I live in Lothringerstrasse in Munich. I lodge in a small room there. It’s big enough for me, and now I’m out of work I’m thankful that I can afford it at all. The unemployment benefit isn’t much, and times are hard. My landlady Frau Lederer is a widow. She told me her husband was with the post office. Her pension is only small, so she rents a room to a lodger.
Yesterday morning, she asked me if I’d look after her cousin Frau Hertl from Wolnzach, because Frau Hertl doesn’t know her way around Munich very well, and I’d probably have time now that I’m out of work. ‘You’d be doing me a great favour, Herr Feichtinger.’
Frau Hertl was going to search for her daughter, my landlady said. The girl was here in Munich. She’d come to look for a job, like so many young girls, and she hadn’t sent any word home since arriving. Her mother was worried, so she was coming to Munich to try to find her. I said I’d be happy to help her look for the girl. I had no other plans that day.
Frau Hertl arrived at Frau Lederer’s apartment at nine-thirty in the morning. It was Wednesday 14 October, 1931. She’d come straight from the station, she told me later.
She and Frau Lederer talked for a little while in the apartment. I wasn’t present, they were both sitting at the kitchen table. When I came in they stopped talking, and Frau Lederer introduced me to Frau Hertl. I didn’t want to stand around, so I said that if she didn’t mind we’d start at once. That was fine for Frau Hertl, and so we set off together. I was carrying a case that Frau Lederer had given her cousin. The girl Kathie had left it with her, and never came back for it, so we went off together. I asked her where she would like to go first.
‘To Number 13 Ickstattstrasse.’ She wanted to call on a Frau Bösl there. She’d heard that her daughter had been at Ickstattstrasse, she said. Frau Bösl knew Kathie from the hop-picking. She came to Wolnzach every year to pick hops.
So I took her to the address she’d given me. A lady with a small child opened the door. I assume it was Frau Bösl, because there wasn’t anyone else in the apartment and that was the name on the plate by the door. She took us into the kitchen. Frau Hertl and me. I didn’t want to be nosy, so I stayed in the background.
Frau Hertl asked straight away if her daughter Kathie had been here in Ickstattstrasse, and whether Frau Bösl had any idea where she was now. Yes, she’d been here, young Kathie had. But only for two days. She’d been looking for a job in those two days, but she hadn’t found anything. It was very hard to find a job these days. And then Kathie had moved in with an acquaintance. She couldn’t have stayed here any longer, not in this little apartment.
The child sat on Frau Bösl’s lap all the time she was talking to Frau Hertl, munching a piece of brown bread and staring at the strange lady. What was the name of Frau Bösl’s acquaintance, Frau Hertl asked, and where could she find her?
The acquaintance’s name was Mitzi Zimmermann. ‘Mitzi lives in Mariahilfplatz. Number 29. But you could always ask in Gruftstrasse too. Near the arch. I don’t know what number.’ Because the woman who lives in Gruftstrasse goes to Wolnzach for the hop-picking every year too. Perhaps she knows Kathie, says Frau Bösl, and then perhaps can tell us her whereabouts. ‘She could have gone there.’ But there was no point in going to Gruftstrasse before evening, because the woman was out all day.
So Frau Hertl thanked Frau Bösl and asked if she owed her anything for giving Kathie board and lodging in her apartment for two days. But Frau Bösl waved that aside and said it was all right.
When there was no more to discuss, we stood up and said goodbye. We were on the stairs when Frau Bösl came after us. ‘Kathie left her umbrella with me, and she didn’t come back for it.’ She gave Frau Hertl the umbrella, and before she could say any more Frau Bösl ran back into her apartment because the child in there had begun crying. Frau Hertl went downstairs carrying the umbrella, and I followed her. Then we went on to Mariahilfplatz and Mitzi Zimmermann.
