As they set off in the waiting fiaker for the Köflach Bad Terminus, Berthe told them that she had learned very little from Petra Reiter, only that her girl was an artist at heart and that she had been desperate to return to Vienna.
‘Was it selfish for us to move the family here?’ Frau Reiter had said as Berthe was leaving.
Werthen in turn shared Kurt’s information with Berthe en route, letting her know that her surmise about the blackmail was accurate.
‘Von Hobarty, obviously,’ she said after considering this a moment. ‘The employer. And he must have also forced Maria Feininger with the same threats. Was she part of the blackmail scheme?’
‘The brother had never heard of her.’
‘Even so,’ Berthe reasoned, ‘whoever had Annaliese killed would probably be concerned that if one girl would blackmail him, another might also in the future.’
Gross had been surprisingly quiet during the trip. Now he broke his silence. ‘Seems extreme to me. If von Hobarty is such a renowned womanizer, why would he bother to pay extortion money to keep quiet what is already publicly assumed? A possible black baby is one thing, but dalliances with the hired help …?’
‘Just like a man,’ Berthe grumbled.
‘No offense meant,’ Gross said. ‘I too find it reprehensible someone should use their position of power to coerce sex from a young woman. But to have them so horribly murdered to cover it up? It rather beggars my imagination.’
‘Maybe it is the Bathory curse at work,’ Werthen postulated. ‘If the stories of the Blood Countess really are true, then perhaps such proclivities can be inherited.’
‘Like blue eyes or black hair?’ Berthe said with a hint of sarcasm. ‘Karl.’
‘A thought only,’ he said. ‘What is your theory?’
Berthe eyed them both coldly. ‘Von Hobarty might have peculiar tastes in sex. Something that he did not want aired in public.’
Werthen felt his face go red and saw that Gross, too, had to look away in embarrassment.
‘Well, it is a possibility, and you two do not have to become so pained and patriarchal at the suggestion. I mean, we are only animals.’
They rode on in silence until reaching the Bad Terminus. As Gross said, they needed to be sure about the man’s identity and it appeared Paulus could give them that verification.
That is why it was such a disappointment when the receptionist at the Köflach spa told them that Herr Paulus and his family were vacationing in Italy.
‘A long overdue break for him,’ the woman said. ‘He works so hard.’
The receptionist was able to secure for them the hotel where the family was staying in Rome. It proved to be of lesser quality – Werthen was unsurprised in such a show of frugality on the part of Paulus – and was not on the telephone. In the end, they sent off a telegram asking the identity of the man for whom Herr Paulus had procured the two young women. Included in this was the subtle threat of letting his wife know of the despicable services he had performed.
They had been through much together, and yet Herr Meisner had never before suggested that he and Werthen use one another’s first names. Now, however, after an afternoon caring for Frieda, Berthe’s father shocked the table.
‘Could we please dispense with formalities?’ he said, addressing his son-in-law sitting across from him in the dining room of the Hotel Daniel. ‘I know it is long overdue, but would Joseph and Karl be acceptable?’
‘Very much so,’ Werthen said.
‘Excellent,’ Herr Meisner said.
‘Most gratifying,’ Gross said.
‘And when,’ Berthe said teasingly to the criminologist, ‘are you going to suggest I call you Hanns?’
Gross did not blink. ‘When you become my daughter-in-law, Frau Meisner. I am not a great one for informality. But if you prefer, you could address me as Gross.’
Frau Juliani seemed to take great amusement at this comment; it was not altogether clear that Gross was being ironic.
‘Well, Doktor Gross,’ Herr Meisner said, ‘I assume you are going to dazzle us at any moment with your insights.’
‘What insights might those be?’ Inspector Thielman said, standing suddenly at their table.
No one had noticed him approach and the unexpected voice made the assembled sit up suddenly. Freida, mistaking his uniform, cooed, ‘Conductor.’
‘No, honey,’ Berthe said. ‘He’s not a train conductor. This is a police officer.’
‘Fissur,’ Frieda said.
Thielman did not seem amused, Werthen noted.
‘Pull up a chair, Inspector Thielman,’ Gross said.
The inspector nodded and joined them. ‘I repeat, what insights, Gross?’
