My men and I looked at one another and I could see from their faces that they, like I, felt a silent satisfaction. After the events of yesterday, the blackmailing captain’s death seemed like a higher form of justice.
No one was upset, not even Engel’s driver, when I ordered that we move without delay. Going back would only have compromised Operation Alberich. ‘There’s nothing more we can do,’ I said, and my men nodded in silence. And so we left the dead captain where he lay, in the grave that war had dug him.
Roddeck must have thought Engel was dead when he wrote these lines. Now the fallen captain had murdered two men. Rath paid and went on his way. Shortly before dusk he reached Elberfeld.
Friedrich Grimberg, Roddeck’s former demolition expert, lived on Tannenbergstrasse, on the shores of the Wupper, the suspension monorail rumbling along at eye level outside the windows of his second floor flat. Its passengers could see into his rooms, and most were glad of the distraction.
‘Doesn’t it bother you?’ Rath asked in Grimberg’s living room. Pans clattered in the kitchen. It was supper time.
‘You get used to it. I’ve nothing to hide. If it becomes a nuisance, I just pull the curtains.’
‘I understand my colleagues from Elberfeld have spoken with you already?’
‘One was here last night to check I was still alive. What’s all this about? My wife was beside herself.’ Rath outlined Roddeck’s tale in a few words. ‘Achim von Roddeck has joined the literary fraternity?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘You have to earn your crust.’ Grimberg shrugged. ‘I have remained within my trade, though I now work as a quarry blaster.’
‘Tell me about what happened back then. The murder of the two civilians and the recruit.’
‘I wasn’t there.’
‘Ah…’
‘I stayed on in the village to lay the traps. Everything had to be ready for our withdrawal the next day.’
The traps. The way Grimberg spoke about them you’d think they were jumping jacks, but they had claimed the lives of countless British and French soldiers.
‘It was one of your traps that killed Captain Engel, am I right?’
‘What are you trying to say?’
‘It’s just a question.’
‘They were all mine. It’s why I was there on the morning of the retreat, when the captain carried out the inspection.’
‘And this one trap was faulty…’
‘Inspector, to this day I don’t know how it happened, but it certainly wasn’t faulty.’
‘Then why did it go off?’
‘I don’t know. Perhaps a pigeon strayed into the dugout and became caught in the wire. Fluttered around a bit, and then: boom!’
‘What wire?’
‘The fuse was to be activated by a wire in the final dugout. It wasn’t supposed to go off until as many enemies as possible had entered our abandoned trenches.’
‘Sounds brutal.’
‘War is brutal, Inspector. Those were our orders.’
‘What about requisitioning and hiding French gold? How did that square with your orders?’
‘It didn’t.’ Grimberg looked around, as if afraid his wife might hear. ‘I blame myself to this day.’
‘But you said yourself, you weren’t there when it was hidden.’
‘I knew about it, and said nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘Still, why should it matter now? The gold’s gone.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Didn’t Roddeck tell you? That we were in France again, after the war was over?’
‘No.’ Rath didn’t mention that he’d failed to question Roddeck properly because he didn’t believe his story.
‘We crossed the border on different days, and at different checkpoints, to avoid suspicion. It isn’t so easy to get into France. You need a visa, and have to say exactly where you are going and why. Each of us had a different story for the French authorities, and it wasn’t until Cambrai that we met. Roddeck was even more cautious. He only sent his shadow.’
‘Who?’
‘Wosniak, his orderly. He could trust him. Wosniak worshipped Roddeck like a saint.’
‘Yet in recent years the good lieutenant rather neglected his faithful Henrich.’
‘He had enough problems keeping himself above water, our Herr Gigolo.’
‘Roddeck’s a dance host?’
‘An author too, it seems. Whatever: he certainly could have done with the French gold back then. But it wasn’t there.’
‘The French found it before you?’
‘Looks that way, Inspector, and I must say, disappointed as I was, I feel only relief now.’
‘When was this?’
‘Summer ’24.’
‘So late?’
‘We needed time to find our feet again after the war, and it wasn’t easy for a German to travel to France in those first years. Inflation meant our money wasn’t worth anything.’ Grimberg had to pause, as a train rattled past his window. The rumble and squeal was hellishly loud. ‘Anyway, we were too late. No one wanted to believe the gold was gone. Wosniak even accused Meifert of having pinched it.’
‘The maths teacher?’
‘Minus Meifert might not have been the bravest, but he was crafty.’
‘You suspected each other?’
‘Initially perhaps, but little by little it became clear that none of us could have done it. We were too poor. Meifert was the one who said it. Look at us! Do we look rich? And, if one of us were rich, would he be here now?’
‘In that case you must have suspected Roddeck. He wasn’t there.’
‘But his shadow was, and if anyone had said anything against his lieutenant, he’d have gone for their throat.’
‘More of an attack dog than a shadow then.’
‘If you like. No one fancied taking on Wosniak, but the truth is no one suspected Roddeck. He was a classic case of impoverished nobility. You think someone like that willingly goes into hotels and allows rich, fat and, worst of all, bourgeois women to bore him silly?’
‘You seem to know a lot about the German upper classes.’
‘I’ve encountered plenty of noblemen in uniform.’ He gave a scornful look. ‘Without that sort of baggage we might have won the war, and Germany certainly wouldn’t have such a bad reputation.’
‘I thought it was people like Captain Engel who dragged the country’s reputation through the mire. That’s what Roddeck writes, anyway.’
‘I’m in no position to judge.’
‘Did the captain own a trench dagger?’
‘Everyone who fought in the trenches did.’
‘Yes, but Engel’s was unique, wasn’t it?’
‘I don’t remember. All I know is that Engel was one of the few officers who didn’t shy away from trench warfare.’
‘Did he enjoy killing? Is that why he was known as Todesengel?’
‘He was called that because he was responsible for the casualties in Alberich territory. As was I, only I didn’t acquire a nickname.’
‘Because you weren’t an officer?’
‘Perhaps because I wasn’t Jewish either. Engel wasn’t popular in the troop, that’s true. He was too ambitious for a lot of them. Doesn’t take long to get a reputation. There were some who really hated him.’
‘What about you? Did you hate him?’
‘He was my commanding officer. Not best friend material, but hatred?’ Grimberg shook his head. ‘Captain Engel valued my work, and I respected him.’ Again he looked around as if someone might hear. ‘I know what you’re driving at, Inspector. Believe me, I’ve asked myself often enough.’
‘And?’
Grimberg shrugged. ‘A charge can always misfire once it’s primed. But… at that very instant?’ He looked at Rath as if he were expecting a follow-up question, but none came. ‘It happens more often than you might think. Even if it’s never talked about.’