We found Mitzi Zimmermann in her apartment. She wasn’t alone, there was a man in the apartment too. I think he was Mitzi’s husband, but I don’t know, because he didn’t introduce himself. He seemed very much at home there in Mitzi’s place. Then we sat on the sofa in the kitchen living-room, Frau Hertl and I. With Mitzi and the man opposite us. He was very dark-haired, and he did all the talking. Mitzi sat beside him and said hardly anything. Yes, said the black-haired man, Kathie had stayed here for two days. ‘Until Saturday evening. Then she left. She said she was going to a relation in Pasing. It was Pasing she said, wasn’t it?’ He nudged Mitzi Zimmermann, dug his elbow into her ribs, and she nodded and agreed, ‘Yes, Pasing, that’s what she said.’
Frau Hertl couldn’t believe it, because they had no relations in Pasing, nowhere Kathie could have gone. ‘There aren’t any Hertls in Munich except in Denning. None in Pasing. Did Kathie really say Pasing?’
Mitzi Zimmermann discussed it with the black-haired man and after a while they agreed yes, it could have been Denning, but they couldn’t be sure of it. After that Mitzi Zimmermann just sat there in silence again.
Frau Hertl said she had the address of the Denning Hertls in her handbag, and couldn’t Mitzi or the gentleman tell her any more about her daughter? Who had she been mixing with, where had she been going while she stayed here with them? After all, she’d stayed there for two days, she must have said something about it. ‘Or perhaps you saw my Kathie with someone?’ They couldn’t give her any name or address to help her further.
They’d seen her necking with a fellow, a driver he was. She was wild about him. From what he’d seen, said the black-haired man, he’d guess there was something going on between them. ‘It’d be a shame if the girl fell into the wrong hands. She’s a pretty girl, there’s many a pretty girl has come to grief before now.’
Frau Hertl asked Mitzi whether Kathie might be with this driver, and did she know his name and address? She begged her to help her find her daughter. Mitzi Zimmermann only swore. ‘Good Christ, how in hell would I know the address?’
Frau Hertl wasn’t giving up, she asked her again and again. Maybe Kathie really had told Mitzi Zimmermann more in the two days she stayed with them, and they just couldn’t remember it. Please would they think again? She was so worried about her daughter.
‘There’s nothing more to talk about. Kathie wasn’t here long, and she didn’t tell us anything. I didn’t ask any questions either. I really can’t help you.’ There was only Kathie’s little black handbag, she’d left that here, Mitzi had only just remembered it. She got up and went into the next room. It would be on the window sill just where Kathie left it, she said.
Mitzi Zimmermann gave the handbag to Frau Hertl, who opened it and looked inside at once. She was very surprised, because Kathie’s belt was in the handbag. The belt that went with her dress. Apart from her belt the bag contained only a couple of scraps of paper. Nothing to help us any further.
Even as she left, Frau Hertl turned to Mitzi and impressed it on her that if the child, if her Kathie came back, she should go to Frau Lederer, and she would get money there for the journey home. She had seen to that. Mitzi mustn’t forget. She was to tell Kathie to come back home.
Then we went on from Mariahilfplatz to the tram stop in Ludwigstrasse. The poor woman seemed very downcast. I felt so sorry for her, I didn’t know what to do, how to comfort her. On the way to the tram stop she told me she thought her daughter had been to an inn. An acquaintance from Wolnzach had heard she’d been seen there and told her about it. The place was known as Soller’s, and she’d like to go to it. She didn’t want to leave any stone unturned. Did I know where the inn was, and had I ever been to it myself?
So I went to Soller’s with her. First we looked in at the Metzgerbräu beer cellar. Kathie’s mother asked about her there too, but we didn’t find her or anyone who could help us.
We had no luck at Soller’s either. No one there had seen Kathie.
Now we didn’t know where else to look for Kathie, so we went to the Grüner Hof inn. Frau Hertl had le
ft her luggage there, and we left her daughter’s case full of clothes, which we’d been carrying around with us all this time. We left the umbrella and the handbag there too. Then we went to the railway station.
Frau Hertl said the man she knew in Wolnzach had also told her that he’d seen Kathie here at the station last Sunday, and she seemed to be waiting for every train coming in. Kathie must have been there almost all day, because Frau Hertl’s friend had seen her when he arrived, and then later, when he took the train home, she was still there.