‘I am not sure I have any just yet.’
‘No discoveries about Hohewart?’ Thielman said. ‘No secret enemies?’
Gross shook his head.
Herr Meisner picked that moment to join in. ‘I thought it was this von Hobarty fellow you were looking at, Karl.’
Thielman looked at Werthen. ‘Looking at him for what? Hohewart’s death? You must be insane.’
‘Actually, we had not gotten that far yet,’ Werthen said.
‘Just how far have you gotten? I knew I shouldn’t have let you talk me into giving you letters of introduction again. Magistrate Lechner will have me posted to Croatia if he finds out about this.’
No one spoke for a moment, and Thielman repeated his question. ‘How far have you gotten? Are you going to tell me that Klapper didn’t kill those people? We were there for the last victim. I shot the man.’
‘In point of fact,’ Gross said, ‘we did not see him kill Krensky. We saw him leaning over the body. Klapper’s fingerprints could not be discerned on the knife found at the scene.’
‘So Klapper didn’t kill those women?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Gross smiled at him. ‘In fact I am quite sure he did.’
‘I am glad to hear that,’ Inspector Thielman said.
‘One wonders, however,’ Gross said as the waiter was finally bringing their dinners, ‘who might have influenced him in the killings.’
Thielman’s face went red at this, but he said nothing while the plates were being handed round; everyone partaking of the nightly special, chamois lung gulasch over buckwheat grits, or Heidensterz.
Once the waiters left, Thielman said, ‘Influenced the killings. In other words you think someone was behind it all?’
‘It would appear so,’ Gross said. ‘Perhaps you would care to explain, Advokat Werthen. I have an appointment with a chamois.’
At that, Gross began tucking into his meal, not waiting for the others to join him. Werthen did as requested, filling Thielman in on the evidence they had thus far gathered, much of it seeming to give von Hobarty motive for murder.
‘And the Stiegl girl?’ the inspector asked.
‘Misdirection, just as we theorized before,’ Werthen said.
‘And Krensky?’ Thielman said. ‘From what you tell me, von Hobarty would surely not want him dead.’
‘Yes, that does present difficulties,’ Werthen said.
‘Any theories of your own?’ Gross suddenly asked, putting his fork down for a moment and taking a large quaff of Schilcher rosé, its bottle bearing a picture of a white Lipizzaner horse. Gross poured an extra glass and handed it to his former colleague.
Thielman sniffed the rosé, took a sip, and sighed. ‘Speculation only, I hope you understand.’
Gross nodded. ‘But of course. A speculative game over dinner.’
‘Perhaps Krensky’s death and Hohewart’s are connected.’
Gross brightened. ‘My thoughts exactly, Thielman.’
‘Connected?’ Berthe said. ‘How so?’
‘Well …’ Thielman rubbed his chin, finally taking off his kepi and laying it on the table. ‘If we assume von Hobarty wanted Krensky very much alive to inform the world of the Lipizzaner scandal, then of course it makes no sense he would put his creature Klapper on him. T
hus, someone else must have killed the journalist, someone with motive, someone who wanted to silence him.’
‘Hohewart,’ Berthe said.
Thielman nodded, seeming to Werthen for the first time not to be the sort of bumbling time-serving bureaucrat he had hitherto appeared to be.
‘And if Hohewart killed Krensky,’ Thielman continued, ‘that would in turn give von Hobarty motive to kill Hohewart, who was making it awfully difficult for him to get his story out.’
‘Excellent, Thielman,’ Gross said. ‘I never thought you had it in you.’
Thielman winced at this, but quickly recovered. ‘Must be my years of associating with you, Gross,’ he said with a smile. ‘But again, this is like a parlor game. Speculation only. I would advise you to let this sleeping dog remain firmly asleep. Von Hobarty has powerful friends.’
‘But inspector,’ Herr Meisner, said, ‘surely you cannot be advising Doktor Gross not to pursue this investigation simply because von Hobarty is well connected?’
Thielman finished his wine, put his kepi back on his nearly bald pate, and rose. ‘I should let you people get on with your dinner in peace,’ he said. ‘You might keep me informed about your activities, Gross.’
