The Charlemagne Murders

by Douglass, Carl;

  She handed them a list of five names culled down from fifteen after Henckel asked her to list those acquaintences of the murder victim, Carlos Aguillara-Dominguez, aka Hörst Dietsel, who would commit murder to get what they wanted or to preserve secrets.

  “These,” she said. “Remember, you promised to protect me.”

  “And we will.”

  None of the names were familiar to the police inspector or the lieutenant of detectives. The first three names were Italian; and without having to speak to each other, Henckel and de Corsos mutually agreed that these had to be Sicilian or Unione Corse Mafiosos—Dominic Rizzuto, Tony Lagomarsino, and Benedettu Paganucci. The next two were obvious German names. The policemen surmised that they were likely ODESSA or maybe organized crime figures working out of either West Germany, or perhaps from inside Cordóba—Fritzi Hoeltzel and Hänsel Stahlecker.

  “Thank you, Anna Maria. We will focus our investigation on these men. However, we cannot ignore other aspects of your ‘friend’s’ life. As you told us, Señor Aguillara-Dominguez at least once indicated that he had another name–perhaps his original one—and it was German. Hörst Dietsel, you said. Can you tell us anything more about that? Did he have meetings with important Germanic people or officials that you know about?”

  “You’re asking about the ODESSA, is that not right?”

  “Yes. That relates to how he came to live in Argentina. While we were talking earlier today, our office did some research. It is apparent that Señor Aguillara-Dominguez did not exist here in Argentina before 1945. Now, none of us are children or are naïve. The influx of Germans–at least the wealthy ones—around that time were Nazis. Officially, our government does not inquire about how such Germans got here or about their politics; and they do not allow outsiders to inquire. We—as the police–are not interested in your ‘friend’s’ former life or what help Nazi organizations gave him except as it may relate to his murder. Please think for a moment about anything that might relate to the Nazis.”

  “I know very little. He rarely mentioned anything about Germany, the war, or the Nazis. I don’t recall him ever saying that he had been a Nazi or a Nazi sympathizer. However, I know he was deathly afraid of someone in the ODESSA. He told me that much. I do remember one man’s name. Did I tell you about him? It was August Neubert—I’m pretty sure about that. I don’t know for certain, but he might have come here to the apartment. I think this Herr Neubert and Carlos were helped by the ODESSA in 1946. They were in the French section of West Germany, I think. It’s also possible that they parted ways before they came here, but one thing I do remember is that this August Neubert was perfectly willing to kill anyone who might be able to identify him or who knew where he ended up. Carlos was truly afraid of him. He had plastic surgery to hide what he looked like and changed his name of course from Hörst to Carlos. Apparently he was able to escape from Germany with the help of ODESSA agents; but he must have betrayed someone who was waiting to come. Whoever that was, he got left in a concentration camp; and Hörst had nightmares about that man. I call him Hörst now because we are talking about Germany.

  “This will maybe sound crazy, but Hörst once said that the man—or maybe more than one man—might have been French. A French Nazi in the German army. Hörst might have been drunk and confused, or maybe he was just trying to confuse me; so, I could never give clear information if the police or the Mossad ever questioned me. Sorry, that’s as much as I know about his German past.”

  “You spoke of the Mossad. Are you aware of any contact or surveillance that Israeli organization might have had with your ‘friend,’ Anna Marie?”

  “Not really. Carlos or Hörst or whatever his real name was had a great fear … how do you say in Spanish or German … unreasonable fear of the Mossad coming after him.”

  “Paranoia,” de Corsos offered.

  “That’s it. Sometimes we would walk in crazy circles or hide in an alley or in a crowded store because he thought he saw someone watching him. He was sure the Jews were after him, and the watchers had the Jewish look. He often talked very quietly about the Jews and the Israelis and about how much he hated them. When the Mossad kidnapped … the famous Nazi—I forget his name—in 1960, Carlos wanted to move to some other part of the country or even to Paraguay. He even talked to a priest in Buenos Aires about getting help to flee. When the Israelis hanged the Nazi, Carlos went so far as to travel to Asunción to find a place, but he eventually calmed down and came back. But he always was more careful after that.”

