The Case of the Distant Cousin

— J. Chr. de Vries

Rudi Bistpelz, a publicist from Nuremberg, sat at his worktable and leaned over one of his notes on cold cases, a hobby of his. The case that had piqued his interest for some time was what he referred to as ‘The Case of the Distant Cousin’. He had obtained the report on this case through a police inspector friend in Regensburg. The case involved the suspected murder of a resident of the Viechtach municipality, a town located in the Bavarian Forest, about thirty kilometers from the German-Czech border. The murder had never been solved, and there was no conclusive evidence of the suspected perpetrator’s guilt, at least no proof of intent. The resident, Bernd Hoewer, had died after consuming highly poisonous mushrooms. Blood tests revealed traces of Amanita phalloides, commonly known as the ‘Green Death Cap’. These mushrooms could be found in the Bavarian Forest’s woods. Every year, some people unknowingly fall victim to their deadly toxicity. Symptoms include severe gastrointestinal distress, accompanied by diarrhea and vomiting, which subside after a few days. However, by that point, it is too late for treatment. Death occurs within a week due to severe kidney and liver failure.
 The man suspected of intentionally incorporating these mushrooms into a meal for Hoewer was a distant relative of the victim. This cousin, named Rudi Cosen, had one day appeared at Hoewer’s door with a story about running away from his wife after a heated argument. He had asked if he could stay temporarily, explaining that he was in despair.

The case took place in 1990, at a time when DNA techniques were rarely used for forensic investigations. The only concrete evidence consisted of the traces of poison and the suspicious circumstances. Additionally, which made the investigators particularly alert, during the week of Hoewer’s death, he had made a will in favor of his cousin Cosen, leaving him all his possessions, including the house. So there was a motive, an opportunity, and a potential murder weapon. Nevertheless, the investigation did not progress. The suspect was extensively interrogated for weeks, but it didn’t ultimately lead to a criminal case, and the case was closed.


Inspector Steinerd Prok, who led the investigation and interrogations, was convinced of Cosen’s guilt. He viewed the outcome of his case as a serious failure that haunted him throughout the rest of his career. Bistpelz had known Prok since his college days, and they had discussed the case multiple times. However, even Bistpelz couldn’t figure out what Prok had done wrong. The investigation had been conducted with care, and Cosen had simply outsmarted them.
 The cousin had admitted that the mushrooms were accidentally included in the meal because he didn’t know they were poisonous. They were in Hoewer’s kitchen; he had picked them in the forest. It didn’t occur to him to check if they were toxic. He had also eaten some of them but not much, as he wasn’t feeling well. He went to bed early, thinking he had caught the flu, which was going around in those days.
 This is also why he wasn’t immediately alarmed by Hoewer’s gastrointestinal problems. He assumed that Hoewer was also down with the flu. Cosen had even gone to the pharmacy in Viechtach, the nearby village where they did their shopping, to buy some medicine. When Prok inquired at the pharmacy, the pharmacist confirmed this story. It was only when it was too late that Cosen had sought a doctor’s help, but there was nothing more to be done. The doctor reported the case to the police in Viechtach, which was a standard procedure for an unexpected death, and they forwarded it to the Regensburg investigators.
 While all these facts individually seemed plausible, the matter of the will had alarmed Prok enough to warrant further investigation. Initially, the case was considered closed, but a month after the death, the notary who had drawn up the will reported it to the police. For this reason, the Regensburg investigators reopened the case.
 During the subsequent interrogations, Cosen couldn’t provide a convincing explanation for why Hoewer had had that will drawn up. He claimed that Hoewer felt he wouldn’t survive the flu attack. As he was Hoewer’s only relative, he had insisted on having the will made. It wasn’t a conclusive explanation, but Prok couldn’t present any legally airtight counterarguments. Cosen stuck to his story during the interrogations and didn’t waver.
 The prosecutor had no other choice but to close the case since there was simply insufficient evidence for intentional manslaughter.

