*This is based on a true story.*
The monumental question that seems to
have no answer is: Are monsters born or
are they created? Are serial killers
helpless against their destiny or are they making the conscious choice to kill? Is it predetermined in their DNA or do their
circumstances create the perfect storm for their destruction? In the early 20th century, the
term “serial killer” had not been coined as of yet. The term “Serienmörder”,
or serial-murderer, was used in 1930 to describe Peter Kürten,
a German murderer. Peter Kürten
was found to have killed at least nine victims.
Fritz Heinrich killed at least two dozen, possibly as many as seventy or
more. This is his story.
Friedrich “Fritz” Heinrich was born on
October 25, 1879, in Hannover, Germany.
He was the sixth child born into poverty to a sickly mother and a violent
father. Having no money, he was forced
to play with his sisters’ dolls, and he often played “dress up” in their
clothes. Fearing any harm may come to
him, his overprotective mother, Joanna, encouraged Fritz to participate in less
boy-like activities which may cause him to become scraped or scarred. Having no positive male role models, Fritz
developed a more effeminate demeanor which made him a target for schoolyard bullies. This femininity caused strife between him and
his father, who threw words like “sissy” and “pansy” at him like sharp, cutting
daggers.
Fritz struggled in school, both
scholastically and socially, which only fueled the angst that his father,
Ollie, felt toward him. When Ollie’s
frustration and anger toward Fritz came to a head, his father sent him away to
a military boarding school. His stay was
short-lived due to a series of seizures.
Over the years, Fritz held a job at a
cigar factory until he was arrested for molesting a child. He was confined to a mental institution after
being deemed as psychologically unfit to stand trial. Upon his release, he was issued to be
enlisted in the military. Becoming a
soldier was something that greatly appealed to Fritz. He needed the structure and discipline that
was lacking in his youth. Every minute
of his day was accounted for. This was
beneficial to Fritz, because it kept his longing feelings at bay. His compulsion was ever consuming. His thoughts became obsessive, not only to
touch a child, but to draw blood. The
thoughts alone were tantalizing and thrilling.
Military life gave him much less opportunity for these things to occupy
his time and his thoughts, as well as actions.
For the next few years, he grew into a
successful soldier with great potential, until tragedy struck. In October of 1901, his glowing career
abruptly ended during an exercise. He
began suffering from severe dizzy spells and epileptic fits that ultimately
required hospitalization for weeks at a time.
The military doctors found him unsuitable for service, and he was
discharged. This loss devastated him and
plunged him into a deep depression. The
absence of this structure increased his sense of inferiority that he had
brushed to the side after enrolling in the military. That dark, boding lack of self-esteem had
been overshadowed by the confidence that he gained with his military experience. But that had now diminished. The discharge only intensified his
self-loathing and fueled his inner-hate.
After being sent home to his parents,
his life became more dysfunctional. The
tension with his father was ever-present, and his mother was gravely ill. He drew a meager pension from the
military. After several attempts to open
his own business failed, he turned to petty burglaries for money, which kept
him in and out of jail for the next few years.
He became very adept in lock-picking as he had been an apprentice
locksmith prior to his entering the military.
This came in quite handy in his career as a conman and thief. The attention that he garnered from these
frequent arrests was unwanted, so he decided to stay under the radar. With the start of World War I, the country
became distracted, and the focus on Fritz had decreased.
With a great many men off to the war
effort, Fritz managed to find work in the local butcher shop. Domestic help was scarce due to the shortage
of able-bodied men, as most were off to war.
This gave Fritz an opportunity that he may not have been presented
otherwise. He quickly learned this new
trade and took great pride in his work.
Old man Karl had owned the butcher shop for thirty years and was contemplating
his retirement. He felt that grooming
Fritz to take over the establishment was the next logical step seeing as he had
no heirs of his own. They had come to an
agreement that Fritz would lease the business from Karl after his
apprenticeship was complete. This was
the first time that Fritz felt that his life had purpose and direction since
the military. He applied the same focus
and drive in his work that he had once put in his more nefarious actions of the
past.
