by Andrew Wood
Rather than the violence of the bullet wound in the pale white flesh of the chest, it was the stark nakedness that seemed obscene to Marner, here in the presence of a female. He had to consciously flatten his palms against his thighs in order to resist the urge to pull the sheet back up to waist level. Lemele seemed quite oblivious to any lack of propriety and just looked fixedly at Marner, waiting for him to reveal his objective.
Approaching closer, he asked, “So what do you conclude from your examination of this one?”
“Cause of death is this single bullet wound. The angle to the entry wound is straight and level, not oblique, see?” Lemele poked her forefinger fully into the hole, keeping her finger straight to indicate how she knew this. Marner nodded and she continued, “So we can state that it was fired from approximately face-on and level height. No powder burns on the flesh or clothing, so the shot was fired from at least a metre away. The single bullet went through the heart, probably the lower right ventricle, but certainly fatal.”
“Anything else, anything unusual?”
“Only that he has some bruising around the upper arms, back and neck; here you can see the discoloration on the neck.”
Marner dipped to look. “Any idea what caused it?”
“No, there is no particular pattern or shape to the bruising. Possibly he was a manual worker, carrying heavy goods. Maybe he fell. I can only state for certain that it happened fairly recently before he died because there’s no colour degradation of the bruising, the yellowing that you see in an old bruise as it fades. This bruise is recent, within approximately twenty four hours of death.”
“Okay. What about Captain Schull?”
The Kriegsmarine officer was in a worse state than his opponent. Only two bullet wounds, but the larger calibre weapon had done more damage. “This is the wound that killed him,” indicated Lemele, pointing to the gaping mess in the centre of the sternum. “Regardless of what the bullet hit or where it finished, the fragments of bone will have gone in multiple directions internally and so caused major trauma, maybe even to the heart.”
“Would it have been instantly fatal?” asked Marner.
“I can’t say without doing a full autopsy.”
“Hmmm. Whichever, I think that it is reasonable to assume that a round of that size in the chest would have knocked him clean over and completely debilitated him, which is an important fact. In my opinion the murder scene was laid out to look as if they were battling each other, because if the shot that Schull fired at our French friend over there was fatal, he fired it at the same time that he took this one.”
Lemele nodded her agreement to this but raised her finger to attract his attention, warming to her subject, “Schull’s other wound is actually more interesting. The exit wound is at the front, as you can see from this mass of ripped muscle tissue in the shoulder, compared to the neater entry wound in the rear.”
“So he was shot from both front and behind?” queried Marner.
“Exactly. This shot in the shoulder from behind, the other one from the front. Perhaps there were two different attackers, shooting from both sides?”
“It is a possibility. More likely is that the shoulder wound was first. The impact may have spun him around or he deliberately turned to face his attacker, who then shot him again in the chest. Let’s assume that he turned and that he managed to fire off his shot almost simultaneously with his attacker’s second shot, since both shots were fatal.”
Lemele straightened and pushed her hair back from her forehead, turning to pace around the room, seemingly released from her professional duty. “So we have two protagonists who managed to fire fatal shots at each other simultaneously. Excellent, it makes for a very neat and convenient conclusion. We can put that in our reports and get on with other things.”
“I don’t agree. The theory still has a ‘fatal’ flaw in it,” countered Marner, smiling at his wit.
If Lemele caught or understood the joke, she did not let on. Again, her response was a cold and suspicious stare. “So what is this flaw?”
Marner maintained his smile, “To find that out, you have to come and have coffee with me.”
----
He had turned and left the room without waiting for a reply. It could just as easily have been explained there and then, but the nausea was rising in him and with it his breakfast; he needed to get out. Grateful that his memory of the convoluted route that they had taken through the Prefecture was correct and did not leave him floundering in some remote corner asking for directions, he was waiting in her office holding out her hat and coat when she came clacking across the lobby to the door.
“Herr Lieutenant! This is my day off, it is not my case, and I don’t....”
“Give me ten minutes,” he implored, “I promise you that my theory is interesting and will take no longer than a cup of coffee. Come on, let’s go,” he finished, thrusting her hat and coat into her unresisting grip as he turned to lead.
As they walked south over the bridge and off the Île, and then turned east along the bank of the Seine, Marner seemed oblivious to the glances from passers-by at an SS officer and civilian woman walking together. Lemele was only too aware and cringed inside, sure that they were assuming that she was his mistress, one of the crudely termed collaborateurs horizontals. She yearned to run back and tell them that it was not so. His attempts to start conversation, in both French and German, faltered into defeat in the face of her monosyllabic responses. They passed several busy cafés before Marner finally settled on one on the Quai de Montebello, facing north across the river. The edifice of Notre Dame was visible through the leaves of the trees towering up from the bank below, the south side of the steeple alternating light and dark as the sun was now forced to compete with the scudding dark rain clouds that were invading overhead.
Once served with the coffee he seemed content to sit in silence and idly scan the streets and watch the passing people. In fact his preference would have been to look at her, but what he considered to be a ridiculous Parisian penchant for placing all of the chairs facing out into the street meant that he would either have to crane his neck or move his chair.