Five years later, in early 1995, Bistpelz received a phone call from Prok, notifying him of a new development in the ‘The Case of the Distant Cousin’. He was asked if he’d be interested in visiting Regensburg. They agreed to meet at Prok’s home in the late afternoon. Prok informed Bistpelz that in 1992, they received an Interpol request regarding the disappearance of Heide Raufe, a woman who had been missing since 1991. Initially, he hadn’t paid special attention to this case, as one of his colleagues had been handling it. However, after discussing it with this colleague and reviewing the reports, he noticed a name which was familiar to him: Rudi Cosen, Heide Raufe’s husband. Prok promptly requested the reopening of the Cosen case from the prosecutor. Initially, his request was denied, and he had to gather more evidence. From 1992 to the end of 1994, Prok pulled out all the stops for a new investigation, and now, at the moment he had arranged to meet Bistpelz, he had received permission to reopen the case. Hence his request for a rendezvous, to critically examine his findings with his friend’s help.
 During the 1990 interrogations, the police had contacted Heide Frau once to verify Cosen’s story. At that time, she confirmed that they had had a heated argument and that their marriage was falling apart. Since this corroborated the reason for Cosen’s visit to Hoewer, no further attention was paid to her. She played no role.

“What are the new facts?” Bistpelz asked Prok. They were sitting at his worktable with a couple of beers and two pizza boxes.


Prok took a bite of pizza, had a few sips of beer, and began, “The missing wife, Heide Raufe, was the missing link. If I had checked her in 1990, the case would have been solved back then. I made a real mistake, sloppy! It was all right there for the taking! What a blunder!” He took a few more sips of beer.


“Well, take it easy, Steinerd,” Bistpelz said, “it’s easy to talk in hindsight. But please, go on. What came to light?”


“The first fact I stumbled upon was a report of a break-in and theft filed by Heide Raufe in 1990 with the police in Kassel, the city where the couple lived. Their home was broken into, and her jewelry was stolen. The jewelry was estimated to be worth between 20,000 and 25,000 Deutsche Marks. The burglary occurred just before Cosen fled to Viechtach, and he co-signed the report. The couple lived in a duplex, and there were clear signs of a break-in, with the door forced open, and the house ransacked. Due to the evidence of the break-in, the insurance covered the losses. But here’s the twist: the insurance company, as they often do, conducted an investigation, and the insurance agent who did the assessment had suspicions. Insurance companies prefer not to pay out, so they sometimes make things difficult. The agent suggested that the break-in might have been staged by the husband, especially because he left shortly after the incident with an unknown destination. Consequently, no payout was initially made.” Prok reached for his beer.


Bistpelz had just taken a big bite of his pizza and gestured for Prok to continue.


“Heide Raufe contacted the police in Kassel again to ask what to do next. The police initiated an investigation into Cosen’s disappearance. It was discovered that he had been spotted at the local train station and had purchased a one-way ticket to Regensburg. Then, the trail went cold. A week later, she returned to the police, having found out that her husband had withdrawn a substantial amount of money from their joint savings account, totaling 100,000 DM. The insurance agent’s suspicions became more plausible by the day. The insurance company refused to pay for the losses. However, the police couldn’t do anything about her husband’s withdrawal because the savings account was also in his name. The jewelry was also considered joint property as they were married with a communal property arrangement. The only thing the police could have pursued was a false report, but it would have also implicated the wife. The case lost its priority for the police in Kassel.” Prok paused again to take a bite of his pizza.


“So far, everything seems clear: the cousin, after a big argument with his wife, takes the jewelry and a substantial amount of savings to Viechtach to start a new life or something. But then? The story of the argument may indeed be accurate, but why would he murder that uncle? By the way, was Hoewer an uncle or a cousin?” 


“From what I remember, they were cousins, not uncle and nephew; they were of the same generation. But you’re getting ahead of yourself; we’ll get to the motive later. First, there’s another issue: the wife, Heide, disappeared as well. The police in Kassel took some action regarding the missing cousin after they had managed to get bank records concerning an amount withdrawn from Cosen’s private account at an ATM in Viechtach. They had a potential location. They communicated this information over the phone to Heide Raufe. She told the police that she would go to Viechtach to look for her husband. They didn’t have a precise address where he might be, but they hoped to find out through inquiries at stores, cafés, and, of course, that bank where he withdrew money. When the police officer tried to contact her again after a week, he received no response. A week later, still nothing, and then a month later, the same. So, the police went to her address, but nobody was home. The neighbors hadn’t seen her for weeks either. The police in Kassel contacted their colleagues in Regensburg, and they would look into it further. When they didn’t make any progress either and found that the woman had mysteriously disappeared, they got in touch with Interpol, which is how Heide Raufe’s disappearance ended up in my colleague’s report.” 