On the way to the station Frau Hertl said she had to do a little shopping here in Munich. Could I go with her, she asked, so that she wouldn’t be all alone? She didn’t want to go on her own. So I went with her.
I accompanied her from the station to Paul-Heyse-Strasse. Frau Hertl went into a draper’s shop there. Hofmann is the name of the business. She wanted to buy some dress material. I waited for her outside the shop. After about half an hour she came out again, and said the woman in the shop had told her Kathie had been there, and Frau Hofmann thought Kathie was working as a maid for a lawyer now. She, Frau Hofmann, had given Kathie the address herself. The lawyer’s wife was a good customer of hers. So Frau Hertl was sure that the girl who went into the shop was Kathie. The Hertl family had been buying fabric from the Hofmann shop for years, and the girl had mentioned her name too. That gave Frau Hertl hope, and Frau Hofmann had been kind enough to telephone the lawyer and ask after Kathie. But she’d never been there.
Then I went back to the Grüner Hof with Frau Hertl. We took the dress material she had bought there, and put it with the rest of her luggage. After that I went with her to the police station that deals with such things, and she reported Kathie missing.
I can’t say any more. I’ve already told you all I can remember.
The passer-by, a woman, will tell the police later that the girl was standing with her back to the rotunda grating. She was looking in the direction of Sonnenstrasse. She, the passer-by herself, was standing at the tram stop. First she didn’t notice the girl at all. Only when she heard her voice did she notice, and look her way.
‘I’ve only been in Munich for a week.’
The girl was small, slightly plump. Sixteen or maybe eighteen years old, wearing a green coat. Later, the woman would recognize the coat at once, at the police station.
‘I’m not going with you. I don’t want to.’
The girl’s hat, more of a cap really, didn’t hide her face. There was something pale round the hat, maybe a ribbon. The passer-by couldn’t tell in the light from the street lamp; the couple were standing outside the place where the light fell. But she was able to say, later, that there had been something light round the girl’s face. However, she couldn’t confirm with complete certainty that the hat they showed her was the one the girl had been wearing.
‘I’m new here. I don’t know my way around.’
The man leaned a little way over to the girl as he talked to her, in a muted voice that no one else could hear. You could guess at what he was saying only from the way he moved and held himself.
Curious now, the passer-by watched the couple. The man was twenty-five, maybe younger. ‘He was dressed like a driver, plus-fours, dark socks, a leather jacket, the kind of thing truck drivers wear.’
The girl’s voice dropped too. The passer-by heard only a little laugh. When the tram came she got on it. As she boarded the tram, she looked at the couple.
The girl had taken the man’s arm. They were walking quickly towards the hospital complex. The woman watched until she lost sight of them.
Interrogation of Josef Kalteis, continued
– What do I like to do best? I like cycling around. I look at the countryside. And the women too, of course.
– Yes, I fancy women. What kind of a man would I be if I didn’t look at them?
– If I haven’t been out of doors in a long time I can’t stand it no more. I have to get out, I have to walk around, or even better ride my bike. I get quite worked up then, all restless. Everything seems so cramped, I have to get out of doors.
– Well, then I ride my bike about and look at the women. I like brunettes best, smart brunettes. And I like a nice fat arse. I don’t fancy them too thin. No, I don’t fancy Skinny Lizzies at all. What does a girl need to have? Nice knockers, yes, but a good arse even more than nice knockers. So’s you’ve got a good handful to hold on to.
– When you’re cycling, well, all the women are coming your way. Their skirts keep riding up as they cycle along. Then you can see their undies. I like that, nothing wrong with that, is there? They do it on purpose. They dress for cycling specially so as their skirts will ride up and anyone can see their undies. Their undies and the way their thighs rub together, that gets me all worked up. But that’s what they want, they want it. You take my word, they want you to grab them good and hard. They like it, that’s what women want.
– Sometimes I follow one on my bike. Look at her arse rubbing back and forth on the saddle, think how it’d be if she was sitting on top of me. Rubbing back and forth on me.
– Just cuddling and that, no, it don’t do anything for me, I like a girl to fight back, twist and turn. It’s only when I have to hold her good and hard with all my strength I really like it. Having to grab her and hold her there. That’s what women want.
