“Have you anything new to report?” the Privy Councillor asked.
A swift glance showed him in this face, too, that well-known and
contemptible greed for power and possession and success that stopped in
its hard determination at no degradation and no horror.
“Your written communications did not satisfy me, so I summoned you in
order to have you define more closely the methods to be used in your
investigations.” The formal phraseology hid Herr Wahnschaffe’s inner
uncertainty and shame.
Girke sat down. His speech was tinged with the dialect of Berlin. “We
have been very active. There is plenty of material. If you’ll permit
me, I can submit it at once.” He took a note-book out of his pocket,
and turned the leaves.
His ears were very large and stood off from his head. This fact
impressed one as a curious adaptation of an organism to its activity
and environment. His speech was hurried; he sputtered his sentences
and swallowed portions of them. From time to time he looked at his
watch with a nervous and uncertain stare. He gave an impression as
of a man whom the life of a great city had made drunken, who neither
slept nor ate in peace through lack of time, whose mind was shredded
from a ceaseless waiting for telephone calls, letters, telegrams, and
newspapers.
He spoke with hurried monotony. “The apartment on Kronprinzenufer has
been kept. But it is not clear whether your son may be regarded as
still occupying it. During the past month he passed only four nights
there. It seems that he turned the apartment over to the student of
medicine, Amadeus Voss. We have been watching this gentleman right
along as you directed. The style in which this young man lives is most
unusual, in view of his origin and notorious poverty. It is obvious, of
course, where he gets the money. He is matriculated at the university;
and so is your son.”
“Suppose we leave Voss out for the moment,” Herr Wahnschaffe
interrupted, still burdened by his uncertainty and shame. “You wrote
me that my son had rented in succession quite a series of dwellings. I
should like an explanation of this, as well as the exact facts of his
present whereabouts.”
Girke turned the leaves of his note-book again. “Here we are, sir. Our
investigations provide an unbroken chain. From Kronprinzenufer he moved
with the woman concerning whom we have gathered full and reliable data
to Bernauer Street, in the neighbourhood of the Stettiner Railroad
Station. Next he moved to 16 Fehrbelliner Street; then to No. 3
Jablonski Street; then to Gaudy Street, quite near the Exerzier Square;
finally to Stolpische Street at the corner of Driesener. The curious
thing is not only this constant change of habitation, but the gradual
decline in the character of the neighbourhoods selected, down to a
hopelessly proletarian level. This fact seems to reveal a secret plan
and a definite intention.”
“And he stopped at Stolpische Street?”
“He’s been there five weeks, since the twentieth of February. But he
rented two flats in this place, one for the woman in question and one
for himself.”
“This place is far in the north of the city, isn’t it?”
“As far as you can get. West and north of it there are empty lots. To
the east the roads lead to the cemeteries of Weissensee. All around
are factories. It’s an unhealthy, unsafe, and hideous locality. The
house itself was built about six years ago, but is already in a
deplorable condition. There are forty-five flats with outside light,
and fifty-nine with nothing but light from the court. The latter are
inhabited by factory hands, hucksters, people of uncertain occupations,
and characters that are clearly suspicious. Karen Engelschall, the
woman in question, has an outside flat on the third floor, consisting
of two rooms and a kitchen. The furnishings belong to a widow named
Spindler. The monthly rent is eighty marks, payable in advance. She has
a servant, a young girl named Isolde Schirmacher, who is the daughter
of a tailor. Your son lodges on the ground-floor of the inside flats
with a certain Gisevius, who is night watchman in the Borsig works.
His accommodation consists of a barely furnished living-room and a
half-dark sleeping chamber in which there is nothing but a cot.”
Herr Wahnschaffe’s eyes grew wide, under the influence of a fright
which he could not quite control. “For heaven’s sake,” he said, “what
can be the meaning of it?”
“It is a mystery indeed, sir. We have never had a similar case. There
is plenty of room for supposition, of course. Then there’s the hope
that future events may throw light on everything.”
Herr Wahnschaffe recovered his self-control, and coldly dismissed
the other’s attempts at consolation. “And what is your information
concerning the woman?” he asked in his most official tone. “What
results have you in that direction?”
“I was just about to come to that, sir. We have done our best, and have
succeeded in uncovering the woman’s antecedents. It was an extremely
difficult task, and we had to send a number of agents to different
parts of the country. The name and occupation of her father could
not be discovered, since her birth was illegitimate. Her mother is a
Frisian. She was housekeeper on a small estate near Oldenburg. After
that she lived with a pensioned tax-gatherer. After his death she
opened a small shop in Hanover, but the business failed. In 1895 she
was convicted of fraud, and spent three months in prison at Cleve. We
lost track of her after that, until she turned up in Berlin in 1900.
First she lived in Rixdorf. Next she rented rooms--first in Brüsseler
Street behind the Virchow Hospital, at present in Zionskirch Square.