“But wasn’t she spotted in Viechtach? Someone must have seen her there, right? Or did she never even make it there?”


“That was my job,” Prok nodded in agreement. “I pursued it, showing her picture to various shops, cafés, and of course, that bank. I found two people who claimed to have seen her, a waitress at a terrace in the village square in Viechtach, and the owner of a billiard café, also in the town center. So, she had been there. I also went to visit the cousin; it wasn’t easy to obtain his address. Hoewer lived an extremely secluded life, nobody knew him, he didn’t have a family doctor, dentist, or any other contacts in the village. The only person who was occasionally spotted was that cousin, for instance, at the pharmacy. However, they didn’t have his address. Eventually, I got his address from the notary, but it didn’t come easily because it was protected by professional secrecy. It was only possible after the cousin’s case had been reopened. By then, it was already 1994, all that bureaucratic hassle doesn’t help when you’re trying to solve a murder. It’s maddening!” 


“Still, the cousin must have realized that the noose was tightening around him by then,” Bistpelz said.


“Strangely enough, he didn’t seem bothered at all. He was calm and answered all the questions without flinching. I initially visited him at Hoewer’s house where he had comfortably settled. He had purchased new furniture, set up a new kitchen, and bought a new car. He showed all this with pride, without any shame.” 


Prok disposed of the leftover pizza, opened a fresh beer, and continued. “I asked him, after some casual talk about his new house, if he had spoken with his wife lately, and he denied it. I felt he was lying, but I had no evidence, so I left it at that for the time being. When I asked him if he knew his wife was missing, he seemed very surprised. ‘What?’ he exclaimed, ‘I had no idea; nobody informed me.’ I told him that I would inquire at the Regensburg police station about why nobody had informed him about this. I added that this was a shortcoming and that I would get back in touch with him. He didn’t appear concerned. Upon checking at the Regensburg station, it turned out that they didn’t have his phone number. This was an inexcusable negligence on my colleague’s part who was investigating the disappearance. Furthermore, Hoewer didn’t have a phone, as it turned out.”


“That’s quite sloppy; how is that even possible?” Bistpelz asked in astonishment. “Does this cousin have a telephone by now?” 


“No, not to my knowledge. Like Hoewer, he lives rather isolated, only going to Viechtach for groceries occasionally.”


“Heide took the train from Regensburg, right? How did she get from there to Viechtach, and how did she move around there?” 


“She took a taxi from Regensburg to Bad Kötzting. She reserved a room at the Hotel Bayerwaldhof there for a few nights and rented a car. The car was found back at the rental agency one morning with a full tank.” 


“How many kilometers were on the odometer?” Bistpelz asked. “And how far is it from her hotel to that one house?” 


“You mean Hoewer’s house?” Prok checked his notes. “I’d estimate around 10 kilometers, and there were approximately 85 kilometers on the odometer. She might have driven to Viechtach a few times and explored the area around Bad Kötzting, and certainly went to that house. It might have taken some effort to locate it, given its remote location.” 


“She must have been at that house,” Bistpelz said, “there’s no other explanation. But how do you prove it? An odometer reading doesn’t really prove anything, of course. The car would have to be spotted there, or someone would need to have seen her in the vicinity or something.” 


“I’ve tried to investigate that, of course. The issue is that the house is extremely remote, with no close neighbors. She rented a Volkswagen, one of those Beetles; they’re everywhere, so that didn’t yield anything. And it was two years after the fact when I began this investigation, so there was no chance of identifying her via fingerprints in the car, nobody remembered anything anymore, not even in the hotel. I had one card left to play: an intensive interrogation.” 


“At the police station in Regensburg, you mean?” 


“Exactly. It’s intimidating, but it was the only option to try.” 


Bistpelz pondered for a moment and then said, “There’s evidence she arrived in Bad Kötzting, but no indication that she left from there. Did she check out of that hotel and pay the bill? Was she seen in Viechtach afterward?”


“Good question! I inquired about this at the hotel, and because, as I mentioned, it was two years later, nobody could remember exactly who had checked out and paid. After some digging, there was a man who vaguely recalled that it might have been a man. But he wasn’t entirely certain. So, I had to resort to some bluffing during those interrogations.” 


“How did you find out that she was staying in that hotel in Bad Kötzting, not in Viechtach as one might expect?”


