The Last Temptation (46 page)

He nodded, still not trusting speech. She handed him the newspaper and settled down in her chair while he read it. The headline was straightforward. Three murders - Are they linked? The text went on to point out that within the past two months, three university psychology lecturers had been found dead in suspicious circumstances. In each case, the police had been reluctant to divulge details of the deaths, except to say that each was being treated as murder. The writer went on to speculate as to whether this might be the work of a serial killer, although he had been unable to find a police source who would confirm the theory.

‘I imagine that there will be other stories in the press,’ Dr Wertheimer said as he finished. ‘I doubt they will be so restrained. So, is this what brings you to our records here?’

Tony nodded. ‘I’m sorry I wasn’t more candid with you, but we have been trying to keep this out of the public arena.’

‘I can imagine. No police officer is comfortable working in the glare of the TV lights. So, what is it you hope to accomplish here?’

‘We need to narrow down our field of suspects. Dull, boring police work involving cross-referencing various lists. It’s tedious and time-consuming for the officers involved, but it could produce a result that will save lives. My analysis of the crimes leads me to think that it’s likely someone in our killer’s immediate family was the victim of psychological torture. I was told that you hold the archives relating to chil

386

dren who were either euthanased or experimented on by Nazi doctors. I’m hoping that somewhere in your archives there is a list of survivors.’

Dr Wertheimer raised her eyebrows. ‘This was a long time ago, Dr Hill.’

‘I know. But I believe our killer is probably in his mid twenties. It’s possible that his father may have been a survivor. Or he may have been brought up by a grandparent who suffered at the hands of the people who operated institutions such as this.’

She nodded acquiescence. ‘It seems far-fetched to me, but I can see that you would want to clutch at any straw when you are trying to bring such a killer to justice. Well, we have no master list such as you speak of.’

Tony couldn’t help showing his disappointment on his face. ‘So I’m wasting your time as well as my own?’

She shook her head. ‘No, of course not. What we do have is individual lists for each of the institutions involved in this programme. There were six main centres where the euthanasia was carried out, but for each of those there were several feeder institutions. We hold records for all of these.’ She saw his look of dismay and smiled. ‘Please don’t despair. The good news is that all our data has been computerized, and so it is relatively easy to access. Normally, I would insist that you carried out ^any ^tudy here on the premises, but I can see that these are special circumstances. Perhaps you would like to contact Ms Becker and ask her to fax me a warrant that would allow me to provide you with hard copies of our data under a confidentiality agreement?’

Tony couldn’t believe his luck. For once, he’d found a bureaucrat who didn’t want to put obstacles in his way. ‘That would be extraordinarily helpful,’ he said. ‘Is there a phone I can use?’

387

Dr Wertheimer pointed to her desk. ‘Be my guest.’ He followed her across the room and waited while she scribbled down the fax number. ‘I expect it will take a little time for her to obtain the necessary warrant, but we may as well make a start. I’ll go and ask one of my colleagues to print out the appropriate data. I’ll be back shortly.’

She bustled out of the room, leaving Tony to call Petra. When she answered her mobile, he explained what he needed. ‘Shit, that’s not going to be easy,’ she muttered.

‘What’s the problem?’

‘I’m not supposed to be working on this, remember? I can hardly make a formal request for a warrant for a case that’s nothing to do with me. Have you seen the papers?’

‘I’ve seen Die Welt:

‘Believe me, that’s the least of our worries. But now that everybody knows there’s a serial killer out there, of course, they also know it’s really nothing to do with me.’

‘Ah,’ Tony said. He’d wondered when the woman who got things done would finally hit a brick wall. It was just a pity that it had happened now.

‘Let me think…’Petra said slowly. “There’s a guy in KriPo who really wants to work in intelligence. I know he’s got the right people in his pocket. Maybe I could persuade him that it would help him get a move on to my team if he pulled some strings for me on this.’

‘Is there anything that’s beyond you, Petra?’