She has been accused of renting rooms for immoral purposes, but nothing
could be proved against her. She pretends to be an art-embroiderer, but
as a matter of fact she practises fortune-telling and clairvoyance. To
judge by her way of living there is money in the business. She never
had but two children, Karen, and a son, now twenty-six, named Niels
Heinrich, who is known to the police as a worthless rogue and has come
into conflict with the law on several occasions. Karen has had a shady
career since her early girlhood. No doubt her mother put her up to
everything. When she was seventeen her mother is reported to have sold
her to a Dutch ship captain for five hundred gilders. She has given
birth to two illegitimate children, at Kiel in 1897 and at Königsberg
in 1901. Both died shortly after birth. In addition to the cities
named, she has lived in Bremen, Schleswig, Hanover, Kuxhaven, Stettin,
Aachen, Rotterdam, Elberfeld, and Hamburg. At nearly all these places
she was a registered prostitute. We lost sight of her between 1898 and
’99. Her circumstances seemed to have improved temporarily during that
year. According to one informant she accompanied a Danish painter to
Wassigny in the North of France. From Hamburg, where she gradually sank
lower and lower, she was brought to Berlin in the manner concerning
which we had the honour of rendering you an account in our report of
February 14th.”
Girke drew a long breath. His achievement in its architectonic
structure somehow impressed him anew. He enjoyed the methodical
arrangement of the material gleaned from so many sources, and threw
a glance of triumph at the Privy Councillor. He did not observe the
latter’s stony expression, but continued on his victorious progress.
“On her arrival in Berlin she sought out her mother, and they
rapidly became very intimate again. The mother came to visit both at
Kronprinzenufer and at all the other places. The brother Niels Heinrich
also came to see Karen--twice at Fehrbelliner Street, once on Gaudy,
and five times on Stolpische. Quarrels arose among these three persons,
which grew noisier on every occasion. On the eleventh inst., at five
o’clock in the afternoon, Niels Heinrich left his sister’s flat in a
rage, uttered threats and boasted and created an uproar in a gin-shop.
On the twelfth he came from the house in the company of your son.
They went together as far as Lothringer Street; there your son gave
the fellow money. On the sixteenth he walked up and down before the
house on Kronprinzenufer till evening. When your son, accompanied by
the student Voss, appeared in the street, he approached them. After
a brief exchange of words your son gave him money again, gold-pieces
as well as a bank note. Your son and Voss walked on together as far
as the Tiergarten, and during that time Voss seemed to be violently
expostulating with your son. The subject of their conversation is
unknown. Our agent did not succeed in getting close enough to them, and
I had other engagements that day. We are credibly informed, however,
by parties in the house on Kronprinzenufer, that Voss is often of an
extreme insolence and bitter aggressiveness which are both directed
again your son.”
Albrecht Wahnschaffe was white to the very lips. To hide the tumult of
his soul, he arose and went to the window.
The foundations were trembling. The peak of life on which he stood
was being obscured by dark fumes, even as out there the smoke and
soot which the wind blew down from the great smoke-stacks covered all
things. The chaotic noises of toil and the whir of machines floated
dully to him. On roofs and cornices lay soiled snow.
What was to be done? There were provisions in law for extreme cases;
but to have Christian declared irresponsible would not destroy the
disgrace. There was nothing to do but persuade, prevent, guard, hush up.
Words finally wrung themselves from his aching throat: “Does he
associate with any other questionable people?”
“Not that I know of,” Girke answered. “With plain people, yes; both
in the house and on the street. But he goes to lectures regularly,
and studies at home. He does not associate with his fellow students
or, rather, did not until lately. We are told, however, that at the
university his personality has aroused attention. Two days ago he
received a visit from a Herr von Thüngen, who is stopping in the Hotel
de Rome. Whether this event will have any consequences we cannot say
yet.”
With clouded brow the Privy Councillor said: “I have bought all of my
son’s possessions. The proceeds of the sale, amounting to thirteen
million five hundred thousand marks, have been deposited in the
Deutsche Bank. There are unhappily no legal methods by means of which
I can be informed concerning the use to which this money is put, and
whether not only the income but the capital is being used. Some clear
information on this point would be of importance.”
The sum named filled Girke with a reverential shudder. He lowered his
head, and saliva gathered in his month. “In addition to the thirteen
millions, your son also receives his annual income, doesn’t he?”
Herr Wahnschaffe nodded. “It is paid him by the firm in quarterly
installments through a branch of the Bank of Dresden.”
“I merely ask, of course, to have a clear view of the situation.
Considering such unlimited means, your son’s way of life is mysterious,
most mysterious. He usually takes his meals at very humble inns and
restaurants; he never uses a motor or a cab, and even the tramway quite
rarely. He walks long distances both morning and evening.”
This bit of information stabbed the Privy Councillor. It made a deeper
impression on him than anything else the detective had told him.
“I shall have due regard to your wishes in every respect, sir,” Girke
said. “The information you last referred to will not be easy to obtain.
But I shall see to it, sir, that you will be satisfied with the
services of our firm.”
That ended the interview.