But the next person to testify was Inspector Norbert Menzel. When he walked up he noticed Bacheran and they smiled.
“Is it correct,” Dr. Korsch asked him, “that both East and West Homicide teams investigated the existence of a possible accomplice?”
Menzel didn’t have to think long. “Yes, that’s correct. We thought it was almost impossible that such a small, delicate woman could, in a short space of time, have killed two physically much more imposing people without any outside help. Plus Mr. Seidelmann was a sturdy man. Who did we suspect? First Mr. Muschan but he had a perfect alibi for the time of both deaths. As a matter of fact, I suspected from the beginning that Walter Kusian could be an accomplice.”
Kusian’s lover was then called to the stand. Thick set, wide shouldered, like a chivalrous and friendly knight, he looked like a woman’s dream. A real man. To Bacheran at least: His mother would have preferred a Kurt Muschan type to her actual son.
“She’s a marvelous woman,” Muschan said in an apparent effort to sound protective in the presence of Elisabeth Kusian. “We met by chance during an assignment - and it soon became a close relationship, although I’m happily married and have three children.”
The judge’s face darkened and it was evident to Bacheran that this went very much against his idea of morality. “And in spite of that you contracted an intimate relationship! How could you accept such expensive gifts from Mrs. Kusian when she herself was always so short of money? Among other things, you accepted a briefcase, a cigarette case, two pairs of shoes, a typewriter and for your wife, a watercolor, a 40 D. mark gift certificate, a 40 piece silverware set, toys for your children and also several pairs of shoes, sweets…”
But Kurt Muschan was not shamed. “Mrs. Kusian told me she had rich relatives in Thuringia who supported her financially. She said her husband had been a major. Not once did I have any reason to doubt her assurances.”
Dr. Korsch seemed astonished that Muschan could be so gullible. But, what could he do, Bacheran thought, gullibility was not a punishable offense. “And obviously you were completely unaware of the crimes being perpetrated at 154a Kantrassse…?”
“Absolutely. During all of December, Lisbeth was serene, warm and welcoming when we met at her place.”
“Even on the second day of Christmas, on December 26?”
“Yes, even on that day. I was to come and celebrate Christmas…”
“What – you left your family, just like that?!” Dr. Korsch interrupted him.
Kurt Muschan smirked: he was a lady killer type, the kind you might see in a movie. “I had to be on duty…”
“And? Go on…”
“Well, I went to Lisbeth’s but she didn’t let me inside because she had guests.”
“And that didn’t make you suspicious?”
“Why should I be suspicious? I just had to wait in a nearby restaurant until she came to pick me up. And she soon did. Her room was neat. And under the Christmas tree stood the typewriter.”
“And you really didn’t see anything surprising?” the judge insisted.
“The only thing I noticed was a brown ladies coat with velvet piping hanging on the clothes peg. Mrs. Kusian told me it had been left there by mistake because her visitors had to leave by car in a hurry.”
“That coat belonged to the victim, Dorothea Merten.”
“How could I have suspected that?”
“And that coat is now with the Homicide squad,” Bacheran said, turning to Helga.
“Homicide West,” she retorted.
Later that evening, Bacheran got a phone call from a friend at the State Attorney’s office. “Kuntze is taking Kusian to the RIAS studios right now, they’re going to listen to today’s taped proceedings. Once again, to make sure. He’s most probably got the arrest warrant in his pocket.”
38.
Early morning fog enveloped the city on January 17, 1951, the thermometer showed 0 degrees Celsius. On this the third day of the proceedings, Bacheran once again leafed through the papers as he sat on the train: he was very curious to see what the court reporters had to say. My Husband was the Murderer – Shocking turn of events in the Kusian trial, The Tagesspiegel announced. The Telegraf as well: Mrs. Kusian accuses her husband – Surprise in the double murder trial. Both papers reported that Walter Kusian had been immediately arrested in the district court room, which surely was not correct. What he found most convincing was the Tagesspiegel’s commentary which, among other things, said: The defendant should be considered a pathological liar – as both the police investigation and the course of the trial demonstrate. During her testimony she displayed a deft instinct for the imponderables of the trial responding with such speed and so cleverly that one could only react with astonishment again and again. She is not a woman who lies occasionally, she is a fantasist who constructs a new reality that she bolsters with such logic and such precision that it appears true at first. One can rightfully wonder whether Kusian still knows that she is lying or whether she has come to consider her lies as the truth.
