All of a sudden the old man sprang to his feet and hurled the knife into the bench where it quivered for some time. ‘Listen to me,’ he said. ‘There’s only one thing I want from life, and that is to be left in peace!’
‘I don’t like being abandoned.’
‘I never abandoned anyone!’
‘There’s someone else who won’t leave you in peace, isn’t there? Someone who urged you to teach that puffed-up inspector a lesson. See that he’s had his fill of Masuria, and on the first train back to that hotbed of vice he calls home! So that life here can carry on as normal. Is that it?’ Adamek was silent. ‘Well, let me tell you and your fellow Treuburgers something. You won’t get rid of me so easily! There are far too many secrets in this town, and it’s time someone lifted the lid. Now, kindly tell your mystery employer that’s precisely what I intend to do!’
Was that a grin on his face? Adamek seemed to have enjoyed Rath’s outburst. ‘Why don’t you tell him yourself?’ he said.
76
For as long as she had worked at the Castle, Charly had given the holding cells a wide berth. Now the smell and crude remarks that greeted her arrival appeared to justify her decision. At least the man in here would be keeping his comments to himself. Dietrich Assmann lay on the plank bed, covered by a thin woollen blanket. His eyes were closed, at first glance he looked as if he were sleeping.
‘We didn’t realise until reveille,’ the guard told Ernst Gennat. ‘When we saw he wasn’t moving, we went in. The rest you know.’
‘The rest we know,’ Gennat gave the guard a hostile look. ‘This man was an important witness and he was was killed on your watch! For God’s sake, are people no longer safe in jail?’
‘I wasn’t on duty last night,’ the guard said.
‘You’re in charge here, man!’
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘I demand to know how it could have happened.’
‘In theory, Sir, no one can get in or out of here without our say-so.’
‘In theory,’ Gennat repeated. ‘Yet somehow a killer got in and out. You can’t tell me this was suicide.’ He shook his head. ‘It’s a disgrace! Murder in a police cell! If the press gets wind of this… I want this resolved. I need whatever logs are kept here on my desk. Now. And round up everyone who was on duty last night.’
‘This moment?’ the guard asked, kneading his cap in his hands.
‘Yesterday.’
‘Yes, Sir!’
For some years Gennat had preferred to pull the strings from the comfort of his office, but now the bodies were coming to him. He didn’t even have to leave headquarters to reach Dietrich Assmann’s corpse, just cross to the holding cells in the southern wing and head upstairs to Solitary on the second floor.
Böhm was there too, alongside Lange, and Cadet Steinke, who had called it in. All stood outside the narrow cell watching the forensic technicians go about their business.
Gennat approached the corpse, whose neck Dr Karthaus was examining.
Meanwhile all we can do is carry on. Well, here was Buddha showing the way. Charly didn’t know if it was right, but perhaps there really was no other choice. Did it really matter if their commissioner’s name was Grzesinski or Melcher, if he was a Social Democrat or National Liberal?
Whatever, it looked as if their killer had struck again. Dietrich Assmann lay dead on his plank bed. The mattress and upper portion of the woollen blanket were wet, and on the bedpost hung a red cloth still damp with water. She went over and examined it, sniffing at the red fabric. ‘It smells like camphor,’ she said.
Lange finished photographing the corpse and steered the camera towards the cloth. ‘She’s right. Pitralon, I’d say.’
‘Pitralon?’ Gennat said curiously, joining them. ‘Aftershave?’
‘Seems our man applied it before his death,’ Dr Karthaus said. ‘The corpse smells as if it’s been freshly shaved. Although the chin is quite stubbly.’
‘Am I right in thinking these cloths are placed over the victim’s nose and mouth, and then drenched in water?’ Gennat asked.
‘You’re saying the smell transferred onto the cloth from Assmann’s face?’
‘Precisely.’
‘Isn’t it too intense for that?’ Charly asked. ‘Seems more likely the cloth was dipped in aftershave.’
‘Take a photo of the cloth, Lange, then Kronberg can bag it for examination.’
‘Yes, Sir.’
Gennat turned towards Kronberg, who was speaking with Böhm. ‘Well?’
The ED man shrugged. ‘We don’t know how the perpetrator got in and out. There are no signs of forced entry. Nothing to indicate the use of a picklock.’
‘He must have got in somehow.’
‘Perhaps he had a key.’
‘You’re saying it was one of the guards?’
‘We shouldn’t rule anything out, but actually what I meant is perhaps someone had a key cut. Or got hold of one somehow. Wouldn’t be the first time a key had fallen into the wrong hands.’
‘We’ll ask around the relevant people.’
Gennat was famous for his contacts in the Ringvereine, as well as for his network of informants. If anyone could discover who had keys to the holding cells at Alex, it was him. ‘When you examine that cloth,’ he said to Kronberg, ‘I’d like to know why it smells like that, and if it’s a match for the others.’
While Gennat was speaking, Charly looked round the cell and found a cigarette stub under the plank bed. She knelt beside Dr Karthaus and lifted it with a pair of tweezers. It had only been half-smoked. ‘Take a look at this,’ she said. Gennat and Böhm turned towards her. ‘Strange, don’t you think?’
‘Why?’ Böhm asked. ‘You’re permitted to smoke in police custody.’
‘That’s true,’ Gennat said, ‘but in here you smoke each cigarette as if it’s your last. What you don’t do is smoke half and stub the rest out. I think that’s what you’re getting at, am I right, Fräulein Ritter?’
Charly nodded, but she was embarrassed. She felt like an insufferable know-it-all. Luckily Böhm didn’t hold it against her.
Dr Karthaus joined them. ‘Did I hear you right? You’re permitted to smoke in here?’ He fetched his cigarette case from his overalls and lit up.
‘So long as you don’t stub it out on the floor.’
‘No problem.’ Karthaus removed a tin case from his overalls. A pocket ashtray. ‘I know my place where Forensics are concerned.’
‘Have you anything for us?’ Böhm asked. ‘Death by drowning? The usual?’
‘Depends on how you look at it. If by usual you mean that the man is dead, then yes.’ The pathologist inhaled deeply. ‘If, on the other hand, you are asking whether we are dealing with the same sequence of events as in previous cases, then I’m afraid I must disappoint.’ Böhm looked surprised, and the doctor seemed to enjoy it. He gestured towards the corpse with the cigarette. ‘I’ve searched his neck for a puncture site. There’s nothing.’
‘Perhaps the killer injected a different part of his body?’
‘We’ll have to wait for the autopsy. However, while examining his neck I made another discovery.’ Karthaus took another long drag and pointed at the corpse a second time. ‘Unless I’m very much mistaken, the man has a broken neck.’
77
Erich Grigat was adjusting his shako before the wall mirror when Rath barged through the door. ‘How the hell did you get in here?’ he asked.
‘My apologies, Sir,’ his secretary replied. ‘This gentleman completely ignored me. He didn’t even knock, just came…’