The next few days were spared of any squalid – or even sober – reports of the strangler’s misdeeds. Stebbel and Dörfner were hoping against hope that their fantasy might actually be true: that Brunner had left Vienna for a time and was laying low, miles away from the capital.
But the brief respite was shattered on a pleasant, warm evening in early May. A university student, Elisabeth Grettin, was returning from late research at her department. Having just missed one tram, she decided to cut across the upper Ringstrasse to another tram stop, then catch a streetcar that would bring her close to her home in Lainz. But to get to this other stop, she had to pass through an area noted for its heavy presence of streetwalkers.
Not wishing to be seen in this company, Frau Grettin decided to slip into one of the back lanes where prostitutes and their clients rarely ventured. Being unfamiliar with the area, she proceeded cautiously. Suddenly, someone called out to her.
“Fräulein, you seem to have dropped something back here.”
Elisabeth turned. Right behind her stood a tall, bulky man, holding up a book.
“Oh, thank you, I must have – ”
Before she could get out another word, the man slammed the book into her face, smack on the nose, stunning her. Seconds later, he had taken her by the throat with two large, calloused hands.
She briefly tried to fight back, but was no match against the much stronger man. A full minute after the light of life seemed to have gone out of her eyes, he was still choking her. He then lowered her slightly before letting go and watching the body thud to the ground.
He bent down and picked up one of the books she had dropped after being hit in the face. He skimmed through it rapidly until he found Chapter Five. He then placed the book, still open to that chapter, over her face in a tent-like position. Standing back up, he surveyed the scene, then hurried out the slip-road exit Frau Grettin had been looking for moments before her death.
* * *
This fifth murder unleashed a storm of outrage across the capital. It was not only the stepped-up brutality (which the press had somehow gained wind of), but also the victim herself. As Werner Heissluft of the Wiener Morgenstern newspaper wrote the following day: “Not only do these grisly murders continue, spreading a corrosive fear throughout the city, but now the choice of victims has moved beyond the poor girls who sell their bodies to nameless lovers to the most delicate and innocent flowers of Viennese society.
“Frau Elisabeth Grettin, an excellent third-year student at our justly renowned university, has now given her life to the sub-human rages of a totally depraved criminal mind. This lovely young lady, who promised to contribute so much to our beautiful city and our beloved country, has now been brutally stolen from us. Yes, from all of us, and we all feel the deep loss of this tragic victim. And it is not too early to ask once again why the pampered and pompous police force of our supposedly great city seems powerless to bring an end to these murders.”
And the Heissluft barrage was not even the most overwrought article that the latest murder had set loose. The front page of the Weiner Mercur carried the following headline, in towering type: IT’S ALL EVEN NOW! JACK THE RIPPER – 5, THE SPITTELBERG STRANGER – 5.
Inspectors Stebbel and Dörfner were forced to see first-hand the brutality that Frau Grettin had undergone. Early the next morning, they made their now too-frequent visit to the police morgue to view the victim. Doktor Gressler provided a more detailed commentary as he showed them the body.
“Again, the same bruises on the neck, though wider and more intense this time. You can still see it from the colors of the bruises: note how those bruises are an intense purple, the red is still flaming, the blue is – ”
Stebbel cut him off: “Yes, yes, it’s clear that our killer is getting more diligent in his work”
Doktor Gressler nodded sadly. “Of which, there were other indications. We seem to have found a slight fracture in her nose. Evidently, the strangler hit the young lady with a hard object before or after the actual killing.”
Dörfner shook his head. “Maybe just before. To knock her off-guard, make her less able to defend herself from the choking?”
“Yes, that’s very possible. You’ll have to ask the killer about that, however. The only other witness to that moment is no longer able to speak.” He spread his hand to indicate the cadaver.
“We have many questions to ask this fiend when we get him,” Stebbel said. “That one will be somewhat low on my list,” Dörfner added.
