The Killing of Emma Gross Read Free

loose.
    'When she passed out I took my pocket knife and cut her throat. Started on the left and drew it to the right. Like this. And then...the blood.'
    His forefinger traced an arc of arterial blood spray as he closed his eyes again. Sweat beaded his top lip. His panting slowed. He straightened and when he grinned there was blood on his teeth, though whether he'd bitten his lip or his tongue, or whether my mind had conjured some fancy under the influence of his tale and too little sleep, I couldn't say.
    'No more than three minutes, the whole business.' He took a handkerchief to his fingers as though trying to clean them. He smoothed back his hair and cleared his throat. 'Then I left the room and made off.'
    I cleared my throat too, not trusting myself to speak clearly without doing so. 'And what about Gertrude Albermann?' I said.
    He replaced his handkerchief in the breast pocket of his pinstriped jacket. 'You'll see.'
    It seemed like he wanted to confess. Maybe if I took him through the motions he'd tell me about the Albermann girl. 'When did all this happen?' I drew a notebook and pen from my pocket.
    'Summer. 1913. I was doing a lot of theft at that time. It was a Sunday evening, a feast day, about ten or eleven pm when I broke in. It was an inn on the Wolfstrasse, but then you know that. Nothing worth taking. No possessions, that is.'
    'And the girl's name?'
    'Christine, you fool, like I told you.'
    'Christine who?'
    He punched my arm. 'Stop playing with me, detective. Christine Klein, as you well know.'
    'Is Gertrude still alive?'
    'Who?'
    'The Albermann child. If you are the Ripper then you're the one who took her, aren't you. Aren't you?'
    'Oh I'm the Ripper all right, Thomas, I can assure you of that.'
    I stepped in close and made fists of my hands. 'Then tell me where she is.'
    Someone sneezed. I spun round. A plump man in a white gown dithered at the threshold, his small eyes rolling a lot of white my way. Had he overheard Kürten's confession? The choir had stopped singing and the organ had stopped bellowing. Whispers echoed in the nave in place of the music. And cutting through them, something like shouting outside the church. The cough and splutter of road traffic had ebbed away.
    'Yes?' I had to stop myself shouting at the man.
    'Is one of you gentlemen Detective Thomas Klein?' he asked through thick lips that turned down at each end of his mouth. He chewed on his tongue.
    'That's me,' I said.
    'There are some more policemen outside in the square,' the man said. 'A lot of them. And they're asking for you.'
    'Ritter,' I said. It came out on the crest of a sigh. Gott in Himmel , not now. If anyone in this city had supernatural powers, it was him. Kürten inclined his head as though he understood the importance of the name.
    'A friend of yours?' he said.
    My turn to smile. I had to, otherwise I would have cried out in frustration. I seized Kürten's arm and said, 'Tell me where Gertrude Albermann is, now.'
    'So fearsome, Thomas.' He was grinning. 'I'm glad you're the one to bring me in. And I hope you realise the awesome significance of this moment. You, Thomas Klein, finally bringing the Düsseldorf Ripper to heel. They'll write songs about you. Make moving pictures. Write novels. The Sancho Panza to my Don Quixote of death!'
    'The Van Helsing to your Count Dracula more like,' I told him. 'Come on.'
    I didn’t like that this arrest was going to be Ritter’s, but the sooner we got Kürten to headquarters the sooner we could get Albermann's whereabouts out of him.
    We entered the nave, where over a dozen white-robed choristers had gathered between us and the exit. Several of them were just boys who were talking in the loud voices boys use when they know something dangerous might be about to happen.
    'Are you the choir master?' I asked the chubby man who'd come to find me.
    His chin merged with the trunk of his neck as he nodded. I pulled Kürten through the crowd to the door, forced him down on his haunches in