Naumann had the luxury of a body with a face, and there was no doubt in his mind that Griese was on his table, unless the man had a twin, and the records already confirmed he had no brothers. This was Griese. And that begged the question: how did his identity papers end up on the body of a man who just happened to have his face badly burned?
The doors to the room swung open and Vogel entered with his partner. “Hey, Doc, I got a message you wanted to see me. Did you hear back from Central Records already?”
Naumann eyed the young partner, not thrilled with the prospect of theorizing in front of someone so dedicated to the cause when the SS were involved.
Vogel yawned. “Otto, why don’t you track down some coffee for us, I’m dying here.”
Stadler sighed then brightened as he pointed to a pot sitting on a table nearby. “What’s wrong with that stuff?”
“It’s shit. The Doc couldn’t brew a decent pot of coffee if his life depended on it. And besides, would you want to drink something that was brewed in this room?”
This gave Stadler pause. “Yeah, you’re right.”
Naumann shrugged. “Fine, if my coffee isn’t good enough for you, there’s a place on the corner.” He pointed at a carafe on the table. “Take that, say it’s for me, they know how I like it.”
“How’s that?”
“Black.”
Vogel grunted. “Is there any other choice these days?”
Stadler left, saying nothing, clearly displeased with the assigned duty. Vogel held up a finger for a moment, then went to the door, evidently not trusting his partner at all. “All right, Doc, why’d I just send my partner away?”
“I’ll be quick.” Naumann handed him the file from Central Records and Vogel flipped through it, frowning, his head shaking. “What’s wrong?”
“This says our man is Corporal Griese.”
“Exactly.”
“But I’ve been assured that it can’t be.”
Naumann’s eyes widened. “By whom?”
“His commanding officer, Colonel Konrad.”
A chill ran down Naumann’s spine. He took the file and flipped to the incident report concerning “Griese’s” death. “Read this.”
Vogel did, his eyes widening. He pointed at the bodies. “Which one is our victim?”
Naumann led him to the body and pulled back the sheet. Vogel held up the page containing his photo.
“This is definitely Griese.”
Naumann covered him back up. “You know that, and I know that, but Central Records says a man died last night, badly burned including his face, and was found with our victim’s identity papers with him. Don’t you find that a little bit convenient? I mean, a badly burned face?”
Vogel nodded, handing back the file. “Well, here’s something you don’t know, that I just found out. According to his CO, our young corporal took a shot at his colonel’s dinner party last night, shattering a window, and cutting himself on the falling glass.”
Naumann tore the sheet off the body, quickly reconfirming what he already knew. “This man has no cuts.”
“That’s what I thought.” He lowered his voice. “But here’s the thing. We found blood outside the window where he took the shot.”
Naumann’s eyes widened. None of this was making sense. “A lot of blood?”
“No, certainly nothing to indicate he had died there, though the area was pretty trampled with workers dealing with the shattered window. It was Stadler’s eagle eyes that spotted it.”
“Wolfgang, what do you think is going on here? I mean, someone is lying, right? We know this is Griese. We can at least agree on that, right?”
“Yes.”
“Then the colonel must be lying. This man did not suffer cuts from glass.”
Vogel blew air out from between his lips, causing them to sputter. “There must be another explanation.”
“Such as?”
“Well, we’re assuming the man he saw bleeding outside the window was Griese.”
“You’re not suggesting he wouldn’t recognize his own man?”
“I’m suggesting it was dark outside, he was in a well-lit room, a shot had just been fired, people were panicking, and whoever was outside that window, bleeding, ran away almost immediately. Perhaps he assumed it was Griese because he’s now missing.”
Naumann held his tongue. The theory was as good as any, though he wasn’t buying it. It was just too much of a coincidence for Griese to go missing the same night as an assassination attempt on one of the colonel’s house guests. “He’d recognize the uniform, wouldn’t he?”
“Excuse me?”
“The uniform. He might not recognize the face, but he’d recognize the uniform. Whoever did this was in uniform. What are the chances of two NCOs being mixed up in two unrelated incidents on the same evening? Nil in my books.”
Vogel’s head bobbed slowly. “Agreed. I believe that Griese was the man at the window.”
“But you just said—”
“I merely proposed a plausible alternative to the colonel lying.”
Naumann frowned. “I suppose, but if you believe it was Griese, then you do agree the colonel was lying?”
Vogel shook his head. “I can think of another explanation.”
“Do tell.”
“The colonel wasn’t lying, he was mistaken.”
“About what?”
“Let’s assume it was Griese, and that he was bleeding. Colonel Konrad believes that he was cut by falling glass.” Vogel pointed at the ear with the small bullet hole through it. “I suggest he wasn’t bleeding from a cut, but was bleeding from the bullet wound he had just received.”
Naumann’s eyes narrowed. “He shot himself in the ear?”
“No, he was shot by someone else.”
“You mean he tried to be a hero and blocked the shot with his own head?”