He did not wait for a response, but turned on his heels and left the dining room.
‘What a rather disagreeable man,’ Frau Juliani said.
Thirty-Four
The next day Gross went to the telegraph office first thing in the morning to check on word from Herr Paulus in Rome.
‘I think it is time we paid Herr von Hobarty a visit, don’t you, Werthen?’ Gross asked as he returned, telegram in hand. ‘And I think Inspector Thielman might also be interested.’
In the event, Thielman was eager to join them. ‘I was going to suggest something along those lines myself.’ He hoisted himself out of his chair at the gendarmerie office. ‘The wife not accompanying you today?’ he said to Werthen. ‘Just as well. Von Hobarty might feel constrained in front of a female.’
‘Why the change of mind?’ Werthen asked.
‘I had a chance to sleep on it,’ the inspector said. He turned to Gross, waiting at the door, a dour look on his face. ‘You know me. A stubborn old mountain goat,’ Thielman said. ‘But I come around in the end.’
As they mounted a fiaker in the main square, a tall figure wearing a backpack emerged from behind a sycamore where he had been waiting. He called to another fiaker in the square, and set out after Gross and company.
Von Hobarty was none too pleased to see the trio of men his valet ushered into the library, Werthen and Gross in front and Thielman bringing up the rear. The room was smoky as if the chimney were not drawing correctly, and the mullioned windows were partially open.
Von Hobarty sat at his desk and looked up irritably. ‘I thought we had concluded any business we might have the other day, Doktor Gross. And Thielman, I hope you are not encouraging these two with their snooping about. One would think you all had something better to do with your time.’
‘They don’t need any encouragement,’ he said and then uttered a faint laugh. ‘No, they’re eager enough without me.’
‘What do you mean by this, Thielman?’ von Hobarty said looking suddenly startled. ‘Put that thing away.’
Werthen and Gross both turned to see Thielman in back of them, his policeman’s Steyr automatic in his hand.
‘Really, Thielman …’ Werthen began but Thielman quickly wagged his gun at him and Gross.
‘Over to the desk,’ he ordered. ‘With von Hobarty.’
Werthen looked at Gross, but there was no alarm on the criminologist’s face. Rather, there was a trace of a smile on his lips.
‘Now!’ Thielman barked the command.
‘Careful, Thielman,’ Gross said. ‘The servants might hear. Then how to explain all this?’
‘Shut your mouth. The door is locked. I just saw to that. By the time anybody can get in, the three of you will be dead. You two –’ he nodded at Gross and Werthen – ‘shot by crazy von Hobarty here, and you, von Hobarty, I personally dispatched.’
‘Have you lost your wits, man?’ Von Hobarty looked more amazed than frightened.
‘Quite the contrary,’ the inspector said.
‘You won’t get away with it,’ Gross said. ‘You know that, don’t you?’
‘What is going on here?’ Werthen finally found his voice. But then things suddenly became clear to him. ‘You’re the one, aren’t you? Gross suspected you from the start. Always the inspector and never the magistrate.’
‘Close your mouth, advokat.’
‘You’re right, Werthen,’ Gross said. ‘The telegram from Paulus decided it for me. It wasn’t von Hobarty who was being blackmailed, but Hohewart, a silent partner in the spas.’
‘Paulus?’ von Hobarty said. ‘You mean my manager? The fellow’s in Italy, I thought.’
Gross nodded. ‘The wonders of modern telegraphy.’
‘And what is this about blackmail?’
‘You really should tell him, Thielman,’ Gross said.
‘You’re the clever criminologist, Gross. Let’s hear your theories.’
Gross shook his head. ‘No theories,’ he said. ‘Simple facts. I started to actively suspect you the night of Klapper’s death. You arrived late at the watch on his cabin but never bothered with an explanation. I assume that was when you were killing Krensky. And then when we tracked Klapper and found him over the already dead body of the journalist, Klapper looked up, saw me and then saw you. But it was you he was addressing when he said, “you bastard”. There was the anger of betrayal in his voice. And then you shot him. You said you were going for his legs. Not so, Thielman. You were always a good shot and that was too close to miss.’