‘This might be. Depends how sensitive this guy’s bullshit detector is. Keep your fingers crossed for me. Oh, and something very interesting came up in the Koln investigation. Marijke just emailed me about it. They found a colleague of Dr Calvet’s who remembered her saying something about a meeting with a journalist from a new e-zine, though she couldn’t swear to when they were supposed to get together.’

388

‘That confirms what Margarethe told her partner.’

‘More than that, Tony. It tells us we’re on the right track.’

He could hear a note of excitement in her voice. ‘What do you mean?’

‘The colleague remembered the alias the journalist was using.’ She paused expectantly.

‘And?’

‘Hochenstein.’

‘You’re kidding.’ He knew she wasn’t.

‘The colleague remembered it because it isn’t exactly a common name and, of course, Hochenstein has particular resonances for experimental psychologists in Germany.’

‘I bet it does. Well, at least that tells us I’m fishing in the right river.’

‘Happy hunting. I’ll talk to you later.’

He replaced the phone and walked over to the window. Dr Wertheimer had been right. This wasn’t a view for anyone who had depressive tendencies, he thought. He imagined the children cooped up behind these high walls, their lives narrowed to the prospect of death or torture. He supposed some of them were too profoundly handicapped to have been conscious either of their surroundings or their imminent fates. But for the others, those incarcerated because of their supposed anti-social behaviour or minor physical defects, the anguish must have been unbearable. To be wrested from their families and dumped here would have traumatized the best adjusted of children. For those already damaged, it must have been disastrous.

His reverie was broken by the return of Dr Wertheimer. ‘The material you need is being printed out,’ she said. ‘We have lists of names and addresses, and in many cases there are also brief digests of some of the so-called treatments they endured.’

389

‘It’s amazing that the records survived,’ Tony said.

She shrugged. ‘Not really. They never thought for a moment they would ever be called to account. The idea that the Third Reich might collapse so spectacularly and thoroughly was unimaginable for those who were part of the establishment. By the time the truth dawned on them, it was too late to think of anything else except immediate personal survival. And it soon became clear that there were far too many guilty men and women for any but the most senior to face retribution. We began archiving records in the early 19805 and, after reunification, we were able to track down most of the old ones from the East too. I’m glad we have them. We should never forget what was once done in the name of the German Volk.’

‘And what exactly was done to these children?’ he asked.

Dr Wertheimer’s eyes lost their sparkle. ‘The ones who survived? They were treated like lab rats. Mostly they were kept down here, in a series of cells and dormitories. The staff called it the U-Boot - the submarine. No natural light, no sense of night and day. They did various experiments with sleep deprivation, altering the length of the perceived days and nights. They would allow a child to sleep for three hours, then wake it and say, “It’s morning, here’s your breakfast.” Two hours later, they would serve lunch. Two hours later, dinner. Then they would be told it was night and the lights would be turned off. Or else the days would be stretched out.’

‘This was supposed to be research, right?’ Tony asked, the tang of disgust in his throat. It never failed to appal him that members of his own profession could move so far from the avowed duty to help those entrusted to their care. There was something frighteningly personal about this case, summoning as it did the images of a nightmare that had been created by men and women who must at some point have believed in

390

the therapeutic possibilities of their work. That they could have been so readily corrupted from that ideal was frightening because it was a stark reminder of how thin the veneer of civilization truly was.

‘This was indeed supposed to be research,’ Dr Wertheimer agreed sadly. ‘It was supposed to help the generals decide how hard troops could be driven. Of course, it had no practical application whatsoever. It was simply the exercise of power over the weak. Doctors indulged their own whims, tested their own notions to destruction. We had a water torture cell here where they performed acts of unspeakable cruelty both physical and mental.’

‘Water torture?’ Tony’s interest was pricked.

‘We weren’t the only institution to have such a facility. Notoriously there was also one at the Hohenschonhausen prison in Berlin, but that was for adults. Here, the subjects were children and the intent was supposedly experiment rather than punishment or interrogation.’

‘Did they force water down the children’s throats at all?’ Tony asked.

