The Grave of Truth (24 page)

When the door opened he came forward, and as his manservant withdrew, he lightly kissed the prostitute's hand.

‘Fraulein—this is a pleasure.'

‘Herr Kramer,' the girl responded, ‘how kind of you to invite me.'

She was a well-educated girl, who worked during the day in the sociology department of the Ministry of the Interior. She had brown hair and large blue eyes, with a delightful smile; she was expensively dressed in navy silk, with pearls round her neck and in her small lobes. She had big breasts, which made her slim body look top-heavy, but Kramer found the imbalance exciting.

He offered her a schnapps, and she pleased him by accepting. They talked and drank, and she played her part so well he almost forgot she would cost him three hundred marks at the end. He wanted to touch her, but it would have spoiled the charade. He wondered how much he would have to pay if he ripped her dress later, and decided it would be worth the money. He allowed himself the titillation of stroking her hand. She smiled delightfully into his eyes.

Outside in the tree-lined avenue Kesler and Franconi walked past the entrance. Franconi looked at his watch.

‘No one else has come,' he said. ‘She's been there over an hour.'

‘I'll drive the car round,' Kesler said. ‘You keep strolling along on the opposite side, and make sure no one else goes in or the girl comes out.'

Franconi nodded. It was a mild evening, dark but warm. He wore a hat, which was unusual, but Kesler insisted. He had become quite nervous after the debacle in the convent. Franconi did as he was told. He strolled, very slowly, along the opposite side of the road from Kramer's house. There were lights on the first and ground floors. He had seen a man open the door when the girl arrived, and it wasn't their target. There was no kiss or handshake. So there was a male servant in the house. Kesler didn't want to confront him; he was trying, in spite of their last set of instructions, to keep the accidental aspect of their contract. Franconi saw the car nose ahead of him and pull up. He walked to it and slipped inside.

‘Nothing,' he reported. ‘It's past nine. They must be having dinner.'

‘We'll wait,' Kesler said. ‘I don't think he'll come out tonight. If we're clever we'll catch them in bed.'

Franconi made a grimace. He had a real horror of heterosexuality. ‘Supposing they don't go to bed?' he said. ‘They may be going on somewhere else.'

Kesler lit a cigarette. ‘Then we'll follow them. We'll get him one way or the other, don't worry, Maurice. I have instinct for a job that's going to go well. I'm very confident about tonight. We'll take this turning and come back up again. We can park near those trees; we can see the front door perfectly from there.'

He smiled encouragingly at Franconi. His own nerves had been shaken by having to run from the convent. That nun was no fool; she'd give a very crisp description of him. But Munich was far enough away from Bonn, and Bonn in turn from Hamburg, where the last two on their contract lived. Then a flight to Geneva, to collect the money, and afterwards Tangier … He switched on the radio, and tuned into some disco music, because he knew Maurice liked it. He preferred classical himself.

Kramer's companion was called Heidi; she was twenty-four and she had been supplementing her income since she was twenty. Her family lived in the country some hundred kilometres from the capital city itself; her father had retired from medical practice after a heart attack, and he and her mother lived a quiet rural life. Heidi was their only daughter, and the family were very close. She was educated and a proficient typist, but the job with the Ministry was only adequately paid.

Heidi enjoyed good clothes, skiing holidays, and was saving for the day when she got married. She had always known she was attractive to men, and being a practical girl, when she heard that it was possible to make a lot of money doing what she had so far done for nothing, she didn't hesitate. She looked at Albert Kramer across the dining table, and toasted him in his own champagne. He wasn't her type, and she didn't particularly enjoy the ugly display of masculine aggression which he called making love. But she obviously suited him and the money was exceptionally good. He leaned across and ran his hand down her arm. She responded with a sensuous giggle. His eyes were slightly red from drink, but it didn't impair his performance.

‘Coffee?' he asked her. ‘Here, or upstairs?'

Heidi played her part perfectly. She wet her lips with her tongue, and said, ‘Upstairs.'

It was a quarter to midnight when Kesler and Franconi opened the door into the entrance hall. Franconi's early criminal background included picking locks, and this one had been easy. The security lock had not been used, in view of Herr Kramer's lady friend upstairs. The servant had gone to bed. There was a single light on in the hall.