Vogel chuckled. “Nooo, I mean someone was trying to shoot him, hit him in the ear, and the bullet went through the window, shattering the glass. The shooter ran away before the colonel reached the window to look out. All that was left was a bleeding Griese, who was immediately accused of being the shooter. He ran in a panic.”
“Then who shot him in the back?”
“That’s the question, now, isn’t it?”
Naumann stared at the wounded ear. It would have bled profusely at first, and without any evidence to the contrary, the colonel could be forgiven for thinking he had been the shooter. And if that were the case, then the only possible explanation for the bleeding he would have witnessed would have been the glass.
Who would ever think that the shooter shot himself?
“Fine, I’ll agree with you that this is a very likely explanation. There would be no need for the colonel to lie about seeing Griese bleeding. He would merely have said he saw Griese standing there, then the man ran. Why have him bleeding unless he actually was?”
“Exactly. So, we know Griese was shot in the ear, then the back, by two different weapons. Neither wound was self-inflicted, and if we assume he was indeed shot when the window shattered, then we know the two shootings were separate incidents.”
“Right. So, he was shot in the ear, that person ran away. Griese was then seen, bleeding, and then ran away when challenged. He was then later shot in the back by a larger caliber weapon, likely not by the same shooter.” Naumann shook his head. “This is one unlucky bastard.”
Vogel grunted. “Agreed.” He covered him again with the sheet. “There’s another thing I noticed when I was at the colonel’s residence.”
“What’s that?”
“The window was too high.”
“Huh?”
“The window was too high. Now, when I was there, it was boarded up, but I had to reach above my shoulder to touch the sill. You’d have to be almost three meters tall to have a chance of hitting anyone sitting at a table inside.”
Naumann exhaled slowly. “So, it wasn’t an assassination attempt.”
“Not of anyone in the party, at lea
st. Griese could have been the target, or the shooter simply wanted to scare those inside by shooting out the window, and Griese happened to get in the way.”
Naumann thought for a moment. “But that wouldn’t make sense, unless they were a horrendous shot.”
“What do you mean?”
He motioned at the body. “He’s average height and was shot in the ear. The shooter, if he was targeting the window, would have shot at the center of it. To try and hit that target, and to have also hit Griese in the ear by accident, would mean the shooter would have to be a dwarf to have an upward angle like that.”
Vogel smiled slightly. “You’re right. I hadn’t thought of that. So, that means Griese was the target all along, and the bullet went through his ear and hit the bottom of the window, shattering the entire thing.”
“A reasonable theory?”
Vogel nodded. “Yes. And again, we come back to who was the shooter, and then who was the second shooter.”
“They could still be one and the same.”
“How?”
“Well, now that we know there was some time between the two shots, in theory, the shooter could have retrieved a second weapon to finish the job.”
“Definitely possible.” Vogel eyed him. “I think you missed your calling, Doc.”
Naumann laughed, batting away the words with a wave of his hand. “Sorry, my place is here, yours is out there.” He chuckled. “Though I do enjoy theorizing with you detectives.”
“Well, if you ever change your mind, let me know.”
“So, what are you going to do now?”
“Well, there’s one big part of this that you forgot.”
Naumann’s eyes widened slightly. “What?”
“The reason you called me here.”
Naumann gasped. “Oh my God, yes! The second body already identified as our man here. I can’t believe I forgot about that.”
Vogel smiled. “So, you’ve had more time to think about it than I have. What do you think is going on?”
Naumann frowned at being put on the spot. Yes, he had been thinking about it. Nothing but, though more in the context of what would happen to him if the wrong person found out he had discovered the deception. “Umm, well, I’m assuming Griese was killed, his body stripped to hide his identity, and his papers taken at that time. Whoever took these then partially burned them so his photo was no longer visible, went to the area where the bombings took place, found a suitable victim, dressed him in the uniform, and planted the papers on him. When the body was found, the ID was used to identify the body, and it was then processed through Central Records.”
Vogel nodded. “That’s exactly what I think happened as well. There’s just one problem, however.”
“What?”
“What were their plans when the real body was found and processed through Central Records?”
Naumann scratched his chin. “Hope everyone thought it was a clerical error?”
“Somebody somewhere would still be missing a body. Somebody would be wondering why their husband or son didn’t come home and they weren’t notified. There’d be an investigation, someone would eventually discover that there was a discrepancy with the identifications of two bodies, and the error corrected. Then somebody would be asking the same questions we would be.”
Naumann sat in his chair, indicating Vogel should do the same across from him. “Whoever did this, must not have had time to deal with the real Griese. If he had disposed of the body, then none of this would be happening.”
“Not the easiest thing to do, especially if you’re alone and in a hurry. Our victim isn’t exactly a sack of feathers. I’m guessing our killer tried to move him, realized he couldn’t, so stripped him down instead and decided to plant the identity papers on another body.”
“But why do that? You’ve killed him. Who cares if someone figures it out?”
“Perhaps his identity is a clue as to who the murderer is.”
“So, what you’re saying is he killed the guy, tried to hide his identity, made Central Records believe he died innocently during an air raid, then hoped what, that the other body would just disappear?”
