Hitler's Angel (21 page)

Fritz reaches for a cigarette. ‘And most of the NSDAP carried small whips with their uniforms. No one as yet had seen Hitler hit the girl. And all I had was one jealous man who claimed to have dated the girl, and that she told him that Hitler treated her badly.’

The girl grips the edge of her notebook. Her knuckles are turning white. ‘What about the paintings?’

‘What about them?’

‘Don’t they show Hitler’s unnatural relationship with his niece?’

‘Half-niece,’ Fritz says. ‘No one denied that he loved her. And the paintings, while explicit, showed nothing unnatural. In fact her body had no marks on it at all. I had enough information to confuse me, and nothing more.’

‘But you believed Eva Braun.’

‘I believed what she did not say.’ His smile is small, his stomach tight with tension. ‘Forgive me, but in those days it was not so unusual for a man to hit a woman.’

She pulls the notebook closer to her stomach as if protecting it.
‘What a of the physical evidence? You have said nothing about it.’

He shrugs. ‘Because there is little to tell. This case, unfortunately, was not Demmelmayer. It could not be solved with science. There was no gun. The fingerprints in the room were also from Geli, Hitler, Frau Winter, and Frau Reichert, and on the door were Max Amann’s as well as Rudolph Hess’s.’

‘But Hess never said he was there.’

Fritz smiles. She is at last seeing some things on her own.

‘No,’ he says, ‘but I knew he was there. I knew from the beginning there was a third man, and I knew it had to be a Brownshirt. When he was with the body, it became clear that Hess had been in the apartment that morning.’

The girl frowns, her fingers pulling at the spiral wire binding the notebook. ‘It seems to me that if Hitler’s prints were on the gun, then you have a case.’

‘And Frau Winter’s, and Geli’s. Remember we had an official suicide. So far nothing unusual in that.’ Then he smiles at her, taking pity on her frustration. He had felt the same. ‘No gun, no suspect, and a lot of motives. It would have been easier for all of us if her death had remained a suicide.’

F
ritz awoke to a loud pounding. His right arm, draped over his eyes, was asleep, and he had a cramp in his neck. Sunlight had turned the curtains opaque, making the lamps which were still on seem like ineffective competition. The pounding resounded again. He sat up, blinked, and ran his left hand through his hair. The remains of last night’s dinner still sat on the table, and the room was too hot. His shirt clung to his slightly damp body.

He got up, staggered across the room, and peered through the spyhole in the door. The man waiting in the hall was of medium height with a hawk nose and downward sloping eyes. Frown lines had formed around his mouth, making him appear unhappy, even with his face at rest.

Fritz had never seen the man before.

‘What do you want?’ Fritz asked.

‘I am from NSDAP. I would like to see Detective Inspector Stecher.’

‘You may come to the precinct and do that later this morning.’

‘I was at the precinct. I understand the Inspector is on
holiday. I would like to talk to him about the way he spends his free time.’

Fritz tucked his shirt into his pants. ‘And who are you with the NSDAP?’

‘I am the party publisher.’

Max Amann. One of the men who sent Geli’s body to Austria. Fritz pulled the door open. ‘You have five minutes.’

‘I would hope that I don’t have to spend them in the hall.’

Fritz nodded and extended a hand. Amann came inside. Fritz closed the door behind him.

‘Inspector, I understand that you are conducting an investigation into the death of Geli Raubal.’ Amann walked to the centre of the room. He paused over the dirty dishes on the table, glanced at the rumpled cushions on the couch, and conveyed his disgust through his unwillingness to touch anything in the room.

‘It’s procedure,’ Fritz said.

‘Nonsense,’ Amann said. ‘We both know that the Kripo likes to harass the NSDAP. I’m sure that the Minister of Justice would love to know that a case he closed has been reopened by a lower division.’

‘The Kripo was called to the scene. The case was closed before we had a chance to complete the paperwork. I am merely trying to fill the file.’

Amann raised his eyebrows. ‘On your off time?’

Fritz said nothing. He took a glass from the cupboard and poured himself a drink of water from the tap.

