‘I don’t know about Sergeant Kuhr,’ I said, ‘but there’s still another argument in favour of sparing Corporal Hermichen from the rope.’
As Von Kluge raised an eyebrow at me the telephone rang. He picked up the receiver, listened for a moment, said ‘Yes’ and then replaced the receiver.
‘Well, what is it?’ he asked me. ‘Your other argument, captain?’
‘It’s this. I think he has some information that might be valuable, sir.’
I hesitated for a moment as I heard the small voice of the operator still on the line. Von Kluge heard it too and picked it up angrily. ‘For two weeks now I’ve been telling your people that this telephone isn’t working properly,’ he said to the operator. ‘I want it fixed today or I shall want to know why.’ He banged the receiver down. ‘I’m surrounded by idiots.’ He looked at me as if I might have been another idiot.
‘You were saying?’
‘If you remember sir, a couple of weeks ago there were two murders in Smolensk. A couple of off-duty soldiers had their throats cut.’
‘I thought that was partisans,’ said Von Kluge. ‘I distinctly remember it was partisans. And the Gestapo hanging five people for it, the day after Hitler visited Smolensk. As an example to the city.’
‘It was six people,’ I said. ‘And the ones they hanged didn’t kill our men.’
‘I do appreciate that, captain,’ said Von Kluge. ‘I’m not a complete fool. Naturally, they meant the executions to serve as a message to the partisans – an eloquent message of the kind that Voltaire mentions in his play Candide.’
‘I don’t know the play. But I think I know the message.’
‘And I thought you were an educated man, Gunther. Pity.’
‘And I do know a possible lead when I hear one, sir. It’s my belief that another German soldier murdered those two men and that Corporal Hermichen might be able to provide some information that could lead to the killer’s apprehension. That is, if the corporal’s life was spared.’
‘Are you suggesting that we do a deal with Corporal Hermichen: that he tells you what you want to know in return for a more lenient sentence?’
‘That’s exactly what I’m suggesting.’
‘And what about Sergeant Kuhr? Does he have any information pertinent to this other inquiry?’
‘No sir.’
‘But if he did have any useful information would you be recommending that the court spares his life, too?’
‘I suppose I would. Information – good information – is rather difficult to come by in any police inquiry. A lot of the time we rely on informers, but they’re thin on the ground in wartime. Over the years I’ve developed a nose for when a man has a story to tell. I think Corporal Hermichen is just such a man. I’m not saying that he doesn’t deserve to be punished – what happened was bestial, truly bestial. I just happen to believe that perhaps sparing one man might result in the apprehension of another equally bestial criminal. Amid so much death and so much killing, a murder is very easy to get away with in this part of the world. That bothers me. It bothers me a lot. I think that if we take our time here and act judiciously we can throw a stone and hit two birds instead of one.’
‘That sort of thing may pass for proper procedure at Berlin Alexanderplatz,’ said Von Kluge. ‘But the Wehrmacht High Command does not enter into negotiations with rapists and murderers. According to you we should spare the corporal because he has some important information; but we should also convict the sergeant who isn’t fortunate enough to have any such useful information – information that it ought to have been the corporal’s duty as a German soldier to share with his superiors long before now. I like Corporal Hermichen even less now that you’ve told me this, Gunther. He strikes me as a very untrustworthy sort of fellow. You surely can’t expect my court to make a deal with a man like that.’
‘I would like to solve that crime sir,’ I said.
‘I appreciate your professional zeal, captain. But surely the field police are dealing with that crime? Or the Gestapo? It’s what they’re for.’
‘Lieutenant Voss of the field police is a good man, sir. But it’s my information that there are still no suspects.’
‘Isn’t it possible that the corporal and the sergeant also murdered these two other fellows? Have you thought of that?’
Patiently I explained all of the facts, and why I thought Kuhr and Hermichen were innocent of those earlier crimes – not least the fact that both men had cast-iron alibis for the night in question – but the field marshal wasn’t having any of this.
‘The trouble with you detective fellows,’ he said, ‘is that you place too much emphasis on fancy notions like alibis. When you’ve handled as many military courts as I have you soon get to know all of the common soldier’s tricks and to understand just what they’re capable of. They’re all liars, Gunther. All of them. Alibis mean nothing in the German army. The ordinary Fritz in uniform will lie for his comrade just as soon as you or I would fart. Playing skat in the mess here until two o’ clock? No, I’m afraid it just won’t do. From what you’ve told me about the bayonet and the motorcycle, it seems perfectly obvious that you’ve already got the two most likely perpetrators for that crime, too.’
I glanced at Dyakov, but Dyakov pursed his lips and shook his head discreetly, and it was then plain to me that there was little point in arguing with Von Kluge. All the same I tried.
‘But sir …’
‘No buts, Gunther. We’ll try ’em both in the morning. And hang the bastards after lunch.’
I nodded curtly and then got up to leave.
‘Oh, and Gunther, I’d like you to prosecute, if you wouldn’t mind.’
‘I’m not a lawyer, sir. I’m not sure I know how.’
‘I’m aware of that.’
‘Couldn’t Judge Conrad do it?’
Johannes Conrad was the bureau judge that Goldsche had already dispatched to Smolensk. Since his arrival, he and Gerhard Buhtz – a professor of forensic medicine from Berlin – had been kicking their heels waiting for more evidence of a massacre.
‘Judge Conrad is going to judge the case, with me and General von Tresckow. Look, I’m not asking you to cross-examine them, or anything like that. You can leave that to me. Just lay the facts and the evidence before the court – for appearances’ sake – and we’ll do the rest. You must have done that before, when you were a police commissar.’
‘Might I ask who’s going to defend the men?’
‘This isn’t meant to be an adversarial process,’ said Von Kluge. ‘It’s a court of inquiry. Their guilt or innocence isn’t to be determined by advocacy but by the facts. Still, perhaps you’re right – under the circumstances someone ought to speak for them. I’ll appoint an officer from my own staff to give them a fair shake. Von Tresckow’s adjutant, Lieutenant von Schlabrendorff. He trained as a lawyer, I think. Interesting fellow, Von Schlabrendorff – his mother’s the great-greatgranddaughter of Wilhelm the first, the Elector of Hesse, which means that he’s related to the present king of Great Britain.’
‘I could do it more effectively, sir. Defend the men. Instead of prosecuting them. I’d feel more comfortable doing that. After all, it will give me another chance of arguing for clemency on behalf of Corporal Hermichen.’
‘No, no, no,’ he said, testily. ‘I’ve given you a job to do. Now damn well do it. That’s an order.’
CHAPTER 2
Saturday, March 27th 1943
The trial of Sergeant Kuhr and Corporal Hermichen took place the following morning at the army Kommandatura in Smolensk, which was less than a kilometre north of the prison. Outside the air had turned to the colour of lead and it was obvious that snow was on the way, which most people agreed was a good thing, as it meant the temperature was starting to climb.