2
BY THE TIME THOMAS Bauer reached the flat, he was out of breath, but not as much as the brownshirt who had run up the stairs ahead of them, and who was now standing by the door.
“You going to give me trouble, too, kid?” Bauer asked.
“No, Inspector.” He stood to the side.
He pushed past the brownshirt and was immediately surprised by the breadth of the flat. “Does this place take up the whole floor?”
The brownshirt, heading down the staircase, simply nodded.
“Must be nice,” Bauer mumbled, stepping into the parlor area, paneled in walnut. He noted a large phonograph positioned between two armchairs, and on the wall, a watercolor painting of a bridge in Vienna with A. Hitler painted in the bottom corner.
He looked to his left down the long hallway and spotted a kripo—a patrol officer in a dark uniform and peaked cap—standing outside a doorway. Standard operating procedure, holding the scene pristine for the kriminalinspektor.
Down the hall to his right, the part of the flat overlooking Prince Regent’s Street, he heard voices, conversation in hushed tones.
Two more kripos emerged from a room, but another man stepped in front of them.
He had movie-star good looks and wore a crisp double-breasted suit and an immaculately knotted tie.
“Inspector!” the man called out, extending a hand as he approached. “Rudolf Hess. The Führer’s personal assistant. I hope the boys downstairs caused no trouble.”
“No, we made fast friends. We’re meeting for drinks next week.”
Hess clearly wasn’t sure how to respond, but he was quick to snap back to the party line. He said, with a wrinkled brow, “The Führer was very upset to learn of his niece’s suicide. He is on his way back to Munich.”
“So I’ve heard,” said Bauer. “From where?”
“The Führer was on his way to a campaign stop in Hamburg when he learned of Fr?ulein Raubal’s suicide.”
Another mention of suicide. As far as Bauer was aware, not a single inspector, much less a medical examiner, had taken a look at the girl’s dead body yet, but everyone seemed to be confident of her manner of death.
Bauer decided not to press the point. “Who else is here right now?”
“My assistant, Herr Martin Bormann, is in the study with the housekeepers, Frau Anni Winter and her husband, Georg.”
“And why are you here, Herr Hess?”
“Georg found the body and called me,” Hess explained. “I came over at once and called my adjutant, Herr Bormann. And of course, I alerted the Führer, who was very upset to—”
“To learn of the suicide, yes. You and Herr Bormann are excused.”
Hess cocked his head to the side. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’d like you to leave. This is a police matter. I need to examine the scene and interview eyewitnesses. That includes the Winters. It does not include you.”
“No, that is—that is not acceptable. This is a private residence.”
“But it’s not your private residence, Herr Hess. And it is now the scene of a police investigation. So the kriminalpolizei has custody of it. Don’t worry, we won’t break any of the crystal.”
It took a long moment for Bauer’s words to sink into Hess’s brain. Several objections seemed to cross his lips but were not uttered.
“I will be in touch with you later,” Bauer continued. “I know where to find you. The mansion on Brienner Stra?e. The Braunes Haus, yes?”
“Yes, the Brown House. But… the Führer asked me to stay. This is his flat, and he asked that I remain here until he returns. I take direction from the Führer.”
“Right now, Herr Hess, you take direction from the kriminalinspektor assigned to investigate a suspicious death. This is not open to debate.”
“Really, Herr Hess, it is best for all concerned.” The assistant, Helldorff, spoke up for the first time. “This is a difficult enough situation without reading in the Post that senior officials with NSDAP were interfering with a criminal investigation.”
That seemed to blink Hess out of his intransigence. “Yes, well—very well, then. Your sensitivity to the situation is noted and appreciated.”
“Yes, we’re both very sensitive people.” Bauer even managed to smile.
After Hess and his assistant, Bormann—a dark, pudgy man—left the flat, Bauer turned to the kripo standing post by the bedroom door. “Has anyone entered the room since you arrived?”
“No, Inspector. I’ve preserved it since arriving.”
“Good man.” Bauer turned and watched Hess and Bormann leave. “I assume Hess was here before you?”
“Yes, sir. Him and Bormann. And the Winters, who live here.”
God only knew what took place before the kriminalpolizei arrived.