Kesler went first; although he was the heavier of the two, he never touched a loose board. On the first floor they paused; there were no lights under the doors. Kesler beckoned Franconi and they started up the stairs again. There was a light on the landing. They switched it off. A streak of dim light showed under one of the three doors on the landing. The two men stood side by side, absolutely still and quiet, listening. It was a thick door; the house was well built. It was a little while before they could distinguish the muted sounds of a male voice. Kesler looked at Franconi in the gloom and nodded. ‘I'll deal with him,' he whispered. ‘You see to her.' He slipped a gun out of his pocket; Franconi did the same. Then Kesler closed his gloved hand round the doorknob and very slowly eased it round until the door was open.

Kramer didn't see them. He had his back to the door, and the girl was kneeling in front of him; they were both naked. She saw nothing either; her eyes were closed and she was concluding the first part of the ritual dictated by the client.

Kesler came up behind them, and laid a hand on Kramer's shoulder. Kramer gasped and swung round; the girl toppled over, caught off-balance. Kesler shot him through the right side of his head, close to the eye. The girl Heidi managed one sharp cry of fear before Franconi cut it off. He dragged her to her feet, one hand round her mouth; her eyes rolled upwards in terror. Franconi changed his hold on her, and Kesler stepped close and shot her twice in the heart. Maurice let her fall quickly; she sprawled on her stomach, blood collecting on the carpet underneath. Kesler needed help with Kramer's body. Together they managed to lift it on to the bed, and the big mirror on the opposite wall reflected the scene of death as it had done the gymnastics of sex. Kesler fitted the gun into Kramer's right hand, crooking the index finger round the trigger; he brought it up level with the bullet wound and then let the arm fall naturally. The gun slipped out of the dead hand on to the floor. Kesler looked round him quickly.

‘Murder and suicide,' he whispered to Franconi. ‘Come on, don't forget to shut the door. Hurry!' They flitted down the stairs, into the hallway and out through the front door. The porch was in shadow and for a few seconds both men sheltered, making sure no one was in the street. They left at the same time, keeping close to a line of ornamental bushes, slipped through the gate and were in their car in less than a minute. Kesler switched on, and took care not to gun the engine. They moved off silently and without undue speed. Franconi lit a cigarette and passed it to Kesler. Kesler smiled; he was in excellent spirits. Release from tension after a job always made him elated.

‘Wasn't that a classic?' he asked Franconi. ‘Perfect. Now we're on the autobahn. We can pick up a bit of speed.

‘You think anyone heard the shots?' Franconi asked.

‘No,' Kesler said. ‘Very unlikely. The servants would be on the top floor. They won't be found till the morning. And we'll be having a nice big breakfast in Hamburg by then.'

‘She's dead,' Minna Walther said. ‘I saw the grave.'

Max didn't say anything; he felt numbed with disappointment. The feeling changed to anger and he swore.

‘That was our banker,' he said. ‘The one person who could have told us where that child was, and what had happened to it!'

‘She was buried in the crypt under the chapel,' Minna said slowly. ‘I just stood there and knew we'd failed. We've come to the end, I'm afraid. My God, I feel exhausted suddenly.' He came and put his arms round her; she leaned against him.

‘Holler's waiting for us to call him,' he said. ‘I'll do that, darling. But I'm going to get you a drink first.'

She surprised him by shaking her head. ‘I don't feel like anything,' she said. ‘You talk to Holler; tell him what I found out.'

‘I will,' Max stroked the top of her head; the hair was very fine and soft. She sat on the sofa in their hotel sitting room, with her eyes closed. She heard Max go into the bedroom and ask for Holler's number at Munich police headquarters. She opened her eyes and turned her head to listen. He came back and said, ‘He's coming over right away. Albert Kramer's been found dead. Holler thinks it's another murder.'

He saw the colour rush up into her face, and wondered why she should blush rather than turn pale.

‘Albert? It's not possible—oh, my God!'

‘It looks like suicide,' Max said. ‘There was a girl with him; she'd been shot and apparently he'd killed himself. Holler's certain it was a double murder.'

‘But why? Why Albert?'