‘Not bad, Gross. Amusing, in fact. Why not continue?’
‘It all started with Hohewart and his peculiar taste for virgins. But when one of his victims, Annaliese Reiter, turned out to have some needs and dreams of her own and began blackmailing him, he was desperate. It was imperative his wife’s powerful and well connected family not find out. They could ruin him. So he turned to you for help.’
Thielman smiled at this. ‘And why would he do that, Gross?’
‘Because you owed him. Because he had brought you in early to the Lipizzaner breeding scheme, paid you handsomely to cover his tracks with officials, I suspect. He wanted his problem taken care of and you obliged. You knew Klapper was here. The chief warder at Karlau Prison where Klapper had been held notified you that he was released in your area. I checked on that personally. And you would have remembered Klapper’s telltale birthmark at any rate. You played him. Once you discovered that I was in Styria again, that part was easy. But one thing I have not worked out. Humor me here. How did you find out I was in Graz?’
Thielman uttered another of his choking laughs. ‘That’s the beauty of it. I just saw you one day leaving the hospital in Graz. I followed you to your hotel. I found out about your son’s treatment. It was all easy. After all, I am a policeman. I am allowed to be nosy.’
‘Ahh,’ Gross said. ‘That explains it. Serendipity at work in the world.’
‘Thielman, I order you to put that gun away.’
‘You’re no longer in the ordering business, von Hobarty.’ He aimed the pistol at the man’s head.
‘But we should continue,’ Gross urged. ‘Once you discovered I was here, then killing those poor young girls became mere sport for you. You convinced the deranged Klapper that he could get even with me for sending him away to prison, and by leaving certain clues behind, disfiguring the bodies, and drafting several messages you could try to outwit me, embarrass me, compromise me, perhaps even have me convicted of the crimes. You hate me that much, do you?’
‘You are an arrogant swine, Gross. I have waited many years to tell you that.’
‘Then why not just tell me that and save all the bloodshed?’
‘Continue. I am enjoying this.’
‘So you had Klapper kill those two
unfortunate girls. The Reiter girl because she was blackmailing Hohewart and the Feininger girl simply because she might join in. Ursula Klein was an attempt to implicate Herr von Hobarty.’
‘You animal,’ von Hobarty muttered.
‘You yourself led me to that conclusion,’ Gross said to von Hobarty. ‘A casual remark from you teased my mind for days until I finally remembered what you had said. You told me that you tried to get Thielman here to take care of the problem of the Klein girl for you. Well, he did, but not in the way you were intending. Her death put you straight into our sights though as the one person to benefit. But once I knew that Thielman was also aware of the situation …’
‘Pleased with yourself, aren’t you, Gross,’ Thielman said bitterly. ‘But I had you running around in circles with those mutilations. I especially liked the two marks I left post mortem on the Klein girl’s neck. Started a real vampire craze, that did.’ Then to Werthen: ‘And you, I had you feeling like the great detective at the Stiegl crime scene.’ He let out a high laugh.
Werthen shivered at this; the man was more insane than Klapper.
‘I confess to being confused by those,’ Gross admitted. ‘The Stiegl girl was pure misdirection, of course, but then Krensky was another murder with a possible motive.’
‘That journalist threatened my retirement fund,’ Thielman said. ‘He had to be stopped. I arranged for the meet while you were waiting for Klapper to come out of his cottage on All Hallow’s Eve. An easy kill.’
‘I wondered about you being late that night while waiting for Klapper to come out of his cottage. I assume you also planted the incriminating evidence under the floorboards in Klapper’s bedroom. Simple enough to do with me in the kitchen and you alone in the bedroom at first. I also assume you carried the cigar box in that back pack you wore that night.’
Thielman nodded at this with smug satisfaction. ‘They were Klapper’s trophies, mind you. He just kept them better hidden.’
‘And Hohewart?’ Werthen said.
Thielman smiled proudly. ‘That was good, wasn’t it? Once I found out you were back in Graz,’ he said to Gross, ‘I just couldn’t help playing with you again. I led you to the conclusion of the faked suicide.’
A Matter of Breeding: a mystery set in turn-of-the-century Vienna (A Viennese Mystery) Page 25