  “You mean SS-Obersturmbannführer Adolf Eichmann, do you not, Anna Marie?” Inspector Henckel suggested.

  “That’s the one. I think Hörst or my Carlos might have once worked with him or for him. He told me that when the Mossad kidnapped him, it was too close to home. He said they never gave up. They were like a pack of wolves on a carcass. Eventually they would get him, Dr. Mengele, the medical scientist who experimented on children, Ustasha Dinko Šakić, the former commandant of the Auschwitz of the Balkans [Jasenovac concentration camp], Richard Walther Darré who served as part of the Führer’s cabinet, and especially one of Hörst’s personal friends … Erich Boehme who owns a delicatessen in Manriquez-Huelsmann.

  He’s the vice president of the German-Argentinian Cultural Association there.

  “Many former Nazis live there. Maybe that would be a place for you to go to question people who might know about the ODESSA or might even know Hörst’s friends. Boehme looks just like his old SS photos. He was thinner then, but his heavily tanned arms are remarkable for having deeply cut lean muscles. He still has the face, extremities, and powerful body of a frequent outdoorsman. Anywhere else in South America Boehme would have seemed out of place—perhaps even an overzealous German tourist—but not in the transplanted German town of Bariloche.”

  “Thank you, Anna Marie. You have been very helpful.”

  “You must not ever tell anyone that I said anything about the mafia people or the ODESSA at all. I will become … how you say … paranoid also, if you do. I am sure somebody like that killed my Carlos or Hörst; and it would be very easy for them to find me and to kill me, too.”

  “Your secrets are safe with us,” Henckel assured her.

  De Corsos was not quite so sure, but he kept his doubts to himself.

  After they left Señorita Lobos, Henckel and de Corsos discussed what their next steps should be.

  De Corsos favored going to Bariloche first, and Henckel wanted to start with the Mafiosos. They compromised with de Corsos convincing Inspector Henckel that his team could get the necessary information on the IG Farben poison gasses—GB or GD—probably tabun and sarin gas. And they could find the whereabouts of the Mafiosos which would be no small task. That way the two of them—Henckel and de Corsos—could go to Bariloche where it might be easier to find information, while the rest of the team made headway into the difficult task of finding and arranging to meet the Mafiosos. That would require very senior police commanders to be part of the arrangements, and that would be time-consuming. Henckel agreed, and Detective de Corsos called Manuel de Jesus, Sargentopolicíaprovbsas Policía de la Provincia de Córdoba, PPC, and Gerhardt Möller, Oficial de Policía [Police Officer] Policía de la Provincia de Córdoba, PPC, and gave them instructions

  “You have confidence enough in your men that they can work without supervision?”

  “Absolutely.”

  “I envy and applaud you, Teniente” Henckel said, “I can’t say that I am that effective of a leader of the people directly under me. Perhaps I should be mindful of you and protect my job,” he smiled as he said it.

  §§§§§§

  Police Station 28, San Carlos de Bariloche, Rio Negro Province, Argentina, early evening

  Bariloche is an anachoristic Bavarian city situated at the bottom of the world in South America. It sits in the foothills of the Andes that form the border with Chile. The small city is surrounded by snow-covered peaks on the southern shores of Nahuel Huapi Lake. The residents of
the region call it the “Little Switzerland of South America.” It is altogether reminiscent of the Bavarian Alps; so, that appellation is warranted. The police station was a three-story gray-brown tuff stone, slate, and fitzroya cypress conifer log structure like the city center’s other official buildings. The log portion of the front of the station bore scorch mark damage not yet repaired from a recent protest over a police killing of a young thief. The thief’s father and two friends launched a protest. Protests were strongly frowned upon in the town and especially by the historically Teutonic police. It was a typical dry, windy summer evening in the Rio Negro.

  Henckel and de Corsos had called ahead to avoid appearing to be abrupt, officious, or to be imposing their superior law enforcement authority on the local officials. They made courtesy visits to the army’s 12 Regimiento de Infantería de Montaña [12th Mountain Infantry Regiment] and its Escuela Militar de Montaña [Argentine Army Mountain Warfare School], and to the German-Argentinian Cultural Association Offices. Col. Jorge DeCanzo and his adjutant, and Lt. Col. Gerd von Santiago—the commanding officers of the two important institutions respectively—greeted the police officers in full dress uniforms and graciously offered any help Henckel and de Corsos might need.

