by Richard Lord
“Yes, that’s the other possibility,” the good doctor responded.
“Anything else we should know?”
“Top of the dress was torn. Ripped apart actually. We suspect that was mainly necessitated by the act of strangling.” Gressler then shrugged. “Oh, and semen in the vaginal tract.”
“Any signs of rape?”
“None. None whatsoever.”
Dörfner nodded brusquely this time. “So she was one of Vienna’s horizontal ballet artists, hmm?”
The term puzzled Gressler. Even though he’d been working almost exclusively with police over the last four years, he’d never heard that one. “Excuse me?”
“A streetwalker. A lady of the night. A whore.”
Gressler shrugged. He knew as a doctor he wasn’t supposed to make such judgments, though he made them all the time in that corner of his mind where science was carefully excluded.
“I wouldn’t expect to see a lady like this at one of our exclusive winter balls.”
“No, I wouldn’t either,” Dörfner added.
Stebbel picked it up from there. “So, Herr Doktor, any idea of a … possible motive?”
“That’s your sphere, isn’t it, gentlemen?”
“Indeed it is. But I was just asking if you’d … care to speculate as to a motive.” Gressler thought for a moment, then gave his head a slight shake, as if to say he hadn’t thought about it enough.
“Robbery?”
Gressler took a deep breath. “If it was robbery, the criminal wasn’t very good at it. He left those rings on her hand. I’m no jeweler or anything, but they looked like they were very valuable.”
“Rings? She was wearing rings?”
“Three. And let me tell you, two of those stones would choke a medium-sized pooch. The one was this red beauty; you know, that one that shines a lot.”
Dörfner jumped in here. “Is that a ruby you’re talking about?”
“Maybe. Like I said, I’m no expert in that field. Thanks be to God, my wife has never developed a taste for anything too expensive in the realm of jewelry.” He thought for a moment. “Maybe that’s why I married her.”
“So where are these rings? You have them here?”
“Up in your own department, gentlemen. Where they were taken early this morning.”
“Of course. That’s where they would be.”
The doctor smiled. “And where they should be.”
Leaving the morgue, they headed for the paternoster lift.
(Not a few people in the police headquarters building thought it appropriate that the paternoster went down to the morgue. The paternoster was an open carriage elevator system that travelled continuously up and down. It stopped for no man – and no woman – but defied those using it to hop on as it drew even with their floor and then to hop off again as they reached their destination floor.
For older people moving within a tall building – or someone like Dörfner, with his one bad leg – the paternoster was a challenge that involved serious risk every time they boarded or left the lift.)
Stebbel helped his larger partner as they climbed into the paternoster to take them back up to the fourth floor. Stebbel was picking at the scraps of evidence while Dörfner was already halfway to solving the case.
“OK, so we know that she’s a whore.”
Stebbel emerged from the cocoon of his thought. “That’s just one of the things we don’t know yet.”
“Were you listening when I read out the foot soldiers’ report?”
“Ja, but there were some things that … don’t quite fit together.”
“Like what?”
At that point, they were just being pulled into the fourth floor, so they braced themselves and hopped off. Stebbel again helped Dörfner because of his bad leg.
“Well, for one thing, there was the semen in the vaginal tract. Prostitutes usually don’t take a load from the last customer back onto the street. They … douche thoroughly between clients so that there’s no … residue left.”
Dörfner gave his signature guffaw. “What, you hang around to watch them cleaning up afterwards? I always settle up for whatever extras we’ve had, slap the money down and get out quick as I can.”
Stebbel responded with an uncomfortable smile, showing Dörfner once again that he did not share his humor. “Just joking, you know; just joking.”
Stebbel nodded. “Yes, of course. But I think the presence of semen makes it less likely that she was a prostitute.”
“Well, we’ll see. My bet is that she was doing the streets and offered her wares to the wrong guy.”
By this time, they had reached the evidence depot. They knocked once, then stepped in just before the voice within invited them to do so. They told the head of the depot what they had come for, and minutes later they were opening the brown packet with three rings squeezed inside it. As they looked at the first ring, they were surprised, and the second one was even more surprising.
“That, Herr Colleague, is a ruby,” Dörfner said in a near gasp.
“It certainly is.”
“A generous chunk of rock it is, too.” Stebbel nodded. “What’s this other one?”
“An emerald, I believe. Handsome, isn’t it? Not as prized as the ruby, but few girls would turn one down.”
“No.”
“And this third one’s no piece of junk either.” Dörfner held up a nicely ornamented, unstoned gold ring.
“So where do you think a prostitute would get jewelry like this?”
“Where? From a wealthy client, of course. Or three wealthy clients, I don’t know. A woman who looked like that, she probably had no shortage of enthusiastic customers.”
“Yes, that’s the other thing that doesn’t fit for me. A woman that attractive wouldn’t be prowling the streets, she’d be working at a high-class brothel. She’d have the clients lining up to see her.”
“Okay, so she maybe just arrived recently from the provinces. Was just getting the … lay of the land, as it were.”
Stebbel nodded but was only half-listening. Most of his attention was fixed on one of the rings, the one with no stone but rich ornamentation. Suddenly, a sharp smile filled his face. “Yes! Alright, we just got our first real break.”