Fritz was living in a one-room apartment
just blocks from the train station. It
was small and not much more than a closet with a cot-sized bed one the corner. The hallway of each floor of the building had
one shared bathroom for each of the adjoining rooms. A small table sat in the makeshift kitchen
area with two chairs situated on either side of the table.
The train station was positioned almost
directly between his apartment and the butcher shop. One September day as Fritz was walking from
the butcher shop to home, he noticed a strikingly handsome young man standing
outside the train depot. His name was
Freddie, and he was a seventeen-year-old runaway from the neighboring
town. Fritz was quite drawn to the
smooth yet firm flesh of younger adolescent men. He couldn’t help be focused on the top button
of Freddie’s shirt. From that point, he
could nearly wonder if the young lad had a hairless chest, which he
preferred. No hairs seemed to peek out
from the collar. Freddie couldn’t help
but notice his stare.
“Hey.
How are you?” Freddie broke
Fritz’s stare with a conversational salutation.
“Good.
You look lost,” Fritz retorted.
“Yeah, my next train doesn’t leave for
another three hours, so I have to kill some time here,” replied Freddie. “Anywhere to get a pint around here?”
“Are you even old enough to drink?”
inquired Fritz.
Freddie sheepishly looked down at his
feet and squeaked out a slight “beer”. That
alerted Fritz that he was between sixteen and eighteen, just the age range that
enticed him the most. This age was
developed physically while still being pure and naïve. The slightest touch erupted younger men in
trembles of anticipation and also fear.
This piqued Fritz’s interest greatly.
Fritz coaxed Freddie back to his
apartment only a few blocks away with the promise of harder liquor than the
young fellow would not be able to obtain in the local public house. This intrigued the young man, and he was
quickly in tow back to Fritz’s modest flat.
There they engaged in some light
chit-chat while sipping some rotgut whiskey.
As they laughed and drank, Fritz began scooting his chair closer and
closer to Freddie’s. After about an
hour, Freddie became quite a bit tipsy and asked for the toilet. Fritz directed him to it and told him to
hurry back. During Freddie’s absence,
Fritz began to take off his shirt and undo his belt. Freddie re-entered with a start at Fritz’s
most casual appearance and demeanor.
Tension grew, both unease and sexual.
“Let me pour you another drink,” Fritz
said.
Freddie nervously fumbled for words,
responding, “No, I’ve got to be going. I
don’t want to miss my train.”
Before he knew it, Fritz pounced on him
like a wild animal on its helpless prey.
Fritz eagerly went in for a kiss, and Freddie reluctantly engaged before
pulling away. This angered Fritz, and he
flew into a frenzy. His rage consumed
him so much that he blacked out during the episode. When he awoke, he found an unconscious
Freddie laying feet from him, with a bright red line of blood creeping down the
side of his face from the corner of his mouth flowing to and joining another
line of blood coming from his nose. What
appeared to be teeth marks surrounded the Adam’s apple area of Freddie’s
throat.
Instead of panic, Fritz was filled with
a sense of wonder as he examined the blood as a child watching a butterfly
flutter from flower to flower. He
sweetly and gently stroked the side of Freddie’s still warm face as if he could
somehow muster care and concern. He
could taste the iron of the blood in his mouth.
He enjoyed the taste and yearned for more.
No one gave a second thought to blood
stains on Fritz’s shirt. After all,
those were common for someone of his trade.
The neighbors paid no attention to the smell of meat being boiled in his
apartment. Of course, a butcher would
bring home various cuts of meat from his job.
He thought his situation was flawless.
Disposal of the carnage seemed nearly effortless.
Freddie’s parents grew concerned with
days turned to weeks without hearing word from their son. Determined, they retraced his steps to the
town of Hannover to the very train station that he stepped off. They talked to as many people as they could
find with no luck. Finally, they came
upon two young men around Freddie’s age.
They showed the boys a picture of Freddie and asked if they had seen
him. They looked over the picture with
intent and saw some familiarity in his eyes.
