Cold Victory

With a whirlwind of officiousness, the prosecutor arrived. He wore a gown and a cap with an upturned brim, the standard attire of German prosecutors. He was accompanied by three male assistants, presumably junior prosecutors or legal interns. Alix went to introduce herself, and when he turned to face her, her heart missed a beat. It was the very man she had worked for twelve years earlier.

The memories flooded back. Apprenticing with a state prosecutor was one of the mandatory internships required of aspiring lawyers in Germany. By the time she arrived for her six-month stint, it was a year since she’d passed her first exam. She’d already spent six months clerking in a civil court and another six months interning with a commercial law firm. The latter had been active in helping Jews avoid the various laws inhibiting the transfer of property overseas. That work had been uplifting, and she had been inspired by the notion that when she finished her legal training, she would be in a position to help people oppose injustice.

Everything changed after her encounter with the man opposite her. Not only had he been contemptuous of her as a woman, constantly implying that women didn’t have the brains necessary for the job, but she also soon discovered that, in collusion with the judges, he determined the verdicts and the sentence of the defendents before the trial. The judges took orders from him because he was a high-ranking member of the Nazi Party with good connections to key Nazi leaders.

“Ach!” the prosecutor exclaimed as their eyes met. “If it isn’t little Fraulein von Mollwitz! What a surprise! I thought you’d recognised the futility of pursuing a legal career.”

“Only for as long as you and your kind controlled the criminal justice system. I have spent the last three years in Nuremberg — with the prosecution.”

He flinched but then smiled derisively and sneered, “So you’re one of those — a fawning sponger, hanging onto the coattails of our occupiers and besmirching our nest. How charming, Fraulein von Mollwitz.”

“Bringing murderers to justice,” she countered, adding, “And it’s not Fraulein von Mollwitz, but Freifrau von Feldburg.”

“Feldburg? Surely not any relation to the infamous traitor?”

“His widow, Herr Staatsanwalt Steinbrueck. His proud widow.” Alexandra held her head high and met his eye.

“Traitor!“ Steinbrueck hissed at her, his eyes narrowing.

“In the name and for the sake of humanity.”

“Hanging was too good for your husband. He should have been gassed like the other vermin.”

Alix was furious, but she knew better than to erupt. She gave Steinbrueck a twisted smile and remarked, “I’ll remember you said that.” Then she turned away and took her seat next to Charlotte.

Charlotte leaned close to ask in a whisper, “Is something wrong?”

Alix tried to rein in her feelings. “The prosecutor is Herr Dr Steinbrueck, a man with whom I interned before the war. He was — and apparently still is — an ardent National Socialist. I will try to get him removed from your case and debarred, but I’m not sure of the exact procedures or how long that might take. Today, it doesn’t matter. All you need to do is enter your plea.”

There was no time for further discussion. The police called for everyone to rise as the three judges entered. They moved to stand before the central seats behind the podium and gestured for everyone to sit. The presiding judge lifted a gavel, knocked it on the table once and announced the court was in session. He then turned to look at Charlotte, “The defendant will rise.”

Charlotte got unsteadily to her feet, while Alix looked futilely for Christian and David. Charlotte was breathing so heavily that Alix could hear her.

“Are you Charlotte Graefin Walmsdorf, born May 16, 1916, in Walmsdorf, Mecklenburg to Constantine Alexander Heinrich Graf Walmsdorf and his wife Freya Michaela nee von Linstow?”

“Yes,” Charlotte whispered and nodded.

“Do you have legal counsel?”

Charlotte nodded, indicated Alix, and managed to say, “Alexandra Freifrau von Feldburg.”

“Have you received and read the indictment?”

Charlotte nodded again.

Scowling at her, the judge asked, “You understand that you are charged with murder in the first degree of Friedrich Adelbert von Bredow on the night of 10 January 1949?”

Charlotte took a shallow breath and breathed out, “I understand.”

“How do you plead?”

“Not guilty,” Charlotte whispered.

“Speak up! I did not hear your response!” The judge barked.

“My client pleads ‘not guilty,’ your honour,” Alix spoke up clearly and distinctly.