‘Just between us, Inspector, let me know why you are hounding the NSDAP.’

‘Interesting choice of words, Herr Amann. “Hounding”. I would have nothing to do if you had left the poor girl’s body in her room, and allowed the Kripo to complete its paperwork.’

‘I am sure you would have found something,’ Amann said.

‘Not if she committed suicide.’ Fritz downed the glass of water, then wiped his mouth with the back of his arm.

‘Do you doubt the Minister of Justice’s ruling?’

‘I am curious as to whether or not he had all the facts.’

‘Such as?’

‘How the girl’s nose got broken. Why the gun she was holding disappeared. Simple questions. Obvious ones.’

‘Are you implying that someone killed her?’

‘No.’ Fritz set his glass on the counter. ‘I am merely curious, that’s all. Perhaps if you tell me your story, I might understand all of this. I understand you and two of your companions took the body to Dr Zehrt for a cursory autopsy, and then had it sent out of the country. I am curious how, between the time Frau Winter called the Kripo and Dr Zehrt viewed the body, the Minister of Justice was able to look and determine the poor girl killed herself.’

Amann tugged on the lapels of his suit coat. His clothing had a military crispness. Even the tug did not dislodge the lines of his suit. ‘I would be happy to tell you, Inspector. It was clear to all of us that she had killed herself. Frau Reichert called me when she could not get Geli’s door open. I left a meeting with two of my companions, and when we arrived, we found Geli’s door locked. We tried to contact Frau Winter for a key, but we could not reach her,
so we kicked in the door. Geli was inside, with the gun in her hand. Suicide. Even her window was closed. The meeting with Dr Zehrt was a mere formality so that we could send the body to Austria.’

‘And the gun?’ Fritz asked. ‘Where is it?’

‘We left it in her room.’

‘It was gone when I arrived.’

‘Perhaps it was back in the gun cabinet. Frau Winter is efficient.’

‘The gun is missing,’ Fritz said.

Herr Amann shrugged, as if that did not concern him. ‘It was there when we removed the body.’

Fritz crossed his arms. ‘If she committed suicide, why the cover-up?’

‘Cover-up is such a strong word, Inspector. There was no cover-up. There is potential embarrassment for our leader. We thought it best to keep the story from the papers.’

Fritz swept his hand toward the papers on the floor. ‘And that didn’t work, did it?’

Amann didn’t even glance at them. He shrugged instead. ‘There are no photographs. No one has seen our grieving Führer. It is better this way.’

‘All the innuendo about murder is better than a clear-cut case of suicide?’

‘I don’t expect you to understand, Inspector.’ Amann tugged the sleeves of his shirt so that they extended a half-inch from the sleeves of his coat. Diamond cufflinks gleamed in the faint light. ‘There would be innuendo, anyway. The press does not like to believe the NSDAP, even with evidence. So it
is better to keep the most sensational aspects of the death away from them. That means no photographs, no chance to look at the Führer’s home, no chance to gawk at his life.’

‘Ah, yes,’ Fritz said. ‘Herr Hitler. Where is he? He seems to have become a ghostly figure in all of this.’

‘He is shattered by grief.’ Amann said the sentence so matter-of-factly that Fritz had to pause before understanding what he had heard.

‘Geli was the most important person in his life.’

Amann smiled. ‘Now you understand. Yes, indeed. He would do nothing to hurt her. He wanted everything for her.’

Nothing to hurt her
. A denial where none was required. ‘And yet you send her body to a country where Herr Hitler is not allowed, so that he cannot even attend the funeral.’

‘He was too distraught to travel.’

‘You knew that when you put the body on the train?’

‘Of course,’ Amann said.

‘But Hitler hadn’t even come back from Nuremberg yet.’

‘I spoke with his chauffeur by telephone. We have come into the twentieth century, you know, Inspector.’

‘I saw Hitler on Saturday night,’ Fritz said. ‘He looked as if he could travel.’

Amann smiled a slight, small smile that deepened his frown lines. ‘You do not know him. He was probably startled to see you, since the case was closed.’

‘I need to speak with him, Herr Amann. Where is he?’