Dr Wertheimer frowned at the floor. ‘Yes. They conducted several series of experiments to test physical resistance to this. Of course, many of the children died. It takes a surprisingly small amount of water to drown a child if you force water into their airway.’ She shook her head, as if willing the images away. ‘They also used it in psychological experiments. I don’t have the details of those, but they will be in the records somewhere.’

‘Would you be able to find them for me?’

‘Probably not today, but I can have someone make a search.’ Before Tony could respond, the fax phone rang. Dr Wertheimer crossed the room and watched as the paper spewed out. ‘It looks as if your colleague has been successful,’

39i

she said. ‘It’ll take a while for everything to be printed out. Would you like to take a tour of the castle while you wait?’

He shook his head. ‘I don’t feel much like a tourist experience right now.’

Dr Wertheimer nodded. ‘I quite understand. We have a cafeteria in the main courtyard. Perhaps you would like to wait there, and I’ll bring the material to you?’

Three hours later, he was back on the road, a thick bundle of papers in a padded envelope next to him. He wasn’t looking forward to reading the contents. But, with luck, it might take them a small step closer to a killer. ™

The wind tumbled Carol’s hair and dredged the stale city air from the depths of her lungs. She could imagine how easily Caroline Jackson might have succumbed to the delights of being whisked off into the spring sunshine in a BMW ragtop roadster. What woman wouldn’t? But although part of her was enjoying the sensation of racing down an autobahn at a speed far in excess of anything she could legitimately have experienced in the UK, there was nothing unalloyed about her reactions. Carol was subsumed in Caroline, but she knew who was firmly in control.

Tadeusz had called for her at half past ten, having phoned to instruct her to dress warmly but casually while teasingly refusing to tell her why. When she’d emerged on the street to find him at the wheel of a black Z8 with the top down, he’d taken one look at the thin jacket covering her sweater and pursed his lips. ‘I was afraid of this,’ he said, going round to the boot. He produced a heavy sheepskin bomber jacket and handed it to her. ‘This should fit you, I think.’

Carol took the coat gingerly. It wasn’t new. There were creases at the elbow that proved that. She took off her own jacket and slipped her arms into the sleeves of the sheepskin.

392

il

He was right. It fit as snugly as anything in her own wardrobe. She detected the faint musk of a heavy perfume she would never have worn. She looked up at Tadeusz with a wry smile. ‘Was this Katerina’s?’ she asked. Ť

‘You don’t mind?’ he said anxiously.

‘As long as you don’t.’ Carol hid her unease with a smile. There was something unnervingly creepy about wearing Katerina’s clothes. It felt as if somewhere in Radecki’s head, the boundaries were starting to blur. And that almost certainly spelled danger for her in one way or another.

He shook his head and opened the passenger door for her. ‘I cleared out most of her clothes, but I kept one or two things that I loved to see her in. I didn’t want you to be cold today, and it seemed somehow less presumptuous than going out and buying something for you.’

She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. ‘That was very thoughtful. But, Tadzio, you don’t have to take responsibility for me. I’m a grown-up with my own platinum card. You don’t have to second-guess my needs. I’m used to meeting them myself.’

He took the gentle rebuke well. ‘I never doubted it,’ he said, handing her into the car. ‘But sometimes, Caroline, you have to give in to being pampered a little.’ He winked and walked round to the driver’s seat.

7> ‘Where are we off to, then?’ she asked as they turned left down the Ku’damm towards the ring road.

‘You said you wanted to see how things work in my business,’ Tadeusz said. ‘Yesterday, you saw the legitimate side. Today, I’m going to show you how we move our commodities. We’re going towards Magdeburg.’

‘What’s at Magdeburg?’

‘You’ll see.’

Eventually Tadeusz pulled off the autobahn and, without

\

pausing to consult a map, he took several turns that finally brought them to a quiet country road meandering among farms. After ten minutes or so, the road ended on the banks of a river. He turned off the engine and said, ‘Here we are.’

‘Where is here?’