It occurred to them that Freddie did, indeed, look like a young man they
met while on the train to Hannover.
While their conversation with him was brief, you did recall him speaking
with the local butcher’s apprentice before they boarded the train.
They quickly hurried down the street to
the butcher’s shop to see if they could question the young apprentice, but
alas, he was nowhere to be found. Their
next stop was the local police station where they begged the constable to look
into their newfound lead. Initially,
they were dismissed, but upon their pleading eyes and the mother’s tearful
woes, the officer agreed to check on Fritz at his apartment.
As they walked to the apartment door,
the officers could hear groaning as if someone were in pain and
struggling. One officer urgently pounded
on the door with a deep, forceful “Police, open up!” The door slowed creaked open to reveal the
left eye of Fritz peering out.
“We heard a commotion in there,” said
the officer.
“Yes, my friend and I were having a
wrestle. Just good fun,” replied Fritz.
The officer asked, “Are you Fritz Heinrich?”
“Why, yes, I am. Is something wrong?”
“We need to ask you a few questions,”
the officer said as he and the other officer stepped forward to make their way
into the one-room apartment. Fritz
briefly hesitated, but then stepped aside as they entered. They surveyed the room to find its simple furnishings. One the bed was a half-dressed lad that
looked to be barely fourteen if a day.
“Who is this?” one of the officers said,
pointing to the young chap.
The young boy looked at Fritz in a panic
as if he were going to be in trouble. Fritz
regained his composure and with confidence spit out, “This is my cousin
visiting from Hamburg.” The boy nodded
in agreement.
The officers slowly meandered around the
room, spying various objects. His poise
masked Fritz’s underlying tension as the officers drew closer and closer to the
“kitchen”.
“We understand that you were seen with a
young man named Freddie Rothe a few weeks ago at the train station. Is that true?”
One of the officers handed a photograph
of Freddie to Fritz for observation.
Fritz studied the picture, remembering every curve of his dark tan
face. He quickly snapped out of his
trance with a retort, “Yes, I met him at the train station. We had a pint or two and that was that.”
“So you never saw him after that”
inquired the officer.
Fritz quickly mustered a convincing
response, “No, he said he had to catch his next train.”
The other officer asked, “Where was he
headed?”
“He didn’t say. Is he in some kind of trouble? He isn’t a fugitive from justice, is he?”
Fritz joked.
“No, he’s a runaway. His parents are looking for him, and you are
the last person that we know of that has seen him.”
“Oh, no!
What a shame. How frightening for
his parents,” Fritz fabricated sympathy to mask his knowing.
“Well, let us know if you hear from him
or see him again. And keep it down in
here. We don’t want to get neighbor
complaints about the noise.”
“Will do, Constables. Good day.”
As the officers exited, a sense of
relief and anticipation showered over Fritz.
The boy still had a confused and tense sense about him. Fritz locked the door and rested his forehead
against it. He released a quiet sigh of ease. When the officers were inspecting the kitchen
area, if they had looked behind the stove, they would have found Freddie’s
mummified head. Using various methods of
preserving meat such as dry-aging and salt-curing, he learned how to keep parts
of the body as trophies to remember his encounters.
Fritz spent the next few years plying
his trade and becoming quite accomplished in butchery. The work felt natural as though he were born
to do it. One would even say he was
passionate about his work. He had become
a functioning and steady part of the community.
And as old man Karl handed over the business to him, Fritz was now
becoming a more prosperous man.
Local authorities were knowledgeable of
Fritz’s checkered past including the awareness of his presumed closeted homosexuality,
which was illegal at the time and punishable by imprisonment. One of his many confinements to prison
involved him sodomizing a young male shortly after he left the army. He was very knowledgeable of the criminal
enterprises that populated the area of the time. He used this history to make himself an asset
to the police, and they gladly accepted his offer of assistance.
He fancied himself an informant of sorts
for the local police, providing them with information on the area’s criminal
underground. That did not stop his lewd
and lascivious activities. This allowed
him to redirect attention from himself and his own criminal activities. It also afforded him access to younger
delinquents. He began committing
misdemeanor sexual offenses that went unreported due to the shame that the victims
felt.
