Gross seemed to relax somewhat now. ‘Interesting from a forensics viewpoint, but otherwise. .’
‘Yes, well Doktor, this is where you and your colleague may come in. The Hernals police proved to be on their toes, and quite quickly linked the dead body with a missing-person case that had been filed with them by a frantic bride. It seems, her husband, a newly minted medical doctor, had been called out on a home visit on the evening of May 30 and never returned. They made the connection between the date the man went missing and the time when the grave was dug, and thought it worth the chance to call the woman in for an identification.’
‘The poor woman,’ Gross said, uncharacteristically empathetic.
‘Corpse wasn’t as bad as all that. The nights have been cool. Gases yes, but the features are still intact. Eyes a bit sunken, of course, stomach distended, but recognizable. And after all, she is, or was, a doctor’s wife.’
Werthen doubted that she accompanied her husband into the surgery, but held his tongue.
Drechsler sighed, a dramatic pause. ‘In the event, it turned out to be the missing doctor. The lady was apparently quite distraught. We are making further inquiries. It was a clear case of murder by a professional. One stab wound to the heart, from the rear. No mucking about, no hesitation. A sure stroke through the victim’s light overcoat and dress jacket.’
‘And,’ Gross said, ‘this is of interest to us because. .?’
‘For two reasons. The doctor’s name. Schnitzel. Arthur Schnitzel.’
Gross and Werthen exchanged looks, both minds traveling in the same direction: Arthur Schnitzel and Arthur Schnitzler.
‘Seemed coincidental to me,’ Drechsler said. ‘Two men with such similar names, both doctors. One beaten up, the other murdered.’
‘You mentioned a second reason,’ Werthen said.
‘Yes. And that is why I felt I had to call you. Too many coincidences.’
‘Well, it can’t be a missing little finger on the left hand,’ Gross said. ‘Otherwise you would have called yesterday. No need to ruminate on that.’
‘You’re quite right, Doktor Gross. But there was something missing.’
The way he said it made Werthen intuit his meaning. ‘The man’s penis?’
‘Very good, Advokat. I am not sure what any of it means, but I thought you two should know about it.’
‘Not one of those cases you care to explore?’ said Gross.
‘I have rather got my hands full lately. And if you remember, as far as Inspector Meindl is concerned, that other case is solved.’
‘We think not,’ Gross said, and then began to tell Drechsler of his discoveries in Prague; but the inspector held up a hand to stop him.
‘The case is solved, Doktor Gross, if you fully understand my meaning. I do not want to have other information regarding it. But if you gentlemen care to pursue the matter. Well, it is a relatively free country, isn’t it?’
The three men sat in silence for a moment.
Finally Gross broke the silence. ‘It was good of you to share the information, Inspector. If necessary, you can explain away our visit. .’
‘Oh, I already have that in hand. I called the two of you in to further reprimand you for your obstruction in the matter of the death of Count von Ebersdorf. I assume you feel duly chastised?’
‘Absolutely,’ Werthen said, rising to leave.
Gross lingered for a moment. ‘I was wondering,’ he said. ‘Is the body of the unfortunate Doktor Schnitzel available for inspection?’
Drechsler shrugged. ‘As far as I know. But the cause of death is certain. Herr Todt himself examined it.’
‘Ah, then it is at the central morgue?’
Drechsler nodded.
‘One hopes they have not tidied it up too much. It could be of great benefit to forensic science if certain insects are still to be found among the hairs.’
Both Drechsler and Werthen were now staring at him.
‘A simple matter of science,’ Gross said. ‘Not ghoulishness. We know this man died twelve days ago. This provides us with a timeline. Certain insects like to lay their eggs on fresh corpses. By finding those that take ten to twelve days to completely develop from larval form to mature insect, we could establish a valuable tool in determining time of death in future cases.’
Drechsler eyed Werthen. ‘I told you Doktor Gross would find some interest in this.’
They arranged to meet at the Lepidoptera cabinet in the Court Natural History Museum. Schmidt had been very precise about the exact location, for the insect collection was the largest in the world and its cabinets spanned several rooms. They would meet in front of a relatively new addition to the collection: the largest known butterfly, Queen Alexandra’s birdwing, Ornithoptera alexandrae.
Forstl, in civilian dress, was early. Schoolchildren abounded, seemingly as plentiful as the insects in the glass cases. It took Forstl back to his own schooldays in Lemberg, and he suddenly realized this must be the annual school-leaving field trip. His had been to the local freight station, where his father was the clerk. He had always hidden his father’s lowly profession from the other boys in his class. Visiting with his entire class, he ignored his father’s friendly glances as he explained to the noisy group the operation of the freight station. Afterwards, he had joined in the cruel jokes about the ‘squat, bald toad’ behind the counter. He laughed heartily along with the others when one of them, Mayerhof, had quipped that there was nothing very good about the man, punning on Güter, the German word for goods or freight. He still remembered the pun.
‘It is beautiful, no?’
Schmidt stood behind him, his voice raised just enough for Forstl to hear.
‘They have an amazing collection here,’ the agent went on. ‘Someday you should take it all in. Herr Rebel, the keeper of the Lepidoptera collection, is considered a genius in his discipline. A former lawyer, you know.’
Forstl did not know that, nor did he care for any of Schmidt’s bizarre small talk today. He moved away from the crowds of children and from the cabinets to a velvet-cushioned bench under a window that gave out on to Maria Theresa Square, which separated the twin museums devoted to art and natural history. The red plush had faded to a shade of pink. They sat side by side. Schmidt was dressed in the same blue suit he wore for every occasion.
‘You brought them?’
Forstl shook his head. ‘There have been complications. Something else needs to be seen to first.’
Schmidt tensed at his side. ‘Our friends in St Petersburg will not be pleased. They are most anxious to see the mobilization plans.’
‘We are playing the long game here, I thought. I must establish my credentials. I have to become invaluable to Colonel von Krahlich. And now you want me to make him displeased? You tell me, which is the more important?’
‘Does this have to do with the Bower again?’
‘No,’ Forstl replied. ‘That was personal insurance. Von Ebersdorf, as you know, was meant to become the prime suspect in case there were rumors of a Russian double agent at work in Vienna. Loose lips of the chief of the Foreign Ministry’s Russia desk when in bed with a whore. How was I to know the fool would fall in love with the girl?’
‘Stop whining,’ Schmidt said. ‘I was the one who had to clean up that mess for you when the little whore wanted to run off with von Ebersdorf and when her friend demanded hush money for secrets they had shared.’
There was a moment of silence between them filled by the din of high, excited voices.