Vogel shook his head. “No, I’m saying either he meant to come back and deal with the real Griese, or he didn’t care if it was eventually discovered, he only cared that someone knew Griese was dead as quickly as possible.”
Naumann regarded his friend. “That makes no sense at all.”
Vogel grinned. “It doesn’t, does it? This is what happens when I think out loud rather than to myself. All the idiotic stuff is heard.”
Naumann sighed, pondering Vogel’s words when something occurred to him. “Here’s a thought. You’ve shot Griese in the back, so it’s obviously murder. You can’t go tell someone, hey, look over here, there’s a body, because you’re not supposed to be there.”
Vogel leaned forward. “Go on.”
“The problem is, you need someone to know he’s dead for some reason, so you plant the papers on someone else that will be discovered in short order, then go back to wherever you came from to establish your alibi.”
Vogel leaned back and folded his arms, his head slowly bobbing. “So, you shoot him, can’t tell anyone, but you want the authorities to know for some reason, then you take his clothes and ID, find a dead body from the bombing, dress him, doctor the papers, knowing he’ll be found during the cleanup. You head back home, and by the time the truth is known, you’re either long gone, or have an alibi that’s so tight, no one would dare question it, and with the passage of time, memories become fuzzy and you get away with murder.”
Naumann shrugged. “What do you think?”
“I think there are some serious holes in that theory.”
“Like what?”
“Well, why the time constraint?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, strip him naked, destroy his paperwork, then leave him to be found. It would take a day or two to identify the body normally, and you’d have the same situation. Enough of a delay for you to establish an alibi, and, more importantly, no questions posed as to why there are two Corporal Griese’s dead in one night.”
Naumann smiled slightly. “You mean he couldn’t risk Griese not being found.”
Vogel nodded. “Exactly. For some reason, he had to make sure someone thought Griese was dead, couldn’t tell anyone where the real body was, so in desperation created the deception, figuring the consequences were worse if he didn’t.”
“But what could possibly motivate someone to do such a thing? What kind of time constraint could they be operating under?”
“Well, if you had seen how many SS troops were on the street last night, you wouldn’t be asking that.”
“There were a lot?”
“Hundreds. Maybe thousands, I don’t know. A lot. And they were very eager to find Griese.”
“They didn’t do too good a job of it, considering he was lying naked in an alleyway.”
“You’re forgetting, nobody knew he was dead. They were searching for a man on the run, not a dead man. It’s easy to overlook a body hidden under some garbage in a dark alleyway not far from where he had first disappeared.”
Naumann eyed the door. Vogel’s young partner would be returning at any moment. “What do we do now?”
Vogel sighed. “What would you normally do?”
“Me? I’d file some paperwork showing that I had his body here, and request Central Records confirm their report. I would assume they would then start an internal investigation, then eventually get back to me with their findings. In the past, on the rare occasion there has been some discrepancy, they never provide any details beyond whether they have confirmed they were right or I was right.”
“And how often are you right?”
“Every single damned time.”
Vogel chuckled. “Of course you are.” He stood. “I suggest you do everything by the book. We never had this conversation. All we discussed was the report from Central Reco
rds, our confusion, and the fact you would report the possible error. The rest of the time, we discussed the weather while waiting for my partner to bring us a fresh carafe of coffee from your favorite café across the street.”
As if on cue, the door opened, an upset Stadler entering carrying a hot carafe of coffee. Naumann rose.
“What took you so long?”
Stadler glared at him. “I thought you said they’d know you there.”
“They didn’t?”
“No, it was a new girl. She had never heard of you.”
Naumann shrugged. “Hardly my fault now is it?” He pointed at several cups sitting on the table. “Pour, young man, pour!”
Stadler growled but poured, serving up the steaming cups in short order. He sat in Vogel’s chair with a sigh. “So, what did I miss?”
“A lovely discussion about the weather.”
Stadler eyed Naumann. “We had an urgent message for us to come here in order to discuss the weather?”
Vogel saved him. “No, the good doctor was informing us that he received a report from Central Records indicating our Corporal Griese had already been found dead last night from wounds suffered in the air raid.”
Stadler nearly spilled his coffee. “What?”
“Obviously a clerical error,” said Naumann. “I’ll be sending in the paperwork to Central Records so they can figure out what went wrong.”
Vogel sipped his coffee, walking over to the table holding Griese’s body. “The good news is that we have confirmed this is indeed Corporal Griese.”
Stadler shifted in his chair. “Not good news for him.” He chewed his lip for a moment. “Wait. The colonel said he was cut by falling glass. This guy doesn’t have any cuts.”
“No, but he does have a bullet wound to the ear that the colonel might have mistaken for a cut.”
Stadler’s eyes narrowed. “But that means there was a second shooter.”
“No, it means Griese wasn’t the shooter at all. He was shot.” Vogel drained his coffee then placed the empty cup in the sink. “Let’s go, I’ll bring you up to speed on the way back to the scene. We don’t want to delay the Doc’s report to Central Records.”
Stadler scrambled to his feet, sipping his coffee all the way to the sink before rushing after his senior partner.
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