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twenty minutes to change into a suitable gown.
    She took in the two detectives at a glance and offered her hand to Trautmann, making him go to her.
    â€˜My butler tells me you have news,’ she said, gesturing for them to sit. ‘Detective...?’
    â€˜Kriminalkommissar Trautmann, ma’am. And this is my assistant, Roth.’
    She went straight for one of the sofas and reached for the glass on the table, cradling it as she looked up at the men.
    Roth took the sofa opposite while Trautmann sat next to the baroness at a respectful distance.
    â€˜Have you found him?’ she said.
    â€˜We think so, ma’am,’ Trautmann said.
    â€˜You think so?’ Her voice wavered, the weak link in her controlled façade. ‘Is he dead?’
    Trautmann took a breath. ‘We’ve found a dead body, but the only clue to his identity came from this.’
    He laid out the letter to show her.
    â€˜Did you write this, ma’am?’
    She didn’t say anything for a long time, looking first at the letter and then past Trautmann at something in her mind’s eye.
    Trautmann waited for a nod. When it didn’t come, he said, ‘Your son’s name was Rudi?’
    She shuddered. ‘Rudolph. You found this on him?’
    â€˜In his apartment. Can you tell us Rudolph’s age?’
    â€˜Will you need me to come and identify him?’ Her large brown eyes bore into his skull.
    â€˜Not necessarily, ma’am.’
    â€˜â€œNot necessarily?” ’ She got up from the sofa. The two detectives rose with her. ‘So you can’t tell me if he’s dead – or even if you want me to confirm whether he’s the man you have in your... meat chiller, is that right?’
    Roth cut in. ‘Madam, why was your son living under an assumed name?’
    Trautmann shot Roth a look. But the question had an effect. The woman considered it.
    â€˜You’ve read the letter,’ she said.
    â€˜Yes, but it’s not entirely clear. Perhaps you can confirm our thoughts?’
    The baroness stepped close to Roth and held his gaze. ‘And what thoughts are those, exactly?’
    Roth didn’t blink. ‘That he and your husband had a serious falling out. Possibly over politics.’
    She took a sip of her drink. ‘A falling out? Oh yes. My husband disapproved very much of my son’s membership of the party.’
    â€˜So you knew about that?’ Trautmann said, moving into her line of sight.
    â€˜Of course. It was the whole reason he left.’
    â€˜Did you know he was living under a different name?’ Roth said.
    â€˜No, but it makes sense. It could have been embarrassing to my husband otherwise.’
    â€˜So he was upset enough to leave, but not enough to embarrass his father?’
    â€˜Oh, my husband isn’t,’ she caught herself, ‘ wasn’t Rudi’s real father. I remarried. They never saw eye to eye. This party thing was just the last straw. In fact, I’d hoped it was just an empty act of defiance. That he’d come to his senses and come home.’
    â€˜But why was it such a problem?’ Roth pushed on. ‘After all, there must be plenty of sons from this part of the city who’ve joined for a lark. It’s not exactly unpopular in your social circle, is it?’
    Trautmann willed Roth to step back – but the baroness laughed. ‘Don’t you men read the papers? If you want my opinion, Rudi changed his name to avoid being associated with my husband.’
    â€˜How did you get his address? To write the letter?’ Trautmann asked.
    â€˜He wrote to me first.’ She took another sip and then set the glass down on the table. ‘The first time I’d heard from him in almost a year and he writes to ask for money. How’s that for a son’s love?’
    She sank back into the sofa. ‘How did he die?’
    This was heading into unhelpful territory.
    â€˜He was