‘God knows,' Max said. ‘Except he was a Nazi. And he'd headed the firing squad in the Bunker.' He looked up at her. ‘But nobody knew about that—except ourselves and Heinrich Holler.' A few minutes later reception phoned to tell them Holler was on his way up.

‘So Gretl Fegelein is dead,' he said, looking at Minna and puffing jerkily at his cigarette. ‘Five years ago, is that right?'

Minna nodded. ‘Yes,' she said. ‘There was a date on the stone.'

Holler nodded. ‘Five years, I see. So that source of information has gone for ever. Taking the secret of Janus with her, we must presume.' He glanced at Max.

He liked Max Steiner; he recognized the type, and saw a little of himself so many years ago in the younger man. Brave without being flamboyant, independent minded; not a man who gave up easily. He was so much in love with Minna Walther that Holler didn't even speculate whether they were lovers. He had always admired her; she had dignity and composure as well as good looks. He admired her a lot less for taking Max into her bed so soon after Sigmund Walther's death.

‘Are you sure Albert Kramer was murdered?' Minna asked the question.

‘Not sure,' Holler answered. ‘Certain. We knew Kramer; he used a call-girl agency, and the one who was killed with him was a regular. There was no motive for her murder and less still for him to commit suicide. His manservant says he was in great spirits that evening; his secretary confirmed that the day was just as usual: he made appointments for the rest of the week—he was exceptionally cheerful. Nothing about his actions or appearance point to a man who is going to murder a prostitute and then kill himself. Besides, we Germans don't go in for that kind of crime. Kramer was murdered, with the girl, and then set up to look like a suicide.'

‘But why?' Max asked.

‘For the same reason as Helm and Schmidt,' Holler answered. ‘Because he knew something connected with Janus and the Bunker. I believe the same people tried to get to Gretl Fegelein in the convent. Not knowing she was dead, of course. The point is, where will they go next?' He stubbed out his cigarette, rubbing the butt to fragments of paper and tobacco. He spoke to Minna. ‘I believe something else,' he said. ‘I believe the men who killed Sigmund are picking off a list of people. Herr Steiner—you told me a man came to see your wife in Paris, and frightened her so much she left the country. Posing as a Sûreté man, isn't that right?'

‘Yes,' Max said. ‘He wasn't; as I told you, I checked. It could have been a crank, but I didn't think so.'

‘Did your wife describe him to you?'

‘Yes, she did. I passed the description on to the Sûreté. It didn't fit any of their men.'

‘Tell me what he was like,' Holler said.

‘Medium height, thin, very dark hair, blue eyes. Certainly French.'

‘Not the same as the one at the convent, then, but undoubtedly connected. The object was not to threaten your wife particularly, but to find out if you had told her anything Sigmund had told you. Fortunately for you, Herr Steiner, your wife knew nothing, because you hadn't had time to tell her.'

‘I wouldn't have told her anyway,' Max said. ‘I never discussed my work with her; she didn't take much interest in what I was doing.' He didn't look near Minna when he said it. He banished the memory of Ellie's frightened face, because his conscience was stirring while Holler talked. His family had been threatened, and he had sent them to friends while he pursued his own objective, and then fell in love with another woman.

‘The question is,' Holler went on, ‘why anyone is bothering to kill these people if the Russians actually found and disposed of Hitler's child?'

There was a moment of silence and then Max said, ‘But you said it wasn't true, they never found him.…'

‘I didn't think they did,' Holler answered. ‘But in the last twenty-four hours I've changed my mind.'

‘Why?' Minna had got up; now she was pale, unlike the moment when she blushed at the news of Kramer's death. ‘Why have you changed your mind—you've got to tell us!”

‘I don't have to tell you anything,' Holler replied gently.

‘Yes, you do,' Minna said. ‘You got Sigmund to do your work for you, looking for the child. That's why he was killed. You owe it to him to tell me why you think Hitler's child was found and murdered.'

Holler didn't answer. He hadn't visualized her as an opponent. He got up and stretched himself, buttoning his jacket. ‘What I owe Sigmund,' he said quietly, ‘is to protect you. Your visit to the convent and what you've discovered makes you as dangerous to these people as any of the others they've murdered. You're to forget about Janus, Minna and you too, Herr Steiner. From now on, it's a matter for my department. For your own safety, I would like you to get out of the country, and stay out until this business is over.'