“Detective work, my dear Rudi!” Prok grinned. “Through that taxi company in Regensburg. But this was nearly two years later, by the end of 1993, almost two years after my colleague’s initial investigation.” Prok consulted his notes. “By the end of 1994, the new interrogations began in Regensburg. He hadn’t been formally arrested, so we could speak with him without a lawyer present. This meant that he could leave the station at any time if he wished, but I made it clear that such a move would leave a bad impression and formal arrest would quickly follow. He claimed to have nothing to hide and offered full cooperation; he wanted to know what happened to his wife.”


“Speaking of bluffing,” Bistpelz remarked, “he was evidently quite confident.” 


“Yes, indeed. But I could play poker too.” Prok continued to recount the initial interrogations, explaining how the man stood his ground, had answers for everything, and couldn’t be led into making a mistake. This first phase of questioning lasted for three full days.

Then it was time for phase two, a lineup in which Cosen would be placed to see if the hotel clerk would recognize him. Alongside Cosen, six other men were lined up, each holding a numbered card. They took turns stepping forward, making a quarter-turn to the left, then back, followed by a quarter-turn to the right, allowing the hotel clerk to view their faces from different angles. The hotel clerk pointed to Cosen as the possible person but wasn’t completely certain. Yet for Prok, this was enough for his bluffing game. Cosen had not been formally charged, so Prok could interrogate him without the presence of a lawyer. Just to be safe, Prok pointed this out to the man, but Cosen was still confident in his chances of walking out of the police station a free man.


“I told Cosen plainly that a hotel clerk had recognized him when he came to retrieve his wife’s luggage from the hotel. I wisely kept to myself the fact that the clerk wasn’t completely sure,” Prok said with a wry grin.


“Was that allowed?” Bistpelz looked at him with doubt. “If there had been a lawyer present, he could have likely secured the release of the cousin on grounds of improper interrogation; a judge wouldn’t have accepted this, I assume.”


“It’s a gray area,” Prok replied, “but I had informed him of the option to get a lawyer, which he had dismissed, convinced of his invincibility. Vanity of vanities… Nevertheless, it worked!”


Prok paused for a moment before continuing, allowing for a dramatic pause in his narrative; the triumph needed to be savored. “It worked, I said because, at last, he made his first mistake. He asked the following…” Prok consulted his notes and read aloud: “I was in Viechtach that day, not Bad Kötzting, you can verify that at the bank where I withdrew money. That’s when I got him, because I hadn’t told him that the hotel was in Bad Kötzting, how could he have known that? He tried to escape by saying that I told him that, but that didn’t hold up. Then, all of a sudden, he wanted a lawyer. That wasn’t an issue, of course, because we immediately placed him under arrest, accusing him of his wife’s murder. This would likely allow us to finally prove the murder of Hoewer as well.”


“Unbelievable,” Bistpelz looked at Prok in astonishment. “But won’t that bluff backfire on you? The hotel clerk wasn’t completely sure of his identification. An attorney will make mincemeat of that, I imagine, and a judge won’t accept it.”


“But that’s not necessary,” Prok responded. “I now have a search warrant, and I’ll thoroughly search the entire house and the grounds surrounding it. If we find the remains of Heide Raufe, it will be conclusive. I’m confident we’ll find her there. I doubt he buried her body somewhere else; on his property, the likelihood of it being discovered was much lower because he could keep an eye on it. As I mentioned, it’s very secluded.”

Two months later, Bistpelz received an early evening call from Prok. The case had been concluded, and they had found the remains of Heide Frauke in Cosen’s backyard. An autopsy had revealed that she, too, had been poisoned with the Green Deathcap mushroom. This meant that Cosen was charged with two murders. Finally, Prok had managed to solve ‘The Case of the Distant Cousin’. Bistpelz congratulated his friend on the successful outcome and hung up. He sat down at his worktable with a glass of cognac within reach. There was something that still gnawed at his brain, but he couldn’t quite pinpoint it. There was a loose end, but he had no idea where it led.


The next day, he called Prok, saying that he had some more questions and asked if they could meet again, with Bistpelz planning to go to Regensburg. When Prok asked if they couldn’t discuss it over the phone, Bistpelz responded that he wanted to talk to him in person. They agreed to meet at Prok’s home two days later. Beer and pizza.

“What do you want to know,” Prok asked, “the case is closed, I’ve already told you the main points, what’s bothering you?” 