“Oh, one other thing about the attack that I almost forgot. This time, the victim had blood running from her mouth. That came from a broken windpipe sustained during the strangulation. We surmise that he spent longer on this murder, perhaps continuing to strangle her even after she was dead.”
Stebbel turned away at this point. He felt ill. When Dörfner turned to see his partner, he noticed what he thought was a glint in the eye. Was he actually tearing?
Dörfner’s own hands had clenched and unclenched several times during Gressler’s account of the injuries and how they were most likely sustained. He felt an urge to get his own hands around the neck of the strangler and let him know what it felt like to be strangled. After staring at the corpse for a short time more, he turned and joined Stebbel. He patted him on the shoulder, trying to ease his distress.
The two inspectors threw a few more questions at Gressler as they were wrapping up the briefing, then thanked the doctor and made their way out. They remained in stoic silence as they walked down the corridor. Suddenly, just before they reached the paternoster lifts, Stebbel spun around and let forth an outburst.
“Alright, we pay Frau Keuler another unexpected visit. No, better still, we bring her in here, throw her into one of the interrogation rooms and lock the door. We get her to talk. Tell us whatever she knows. We’ll … we’ll put a lit cigar to the palms of her hands, the soles of her feet. We’ll break her fingers, starting with the little one and then working our way to the thumbs if we have to. Whatever it takes – we will get her to tell us everything she knows about her brother. We have to find out where Brunner is, where he’s hiding, and get him before he kills again.”
Dörfner was stunned, but also quite amused. “My dear colleague! And where have you been keeping this raging tiger you have inside you? You’re sounding like the cop I was always afraid I might become someday.”
Stebbel took a long, cavernous breath. He closed his eyes and slumped against the wall. Moments later, he opened his eyes and straightened up.
“Sorry; I didn’t mean any of that. Of course, we can’t torture that woman to get any information. It probably wouldn’t be reliable anyway, whatever we forced out of her. It’s just …” He turned and slapped the wall hard in frustration.
“I know, I know.”
“We have to find him, Dörfner. It’s getting to be too much. We can’t let this monster strike again. He has no right to be sharing the air of this city with any of us. He’s given up his right to enjoy life. We have to get him and stop these murders.”
“What, you think I’m going to argue with you? Offer a rebuttal? I want to get that swine as much as you do. And we will get him, we will.”
Stebbel looked his partner deep in the eyes. He held this look for about ten seconds without saying anything. Then: “Will we?”
In answer, Dörfner turned and looked down the corridor, towards the morgue. At that moment, the corridor looked even drearier than ever before.
* * *
Back in their office, the two sat almost shoulder-to-shoulder at Stebbel’s desk. Stebbel had pulled out the casebook and was starting to write down the highlights of what they had seen, what they had been told, down in the morgue. But a few sentences into the report, Stebbel slapped the pen down and shoved the book away.
“No, we have to get out there now. I can’t bear to see Rautz and Schollenberg this morning. Especially Schollenberg. Let’s get out there and start scouring the sidewalks. I’ll … I’ll go and see if I can get any useful information from the victim’s family.” He rubbed his left temple, where a tension headache was settling in. “I’ll have to go back and ask Gressler what time they came to identify the body.”
“And what should I do?”
“Why not … Why don’t you go to see the Turk. Find out if he knows anything about this Brunner. See if he … if he can provide us with any help in this matter. Maybe he can get some of his people, the really hard ones, to serve as patrols on the streets. Make sure that if Brunner turns up again, he won’t be able to kill anyone.”
“Alright. I’ll see what I can do. I have a few IOUs for favors there, so I’ll tell the Turk I’m expecting some repayment now.”
“Good. But let’s get out now, before Rautz can discuss this latest killing with Schollenberg. Our peerless District Commander usually doesn’t like to entertain any bad news until he’s had his mid-morning coffee and pastry. Let’s be long gone from here when he starts bellowing for action.”
“I couldn’t agree more”
The two then exited the office together in a rush. Dörfner headed immediately for the paternoster while Stebbel went to consult the preliminary report by the pulley police to get the address of the victim’s family.