He had once again met Helga at the Ostkreuz station and taken her in his arms: this time she had brought the Berliner Zeitung. The Kusian trial did not make the headlines in that paper. What did was a letter that Otto Grotewohl, Minister President of the GDR had written to Conrad Adenauer, and that the Chancellor had not received very warmly. The headline read: Let’s do things right: the Germans at one table!
Bacheran repeated out loud: “The Germans at one table! Well, since your leaders want you to do that, put it in practice immediately. My love, now, now it’s time we sat at one table!”
“Yes, dear, the only question is where the table will be.”
Once again they were caught in a dead end.
Bacheran read her what the citizens of Berlin had told the paper: “‘I am profoundly disappointed by the flat refusal Dr. Adenauer has opposed to Minister President Grotewohl,’ declared the well known doctor and freedom fighter from Neukölln, Dr. Pavloff…” Bernhard paused. “He must be the one with the dogs… Ah, look here, the Magistrate’s colleagues at the New City Hall: ‘Adenauer’s answer can only be described as a blow against all nation loving Germans. Adenauer acted solely in the interests of his imperialistic masters.’” As far as that was concerned Bacheran could only agree with the East Berliners. To his mind, Conrad Adenauer was as much of a divider of the German people as Walter Ulbricht. A sad topic. To get away from it he perused the article in the next column, on the Kusian trial and, to his surprise, the name Grotewohl came up again: Western radio stations and the Western media have for days on end been busy spreading a full blown Kusian mania amongst the public they serve. Naturally they put on this show for the benefit of their dear fellow West Germans and West Berliners not just to expose the wicked specimen of humanity she represents: all this noise is intended to drown out any echo from the letter sent by Minister President Grotewohl to Bonn and his recommendations for reestablishing German unity, and limit the reactions to it throughout the country. The end justifies the means, in tried and true fashion, and no murder is too foul for the hidden impresarios to use for their purposes. (…) In short, there is nothing in the Kusian trial itself that can explain how a deadly serious criminal trial has been transformed into an American style thriller.
Bacheran thought a while and turned to Helga. “There is a kernel of truth in this and I’m not saying that just to please you.”
The third day of the trial in Moabit started with a little celebration: District Court Judge Korsch was celebrating his 70th birthday on that day.
“I hope he hasn’t overextended himself with the Kusian case,” Bernhard whispered. “Maybe it’s too much for a pensioner…”
When State Attorney Kuntze spoke it was almost as if he had heard these remarks and wanted to disprove them. He gave a long explanation: “I had the witness Walter Kusian arrested yesterday because of the defendant’s statements. Whether she is to be believed or not we cannot know for sure yet. It is my duty to e
xamine every possibility in detail and objectively. On the one hand the defendant has acknowledged that she has lied throughout her life. On the other hand, what the defendant stated cannot be rejected out of hand. Therefore I authorized the arrest of Walter Kusian so that he would not have the opportunity to destroy any potential evidence. I now urgently ask the press and the radio to broadcast the following appeal: To the taxi driver who, on December 26, 1949, came to the house at 154a Kantstrasse and picked up a male customer carrying a heavy bag, please contact the police. The same appeal goes to the couple who allegedly saw a man and a woman loading heavy bags into a car on the night of December 26! I also move to subpoena Mrs. Maria Schütz to appear in court: she allegedly saw a man and a woman going down the steps carrying heavy bags.”
Bacheran could see why Kuntze insisted on these points. If there really were credible witnesses who saw both Kusians together then that meant two things: Walter Kusian was the murderer and his ex wife could only be indicted as an accessory to murder. Mm… The State Attorney turns out to be the defendant’s best defender. That was rather comical.
