The Defeated Aristocrat Read Free

was sorry. Remorse didn’t excuse or mitigate what he’d done. Nothing could. But he’d been one of many. He deserved pity … mercy …
    Didn’t he?
    ‘You’re the first. You won’t be the last.’
    The knife flashed, no longer glittering but dulled by blood. His blood.
    He couldn’t bear the torment. He longed for freedom from pain. For silence. For the sucking and spurting of raw flesh, blood, and tissue to cease. When it did, he tumbled into red-tinged darkness.
    Pathetically grateful for release, he embraced the void.

CHAPTER TWO
    Munz Platz, Konigsberg, Early hours of Saturday January 4th 1919
    The winds of winter iced the Schloss Teich – the Castle Lake. It shone a sheet of shimmering opal in the moonlight. Lilli Richter had left the drapes open in her turret study so she could view the vista of frosted water and snow-encrusted trees and houses that encircled it while she worked.
    She recalled her father saying, ‘We’re lucky, having this view, Lilli. It’s better than any old master and has the added advantage of changing with the seasons. Think of the millions of marks we’ve saved by not having to buy Rembrandts and Brueghels.’
    The smile died on her lips when she heard a sound she’d come to dread echoing up the outer marble staircase. A drunk, stumbling, crashing into walls and swearing. She checked the clock. She’d been so engrossed in the editorial she’d been writing she’d lost track of time. Something she’d promised herself she wouldn’t do again after the last time her husband had cornered her.
    She waited until the house was quiet. Then waited another ten minutes. Packing her papers into her briefcase, she crept to the door.
    Dedleff was swaying on the landing. The door to their apartment was open behind him. She assumed he’d gone looking for her in there and when he hadn’t found her, realised she was in the turret room.
    ‘Hiding from me!’
    ‘I wouldn’t have opened the door if I was hiding from you.’ She regretted speaking as soon as the words were out of her mouth. The mildest response when Dedleff was in this state provoked him.
    ‘Ask me where I’ve been?’
    ‘You’re tired. I’ll help you to bed.’ She spoke softly trying not to anger him more than he already was. She’d loved Dedleff. Been proud of him when he’d volunteered to fight for Germany. She’d missed him every day he’d been away, but had learned to fear the violent monster who’d returned in his place.
    ‘Bitch!’ He tore off his coat and cap and tossed them to the floor.
    She shook her head surreptitiously at her housekeeper, Bertha, who was creeping up the stairs behind Dedleff.
    He unfastened his belt and wound the flat end around his palm, swinging the buckle wide.
    Lilli signalled frantically to Bertha with her eyes to leave before Dedleff caught sight of her. But the housekeeper stood her ground. Dedleff detected movement, whirled around, thrust Bertha aside and moved in on Lilli. She backed into the turret. He followed, slamming the door behind him. He turned the key in the lock before lashing out. The buckle caught Lilly across her breasts and arm. Not wanting to wake their six-year-old daughter and invalid father on the ground floor, she stifled her cries.
    Bertha hammered the door.
    ‘Send her away.’ Dedleff’s pale blue eyes glittered cold, terrifying, into Lilli’s.
    ‘Go, Bertha. Please.’ Lilli’s voice was hoarse, barely audible.
    Dedleff lashed out, again … and again … and again …
    Lilli slumped, beaten and whimpering, to the floor.
    ‘I’m getting help,’ Bertha shouted.
    Dedleff pulled his police issue gun from his holster and fired in the direction of Bertha’s voice. The bullet struck the door jamb and ricocheted back into the room. He staggered, tripped on the rug, and slid to the floor.
    Lilli stared at him. When he continued to remain still, immobile after a full minute, she crawled to the door, reached up and turned the key. The effort