  Erich Boehme at the cultural association was less inviting and was strictly and formally polite. He was the man they had come to see, and both officers took their measure of the man without being overly obvious about it. They had photographs from his days in the SS, and he had not changed appreciably with the passage of time. His thin unsmiling face and his ramrod stiffness looked very much as they did in the formal photographic portraits taken when he was a senior SS officer during the forties. For the rest of the world, that man had disappeared from the face of the earth at the end of the war. He was thinner, but still looked the way Anna-Marie Lobos had described. He, however, did not look like an overzealous German tourist. He looked every bit the unrepentant Nazi.

  He had on brown Hansel lederhosen, a rough olive drab short-sleeved shirt, and matching knee-length stockings. His shoes were hard-soled mountain brogans which were a holdover from his strenuous rock hiking in the 1940s during his off-duty periods. Although he was an accomplished, even renowned boulderer, he never gave in to the newer thin and light shoes. He did not feel safe in them.

  “Greetings, Hauptsturmführer. We appreciate you taking time out of your busy schedule to speak with us on such short notice,” Inspector de Policia Henckel said.

  “Former Hauptsturmführer, gentlemen. And very former SS, I might add. Not many know of my association with the Reich. I trust that you have been discreet.”

  “Indeed so,” de Corsos said.

  He loathed the former Nazis with their history of atrocities and their hubris in his country, but he made a serious effort to keep that to himself.

  Henckel said, “Herr Boehme, we must meet with the police chief and then we would very much appreciate it if you would join us at Number 28—say half an hour from now?”

  Boehme grunted an almost surly affirmative reply, and the two officers left for the police station.

  Bariloche Police Chief Pedro Carriz-Mueller had set aside a small conference room on the second floor of the station. Chief Carriz-Mueller was one of the few mestizos or castizos in the city. The mixed race population in Bariloche itself was closer to two or three percent, with the rest being mostly Bavarian Europeans. The mestizo population of Argentina as a whole was about six percent. In Latin America, castizo is used to describe individuals born of the union of a European and a Native American resulting in a mixture of seventy-five percent European and twenty-five percent Native American. Although he was known to be a castizo, phenotypically, the chief looked more Southern German than he did Latin or mixed race. He was of medium height, medium weight—and not in excellent physical condition. He had brown eyes—a giveaway of his ancestry—light olive skin, dirty blond hair combed up and back in a pompadour, and a finely chiseled face. He wore a recently cleaned and neatly pressed blue police uniform with four stars on each shoulder. His large chief’s badge was prominently displayed above the left chest pocket on his uniform jacket.

  “I am afraid that it will be necessary for me to be in attendance during your questioning of Herr Boehme. There is concern about the suggestion that he might have to get into areas that the local citizens consider … delicate. I’m sure you understand.”

  “We do, Chief Carriz-Mueller. But we have a murder on our hands—one of our countrymen—and a man with a significant military history. We are here to learn what–if anything–the murder of Carlos Aguillara-Dominguez–aka Hörst Dietsel–has to do with his past or his present associations. We are determined to find his killer. As you know he is now the sixth former SS officer to be murdered in our country in the last year and a half. The president himself is determined to see to it that this spate of killings comes to an end. I am sure you are of a similar mind, Chief, are you not?”

  “Of course. Some of our better known citizens are beginning to feel threatened. Their reports to my officers seem to suggest an Israeli behind every tree. We intend to work with you, but every former German officer or enlisted man is understandably leery about what will happen to the information they give.”

  “We are interested in identifying, arresting, and bringing to justice the killer or killers of Dietsel and any other of our citizens of Germanic ethnicity. We are not—and I repeat with emphasis, we are not–interested in pursuing the manhunts being conducted by the Jewish organizations, the hypocritical Americans, and the reformed Europeans. Please assure the people we question here that we have no interest in them unless they are somehow connected with the murder or murders.”

  Chief Carriz-Mueller said, “Hauptsturmführer Boehme is waiting in the entry hall. Shall I have him sent in?”

