Rheinbund
Established Nation
Rabenau, Eiffelland
25 February 1957
Today was Roman’s funeral. Of course Weber and two of his subordinates, Kriminalmeister Eisenhauer and Schulz, went there, to observe the people attending the funeral. He was on time to see how Mr. Tackler threw Anja Sandmann out. Weber was a bit surprised that Anja showed up here; she didn’t seem really shocked about Roman’s death earlier that week. What kind of relationship was it that she had with Roman? But he was also surprised about Tackler’s vehement way of throwing Anja out. Tackler was known for his anger outbursts, but it could be expected that the man would control himself on the day of his son’s funeral.
Weber asked Schulz to go after Anja. Then he went into the church with Eisenhauer. There they saw the usual funeral visitors: Roman’s parents, his sister, his grandparents, and of course uncles, aunts and cousins. Also Roman’s school class was there, together with their form‑master. Weber and Eisenhauer were looking for people who didn’t belong to the family or the school class, but didn’t see anybody.
That became different at the burial itself. Weber had arranged for a couple of photographers who would discretely take pictures of the people at and near the grave. Anja was there on a distance, but also two other men. And Weber interested himself very much for those two other men. He and Eisenhauer followed those two men to their car. It was a beige Borgward Hansa 2400 with Landsberger licence plates. Landsberger? That reminded Weber of that old car that had been found in the Lahn almost three years ago. The driver of that car was the eldest son of the Duke of Stolzenau. That family still lived at the family castle, in the village of Stolzenau, community Landsberg. Coincidence? Can’t be different. But it was interesting that somebody from that far away was interested in a funeral here.
Weber decided to check the licence plates. It appeared that the owner of the car was a lawyer in Landsberg. C. Weber applied for a warrant for him, Eisenhauer and Schulz to conduct investigations outside the jurisdiction of the Rabenauer police. As soon as he had that warrant, he would travel to Landsberg.
Landsberg, Eiffelland
1 March 1957
Weber parked the Raimer 219 from the Rabenauer police near the house of barrister Bachmann, which also contained the office of the barrister. When he, Eisenhauer and Schulz got out of the car, they immediately saw the beige Borgward they saw at Roman’s funeral.
“At least now we know that there is a kind of a link between this lawyer and Roman’s death, whatever that link may be,” Weber said. He walked to the front door of Bachmann’s office together with Eisenhauer, and rang. Schulz walked around the house to take pictures and do some other investigations.
A woman opened the door for Weber and Eisenhauer, and let them in. Then she showed them into the waiting room, and asked if they had an appointment.
“No, we don’t have an appointment, but we do need to talk to Mr. Bachmann,” Weber said.
“Sorry, but Mr. Bachmann’s agenda is completely full for today. It would have been better if you would have made an appointment,” the woman said.
“Also if we are here for the investigation in a murder case, gnädige Frau?” Weber asked while taking his police ID and his warrant to investigate outside his district out of his jacket’s inner pocket.
“I will ask this to Mr. Bachmann,” the woman said, and left the waiting room.
A few minutes later, Bachmann entered the waiting room.
“Good morning gentlemen. What can I do for you?” he asked. “My secretary told me that you are investigating a murder case. I’m really wondering what makes that I’m involved in it.”
“Good morning Mr. Bachmann,” Weber said. “I have a few questions to you regarding the murder case of the 15 year old Roman Tackler. He was murdered about 10 days ago in Rabenau.”
Bachmann’s face remained neutral. “15 year old you say? How horrible to die at such a young age,” he said. “But how did you end up here? Rabenau is … how far away? Must be around 500 kilometers, if not more. How can I be involved in it?”
“That is a question we ourselves are trying to answer, Mr. Bachmann. Fact is, that we saw two men observing Roman’s burial. They stepped into a beige Borgward Hansa 2400 with licence number LAB DRA 50. Here are some pictures of the car in question.”
Colour pictures were still expensive. Therefore, the pictures Weber showed to Bachmann were in black and white. As a result, the colour of the car was not clear, but the licence plate was. Also the faces of the two men stepping into the car were clearly visible and recognisable.
“That isn’t my car,” Bachmann said. “Somebody must have falsified the licence plates.”
“How can you be so sure that it isn’t your car, Mr. Bachmann?” Eisenhauer asked. “We saw a beige Borgward Hansa 2400 on the parking lot here. Licence plate LAB DRA 50. And with a scratch exactly here.” Eisenhauer pointed his finger on one of the pictures of the car. “Exactly on the same place as here on this picture. Mr. Bachmann. Of course you are not the only owner of a beige Borgward Hansa 2400, but it is highly coincidental that there are two cars of exactly the same brand, type and colour with exactly the same scratch on it. This means that it is your car that we have on the pictures here. And that means that it was your car that we saw in Rabenau last Saturday.”
“Our conversation has ended,” Bachmann said coldly. “Fräulein Brick, could you please lead our guests to the door?”
“Mr. Bachmann, you will help yourself into trouble with this,” Weber said. “Believe me, a barrister in need of a barrister is in a bad situation.”
“Our conversation has ended, Herr Polizist,” Bachmann said with emphasis.
Schulz was already sitting in the car, when Weber and Eisenhauer arrived there.
“I have something nice to tell,” Schulz said. “Those two men from the funeral, I saw them inside Bachmann’s house, sitting at a desk.”
“Good job. Do you have a picture of them?” Weber asked.
“Of course I have,” Schulz said.
“Good. Thank you,” Weber said.
“What did Bachmann say?” Schulz asked.
“Not much. First he said that it wasn’t his car that we saw at the funeral, but when we made clear that it was his car, he threw us out. Something is going on here,” Weber said. “First let’s find out who Bachmann’s clerks are.”