“On what grounds?”

The judge’s tone did not sound as neutral as Alix thought it ought to. She decided she’d look into his biography as well. On her legal pad, she noted his name, Nuss. Meanwhile, she answered his question, “by reason of self-defence.”

“Plea: not guilty. Justification: self-defence. The defendant will remain in police custody without bail until the trial. Court adjourned.” The judge hit the gavel on the wooden holder and stood, bringing everyone else to their feet again.

“Is that all?” Charlotte whispered.

“For the moment,” Alix told her. They slid out of their seats and started for the door.

Behind them, the prosecutor remarked to his assistants. “What a pair those girls make: the widow of a man who wanted to kill our beloved Fuehrer and the murderer of one of our brave disabled heroes.”

Alix gripped Charlotte more firmly by the elbow and kept moving without looking back, their police escort trailing them. This was going to be much more emotionally draining than she’d thought.

They navigated the warren of corridors back to the entry hall and exited into the bleak, wintry day. Half a dozen police vans stood parked at the curb, but their police escort recognised which one was theirs and pointed them towards it. Alix nudged Charlotte forward and was surprised by Charlotte’s apparent reluctance to move. She kept looking over her shoulder.

Just when they reached the van, the tall, wooden door of the courthouse flew open with a bang, and David burst out. His coat flapped around him as he ran towards them calling, “Charlotte!”

Charlotte tried to step in his direction, reaching out her arms. The policewoman responded as though she were making an escape attempt. She roughly spun Charlotte about and shoved her into the back of the van over Alix’s protest. Charlotte did not struggle. She just kept her eyes fixed on David for as long as she could, calling his name the whole time.

The police driver flung himself out of the driver’s seat and with outstretched arms he stopped David from stepping off the curb.

A second later, Christian caught up with David and breathlessly explained, “They wouldn’t let us in. They said no visitors were allowed.”

David tried to use the distraction, to slip past the policeman and reach the back of the van, but the policeman was faster. With a lunge, he physically dragged David back onto the curb as Charlotte called out “David!” The policewoman jumped out of the vehicle and took up a stance with her arms crossed over her chest glowering at David.

“Let me just say three words to her!” David begged.

With her mouth clamped firmly shut, the policewoman shook her head. The policeman barked, “No one but counsel, court officials and law enforcement officers are allowed to speak with the defendant.”

“That’s absurd!” David protested.

“She is a dangerous felon!” the policewoman retorted.

“Probably less of a one than you are!” David countered, evidently sharing Alix’s suspicions about the woman’s past.

The situation might have escalated further if the familiar voice of Dr Steinbrueck had not carried across the icy air. To Alix’s dismay, the prosecutor and his assistants had just left the building on their way to lunch.

“Ah, what have we here?” Dr Steinbrueck asked coming up to inspect the scene. He looked with apparent amusement from David to the police, and asked Alix contemptuously, “Would this sorry specimen be the motive or the accomplice of the murderess?”

David swung toward Steinbrueck, and God knew what he might have said if Christian had not grabbed him and hissed, “Don’t respond! It could damage Charlotte’s case.”

Alix intervened with, “Allow me to introduce Herr Dr Steinbrueck, a founding member of the Bund Nationalsozialistischer Deutscher Juristen” (the League of National Socialist German Legal Professionals) “and an early member of the NSDAP.”

“At least I am a proud German, not a traitor!” Steinbrueck retorted.

“Anyone proud of causing a world war is a moron,” Christian retorted to the prosecutor before saying to Alix, “We’ll talk later.” He pulled David away while Alix turned and climbed into the back of the van to accompany Charlotte back to jail.

“He came,” Charlotte whispered, her face alight. “David came. He’ll save me.”

Alix nodded and stroked Charlotte’s arm. She needed faith and hope. The reality, however, was that because Steinbrueck had witnessed the emotional reunion between Charlotte and David, he could now build a plausible case of premeditated murder. Steinbrueck would attempt to show that Charlotte had killed Bredow so she would be free to marry David. He had two police witnesses who could testify to the intensity of the feelings David and Charlotte had just shown for one another. It was not a good development.