‘He struck me as efficient. Well educated. Diligent. As one might expect of an officer working for a man like General Heydrich.’
‘Did you like him?’
‘What kind of stupid question is that?’
‘A fairly easy one, I’d say. Did you like him?’
Hildebrandt shrugged. ‘I did not dislike him.’
‘Can you think of any reason why someone would want to kill him?’
‘No, and my own opinion is that a Czech must have committed the crime. There are Czechs working here, in the house and grounds. My advice, Commissar, would be to start by questioning them, not senior generals in the SS.’
‘My apologies, Herr General. I was led to believe by Major Ploetz that I should conduct these interviews in strict order of seniority, so as not to keep anyone important – such as yourself – hanging around.’
Hildebrandt shrugged. ‘I see. My apologies, Commissar.’
I shrugged back.
‘However, I still fail to see why senior ranks should be questioned at all. In my opinion my word should be good enough.’
‘And what word is that, sir?’
‘That I had nothing at all to do with this man’s death, of course.’
‘I don’t doubt it, sir. However, it is not the point of this interview to find out if you murdered Captain Kuttner. The immediate purpose of this inquiry is to build a detailed picture of the man’s last few hours. And having done so, to identify some genuine suspects. You do see the difference.’
‘Of course. Do you take me for an idiot?’
I didn’t answer that. ‘You were with us all, in the library, to listen to the Leader’s speech, were you not?’
‘Naturally.’
‘And then to hear Heydrich’s speech.’
Hildebrandt nodded, impatiently. He took a last puff of his cigarette and then extinguished it in a heavy glass ashtray that lay on the table between us.
‘Do you remember Captain Kuttner bringing in some champagne after that?’
‘Yes.’
‘Did you stay celebrating very long?’
‘Yes. I confess I drank rather too much, I think. Like everyone else I have a bit of a headache this morning.’
‘Yes sir. Only I have a bigger one. I have to solve this murder. That won’t be easy. You do see that, don’t you? At some stage it’s possible I’m going to have to accuse a brother officer of killing Kuttner. Perhaps even a senior officer. I think you might try to be a little more understanding of my position, sir.’
‘Don’t tell me my duty, Commissar Gunther.’
‘With the scary badge in your lapel? I wouldn’t dream of it, sir.’
Hildebrandt glanced down at his gold Party badge and smiled. ‘You mean this, don’t you? I’ve heard that’s what some people call it. Although I can’t imagine why anyone would be scared of this.’
‘It means that you joined the Party very early on, doesn’t it?’
‘Yes. In my case it was 1922. The following year I took part in the Munich putsch. I was right behind the Leader as we left the beer hall.’
‘You must have been very young, sir.’
‘I was twenty-six.’
‘If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to you, sir? After the putsch failed.’
His eyes misted over for a moment before he answered.
‘Things were difficult for a while. Very difficult. I don’t mind telling you. Apart from the harassment I received at the hands of the police, I was short of money and I had little choice but to go and work abroad.’
He seemed relieved to be talking about something that was nothing to do with Kuttner; relaxed even, which, momentarily, was my intention.
‘Where did you go?’
‘America. There I tried my hand at farming for a while. But after that failed I became a bookseller, in New York.’
‘That’s quite a switch, sir. Did you fail at being a bookseller, too?’
Hildebrandt frowned.
‘Or did you come back to Germany for another reason, sir?’
‘I came back because of the wonderful things that were happening in Germany. Because of the Leader. That was 1930.’
‘And you joined the SS when, may I ask?’
‘1931. That is when I first met Heydrich. But I don’t see what any of this has to do with the death of Captain Kuttner.’
‘I’m coming to that, if you’ll bear with me. I suppose you must have a high regard for the standards of the SS, having joined as early as 1931.’
‘Yes, I do. Of course I do. What kind of a question is that?’
‘Do you suppose that Captain Kuttner lived up to those standards?’
‘I’m sure he did.’
‘Are you sure he did, or do you suppose he did?’
‘What are you driving at, Gunther?’
‘If I told you that Captain Kuttner was a practising homosexual, what would your reaction be?’
‘Nonsense. General Heydrich would never have tolerated such a thing. I’ve known him long enough to be quite sure of that.’
‘What if General Heydrich didn’t know about it?’
‘There are no secrets from Heydrich,’ said Hildebrandt. ‘You should be aware of that. And if you’re not, you soon will be. What he doesn’t know, probably isn’t worth knowing.’
‘Would it surprise you if I told you that there are some things even Heydrich doesn’t know?’
‘Nonsense,’ he repeated. ‘This whole line of questioning is nonsense, Commissar. Kuttner was artistic, at worst. But we don’t condemn a man for enjoying good music and appreciating good paintings.’