25 February 1957
Today was Roman’s funeral. Of course Weber and two of his subordinates, Kriminalmeister Eisenhauer and Schulz, went there, to observe the people attending the funeral. He was on time to see how Mr. Tackler threw Anja Sandmann out. Weber was a bit surprised that Anja showed up here; she didn’t seem really shocked about Roman’s death earlier that week. What kind of relationship was it that she had with Roman? But he was also surprised about Tackler’s vehement way of throwing Anja out. Tackler was known for his anger outbursts, but it could be expected that the man would control himself on the day of his son’s funeral.
Weber asked Schulz to go after Anja. Then he went into the church with Eisenhauer. There they saw the usual funeral visitors: Roman’s parents, his sister, his grandparents, and of course uncles, aunts and cousins. Also Roman’s school class was there, together with their form‑master. Weber and Eisenhauer were looking for people who didn’t belong to the family or the school class, but didn’t see anybody.
That became different at the burial itself. Weber had arranged for a couple of photographers who would discretely take pictures of the people at and near the grave. Anja was there on a distance, but also two other men. And Weber interested himself very much for those two other men. He and Eisenhauer followed those two men to their car. It was a beige Borgward Hansa 2400 with Landsberger licence plates. Landsberger? That reminded Weber of that old car that had been found in the Lahn almost three years ago. The driver of that car was the eldest son of the Duke of Stolzenau. That family still lived at the family castle, in the village of Stolzenau, community Landsberg. Coincidence? Can’t be different. But it was interesting that somebody from that far away was interested in a funeral here.
Weber decided to check the licence plates. It appeared that the owner of the car was a lawyer in Landsberg. C. Weber applied for a warrant for him, Eisenhauer and Schulz to conduct investigations outside the jurisdiction of the Rabenauer police. As soon as he had that warrant, he would travel to Landsberg.
Landsberg, Eiffelland
1 March 1957
Weber parked the Raimer 219 from the Rabenauer police near the house of barrister Bachmann, which also contained the office of the barrister. When he, Eisenhauer and Schulz got out of the car, they immediately saw the beige Borgward they saw at Roman’s funeral.
“At least now we know that there is a kind of a link between this lawyer and Roman’s death, whatever that link may be,” Weber said. He walked to the front door of Bachmann’s office together with Eisenhauer, and rang. Schulz walked around the house to take pictures and do some other investigations.
A woman opened the door for Weber and Eisenhauer, and let them in. Then she showed them into the waiting room, and asked if they had an appointment.
“No, we don’t have an appointment, but we do need to talk to Mr. Bachmann,” Weber said.
“Sorry, but Mr. Bachmann’s agenda is completely full for today. It would have been better if you would have made an appointment,” the woman said.
“Also if we are here for the investigation in a murder case, gnädige Frau?” Weber asked while taking his police ID and his warrant to investigate outside his district out of his jacket’s inner pocket.
“I will ask this to Mr. Bachmann,” the woman said, and left the waiting room.
A few minutes later, Bachmann entered the waiting room.
“Good morning gentlemen. What can I do for you?” he asked. “My secretary told me that you are investigating a murder case. I’m really wondering what makes that I’m involved in it.”
“Good morning Mr. Bachmann,” Weber said. “I have a few questions to you regarding the murder case of the 15 year old Roman Tackler. He was murdered about 10 days ago in Rabenau.”
Bachmann’s face remained neutral. “15 year old you say? How horrible to die at such a young age,” he said. “But how did you end up here? Rabenau is … how far away? Must be around 500 kilometers, if not more. How can I be involved in it?”
“That is a question we ourselves are trying to answer, Mr. Bachmann. Fact is, that we saw two men observing Roman’s burial. They stepped into a beige Borgward Hansa 2400 with licence number LAB DRA 50. Here are some pictures of the car in question.”
Colour pictures were still expensive. Therefore, the pictures Weber showed to Bachmann were in black and white. As a result, the colour of the car was not clear, but the licence plate was. Also the faces of the two men stepping into the car were clearly visible and recognisable.
“That isn’t my car,” Bachmann said. “Somebody must have falsified the licence plates.”
“How can you be so sure that it isn’t your car, Mr. Bachmann?” Eisenhauer asked. “We saw a beige Borgward Hansa 2400 on the parking lot here. Licence plate LAB DRA 50. And with a scratch exactly here.” Eisenhauer pointed his finger on one of the pictures of the car. “Exactly on the same place as here on this picture. Mr. Bachmann. Of course you are not the only owner of a beige Borgward Hansa 2400, but it is highly coincidental that there are two cars of exactly the same brand, type and colour with exactly the same scratch on it. This means that it is your car that we have on the pictures here. And that means that it was your car that we saw in Rabenau last Saturday.”
“Our conversation has ended,” Bachmann said coldly. “Fräulein Brick, could you please lead our guests to the door?”
“Mr. Bachmann, you will help yourself into trouble with this,” Weber said. “Believe me, a barrister in need of a barrister is in a bad situation.”
“Our conversation has ended, Herr Polizist,” Bachmann said with emphasis.
Schulz was already sitting in the car, when Weber and Eisenhauer arrived there.
“I have something nice to tell,” Schulz said. “Those two men from the funeral, I saw them inside Bachmann’s house, sitting at a desk.”
“Good job. Do you have a picture of them?” Weber asked.
“Of course I have,” Schulz said.
“Good. Thank you,” Weber said.
“What did Bachmann say?” Schulz asked.
“Not much. First he said that it wasn’t his car that we saw at the funeral, but when we made clear that it was his car, he threw us out. Something is going on here,” Weber said. “First let’s find out who Bachmann’s clerks are.”