“At the very least, the motive for the murders, but there’s something else, and I can’t quite put my finger on it. That’s why I wanted to meet with you, in the hopes that through a conversation, we can figure out what’s bothering me.” 


“The motive is clear: money and a failed marriage. Cosen saw an opportunity to start a new life without his wife.”


“I understand that motive, but what I don’t understand is why he killed Hoewer. Especially why he killed him first and his wife afterward. You have to admit that’s rather peculiar, to say the least.” 


“Yes, I found it peculiar as well, but perhaps Hoewer was just an obstacle that needed to be removed. His wife came to confront him about taking her jewels and withdrawing their savings.”

Bistpelz looked thoughtful and asked, “I assume a thorough search for fingerprints was conducted in the house. Those of Hoewer and the cousin were undoubtedly found everywhere, but were there also fingerprints of Heide Raufe?” 


“Indeed, there were fingerprints of both men all over the house, but not of Heide. Cosen had carefully removed them. Why are you asking this?” 


Bistpelz ignored the question. “There are two bedrooms in the house, right? I assume Cosen slept in the guest room?” 


“That’s not certain. After Hoewer’s death, he used Hoewer’s bedroom. Their fingerprints were found in all the rooms, including the kitchen. Hoewer was in his own bed when the doctor examined him.”


Bistpelz nodded thoughtfully but didn’t say more. 


“Why are you so interested in these fingerprints?” Prok asked for the second time. 


“I don’t know, just a vague idea,” Bistpelz replied. “Where is Hoewer buried?” 


“He was cremated, as specified in the will.”


Bistpelz stood up from his chair, grabbed a slice of pizza, and began eating as he walked over to the window, shaking his head.


“Come on, Rudi, spill it. You’re not asking these questions for no reason. What’s bothering you?” Prok urged.


“I don’t know,” Bistpelz said hesitantly. “It’s probably nonsense. I have no evidence for my idea, if it even deserves that label. I need more information first. So, another question, and if I get an answer that aligns with my vague intuition, I’ll explain further. ‘Intuition’ is probably a better term than ‘idea’.”


“Alright, go ahead with your question,” Prok said.


“Have the cousin’s belongings been checked for fingerprints? His suitcases and their contents,” Bistpelz inquired.


Prok looked thoughtful and began searching through his notes. “I don’t see any information about that here,” he said after some time.


“Can you look into that,” Bistpelz asked. 


“Yes, probably I can, it will take me a day, or maybe a bit longer.”


“Okay, if you’re willing to do it for me, I’ll book a hotel here, and we’ll meet up again once you have that information. Until then, you’ll have to be patient. Sorry, but I’m not entirely sure of my case.”


And so it was decided. Bistpelz booked a hotel, and they agreed to meet again once Prok had obtained the information.
 Bistpelz spent two days exploring Regensburg, needing time to think. On the third day, Prok informed him that he had received a response from the lab. They arranged to meet at Prok’s house again, but this time they wouldn’t have pizza and beer; Prok would cook for both of them. He was making Sauerkraut mit Bratwurst, his specialty. Bistpelz brought along two bottles of dry Riesling.

Both men first enjoyed their meal. After the table was cleared, Prok opened the second bottle of Riesling and retrieved his notes.
 “When I saw the lab results, I suddenly understood your intuition. You were right on the money. The fingerprints of both men were found on the suitcases and their contents. But on one item, Cosen’s bank credit card was hidden in the lining of one of the suitcases, Only Hoewer’s fingerprints were found on it. How was this possible? Cosen had the regular bank card with him, but he apparently didn’t want to use the credit card as well. There was only one possible explanation for this fingerprint mystery, and your intuition was spot on. I had a photo of Hoewer sent to the police in Kassel to inquire with the neighbors if they recognized him. They had never seen the man.” Prok raised his glass to toast Bistpelz.


Bistpelz returned the gesture, they clinked glasses, and then they drank their wine in silence for a while. After some time, Bistpelz said, “Well, what a case, Steinerd! What a tangled web! But my issue with the motive is now resolved as well.”

Bernd Hoewer was accused of murdering Rudi Cosen and his wife, Heide Raufe. When his cousin came to visit him and he heard about the stolen jewelry and the large sum Cosen had swindled, he saw an opportunity. Heide, who thought she could confront her husband, immediately saw through Hoewer’s deceit, and that was fatal to her.

— J. Chr. de Vries, Viechtach, July 17, 2017