Uncomfortable again with the looks that they were drawing from those at the neighbouring tables, ill at ease simply in his presence, she broke the silence, “Okay, tell me why you are not happy with your own theory.”
“First, please, let’s agree on our working language,” suggested Marner, wanting to be done with this game that they were both still stubbornly playing, her speaking in German and him in French. “We’re in France, so let’s work in French, and...” raising his voice immediately to ride smoothly over her coming protest, “…and that way you’ll get fewer curious looks from your fellow Parisians too, hmmm?” To which she paused and glanced around, then nodded.
“But I am curious to know where you learned your excellent German.”
“I studied for a while at the University of Leipzig. My father was a teaching professor there.”
“Really! I visited Leipzig many times when....”
Lemele cut in sharply, “Your theory? About the murder?” she prompted.
Sighing, rebuffed again in his attempt to foster any warmth from this hostile woman, he shrugged in defeat. “Well, we are currently working on the premise that both of them shot each other fatally at the same moment. Therefore Schull’s shoulder wound was inflicted first, from behind; he then turns to shoot his attacker.”
“And so....”
“I’ve seen enough to know that a shoulder wound like that, with that amount of muscle damage, would render his arm useless. But it is the same right shoulder and arm that, if the theory is correct, he then goes on to shoot with. We know that because his weapon was still in his right hand.”
Lemele’s expression confirmed that he had indeed caught her attention and, more importantly, her interest. Shuffling his chair around to face her, the better to engage with her and emphasise his point, he continued, “But how would he be able to use a
badly wounded arm to unholster his weapon and shoot? Even if he already had the gun in his hand, I still don’t believe that he would have been able to raise and fire it. And accurately enough for a shot through the heart don’t forget!”
She sat silently looking at the trees shuddering in the stiff breeze that had suddenly sprung up with the darkening sky, a rain squall approaching. “So what do you think happened then?”
“I can only think of two possibilities. Either Schull made some super-human effort to fire his pistol and was lucky enough to hit his opponent’s heart, or.... it was someone else who shot the Frenchman.”
Lemele shook her head and raised her hand. “Stop. Stop. Stop! I’m confused. You don’t think that it could have been Schull who shot him, even though the wound that killed him seems to be consistent with the calibre of Schull’s gun.”
“Exactly!” exclaimed Marner, other café patrons turning to look. “So my new theory is that there is a third person, and...”
“...that third person ran away after trying to defend Schull.”
Marner wagged his finger, “Or that third person staged the whole thing. Perhaps even shot them both.”
Turning her head to meet his gaze, she saw that he was serious and shook her head in disbelief. “Very fanciful. So how are you going to find your third person?”
“We’re inspectors! If anyone can find them, we can.”
“No! As I’ve already explained to you, patiently and at least once: I’m not the assigned officer and I don’t have authority to work on this, and especially to co....” she hesitated.
“Collaborate?” he provided.
“I was going to say ‘cooperate’!” she snapped, and Marner clearly got the message that she was not to be teased.
“Well then,” he continued smoothly, “Let us agree on what we can do individually. You have an unidentified body who is presumably a French national and therefore you have the authority to investigate, at least until tomorrow. I have the murder of a Kriegsmarine officer that I have to solve. The two are linked and we can only benefit from cooperation.”
Lemele asked warily, reticent, “So what do you suggest?”
“Simple. You try to identify our dead Frenchman; find out who he was and what possible motive he could have had for being involved. Also, you could help by asking around the crime scene, canvassing the residents. My uniform tends to make people go silent; you will get more information and assistance than I will. Even if they didn’t see anything, what did they hear: how many shots, how close together, and so forth.”
Titling her head on one side, Lemele looked out into the street at the people strolling, wishing she was there with them, uninvolved. Taking advantage of her silence and indecision, Marner continued on, “I will find out what Schull was doing in that vicinity at that time of the morning. According to the papers that were on his person, he only arrived in Paris a few days ago on a special mission, reason undisclosed to me at the moment. So we will each pursue our lines of enquiry and I will get back in touch with you in a few days to share what we find. How does that sound?”
Still Lemele continued looking around, as if one of the other clients of the café might help with the answer. Finally she nodded her agreement, not trusting her voice.
“Excellent,” beamed Marner. “I’ll be in contact soon then.” He followed to rise as she suddenly sprang to her feet and he made to offer his hand to shake for the second time that day. But she had already turned and he was left with only the view of her striding away down the street.
Chapter Four
It was the afternoon of the following day before Marner was finally able to obtain a meeting with Konteradmiral Karl Hoffmann at the OKM – Oberkommando der Kriegsmarine headquarters at the Place de la Concorde. His enquiries to the navy command through the remainder of Sunday and then Monday morning had yielded only dead ends. As with his phone call of the previous day, the few personnel at OKM who had heard of Captain Schull were either unable or unauthorised to give him any details, suggesting only that Marner should contact Schull’s department in Berlin.
