Chapter 1
November 14, 2023 at 1:41 AM
06.12.1935
The twilight filled the entire space, penetrating into the farthest corners of the room. The massive clock standing by the door struck exactly midnight. Cigarette smoke hung in the office, rising in a thin trickle from the cigarette of one of those present, there was a smell of cologne mixed with the smell of cognac drunk by another person in the room. The massive mahogany table on which the bottle stood was long with one side facing the exit. Painted ceilings with stucco molding on them reminded of the Renaissance, white curtains were tightly drawn. The faint sounds of the wheels of a few passing cars could be heard at this hour on the other side of the windows.
There were four people in the office. On the right side of the table there was Adler Schiller, an officer. His green eyes were starring glassy into the void. He was holding a mug of bitter coffee and was sipping from it from time to time. He was woken up in the middle of the night, so he was sitting in a semi-oblivion, somewhere on the border between a dream and a reality. He was waiting, tapping his fingertips on the table faster and faster and changing his position — leaning back in his chair, then sitting up straight again. His hand was running through his dark brown hair.
Ehrman Weber, the captain, was sitting next to him on the right. He squeezed a cigarette between his fingers and was watching it smoulder in his hands. His long thin fingers looked more like the fingers of an artist than a military man. Red-headed, slightly faded in the sun, he usually carefully hid his hair under a cap, but it had to be removed in the office. He was leaning back in his chair, crossing his legs and thinking about something. The bright light of the lamps irritated his light grey eyes. There was a carafe of water in the middle — it separated him from another person present in this office.
Wieland Lange was sitting on the other side of the table, right between Adler and Ehrman. The man was staring at white walls, the ceiling with ornaments and a picture hanging in the office. His blond hair was sticking up. He rubbed his brown eyes and looked at the head of the Gestapo homicide department — the man who had gathered them all here.
Everyone present shuddered at the sound of a phone call which broke the silence in the office, implying something terrible. The boss picked up the phone, they said something very quickly to him, he only nodded slowly and agreed on their words at the other end of the line. After hanging up the phone he turned to the invitees. His loud and clear voice echoed through the walls of the room, which brought everyone in the office to their senses.
“As you can guess, I gathered you here for a reason,” everyone was silent. “I don’t like to involve too many people in the case, but this case is high-profile and unusual,” he paused, giving time to digest the information. “Namely, the daughter of the CEO of “Farben” company was killed,” he opened a skinny folder with the documents and put them with a photo on the table in front of the men. All three of them instantly leaned forward. In the photo there was a cute girl with beautiful big eyes and a charming smile. “You as the best investigators have been given a month to solve her murder. Any questions?”
“Why were we pulled from different authorities? What does SS and SA have to do with it?”, asked Wieland. “Well, SD, we have something to do with it if it’s regarding the security of the state, but what do they have to do with it?” He looked at his colleagues. Adler was outraged by this, Ehrman did not react in any way.
“You have a point, Wieland,” the boss sat down in a chair. “It’s because the management decided that it would be more effective. Besides, they have a lot of acquaintances, so it will be faster. As all three of you understand the case is clearly not easy. In addition, as many people assume her murder was committed specifically to provoke Germany and as a result to cause an international scandal. And to create panic among the head of the Reich.”
“Tell me then, why didn’t the Gestapo take care of it? After all, this is your direct responsibility. Or don’t you just want to lose?”, Adler shifted his legs.
“Not yet ours, Adler, the management decided that by unraveling this case unnoticed and with a little publicity, we would keep the balance. If Gestapo is involved in this case, it will become not only a murder, but also an international conspiracy. Only if you don’t solve this case, it will be ours.”
“And what will happen to us?”, Ehrman leaned forward.
“Most likely you will be fired from your positions, so I advise you to work together.”
“How was the victim killed?”, Wieland, taking the folder in his hands, carefully read what was there.
“Cause of death is a stab wound. But it’s very strange. The victim was found with signs of poison in her mouth.”
“You’re saying that she tried to commit suicide, but she had been killed before.” Ehrman said the theory out loud. Wieland handed the folder to Ehrman, who glanced at it and handed it to Adler.
“Maybe she was threatened and given a choice. When she didn’t agree to choose, they finished her off.”
The boss stopped Adler with a gesture, “You will deal with it on your own. That’s all from my side. You are free.”
With that the boss finished his meeting and after having put them out the door he got busy with other pressing matters. Now all three of them had to come to terms with it. They would continue to stand in the corridor with white walls and red and black flags resembling poisonous flowers, but the time was late and everyone understood that the sooner they would start, the sooner they would be home.
“I suggest,” began Wieland, “to get to know each other better. Let’s go to the nearest bar and get a drink, let’s not postpone the greeting for a long time.”
“Well, I am in no hurry anyway, besides, tomorrow we definitely won’t waste time on this nonsense, so I’m in,” Adler put on his cap and began to descend the steep stairs, advancing with force so that the echo of his steps filled the space.
“And you, what about my suggestion?”, Wieland turned to Ehrman.
“Well, I have no choice. Besides, you both have a point.”
Ehrman followed Adler, whistling a song to himself. His bored gaze was circling the walls with flags. Wieland took a deep breath, realizing that he would suffer a lot from these two. Sentries began to stick out of the corridors, looking at Wieland in surprise. The man understood that he had caused irritation: you couldn’t make noise here at that time. He silently indicated that he was leaving and quickly descended, trying to walk quietly along the marble staircase, where two men were already waiting for him, putting on their coats.
