When the moon rises over Berlin

      The soldiers walking back and forth irritated Adler. Today he was not in the mood. Having quarrelled with Gertrude, he did not want to return home. Ingrid’s death shook him. It seemed ridiculous to him. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wished it had been Ingrid’s silly joke. He wished she had turned out to be alive, he would come to her and would hear her voice again. However, it was not the case. It was all real. She was really dead. The doctors' report confirmed it.       He tried to collect his thoughts, but he could do nothing. Sitting in a dusty closet, wanting to be alone with himself.       Ingrid, this is nonsense. Even if it was a conspiracy and it was serious. What could you do? You were an ordinary girl with your own quirks. Why could you suddenly cross someone’s path? Yes, you were rich and famous in your circles, but a murder…? Yeah, it could have happened, but… Maybe you decided to set up your own murder in order to hide from someone.       Adler was startled by a sudden knock on the door. An assistant came in and said that relatives had already arrived. Adler stood up, cursing, and with a sharp jerk of the handle quickly walked in the direction of the office.       Adler had to postpone lunch indefinitely. The relatives of the murdered Ingrid had arrived — her father and brother. Adler heard little from Ingrid about these two, only that her father did not understand her, and her brother had never been close to her spiritually. Adler was not going to look at them with prejudice; maybe they were not bad people.       Dark corridors with burgundy curtains and too little lighting did not improve Adler’s good mood. He automatically greeted everyone he met and caught the sidelong glances of his colleagues. He would hold a conversation in his office. Yeah, even if it wasn’t that big, it was bright. He would be able to ask the murdered woman’s father about a lot of things.       Adler sat down at the table in his office and opened a folder with questions and a case file. Ingrid remained a beauty even after death. Adler chuckled, the soldier who had just arrived asked if he could invite Ingrid’s father, Mr. Fuchsmann. Adler nodded and folded his hands in a lock.       He saw a man of average build with a bald spot on the back of his head and small sparkling eyes. He rubbed his forehead. He followed the soldier, looking very lost.       “Come over here,” Adler pointed to the chair in front of him. The man hesitated for a minute or two, but sat down on a chair. The soldier walked away leaving them alone.       “Excuse me. I’m a little out of sorts today,” joked the man.        “I get you. Your daughter was killed yesterday, this is a great loss to you.”       “Oh, yes,” slightly feignedly said the man.       “So, let’s start the interrogation,” the man nodded. “The interrogation will be held by me, SS Sturmbannführer Adler Schiller, the whole interrogation will be recorded. Your answers will also be written down by my assistant, Obersturmführer Hermann Weiss.”       The man nodded the second time.       “First, could you please introduce yourself? What is your name? How old are you? What is your occupation?”       “My name is Werner Fuchsmann. I was born on February 23, 1880 in Berlin. I hold the position of CEO of the Board of Directors of “Farben”. I was married from 1900 to 1920 and is a widower now. I have two children from this marriage.”       “Tell me, Mr. Fuchsmann, your daughter was found in her apartment last night around 10 p.m. She was found by neighbours, they called the police and reported the murder. Where were you on the day of the murder between 8:00 and 10:00 p.m.?”       “I was spending time with my son. We were at our estate. Wilhelm and the servants can confirm this.”       “When was the last time you saw your daughter?”       “Last month. We met at her brother Wilhelm’s birthday party. He was supposed to give her the documents for the apartment that day.”       “Which apartment?”, Adler asked the question with lightning speed.       “To the one which she lived in until the moment of her death.”        “What name was the apartment registered in?”       “In the name of Wilhelm, her older brother. He used to own it, but then he moved out.”       “Do you know the reason why he moved out?”, Adler was carefully watching the man.       He is not confident in himself and answers very reluctantly, thinking a lot.        “No, I can’t tell you,” Fuchsmann said in one breath.       “Tell me, did you know Ingrid’s friends or acquaintances, maybe someone she was in contact with? Who else was a frequent guest at her place?”, Fuchsmann tensed, it was clear how the vein on his head was swelling from brain tension.       “She had a friend, Holly, but as far as I know she moved away. I don’t know if they kept in touch or not,” Adler scribbled this piece of information in his notebook.       “Tell me, Mr. Fuchsmann, what kind of relationship did you have with your daughter? Did she ever tell you about her problems?”, the man relaxed a little and even leaned back in his chair, it seemed this question was very easy for him.       “We were on neutral terms after the death of Elizabeth, my wife. The children, left in my care, communicated more with each other. I was closer to Wilhelm than to Ingrid. Besides, Ingrid never told me anything. I was her father, I encouraged her hobbies.”       “Which ones?”       “She loved to ride horses and ski in the Alps. She loved an active lifestyle.”       “Did you know what else she wanted to try? Or what did she want to do? What did she want to be in her profession?”, Adler asked these questions, intending to test the waters.       “I have no idea. I think she wanted to be anything but a housewife. You’d better ask Wilhelm about this,” the man lowered his shoulders again, hunching.       “Tell me, please, did your relationship deteriorate in the last weeks before her death?”       “No, I didn’t notice this. We were in touch when she needed money. I signed her checks and Wilhelm gave them to her.”       “Tell me, what amounts are we talking about?”       “About a hundred D-marks a month.”       “A car was found with the victim. Tell me, do you know where she got it from?”       “I have no idea. In addition, Ingrid did not know how to drive. Why would she need it? Maybe Wilhelm helped her. I remember that she asked me for money for all this stuff and he laughed about it. But I still don’t understand why she needs it.”       “Then, I think we’re done for today,” Adler made a phone call and the sergeant led the man out. Adler asked to give him ten minutes for a break.       Adler stopped the tape recorder and threw back his head. Fuchsmann’s behaviour showed uncertainty and feigned grief.       Maybe he really didn’t know anything about Ingrid, like she said. But her brother… Why did their father make so many references to her brother? What could they possibly know together? Maybe they were fighting. There is an interesting point here between the words of her family. I need to listen what her brother would say. I think I can dig up even more here than from anyone else. He wasn’t interested in his daughter’s life at all, why? Maybe because he didn’t need her. All the things were bought with the money of the father or brother. But since the brother moved out so abruptly, it says something.       Adler refilled the tape and orders Wilhelm to be brought in, by pressing the recording device.        A young man followed the sergeant with a self-assured gait, chin upturned, and, sitting down in his chair, leaned back immediately       Wow, he’s even more boorish than his father, let’s see how you turn out in the end.       Both men looked at each other with bated breath, Wilhelm stared at Schiller haughtily and insolently.       “So, let’s start the interrogation,” Wilhelm nodded. “The interrogation will be held by me, SS Sturmbannführer Adler Schiller, the whole interrogation will be recorded. Your answers will also be written down by my assistant, Obersturmführer Hermann Weiss,” the man nodded the second time.       “First, could you please introduce yourself? What is your name? How old are you? What is your occupation?”       “My name is Wilhelm Fuchsmann, I was born on October 14, 1910. I finished school, then entered the Faculty of Chemistry, but dropped it out. I am currently undergoing training in the Luftwaffe.”       “Wilhelm, as you know, your sister was murdered yesterday, you were called to testify,” not a single muscle moved on his face. “Tell me, when was the last time you saw your sister? What were you doing on the day of the murder between 8:00 and 10:00 p.m.?       “Yes, she was murdered. I was in the house with my father at the time. He can confirm this,” clearly said the guy.       “When was the last time you saw your sister?”       “I saw her and talked to her on my birthday, handing over papers for the apartment, then I saw her on Thursday dropping by her place. I brought her new tea. I decided to visit her and my old apartment, which I had moved out of.”       “Why did you move out of the apartment where the victim lived? Your father said that you used to live there,” Wilhelm raised his eyebrows.       “You’re so quick. I left that apartment because I built myself a small house with my own money. Besides, Ingrid really asked for a place of her own, so we gave her this old apartment.”       “How long did the murdered woman live there?”, Wilhelm rolled his eyes.       “Two years,” answered he, almost interrupting, raising the tone of his voice.       “Why didn’t you re-register the apartment under her name?”       “Honestly, I was just lazy. All this paperwork… you should know,” Wilhelm gave Adler an innocent look, trying to flatter him. The speed Wilhelm’s attitude changed in could not hide from Adler’s eagle eye.       “What kind of relationship did you have with the murdered woman?”       “Well, we communicated well, unlike their relationship with the father. At least Ingrid wanted to see me. She was a little jealous of me.”       “What was the reason for her cold relationship with her father?”       “She wanted to enter the Faculty of Chemistry, just like me. I told you before. My father was against it.       “What is your profession now?”       “I’m a military pilot, just starting out,” boasted Wilhelm. Adler was irritated by it.       “Why didn’t you finish your studies at the Faculty of Chemistry?”, Wilhelm shrugged.       “Boring. I wanted to try something new in my life. You know how it happens sometimes.”       “Yes, sometimes it happens,” Adler scribbled on a piece of paper. “Tell me, how well did you get along with the victim?        “Well,” he hesitated, “it’s not that good, but we sometimes called each other on the phone and had a few words with each other. She didn’t communicate with her father at all, they had a falling out a long time ago and hadn’t spoken since.”       “What was the reason for the quarrel?”, Adler noted more and more new details.       “Ingrid did not want her father to do experiments on rabbits. She loved them very much. She asked him to take the a couple of them home, even promised to look after them, but her father insisted on his own point of view. No animals in the house. So they fought.”       “Did your father communicate with her through you?”, Wilhelm nodded.       “She even asked to buy her a car, I don’t know why, really. She wanted to drive, but she didn’t have a license.”       “When did she ask for a car? And where is it now?”, clearly and quickly asked Adler.       — Two weeks before she died. The car should be outside her house.       “Tell me, do you know Ingrid’s girlfriends, friends or acquaintances?”       “Well,” the boy scratched his head, “I remember she had a friend, Holly, but she might have flown away. I don’t know if they have spoken since then.       “Okay, thank you, I think we’re done for today. You’re free to go.”        They said goodbyes. Adler switched off the recording device and began to think.       During two years they had enough time to register the flat under Ingrid’s name, it wasn’t just laziness. Maybe she didn’t want it. The chemist — why did he change careers without finishing his degree?       A car? Ingrid never mentioned any car. Right, she didn’t have a licence. But why would she need a car? Besides, she could ask for a chauffeur if she needed one.        The car, Ehrman said he had been investigating a case regarding cars, we need to check if it’s been stolen, plus the experiments at the factory. What can they test at a chemical factory on animals? Drugs? No. Poisons, maybe? Ingrid has learnt something about her father or her brother. He’s just an ordinary pilot, aspiring military, where did he get the money for the house? Maybe he ordered her murder or had something to do with it?       Adler dialed a number and ordered a stakeout on these two. He should listen to Ehrman and Wieland to see if they found anything.