Therefore, Marner had been obliged to play the rank game. This had entailed going through Sturmbahnfuhrer Odewald to convince him to go at least one level further up the command chain and then reach across to Kriegsmarine to make the required demand for cooperation. Odewald would normally have taken little interest in Marner, preferring to spend the minimum time in his office working, the maximum keeping up with the politics and gossip of the other branches of the RHSA. In this instance however, the murder of a senior navy officer in Paris titillated him sufficiently that Marner was granted ten minutes of his attention.
After listening to Marner’s explanation of the basic facts, Odewald was of the opinion that it seemed like a closed case with two bodies on ice, both of whom had killed one another; why spend more time on the subject? Marner did not feel inclined to proffer his theory; he was aware that it was tenuous at best. Instead, he evoked the possibility that this could be the beginning of something larger, a series of attacks and assassinations by the Resistance or communists. Odewald himself liked to quote that these “terrorists” were growing daily in boldness and support, all the more reason to sustain the efforts and manpower of the RHSA. Ever the political animal, Odewald took the bait that Marner cast; he would avoid any possibility of being found liable of having ignored or failed to recognise a potential threat. Odewald therefore agreed to escalate the matter through to Kriegsmarine, to obtain for Marner the assistance that he required.
It was late afternoon when Marner finally received the call to report to Hoffman at Concorde. The building had been requisitioned from the Ministère de la Marine – the French navy. It was now the main hub controlling the German naval assets around France and Italy, including those remnants of the Italian surface and submarine fleets that had fallen under German control when Italy had ceased hostilities and signed the armistice with the Allies in 1943.
Hoffman struck Marner as a relic of the old world navy, from his weather beaten and lined face to his barrel chest, the uniform’s breast almost entirely obliterated by scrolling braid and ribbons. Marner knew that Hoffman was actually an aide to the real Admiral; the Konteradmiral’s role was primarily as a stand-in and administrator for less critical and non-military activities.
Marner opened the meeting by explaining that this was definitely a murder, by someone as yet unidentified but most likely a French national who, in turn, had been shot and killed by Schull in self-defence. Assuring Hoffman that the evidence clearly indicated that Schull had been fired upon first from behind, Marner omitted his speculation regarding the improbability that Schull could have fired his weapon.
Hoffman pondered this news for a moment. “So this seems to be neatly resolved then?”
“Not at all, Herr Konteradmiral. I have no motive for the attack. We might conclude that Schull was targeted at random, simply because of his nationality and uniform. But that would mean that I have to alert my command to the potential for hostile activity and risk for all Reich personnel. That could create a lot of panic. Or I have to conclude that Schull himself was specifically targeted. To determine if the latter is a real possibility, I need to know what his mission was here in Paris. I presume that you knew of it?”
Hoffman took a few moments to survey his palatial and ornately furnished office while he considered his response. Finally, “Yes, I was fully briefed on the reason for his visit. Effectively, my role was simply to ensure that he received all necessary assistance and help in his mission.”
The pause stretched out and Marner knew that Hoffman was not going to simply volunteer the details. When pressed for more, Hoffman advised him that the mission was actually under the control of the Reich Chancellery in Berlin, above even Kriegsmarine command, at the most senior level. Therefore he was not authorised to divulge more without direct approval from Berlin to do so.
“But Herr Konteradmiral, this must be investigated immediately, by me or by some
one else. Maybe they’ll send someone from Berlin, but that will take time and, whilst I am unable to do anything, we could have more attacks on our personnel. If I don’t know where to look, then you have to assume the responsibility for the lack of action and any resulting deaths or injuries.”
Hoffman snorted derisively. “A poor attempt, Lieutenant, but I take your point. I’ve had no response from Berlin to the news of his death and therefore, in the absence of any instructions from them, I agree to let you run as the investigating officer until I am told otherwise. So I’ll give you the essential details.” He went on to describe how Schull’s mission was actually an investigation: to determine how and where gold destined for the Reichstag and the Japanese embassy in Berlin was going missing. The gold was originating from Japan and was being brought into France by submarines. After being delivered to a port under German military control, the bullion was then transported by road and rail to Germany.
When Marner broke in to Hoffman’s discourse to ask what the gold was intended for, Hoffman declined to answer or to speculate. “I can only tell you that this is not simple opportunistic theft. The gold is in the form of very heavy ingots and they are being replaced by similar sized pieces of iron and lead disguised with gold paint, presumably to enable them to pass a basic visual check. When the Japanese recently discovered one of these in their embassy vault they investigated and found others. The subsequent complaint to the Chancellery caused them in turn to check what they had received and yet more were found. In total, about four tonnes of gold is missing. Schull’s task was to follow the trail and find out who was doing it.”
Marner considered for a moment. “I don’t understand why this was being investigated by Kriegsmarine. Why wasn’t it assigned to one of the RHSA departments?”
“That is a very good question Herr Lieutenant. There are only two common factors that we have been able to establish. The first is the sea transport by submarine. These shipments made landfall at different ports, including Bordeaux, Brest, Lorient and even one at Kiel in the fatherland. In each instance and regardless of the port of delivery, the same method of theft: substitution of the gold. So it clearly shows a degree of organisation, and the same organisation in each instance.”