When they sat down at the table, the waiter offered them a menu. Having chosen snacks and strong drinks, they made an order. They had only to wait. Wieland was looking at the assortment of menus, Ehrman was staring at the waitresses, Adler took a look around the old and shabby establishment. It was not noisy here and there were practically no visitors. There was no music playing, only the quiet clinking of dishes was heard. This place was not for civilians, but Ehrman insisted on it.
Who was he? Adler squinted at the man. He was not even thirty years old, how did he get into the stormtroopers? Besides, they were not responsible for such things at all, all their duties were to spread propaganda and keep order. In this duty, they almost merged with the police.
At that time the waiter came up with their drinks. Picking up a glass of whiskey, Adler felt that his thoughts began to gradually recede. He crossed his legs, accidentally hitting Erhman with his shoe; excusing himself, he began to look out the window. Snowflakes kept hitting the window, trying to get inside through the window glass. The yellowish light gave the room a mysterious atmosphere.
Ehrman waved his hand at his apology. The number of chairs since his last visit had clearly decreased, so they still continued to be smashed over the heads of visitors in case of an altercation. He found Wieland’s behavior incredulous. Ehrman read a firm desire in his eyes to test his strength. For Erhman Wieland was a stern man with an iron character who did not want to be involved in this case and who would not do anything in principle. He’s more of a bureaucrat than a warrior, why did he start to work for the secret police? Or was he transferred there from another department? The waiter put snacks on the table and left, wishing them to have a pleasant time.
Wieland was picking at the snacks. They were tasteless and cold. The wine did not look like a decent one. Out of boredom he was studying Adler. This man, unlike Erhman, was incomprehensible to Wieland. He didn’t look like those idiots who were in security squads. He hardly wanted power, so what was the reason?
The silence dragged on, and it got on Adler’s nerves. He wasn’t counting on that.
“Wieland, did you invite us to talk or to be silent?”, Adler turning around in half a turn addressed the man.
“Well… I asked you out to get to know each other. Besides, what do you think about the victim?”
“First of all, my name is Adler Schiller, I’m a Sturmbannfuhrer, I’m twenty-eight years old and I’m married. I was awarded for special merits for solving the case of fake diamonds. Haven’t you heard?” Wieland shook his head in response. “It is known only in SS.”
“Who would doubt that you would extol your organization,” grinned Wieland.
“Of course, that’s all they teach you in the SS,” Ehrman sipped his port. Adler shot him an angry look.
“And what can you boast about in SA, dear stormtroopers? Except standing behind the backs of the SS and SD,” Adler wanted to besiege Erman, but the man was ready for this.
“Well… I’ll probably start with the fact that my name is Erhman Weber, I’m twenty-seven years old, my rank is troupfuhrer and I solved a high-profile case about stolen cars, have you heard about it, gentlemen?
They both shook their heads, Adler almost twisted his face when he saw how Ehrman beamed when he said about the case. Wieland, who was watching this, sighed — the conversation was taking a bad turn, if those two grappled, they would never be over. They were not proud of themselves, but rather of their positions.
“I will finish,” the man interrupts them, taking a word, “my name is Wieland Lange, I am thirty-one years old. I’m older than both of you. I am an Obersturmbannfuhrer. If we’re bragging about cases, I have solved a case of the illegal sale of Norwegian prisoners, but this is not so important. I participated in the First World War.
“So, you are a soldier. You have changed the work of a warrior to office routine,” Erhman exhaled in disappointment. “Why?”
“It’s not your business,” harshly answered Wieland. He did not intend to be open about his whole life. Adler, seeing that the conflict was passing from him to Wieland, realized that Ehrman was a bully, as he had assumed.
“I can now move on to the answer to the second question,” Adler intervened in their altercation so as not to linger for a long time. “Secondly,” Adler, who had been leaning back in his chair before and now leaning towards the table, said, “I can’t say much about the murdered woman. I think I’ll interrogate relatives, at least it will be productive and give us some clues.
Wieland, agreeing, added that the father and brother of the murdered woman were most likely the first to be interrogated, Adler replied that he was not so stupid to miss it.
“Then I’ll go to the apartment of the murdered woman,” Ehrman almost shouted it out. Both interlocutors agreed, making it clear that they did not want to do this job. Wieland also said that he would go to the archive to look for data on all movements and all acquaintances of the murdered woman.
No one began to argue and protest that evening, there was no point. Everyone got into the cars parked at the department and left. Under the moonless sky of the city Adler took too long to get home, stopping every ten meters — emotions took their toll. He knew this girl in the photo. Ingrid Bauman was his girlfriend and this day he found out about her death. He could not believe it. It was too implausible. He drove the car along the dark pavement and sighed heavily, not letting tears break through his self-control, which was giving a crack. He went into the apartment way after midnight and laid down on the sofa. He did not have the strength to resist the disturbing thoughts. He was laying there, the shadows cast by the curtains brought pictures of her death to him.
Wieland did not start the car for a long time, realizing that what happened to Ingrid was not just a death. She was a nice girl, she just couldn’t cross someone’s road. It did not occur to Wieland what she could have been killed for. He took a flask out of the glove compartment. Remembering how Ingrid had a negative attitude to drinking in large quantities, he put it down and started the ignition key. He would find the murderer and punish him.
Ehrman was standing by the car and inhaling the cold air for a long time after arriving at the parking lot of the house. Thinking about her booming laugh that stood in his ears. The man was looking at the dark sky of Berlin with passing clouds. Ehrman would find out who killed her, alone or with these two, but he would do it.