– My wife, she don’t really enjoy it till it gets a bit rough. They want to be a bit scared, that’s what makes it fun. You take my word for it.
(The public prosecutor places a brown cardboard box on the table in front of Kalteis. He takes a photograph out of the box.)
– I never seen that girl.
– Why are you showing me this photo? Why put the girl’s picture in front of me? I never seen the girl in my life. I can’t remember this girl.
– What do you mean, some woman saw me with the girl? Well, could be I saw her once. Let’s have another look at the photo. What did you say she’s called? Hertl? I can’t remember.
– Yes, could be I once met a girl at the Oktoberfest what looked something like this. What’s her first name, then? Kathie?
– You can always meet girls on the Wiesn. Maybe I did once meet a Kathie on the Wiesn.
– OK, I admit I knew the girl. I met her at the Oktoberfest.
– She was standing by the roundabout. Smiled at me. I liked her right away. So I went over to her and talked to her. Then we went on the chairoplane together and the ghost train. I put my arm round her in the ghost train. She didn’t mind. She went along with me right away, she was willing. That’s how it seemed to me, she fancied it. After a while I asked if she liked nature, if she’d go out with me, somewhere out of Munich.
– I don’t remember when, not now. I think it was still light when I asked her. Can’t remember now.
– We left the Wiesn, we went for a walk. Went through the city. I don’t know all the streets by name, can’t tell you exactly where. We went to Thalkirchen.
– Then she wanted a cuddle while we was walking. That don’t interest me much, to be honest, cuddling a girl. I don’t get nothing out of it. Never did interest me. But I went along with her just because I wanted to have it off with her.
– I wanted to have it off, that’s why we went further out.
– Nothing wrong with that, is there? Nothing wrong with meeting a girl at the Oktoberfest and going out of town to have it off with her. What’s the matter with that?
– The girl knew what I wanted or she wouldn’t of come with me. We cuddled a bit because that’s what she fancied. Yes, then I grabbed her a bit harder. That’s what I fancy myself, and she liked it too.
– That’s what spices it up for me, it has to be a bit rough, a bit of violence in it. If the girl goes all coy, if she resists …
– She liked it, she went along with me. Went along with me fucking her. Afterwards I’ll have taken her back to Munich. What else would I have done?
(The public prosecutor puts newspaper cuttings about the murder of Katharina
Hertl in front of Kalteis. Newspaper cuttings found in the suspect’s apartment.)
– What’s this about? I kept those newspaper stories because I knew the girl. And then you read next day about how she’s dead. You keep these things, that’s only natural. Anyone would do it, bet you’d do it too!
– Why didn’t I say what I knew? Can’t remember no more. I guess I was scared you’d pin it on me.
(The public prosecutor places a mummified piece of tissue with hair on it in front of Kalteis. It was found with the newspaper story and other such finds in an old stove in the suspect’s loft.)
– What’s that? What’s that supposed to be?
– I’ve no idea what it is.
(The public prosecutor tells Kalteis that on forensic examination the find has proved to be part of a vulva with the pubic hair still on it. According to the forensic investigators, the mummified piece of tissue can be related to a series of other such finds taken from dead women. In addition, Kalteis’s fingerprints are on the container in which the item was found.)
– Where did you get all this? What’s this all about?
(Kalteis looks incredulously at the finds. The public prosecutor describes precisely where they were found, in an old disused stove in the loft belonging to Kalteis’s apartment. The public prosecutor goes on to ask the suspect why he cut the girl’s vulva out while she was still alive.)
– I never did! That’s a lie! She was dead! Dead! Listen, she was dead!
– Listen, will you help me if I tell you everything? Will you help me? It wasn’t me, it’s something driving me. I can’t do nothing about it, it makes me do things, I have to go out, I have to find something …I can’t resist it. Will you help me?
– I went out with that girl. She just cuddled. That don’t do a thing for me.
– I didn’t feel nothing. So I took her where we wouldn’t be disturbed. Out there you can go up hill and down dale, there’s plenty of places you can be alone.
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