‘Oh, yes.’
I lit a cigarette. I never much cared for big cigars.
We walked along the landing.
‘Tell me,’ asked Hamperl. ‘Did you ever catch that poor Captain’s murderer?’
The official record showed that Kuttner’s murder remained unsolved. Hamperl probably knew that. It was just his way of teasing me. I was hardly about to tell him that he’d just finished dissecting Kuttner’s murderer. Somehow that didn’t seem appropriate. Besides, as well as the SS guards there were several Gestapo men hanging around the floor.
‘No,’ I said. ‘We never did.’
‘We? You were in charge of that case, weren’t you, Commissar Gunther?’
‘I thought that, too. But it turned out I wasn’t really.’
‘Who was?’
I nodded back at the autopsy theatre. ‘He was. Heydrich.’
‘I expect he’s why you’re here now. Yes?’
‘It’s not because I like this place.’
‘No, indeed. Well, it was good to see you again, anyway.’
‘No, don’t go away. I’ve come all the way from Berlin to talk to you, Professor.’
‘I’ve got nothing to say.’
‘Come on, Professor. Help me out here.’
It’ll be a day or two before Professor Weygrich and I have finished our report,’ said Hamperl. ‘You can read it then. Now, if you don’t mind, Commissar, I have a lot of work to do in the lab.’
I followed him downstairs.
‘All I want from you is your probable assessment. And then I’ll leave you alone.’
‘No. I can’t help you there. My report is for the eyes of General Frank only. Until he authorizes its release, I can’t discuss the case with anyone. That’s what he told me. And I wouldn’t care to disappoint that man. He’s in a mood to do harm to this city. To the whole country, perhaps.’
I ran ahead a few steps and then stopped in front of Hamperl.
‘I can appreciate that. But I really must insist.’
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Commissar. You’re in no position to insist on anything. The report must remain private for now. Now get out of my way.’
I stayed where I was. ‘Would it make a difference if I said the word “Rothenburg”, sir?’
Hamperl did not reply.
‘I’m sure you know what I’m talking about, Professor Hamperl. The Pension Matzky.’
‘I was visiting a patient,’ he said. ‘In my capacity as a doctor, you understand. That is why I was there.’
‘Of course. I understand perfectly. What you don’t know perhaps is that nothing that happens there is private. Nothing at all.’
Hamperl’s fixed jaw slackened a little.
‘What do you mean?’
‘There were hidden microphones.’
‘I see.’
‘All I’m asking is that you give me a few minutes of your time, Professor. In private. Do you have a car here, sir?’
‘Yes. Why?’
‘Perhaps you could give me a lift back into the centre of Prague, sir. We might talk a little during the journey.’
‘Yes. I don’t see why not. We could certainly do that. A good idea. Follow me.’
That evening I met Arthur Nebe at the Esplanade Hotel where both of us were staying, and over an excellent dinner I told him what I had learned that afternoon from Professor Hamperl.
‘It seems that Heydrich was making a strong recovery until yesterday lunchtime. He’d just finished a meal cooked specially for him by his wife, Lina, when he collapsed and lost consciousness.’
‘I hope you’re not going to tell me she poisoned him.’
Nebe grinned and poured himself a glass of wine. He was doing his best to enjoy himself in spite of everything that had happened, and some of the wariness that was almost always in his narrow eyes was gone. Probably it was just the wine. Nebe was especially fond of good wine and good restaurants. He put his long nose into his wine glass and breathed deeply.
‘Do drink up, Bernie. This is a superb claret.’
‘It wasn’t her that poisoned him. But—’
He put down his glass and watched my face for some sign of humour.
‘You’re not serious.’
‘Professor Hamperl is scared, Arthur. He’d like the autopsy to report that Heydrich died from anaemic shock.’
‘The man lost his spleen, didn’t he? Anaemic shock would be a fair conclusion to that sort of injury.’
‘However, Professor Weygrich wishes to mention the presence of organ damage resulting from an infection. A bacteria or poison.’ I shrugged. ‘Well, again, you might expect infection to result from bomb splinters.’
‘Certainly.’
‘However.’
‘Ugh. That word again.’
‘Hamperl would prefer not to mention this inflammation of the tissues at all. Mediastinitis, he called it.’
‘I fail to see the need for two ominous howevers. Infection is common in such situations.’
‘After the patient was making a strong recovery?’ I shook my head. ‘Listen, Arthur. On Tuesday Heydrich had a temperature of one hundred and two degrees Fahrenheit. But yesterday his temperature was down and his wound was draining freely. That is until midday, when the infection suddenly returned. A complete reversal of his condition.’
‘So what are you saying, Bernie?’
‘I’m not saying anything. Hamperl is saying it. And frankly he’s not likely ever to say it again, to anyone. I had a hard enough job getting him to say it the first time. And here’s another thing, Arthur. I’m never going to say any of this again, either. If you ever ask me about this I’ll just say I don’t know what you’re talking about.’
‘All right.’ Nebe nodded. ‘So, let’s hear it.’
‘Hamperl believes the infection was introduced long after the wound was sustained. That Heydrich was infected by a bacterium introduced by an outside agency. In other words, he was poisoned.’
‘Good God. You are serious.’ Nebe grabbed his glass and drained the contents. ‘Who did it?’
‘He won’t say. But I checked through the medical records myself and they show that Heydrich was initially under the care of Himmler’s personal physician, Professor Karl Gebhardt.’
‘That’s right,’ said Nebe. ‘As soon as he heard Heydrich had been injured Himmler ordered Gebhardt to come to Prague and take charge of Heydrich’s treatment.’
‘But later on, Hitler’s own doctor, Dr Karl Brandt, arrived on the scene and, having examined Heydrich himself he recommended that Heydrich be treated with an anti-bacterial sulphonamide. Gebhardt refused however, on the basis that the drug isn’t particularly soluble and, crystallizing in the kidneys, sulphonamide can cause a certain amount of pain. You wouldn’t want to prescribe it to someone who wasn’t eating or drinking.’
‘But you said that Heydrich was eating and drinking normally.’
‘Exactly,’ I said. ‘And if he was taking liquids, any pain from sulphonamides would have been considerably lessened.’
‘So what are you saying? That Gebhardt poisoned Heydrich?’
‘I’m saying it’s a possibility. When I was last in Prague, Heydrich told me that SS doctors were experimenting with sulphonamide compounds, as a way of treating wound infections. Doesn’t it seem odd that Heydrich of all people should have been prevented from taking advantage of a drug newly synthesized in SS laboratories?’
‘Yes, it does,’ admitted Nebe.
‘At least until you remember that Heydrich already suspected Himmler of trying to kill him.’ I shrugged. ‘Who better than a doctor to finish the job started by the British parachutists? And here’s another thing that I found out at the Bulovka Hospital. After her husband died Lina Heydrich had some sort of altercation with Dr Gebhardt and actually accused him of killing her husband. It seems that she had to be restrained from hitting him.’