. Secondly, and more importantly, I think I can get justice served, street style, and that'll suit me just fine."
"But Varnier won't like it then?" asked Simms.
"We'll see. I don't think it's the kinda justice she was hoping for. But even billionaires can't be choosers in a case like this. You can keep the papers for your records."
Cooper still had them folded in his hand like a used hankie he didn't know what to do with.
Simms got up.
"I'll walk you out," he said.
I put on my hat and followed him out of the office. Cooper sat there looking at the papers in his hand. He didn't say anything to me, and I didn't care.
"Don't mind Coop," said Simms, when we were out in the main courtyard, "he takes losses like these pretty hard and we've had a few too many lately."
I nodded. I didn't hold it against him. I knew what it was like even though I'd never lost a case, but sometimes the DA had dropped the ball. It hurt like a scraped knuckle across an oil filter.
"Hey," said Simms, "if you ever want back on the job. Think about us."
I grinned at him.
"Thanks, Simms, a guy like you could make a guy like me change my mind about that. But here's the thing. I don't play well with others, especially brass and cop shops got too much brass and not enough leather."
Simms nodded.
"I know what you mean. The politics is brutal."
We shook hands and I left him standing there watching my back as I left. I walked back the same way I came. Only this time I saw a small stringy kid hit a home run and run through four bases in a baseball diamond on the Great Lawn. Ain't life grand?
Anthony Carrick Hardboiled Murder Mysteries: Box Set (Books 1 - 3) Page 49
