‘Isn’t possible? Why isn’t it possible?’
‘I’m afraid, Captain, the prisoner has escaped.’
‘What? Escaped?’ said Altdorfer. ‘Nobody escapes from Dachau.’
‘Yes, sir, I know. But … well, Geismeier did.’ Altdorfer wondered how it had happened. ‘He was being interrogated. He somehow overcame his interrogator and fled in his car.’
‘When did this happen?’
‘Yesterday.’
Altdorfer thought for a moment. ‘Who was his interrogator?’
‘I am not allowed to say, Captain. The case is still being investigated.’
‘Was it SS Lieutenant Colonel Pabst?’ said Altdorfer.
There was a pause. ‘I’m not allowed to say, Captain.’
So it was Pabst. That changed everything.
Captain Altdorfer thought about visiting Pabst again but decided against it. The only thing he could ask, that he hadn’t asked the first time, would be about Geismeier’s interrogation and his escape. And since the lieutenant colonel was responsible for Geismeier’s escape, anything he would say would be self-serving and of little use. The one person he really needed to talk to was Geismeier, and that wasn’t going to happen.
Bergemann was at his desk one morning, typing up reports that were due – actually they had been due the Friday before – when a very large SS captain, his hat at a cocky angle, came into the office. He ducked his head as he came through the door.
‘Detective Sergeant Gruber?’ he said.
‘In the office, sir,’ said Bergemann, and pointed at the door. The large captain nodded, stepped to the door and knocked. Gruber looked up, seemed to recognize his visitor, and got up to let him in. The two men seemed on friendly terms. They spoke for a while and then came out of the office together.
‘Bergemann,’ said Gruber, ‘Hauptsturmführer Altdorfer is looking into Geismeier’s escape. I told him you were here when Geismeier was still with us and that you knew him. He’d like to ask you a few questions.’ He turned to Altdorfer. ‘Geismeier and Bergemann were friends back then. Sometimes I think they still are.’ He laughed. ‘A little joke,’ he said.
Altdorfer stuck out his enormous hand. ‘Albrecht Altdorfer,’ he said.
Bergemann took his hand. ‘Bergemann, Hans.’
Altdorfer looked around the office. ‘Is there somewhere we can talk, Hans?’
Bergemann took the captain into an interview room. ‘How can I help you, Captain?’
‘So, what did your sergeant mean about you and Geismeier?’
Bergemann gave an exasperated shrug. ‘His favorite joke, Captain. He hates Geismeier.’
‘And you?’
‘I liked Willi. But I haven’t seen him for years.’
Captain Altdorfer studied Bergemann for a moment, then seemed to decide to believe him. ‘You know about Geismeier’s escape …’
‘Everybody does,’ said Bergemann.
‘I interrogated Geismeier twice at Dachau myself,’ said Altdorfer.
‘Really?’ said Bergemann.
‘And he accused an SS Gestapo officer of being the serial killer.’
‘Really. Did he name somebody?’
‘Your Sergeant Gruber tells me you briefly worked on the serial-killer case yourself. I wonder whether you discovered anything that would substantiate Geismeier’s accusation. Anything at all …’
‘No, I didn’t.’
‘So Geismeier is making it up?’
‘I didn’t say that. I just didn’t find anything conclusive. Excuse me, Captain. I think I should get my case notes.’ He went to his desk, got the folder, and came back. He looked through his notes for a minute, then told the captain about the streetcar connection, that all the women had been killed along three streetcar lines. He led him back out to the bullpen where there was a large map of Munich and put his finger on Gestapo headquarters at Briennerstraße, where the three streetcar lines intersected. ‘This is as far as I got.’
The captain stared at the map, then at Bergemann, then back at the map, at Briennerstraße, where a few days ago he had been sitting in SS Gestapo Major Reinhard Pabst’s office chatting about his wife and daughters. ‘Hans,’ he said, ‘can I take you to lunch?’
The two men walked around the corner to the Gasthaus Zum Schwabinger Bach.
‘Gentlemen,’ said Elsa. ‘What’ll it be?’
Bergemann was hungry. ‘Gulaschsuppe and Weißwurst and a half liter of Hofbräu dark,’ he said.
‘I’ll have the same, Fräulein, thank you,’ said the captain.
Bergemann and the captain touched glasses – ‘Prosit!’ – and drank.
‘Hans, are you in touch with Willi Geismeier?’ said the captain.
‘No, I’m not. If I saw him, I’d have to arrest him,’ said Bergemann. ‘I have no idea where he is.’ That last statement was actually true. Bergemann had helped Willi to a safe house after his escape. And Willi had disappeared from there.
‘OK,’ said the captain. ‘OK, Hans, I believe you. Do you think Geismeier knows more about the case than you do?’
‘He probably does. Here’s what I do know, Captain. The Detective Geismeier I knew never made accusations without evidence, he never made arrests without evidence. He had the best arrest record in the department, and his arrests usually ended in convictions because he always had the evidence. Always.’
‘Really? Every other policeman I’ve ever heard talk about Geismeier says he was a serious troublemaker.’
‘That’s true, Captain. He was a troublemaker. But it’s also true he was a good cop whose arrests led to convictions. He always had good evidence. Always. Whether that’s still true, I couldn’t say.’
‘Fair enough. So, going back to your own investigation, having discovered the connection to the streetcar lines and the intersection of the three lines and all that, what would have been your next step?’
‘I was taken off the case.’
‘If you hadn’t been taken off the case.’
Bergemann opened the case notes folder once again. ‘It was kept out of the papers, but there was evidence that one of the victims had seriously injured the killer with a knife of her own. I would have looked to see whether he had been treated at a hospital or clinic. That would have been my next step.’
Altdorfer was making notes. ‘How would you have looked? Where would you have looked?’
‘Well, she was killed … here!’ Bergemann pointed at the map. ‘So I would have started looking at hospitals and clinics along that streetcar line between here and Briennerstraße.’
‘What else would you have done as a next step, Hans?’
‘Captain, I’m a little uncomfortable here. I’m supposed to be off the case;