“What’s that?”
“Galinsky.
“What??”
He turned back to Dörfner and showed him something in the ring’s ornamentation. “See that, the way the lines curl: there’s an L, then an A, and there’s your G.”
“Yes??”
“That stands for Leopold Albert Galinsky. The man who made these rings. Head man at Galinsky Gmbh, one of the city’s top jewelers. The real craftsmen jewelers always try to initial their work in an unobtrusive way. Comme ça.”
“Anyway, we have got ourselves a lead. Now we need to speak to Herr Galinsky and see if he has any recollection of who these rings once belonged to. Or maybe who bought them.”
“Right. Yes. So, should we bring him in?”
“Bring him in?”
“Yeah, have him brought in here. For the interrogation. Always knocks them off balance when they have to come in here. He might spill something he wouldn’t otherwise.”
“We’re not interrogating him, Karl-Heinz. He’s not a suspect. He’s just an honest businessman who might be able to help us out significantly here. There’s no need to put the gentleman on the defensive.”
“You sure about that?”
“Quite. Look, we’ll go over there to the Galinsky shop and speak with him on his home ground. If he can tell us anything, he will, I’m sure. He’s a respected businessman and he wouldn’t want to tarnish his reputation by refusing to cooperate with police investigators. Especially on a case like this.”
“Alright, I see your point. Let’s just hope that he doesn’t choose to protect one of his clients who also just happens to be Madame X’s client.”
Stebbel chided him with his gaze. “If he tries to throw up a smokescreen, we’ll know, won’t
we?”
“Yes, of course we will.”
The two investigators then made the arrangements to take the rings out, signed the removal-of-evidence papers and made an appointment via telephone to see Herr Leopold Galinsky.
Chapter 5
Upon their arrival at the jewelry shop, the two inspectors were greeted at the door by a well-dressed shop assistant. When they explained the purpose of their visit, the assistant nodded and went to fetch his boss.
Leopold Galinsky emerged from the back room less than a minute later. He was still in shirtsleeves as he stepped through the curtain, but he had a dress jacket clutched in his right hand. He stopped for a moment to pull on the jacket before proceeding to where the two inspectors stood. As he walked, he smoothed out his jacket and his tie to produce the proper appearance.
Galinsky had obviously been expecting the two visitors. He wore a friendly but cautious look as he offered his hand and greeted them with a melodious ‘Servus’.
“So, how can I help you, gentleman?”
“Actually, we were hoping that you could give us some assistance identifying some items that were purchased here at your shop.” Dörfner then opened the police department packet and carefully poured out the three rings.
“Would you happen to recognize any of these rings?”
Galinsky peered down at the three pieces on the counter for no more than five seconds before picking up the ruby ring. He then inspected it for another three seconds.
“This one certainly. It belongs to Frau von Klettenburg.”
“Excuse me?”
Galinsky looked back up. “Frau Anneliese von Klettenburg.” He then turned to another assistant standing at attention a short distance away. “Franzl, could you please fetch the book with the von Klettenburg accounts. It’s the dark green book on the far right shelf.”
“Jawohl, Herr Galinsky,” the assistant replied before disappearing into the back room.
Stebbel was still trying to line up that name with a swirl of vague associations. “Von Klettenburg … as in …?”
“The wife of Karsten von Klettenburg. The privy counselor.”
“Privy counselor?” Dörfner had a bit of smugness knocked out of him on hearing that this case might have a link back to the imperial palace.
“Not to forget, also one of our city’s richest citizens. A big industrialist. Though most famous, I think, as the head of the Vienna Trust Bank.”
“Absolutely stinking rich, in other words,” said Dörfner.
“If you care to phrase it that way. Personally, I find that wealth has a rather sweet fragrance.” Just then, the assistant re-emerged, clutching the accounts book. He had already opened it to the section with the von Klettenburg purchases and payments. This he placed in front of Galinsky before disappearing back into the other room.
“And the Klettenburgs, they were frequent customers of your establishment?”
“Yes, indeed. For a long time, in fact. Herr von Klettenburg’s father and uncle were already clients back when I was a young man, just starting out in the trade.” All this time, Galinsky’s attention was divided between the inspector’s questions and the scribblings in his accounts book. He reached over and picked up the other two rings, checking them against some entries.
“Yes, yes, just as I thought. All three rings belong to Frau von Klettenburg.” He gazed back up at the inspectors. “I could give you the dates of purchase if you like.”
“Later perhaps. But could you … could you describe the lady.”
“Lovely lady. Always polite, warm … ready with a kind word.”
“I was thinking more along the lines of a physical description.”
Galinsky gave a soft laugh. “As lovely on the outside as within. Let’s see … dark hair, shoulder-length, pulled to the side. Large blue eyes. High cheekbones, a fine aquiline nose. A strong chin, but not too strong, you understand. Everything becoming to a lady.”
“Yes, I’m sure.”
“Is there some problem regarding the Frau von Klettenburg?”
“She met with an unfortunate accident yesterday.”
“Ach, du liebe Zeit. Nothing serious, I hope.”