Dr. Korsch seemed at a loss as to how to proceed. He stated that the Prosecutor’s summons normally called for the adjournment of proceedings since neither the taxi driver nor the couple could be expected to be found in less than two days time.
Bacheran heard a loud sigh: Helga said, “All this should have been taken care of by the investigating officers in the Western sector.”
“True, that’s a professional error.” He couldn’t help but agree. But then he went back on what he just said. “How could they have suspected that Kusian would retract her confession and implicate her husband?”
In the end, the court decided to deal with several trial exhibits and to hear the witnesses that were available.
The first to be called was the widow Stöhr. At first the landlady form Kantstrasse didn’t say anything new about Elisabeth Kusian but everyone listened up when she mentioned that on December 26 her tenant had entertained another guest apart from Mrs. Merten. “A big dark woman…”
Up until then Kusian had been sitting in the defendant’s dock in an attitude of submission, looking down, but she suddenly jumped up and spoke in a bold and shrewish voice: “I don’t know any big dark woman. There was no woman at my place.”
This time, Dr. Korsch was paying attention: “Why then did you tell your friend Mr. Muschan about a woman?”
“I said many things to him that were not true.”
“You may sit down.” The judge turned back to the landlady. “Mrs. Stöhr, could you please go on telling the court what went on December 26?”
“Yes… At noon, a blond haired woman came with a typewriter. I didn’t see her myself but my mother told me about her. Later I saw the big dark lady in the apartment.”
Dr. Nikolai, the defense attorney, broke in. “Was there any light in the entrance hall? Is it possible that you only saw a shadow – and that in reality the person was Mr. Kusian?”
At this, Walter Kusian, sitting in the lower defendant’s dock, looked up in alarm.
“No, it wasn’t him. I know him.”
“I saw Mr. Kusian,” Mrs. Stöhr continued, “only at a quarter to seven: he was standing at the entrance and speaking with Mrs. Kusian. At a quarter to eleven, 10:45, exactly, Mrs. Kusian asked me to come into her room and admire the Christmas feast she had laid out for Mr. Muschan. On the table there was also the typewriter. And next to it a note with a few typewritten words: ‘I hereby swear my never ending love! Elisabeth.’”
“And did you notice anything else that you could …?”
“Yes, I did. Mrs. Kusian borrowed three glasses from me a little earlier, around 10PM.”
The judge looked a little impatient. “Mrs. Kusian, who was the third person you borrowed the glass for?”
The answer came right back: “My husband.”
Walter Kusian jumped up. “That’s not true. The only thing I can think is that my wife has lost her mind. I am innocent. If I had committed a crime I wouldn’t be so stupid as to keep the victim’s clothes in my room!”
Dr. Korsch now turned his attention to Walter Kusian. “Where were you on the evening of December 26?”
“I was at my place on Sternstrasse.”
The family of his landlords were then called to confirm his alibi, but all they could only say was: “Sorry, we have no idea.” They did not know where he was on New Year’s Eve either. “Around midnight we heard a door slam shut. It could have been him or not. In the morning of the first of the year though, he wished us a happy New Year: he looked happy, he was dressed up in party clothes,” said their 21 year old daughter.
“Miss Sielaffs, you must try and remember everything precisely. It’s a question of minutes, they will make the difference to Mr. Kusian’s fate.”
“I can’t say. “ Exhausted and crying, she sat back down.
Bacheran concluded that the court had not made a convincing case against Walter Kusian. He kept looking at the faces of the people who were being sworn in and thought he could detect a growing anti Kusian sentiment in their faces. He had the same impression when the public came into the room that was filled to capacity. There were still hundreds of people who had not secured a ticket waiting in the halls hoping for news. Even they no longer felt any sympathy for Kusian, no expression of pity was to be heard anymore. She appeared too refined, too calculating, she had been able to turn on the tears too often and had played too blatantly to the six jurors. When the verdict came, it would be decided by a two thirds majority and Kusian and her lawyers were evidently counting on the non professionals. The three experienced professional judges, who were much more difficult to impress, they considered to be less important.
