The Hindenburg Murders - By Max Allan Collins Page 0,57
Lehmann said, eyelids at half-mast, prop pipe in his teeth.
“I don’t understand you, Ernst. You have a murderer aboard. What are you going to do about it?”
Lehmann gestured with the pipe. “You haven’t answered my question, yet: what evidence, even circumstantial evidence, have you against Spehl?”
That stopped him. Charteris drew in a breath, held it, released it. “Nothing, really. Just what you already know.”
“That he sought you out for an autograph.”
Charteris’s forehead tensed. “I have the unsettling feeling you’re about to tell me that you intend doing nothing.”
“We will be landing this afternoon,” Lehmann said.
“Approximately four o’clock,” Pruss put in.
“It is my feeling,” the Reederei director continued, “that our best course of action is to land, allow our passengers to debark, bring new passengers aboard, and head home. Once home, a few days from now, the matter will be turned over to the S.D., and if Eric Spehl or any other crew member is guilty of murder, the S.D. will find it out, and prosecute and punish. We will not deal with this matter in the air, or on American soil.”
“Good Lord, man, he’s killed twice!”
Lehmann shrugged grandly. “Who has killed twice? We have gone over that. We don’t know what in fact happened to our missing passenger and our missing crew member. We will turn it over to the proper German authorities for investigation—in Germany.”
“Ernst, this is madness—”
Erdmann, who’d been strangely silent, said, “Mr. Charteris, while I am more in your camp in this matter than Captain Lehmann’s, I would have to agree with him that it is unlikely Spehl—or whoever our assailant might be—would kill again.”
“Fritz! What is your reasoning?”
“Let’s assume you’re right about Spehl—or substitute any other crew member, for that matter, including Scheef himself. Obviously, Eric Knoecher had something on whoever murdered him. So Knoecher was disposed of. Then Spehl… or whoever… became aware of the story you were spreading that Knoecher was still alive and unwell in your mutual cabin. This told him you were up to something, that you knew something. And of course you were asking questions, around the ship—discreetly investigating… but investigating.”
“Yes.”
“So you were ‘warned.’ By an accomplice, apparently. And now that accomplice has been removed. This is all according to your own version of the events, Mr. Charteris.”
“That’s right.”
“Well, if no further investigation takes place, and you debark this afternoon—why would Spehl… or whoever… kill again?”
“And if Scheef alone was the murderer,” Lehmann said, “he’s either dead, by his own hand or God’s, or has escaped.”
“In either event,” Erdmann said, “the safety of the passengers and the rest of the crew would seem assured.”
Charteris threw up his hands. “By Nazi standards, maybe. But by any other, this is insanity.” He looked to Lehmann. “How far will you go to protect yourself from damaging publicity in America, Ernst?”
“This far.”
“I am still capable of blowing the whistle to the police and the press, you know.”
“We do know.” Lehmann’s voice was at its gentlest, its most fatherly. “I would ask you, Leslie, as a friend, to allow us to handle this ourselves. In a few hours, this voyage will be over. You’ll be off the ship. What is it to you what a bunch of Nazis do to each other?”
Charteris laughed humorlessly. “That’s the best argument you’ve come up with, I’ll give you that. But you’ll have to do better.”
“What would you suggest?”
“Put Eric Spehl into custody.”
Erdmann frowned. “On what charge?”
“Jesus Christ, man! You’re a Nazi! Who cares what charge?” Then he again turned to Lehmann. “Ernst, if we are friends, at all, to the slightest degree, for God’s sake listen to me: that boy is guilty. I saw it in his eyes.”
“His eyes,” Lehmann said quietly.
“Put that boy in custody and keep him there at least until you lift back off from Lakehurst. And I would suggest keeping him in custody until you turn this business over to your authorities in the fatherland.”
Lehmann’s eyes narrowed. “And that will buy your cooperation?”
“Yes.”
The Reederei director looked to Erdmann. “Colonel?”
Erdmann was already nodding. “I agree with Mr. Charteris. And I will take Rigger Spehl into custody myself, and keep him in my cabin.”
Lehmann glanced to Captain Pruss. “Is that acceptable, Captain?”
“Yes. We can cover for Rigger Spehl’s duties. Perhaps this is the prudent thing, at that.”
“My only other concern,” Charteris said, “is Spehl’s access until this very moment to every nook and cranny of this ship. If he is, in addition to a murderer, a saboteur…”
Captain Pruss held up a hand, palm out. “The ship has