“She … succumbed to her injuries. She’s no longer with us.”
Galinsky reacted as if Stebbel had slapped him viciously across the face. Tears formed in his eyes, and for almost a minute, he seemed to have trouble speaking. When he did manage to get out some words, the first several were all limp, almost mangled.
“That’s terrible. Just terrible.” He then struggled to get out more words even as the tears increased in size. “And I’m sure Herr von Klettenburg must be devastated by the news.”
“He hasn’t been contacted yet. You see, Frau von Klettenburg was found lying on the street.” Galinsky winced, as if this was the most ignominious fate a human being could suffer. And he still had no idea of the circumstances.
“That’s why we sought your assistance, Herr Galinsky. She wasn’t carrying any other identification and we weren’t able to identify the body. Not until now.”
“I see.” Tears now started trickling down his cheeks. Dörfner tried to console him.
“Of course, we’re still not absolutely sure it was this … Frau von Klettenburg. It’s possible that it was somebody else.” He turned to Stebbel to second the possibility. “Maybe a friend that she had lent the rings to.”
“Lending rings like this? To a friend who looked just like her? I don’t think we’re in the realm of likelihood, gentlemen.”
Stebbel stepped back in. “No, probably not. But we’ll go now and notify Herr von Klettenburg and others. We still need to get a positive identification. But rest assured, we’ll provide you with any information we have as soon as it becomes confirmed fact.”
“Thank you, gentlemen. I would appreciate that.” He had already pulled out a handkerchief and started brushing tears from his cheeks.
Having a good deal of important work to do now, the two inspectors bade their farewells and started towards the front door. Before they reached it, Herr Galinsky had moved quickly to the other side of the counter and hurried towards the policeman as he called out.
“Yes, Herr Galinsky?”
“I just wanted to say … that if you need any more assistance from me in dealing with this matter, please don’t hesitate to ask. Don’t hesitate for a moment.”
Stebbel offered a sad smile. “Thank you for that assurance. We will certainly contact you should we need any more information.” Galinsky then stepped around the two and opened the door for them. They both nodded their thanks and turned to step out.
“Oh, and please give my deepest condolences to Herr von Klettenburg when you break the news to him.”
“We will. We certainly will.”
And then they were back on the street and in a rush to return to police headquarters. There was much more work to do on this, but they were buoyed just to have made such progress so early.
Chapter 6
As it happens, the two inspectors were not able to break the news to Karsten von Klettenburg: he was in Bordeaux just then, on a business trip. Some quick inquiries revealed that Anneliese von Klettenburg had two older sisters, but one was living in Prague, the other in Trieste. It made as much sense to try to contact the husband in Bordeaux as to notify one of the sisters. The inspectors hastily decided that the best path still open to them was to head over to the von Klettenburg residence and see if they could get more information there.
At the luxurious von Klettenburg home in the Hietzing district, the two inspectors entered a residence already in a state of decorous panic. As one of the servants explained, Frau von Klettenburg had gone out the previous evening and not returned. She had still not returned, the servant said in a semi-screech, and she had a piano lesson scheduled for two o’clock. The piano teacher was both bumptious and pretentious, and the servants were about to cast lots to see which one would have the thankless task of telling him that the lesson would have to be cance
lled if Frau von Klettenburg did not appear soon.
The inspectors told them that it was very possible she would not be returning any time soon. At that point, Frau Barta, the most senior member of the household staff, marched in.
She quickly assessed what was going on, then elbowed her way to the front of the group and addressed the two policemen with the poised assurance of a senior servant.
“Excuse me, gentlemen, but would your visit have something to do with the whereabouts of our dear Frau von Klettenburg?”
Stebbel nodded and tried to keep his voice at a low and even pitch. “Actually, madam, it does; we were hoping that you might be able to …”
At that moment, Frau Barta had turned to look at Inspector Dörfner. She interpreted his morose, eyes-lowered look immediately – and correctly. Before Stebbel could finish his sentence, she threw her hand across her mouth and gasped.
“Mein lieber Gott, nein!”
Stebbel threw a quick look at Dörfner, then tried to regain Frau Barta’s attention. “Yes, we were hoping that you might be able to help us with an investigation that possibly involves the lady in question.”
Frau Barta turned and whispered something to the other servants gathered in that tight circle. This stunned the servants, and though pressed for more information, the two policemen still held back the key fact. Instead, they peppered the group with more questions.
They soon discovered that a sister-in-law, Constanza, lived right down the street. One of the servants ran across to fetch her, and within a short time, the sister-in-law, Frau Barta and two of the other long-time female servants, along with the two inspectors, were all bundled into a police vehicle and raced back to the headquarters.
(In Vienna, 1913, it was always considered absolutely preferable to have male corpses identified by males, female corpses by females. Only one decent exception was recognized: for spouses. Where possible, as here, this gender divide was scrupulously held to.)
During the ride, Stebbel and Dörfner finally revealed the purpose of the trip. Any emotions held in check until that point finally burst through. The group was already weeping and moaning when they reached police headquarters. This, the two inspectors realized, was going to be one of the more unpleasant identifications.
