‘Ah, Commissar Gunther, there you are. We were beginning to think you’d forgotten me.’
He was early and he knew it, but he was also a general and I wasn’t yet ready to start contradicting him.
‘I hope I haven’t kept you waiting for long, sir.’
‘No, no. I was just admiring General Heydrich’s grand piano. It’s a Bluthner. Very fine.’
He was standing right in front of the instrument — which was as big and black as a Venetian gondola — and touching the keys, experimentally, like a curious child.
‘Do you play, sir?’
‘Very badly. Heydrich is the musical one. But of course it runs in that family. His father, Bruno, was something of a star at the Halle Conservatory. He was a great man and of course a great Wagnerian.’
‘You sound as if you knew him, sir.’
‘Bruno? Oh, I did. I did. I’m from Halle-an-der-Saale myself.’
‘Someone else from Halle. That’s a coincidence.’
‘Not really. My mother was Heydrich’s godmother. It was me who introduced the General to Himmler and set him on his way.’
‘Then you must feel very proud of him, sir.’
‘I do, Commissar. Very much so. He’s a credit to his country and to the whole National Socialist movement.’
‘I had no idea that you and he were so close.’
Von Eberstein came away from the piano and stood beside me in front of the fire, warming his backside with conspicuous enjoyment.
He was in his late forties. On his grey tunic was an Iron Cross first and second class, indicating he’d been given it twice, no small feat, even for an aristocrat. Still, there was a pious air about him — a bit like a hypocritical priest.
‘I like to think of him as my protege. I’m certain he wouldn’t mind me saying that.’
The way he said this made me think that Heydrich just might mind him saying that.
‘How about Captain Kuttner?’ I asked. ‘He was from Halle, too. Did you know him well?’
‘Well enough. His father I know rather better. We were in the Army together. During the last war. Pastor Kuttner was our regimental chaplain. But for him I’m not sure I’d have fared as well as I did. He was a tremendous comfort to us all.’
‘I’m sure.’
Von Eberstein shook his head. ‘It’s a great pity that this happened. A great pity.’
‘Yes. It is, sir.’
‘And you’re quite certain it was murder and not suicide?’
‘Of course we’ll have to wait for the autopsy this afternoon to be completely sure. But I’m more or less certain, yes.’
‘Well, you know your business, I suppose.’
‘Why do you mention suicide?’
‘Only because of what happened to Albert in Latvia. He tried to kill himself there. Or at least threatened to kill himself.’
‘Exactly what did happen? I’m still a little unclear about that.’
‘I believe he suffered a nervous breakdown brought on by the difficulty of his war assignments. I mean, of course, the evacuation of the Jews in the eastern territories. Not everyone is equal to the tasks that have been set before us as a people.’
‘I wonder if you might be a little more specific, sir. Under the circumstances I think I should know all there is to know.’
‘Yes, I agree with you, Commissar. Perhaps you should.’
Von Eberstein proceeded to explain, using words and phrases that made the whole filthy business of murdering thousands of people sound like an engineering job, or perhaps an exercise in crowd control after a large game of football. It was typical of the Nazis that they should call a spade an agrarian implement; and as I listened to one weasel word after another, I felt I wanted to slap him.
‘Responding to fundamental orders issued in Berlin, Lieutenant Kuttner was assigned the task of tactically coordinating the activities of a special detachment of SS that was made up of units of Latvian auxiliary police. Throughout the summer this same detachment carried out many extensive special actions in and around the Riga area. Principally, Kuttner’s function was to perform a rudimentary census for the purpose of apprehending communists as well as identifying provincial Jews. After the census, Jews were ordered to assemble at a given location and from there they were evacuated. It was later found that some of these evacuations were carried out with unnecessary brutality, and this seems to have occasioned feelings of guilt and depression in poor Kuttner. He started drinking heavily, and following one protracted bout of drinking he threatened a superior officer with his pistol. Subsequent to that, he tried but was prevented from shooting himself. Because of these incidents he was sent home to face a court martial.’
‘Well, that’s clear enough,’ I said and watched Kahlo cover the smile on his face with a hand and its cigarette.
‘Yes, it was an unfortunate business and might have severely blighted what was a very promising career. Albert was a brilliant young lawyer. But the Reichsfuhrer is not an insensitive man and fully understands the problems that are sometimes provoked by these special actions. I talked it over with him at some length-’
‘I’m sorry, sir,’ I interrupted. ‘To clarify what you said just now. You mean you discussed Lieutenant Kuttner’s case with Reichsfuhrer Himmler, on an individual basis?’
‘That’s right. He and I agreed that it should not be held against a man that he was too sensitive for such psychologically arduous duties. Given his legal talents it was a waste of a fine mind just to allow him to be cashiered without a second chance to redeem himself. Consequently, Heydrich agreed to take Kuttner onto his personal staff; and if he had not, then I would certainly have done so. Captain Kuttner was far too able an officer to let go.’
‘You were referring to Lieutenant Kuttner, sir. This is only a few weeks ago and now he is a Captain. Am I to understand that not only was there no court martial, but that Lieutenant Kuttner was promoted Captain upon joining General Heydrich’s staff?’
‘For reasons of administrative efficiency it’s usually best if adjutants are all of an equal rank. It saves any petty bickering.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying so, sir, but Kuttner was lucky to have that kind of vitamin B. I mean, to have two patrons who can count the Reichsfuhrer-SS as a friend.’
‘Yes. Perhaps.’
‘How long have you and Reichsfuhrer Himmler been friends, sir?’
‘Oh, let’s see now. I joined the Party in 1922. And the SS in 1925.’
‘That explains the gold Party badge,’ observed Kahlo. ‘It seems as if you’ve been part of the movement since the very beginning, sir. If I’d had the good sense you had then I might be something better than a Criminal Assistant now. No disrespect intended, sir.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t always so resolute in my devotion to the Party.’
‘Go on, sir.’ Kahlo grinned.
‘No, really. There was a time — after the failure of the Beer Hall putsch and despairing of our cause — when I even left the Party.’
Von Eberstein wagged a finger at Kahlo.
‘So, you see, we all make mistakes. For three years I was-’
He paused and looked thoughtful for a moment.
‘Well, I was doing other things.’
‘Like what, sir?’
‘It doesn’t matter now. What matters now is that we find the person who murdered Captain Kuttner. Is that not so, Commissar?’
‘Yes sir.’
‘Have you any ideas on that score?’