  “Please do. I think this should prove most interesting,” said Inspector Henckel.

  “It is approaching noon, gentlemen. I will have our secretary bring lunch,” the chief said.

  Lunch Recipes for San Carlos de Bariloche

  Curanto (“Hot Stone” in Mapuche Indian)

  Ingredients

  -Sufficient amounts of pieces of beef, lamb, pork, chicken, chorizos [pork sausages], potatoes, sweet potatoes, apples, and hollowed-out pumpkins stuffed with cheese, cream, and peas.

  Preparation

  -Dig a pit about two feet deep in the ground. Start a roaring fire with available oak, mesquite, or applewood—but not aromatic woods like eucalyptus—then place river stones on top of the fire. Once the stones are heated, remove them from the fire and place in the pit. Arrange a bed of leaves on top of the stones. The selection of meats and vegetables are then stacked on top of the leaves. The food may be seasoned with a variety of spices to taste.

  -Then cover with leaves and damp sheets to keep the heat from escaping. Finally, cover the damp sheets with soil which results in the cooking process becoming something like a pressure cooker.

  -After a couple of hours, smoke and steam start billowing out of the ground. The end result is a unique and delicious meal which has a hint of smoke and a slight earthy flavor.

  Cordero Patagónico al Asador con Salsa Chimichurri Roja

  Ingredients

  For the lamb: skin, clean, and splay (butterfly) open one full fat lamb. For the red chimichurri sauce: ½ tsp black pepper, 1 tsp kosher salt, 1 tsp crushed red chili flakes, 1½ tsp smoked paprika, 1 tbsp dried oregano, 2 tbsp fresh lemon juice, ¼ bundle fresh cilantro, 1 bundle fresh parsley, 1 red bell pepper, seeds and pitch removed, 2 trimmed green onions, 6 cloves, 1 peeled garlic, ⅓ cp red wine vinegar

  Preparation

  For the lamb: Make a leña (fire of wood oak, mesquite, or applewood) and burn down to a brasa [red-hot coals]. Place whole lamb splayed out on a spit, oriented vertically over the wood fire, and slowly rotate over the central fire for at least 3 hours. It is the duty of the cocinero [cook] to marinate the meat periodically with a mix of salt, water, and local herbs, all the while test
ing the choice pieces for the perfect tenderness.

  For the chimichurr: In a food processor, combine the pepper, salt, chili flakes, paprika, oregano, lemon juice, cilantro, parsley, bell pepper, green onions, garlic, and vinegar.

  -Blend on low while simultaneously drizzling in the oil, emulsifying until it forms a wet saucelike paste. To serve, drizzle the red chimichurri on grilled meats or vegetables and enjoy. Should serve with a Malbec—a strong and slightly spicy red wine.

  Grilled Whole Cow

  Ingredients ~1400 lbs of beef, split in half, salt and pepper

  Preparation: Skin the cow, split it down the middle, and splay the salt-and-pepper-rubbed meat slabs on a sturdy metal, crosslike contraption that has one or two sharp, speared edges on the bottom. Jam the entire setup into the ground and angle toward a slow-burning wood fire, marinating frequently (butter, wine, beer, various jams) and rotating often.

  Serve: When done—as determined by the cocinero—cut off slabs of meat, chitlins, and internal organs (such as liver, kidneys, pancreas, heart) and serve with or without bone-in.

  Zapallo en Almíbar, Candied Squash

  Ingredients

  -3 cps firm squash [butternut, kabocha, acorn, or hubbard], 3 cps light rum, 1 tsp natural vanilla, 4 cps water, 4 cps sugar

  Directions

  -Peel and deseed the squash. Cut into medium-large cubes, about 1½ in. in size. In a medium bowl, combine the squash and rum and set soak for 24 hours, stirring occasionally to make sure all the cubes are covered.

  -Drain squash, discard rum. In a medium nonreactive stock pot, heat water and sugar over medium-high heat. Stir frequntly, and when the sugar is completely dissolved, add in squash and vanilla. Heat to a boil, then reduce heat but maintain the mixture at a simmer until the squash becomes translucent—about an hour.