‘You have no reason to see the Führer, Inspector. The girl is buried and you can do nothing to change the Minister’s ruling.’

‘You have not heard me,’ Fritz said. ‘I do not want to change the Minister’s ruling. I merely want to have a complete file on the case.’

‘You will have to complete your file without the Führer. In fact, I would call the file complete now.’

Fritz raised his chin so that he looked down his nose at Amann. ‘That sounds strangely like a threat, Herr Amann.’

‘It is no threat,’ Amann said. ‘It is advice.’

‘What are you afraid of?’ Fritz asked. ‘Closing my files should not bother you if all is as you say.’

‘The NSDAP is not popular with the authorities. Perhaps your report could be compromised.’

Fritz shook his head. ‘I have a reputation to consider, Herr Amann. I do not make accusations without evidence.’

Amann’s eyebrows furrowed. ‘And whom would you accuse?’

‘No one. Is there someone I should be looking for?’

They stared at each other for a moment. Finally, Amann said, ‘You realise that the Führer has many enemies.’

‘I am learning that life in the rarefied strata of the NSDAP is not all glory.’

‘We cannot let them think they could be successful in intimidating any part of the NSDAP.’

‘And you don’t think they feel successful just in your denials. If Geli was murdered, you are besmirching her reputation by claiming she killed herself. You are hurting your own party by saying a woman who lived with your Führer is so unhappy she has to kill herself.’

‘We don’t want an investigation.’ Amann said.

‘I believe an investigation is the least of your worries,’ Fritz said.

‘Now it is my turn to think you are threatening me.’

‘No threat,’ Fritz said. ‘Look at it outside the panic for a moment. Hitler was in Nuremberg. He was not involved. You might gain sympathy for your cause by claiming that Geli Raubal was murdered by rivals.’

‘It would show them that our security can be breached.’

‘I would think,’ Fritz said slowly, ‘they know that already.’

Amann swallowed. He pursed his lips and tugged at his lapels again.

Fritz let his arms fall to his side. ‘Let me see Hitler. Let me find out whom he believes could do such a thing. Then I will close the files, and if the papers want evidence, they can use mine.’

‘The Führer cannot talk to you,’ Amann said.

‘Why not?’ Fritz asked.

‘He will not see anyone. He is too shattered. We don’t –’ Amann stopped himself, swallowed, then tried again. ‘We don’t know if he will continue to head the party.’

Fritz suddenly felt lightheaded. ‘Are you saying he is no longer competent to lead?’

‘She is the love of his life, Inspector. He cannot even tolerate visitors. I don’t know how he can go into public.’

They also discussed who, if something were to happen, should be Hitler’s successor. Gregor Strasser was named
… Fritz licked his dry lips. ‘How long will you wait for Hitler to heal?’

‘As long as we have to,’ Amann said. ‘He is our vision.’

Fritz nodded.

‘So you see,’ Amann continued, ‘why we can’t have anything disturb him. We need him well. Time is short.’

‘Yes,’ Fritz said. ‘Time is very short.’ And getting shorter.

‘It seems odd,’ she says, ‘that he would come to you.’

Fritz smiles. He can still see Max Amann’s face, the fire in his eyes when he spoke of his Führer. ‘It is not odd,’ Fritz says. ‘They had already spoken to the Chief Inspector. That hadn’t worked. I was getting close, and they were frightened.’

‘Did he really think he could scare you away?’

‘Oh, yes.’ Fritz sighs and leans back in his chair. ‘But I had seen so much, nothing frightened me.’

‘You were not afraid then?’

He shakes his head.

‘But you are afraid now?’

He doesn’t look at her. ‘The memory, it brings with it the knowledge of the later years, of what happened to men like me when Hitler came to power.’

‘What happened?’ she asks.

‘They died,’ he says.

W
hen Max Amann left, Fritz went to the precinct to use the hated telephone. He had little time, so he used it as wisely as he could. He called Berlin, spoke to the newspaper office where Otto Strasser worked, and discovered that Strasser spoke the truth, that he had come to Munich after hearing of Geli’s death.