The following witness was a certain Hildegard Zepter who had been a patient of Elisabeth Kusian in Robert-Koch Hospital. Her statement was clear and to the point. “At 7:30 in the morning of January 1st, Nurse Elisabeth got on the S-Bahn; my husband and I were riding the train on our way home. She was alone. She was carrying an empty rucksack under her arm. ‘Happy New Year, Nurse Elisabeth!’ I called out to her. But she didn’t answer. Instead she pressed herself into a corner seat near the window and shoved the rucksack under the seat. I had the impression that she didn’t want us to speak to her because she didn’t like being seen like this on the morning of New Year’s Day. I found her behavior very strange.”
The defendant immediately retorted: “It wasn’t a rucksack, I was returning from my husband’s place, I was carrying a grey woolen blanket.”
Bacheran wrote down in his notes: ‘This is the strongest statement yet against Kusian. The defense is going to have to think of something to counter it, otherwise they lose!’ The defense did think of something …
“We already know the reason why Mrs. Kusian made a confession a year ago,” Dr. Nicolai started. “First, because she wanted to protect her husband and second because she had been pressured by the Eastern police.”
At that moment there was a loud retort from Superintendant Pohl of the Volks Police: he was the one who had heard Kusian’s first confession and officially recorded it. “No. She was not.” It’s a violation of police duty to pressure anyone into confessing, he said.
This was met with a resounding burst of laughter on the part of the audience. Dr. Korsch felt it his duty to give his wholehearted support to the exemplary and thorough investigation the East Berlin team had conducted. “Its results are the only reliable foundation this trial has at its disposal.”
After this short interlude the defense was allowed to continue. “Let us go back to the confession… Mrs. Kusian has now recanted. As we know. So I wish to use an example to explain what the situation is now. Mrs. Kusian has stated officially that she hid Dorothea Merten’s corpse under her sofa and that she then spent the night making love with Kurt Muschan on that same sofa. This is pure fantasy, she only said that in order to put an end to the ordeal of interrogation in East Berlin. Now, let’s look …”
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What happened then was something Bacheran had never experienced before, something he would have thought absolutely unthinkable: The Moabit district court house became the stage of a Broadway play, a bedroom farce, entitled “The Sofa”. The presiding judge granted a motion to bring in the sofa from Kusian’s room.
As soon as the sofa was brought in, the judges, the witnesses and the Prosecutor stood around it. Dr. Nicolai, a heavy set man, knelt down on the floor, lay down on his stomach, rolling to the side like a ball and endeavored to force his entire frame under the piece of furniture. This failed twice since there was barely 20 centimeters between the bottom of the sofa and the floor. When he finally did manage it, the sofa’s legs were lifted a few centimeters above the floor.
“You see,” said Arno Weimann. “It’s absolutely impossible to lie down on this sofa and even less possible to make love on it.”
But Dr. Korsch was not convinced. He signaled to Walter Kusian to come over. “Lie down under here, you are approximately the same size as Mrs. Merten.”
Walter Kusian did as he was told – and lo and behold: he fit relatively easily under the sofa. When one the judges sat on it and even lay down and got up again, he stated he had not felt anything under him.
Dr. Spengler, the court Medical Examiner, who had examined both Seidelmann’s and Merten’s bodies gave the seal of scientific knowledge to the whole scene when he declared that because of the rapid changes in body mass after death, it was entirely possible to hide the body under the sofa without any difficulty.
“Thank you very much,” said the Prosecutor and the defense looked fairly crestfallen.
“We will adjourn for lunch,” the President said.
Bernhard and Helga went to the cafeteria and managed to find a table, close to the bathroom.
“The district courtroom as fair ground,” Helga commented.
“In this world everything turns into a show,” Bernhard said. He could often be very clear sighted. “But it’s nothing new really: think of ancient Rome, think of Shakespeare: the whole world is a stage – and then the Nazis.”
Cold Angel: Murder in Berlin 1949 Page 29