10
Munich Police Department
“YOU WANTED TO SEE me, Chief?” Detective Inspector Thomas Bauer walked into Chief Müller’s office on Monday morning but stopped short of the desk.
In the corner, a flag of the Weimar Republic, with its horizontal stripes of black, red, and yellow.
Behind the chief, a tapestry adorned the wall of the Munich Coat of Arms, a robed figure holding a book.
The chief looked up from his paperwork. “Have a seat, Bauer.”
“No, I’m fine standing.”
“Bauer, I told you to sit.”
“I heard you the first time. I’ll stand.”
The chief let out a sigh and leaned back in his chair. “I’m ready for your apology.”
“My apology.” Bauer repeated it like a statement, not a question.
“My apology. Okay, Chief. It was disrespectful of me to suggest that you were a politician and not a cop. It was disrespectful to imply that you were more concerned with currying favor with an up-and-coming politician than in solving the murder of a talented young woman. Both of those things were disrespectful.”
The chief ran his tongue against his cheek, eyes narrowed.
“True, every word of it, but disrespectful,” Bauer added. “I should keep my opinions to myself. The next time you disgrace the uniform, which I assume will be any moment now, you will not hear it from me—that’s a promise.”
After a long pause, the chief started shaking his head, allowing a bitter grin. “Bauer, I don’t know what you think you’re doing. I could fire you right now, and nobody would blink.”
“Then fire me, sir. But I don’t think you will.”
“No?”
“No.”
Bauer was right, and they both knew it. The inspector assigned to the Raubal investigation, fired after the body was mysteriously moved and virtually every protocol of the kriminalpolizei was disregarded?
The press was all over this story. Surely the Nazis whispering in Müller’s ear didn’t want to give this narrative any new oxygen.
Bauer would be free to tell the newspaper his side.
No, the chief had to handle Bauer, keep him on a leash, keep him right where he was.
At least for now.
“Oh, I thought you might want to know.” The chief wagged his finger at Bauer and gave him a satisfied smile. “The Raubal suicide—”
“It wasn’t a suicide,” said Bauer.
“The Raubal suicide,” the chief continued, jaw clenched, “is no longer our case. The investigation has been taken over by the Justice Ministry. The JM has taken custody of her body and performed the PM. So your work is completed.”
Bauer had already figured as much after his conversation with Elie Achterberg at the morgue.
“And I’m sure you know, Inspector Bauer, that meddling with a JM investigation could get you brought up on charges. So if you have a single functioning brain cell left in that thick head of yours, you won’t go anywhere near it.”
“Well, congratulations, Chief. I didn’t think you could sink any lower.”
“Get out of my sight, Bauer. And remember—the spotlight on this case won’t last forever. When it’s gone, when everyone’s forgotten about poor Geli Raubal, you’re mine.”