The police paid less and less attention
to Fritz as they had before because of all of the leads that he was providing
them now. They had devised some
operations where Fritz would be used as a pawn for fencing stolen goods through
his butchery. These stings resulted in
several arrests over the months. To
reduce suspicion of Fritz being in cahoots, the police would “arrest” him
during these raids along with the other criminals, yet releasing him afterward
claiming a lack of evidence. The police
began to rely on Fritz more and more which gave him a greater cloak of power
and influence.
Fritz began to prey on young men from
the nearby train station. Some were mere
travelers on a stop-over in Hannover, while others were servicemen traveling
for war. Many of these travelers were
not Hannover natives, so they would not be recognized by the locals as being
familiar in looks. Their absences would
go unnoticed until much later.
People are often curious if evil is born
or if it is created from circumstance.
That question could be asked of Fritz.
He had been largely coddled by his mother, and his teachers felt he was
quite spoiled. His frequent disruptions
in class lead him to be held after school in detention. At one of these moments, he had been molested
by a male teacher. Could this have lead
to his sexual confusion later in life, or was it something inborn?
As time passed, more and more young men
met their demise after casually encountering Fritz and his butcher shop. An apartment above the butcher shop became
vacant as part of Fritz’s lease agreement with old man Karl, and he promptly
moved in. How convenient would it be for
him to live so close to his work? But
little did anyone else know, the shop was more than just a place for his
daytime work. Fritz had learned from his
meeting and dismembering of Freddie that he needed more space to work and a
better location for cleaning up the inevitable mess that would follow.
About a half a mile from the train
station was the Leine River. What a perfect
location to give the bodies back to the earth.
Fritz would discard the remains of his victims into the river for their
existence to be erased by nature. Before
he discovered this convenient location, Fritz had buried young Freddie in the
Stockener Cemetery, which was mere feet from his apartment building. In the cover of night, he would not be seen
disposing of his victims. The same could
be said of the accommodating river.
The train station became a smorgasbord
of young men just ripe for the picking.
There, he found a bevy of delicious options from young male commuters to
runaways and the occasional male prostitute.
It was a lurid game of enticing these fellows to his apartment for a
night of depravity and then killing them.
Fritz would become so consumed with the moment that it felt as if
another being completely took over. He
became engrossed in the debauchery of the sexual acts as well as the
viciousness of the murders. It was a
deep obsession that he relished. The
periods in between each killing became shorter and shorter as his need for
blood grew stronger than his need for food or breath.
Disposal of the remains became a game in
and of itself as well. The thrill of
carrying body parts to the bank of the river while being undetected was a rush
of adrenaline for him. One day, he
became curious as he was dismembering Ernest, who was missing from running some
errands for his parents. What would
human flesh taste like? To Fritz, it did
not look unlike that of a lamb that he filleted each and every day. He slowly rubbed a pat of butter on a heating
cast iron skillet with the apprehension of the meat searing on the heat. The smell of the sizzling flesh had somewhat
of a “gamey” scent, like that of fresh venison.
His mouth watered as he turned the meat to get seared on the other side
before gently placing it on the awaiting plate.
He sat at his table, tucking a napkin into his bloodstained shirt. A dash of salt for seasoning, he slices a
one-inch cube of his prize. The warmth
was inviting to his lips and the taste was a savory-sweet. It was even better than he ever could have
imagined. He couldn’t help but wonder if
the meat was so tender because the boy was so young. After the age of twenty, he estimated that
the meat would become more tough and stringy.
Yes, sixteen was a fine age.
He went from retaining body parts as
trophies to keeping items that belonged to the victims. Sometimes he would give them away as presents
to unwitting friends. Other times, he
would make a profit off the items by selling them through the web of the black
market. On occasion, he would keep a
trinket or two for himself like a nice leather wallet with the initial “H”
engraved on the side.
And there seemed to be no reasonable
excuse to discard a fine, new yellow overcoat.
The double-breasted raincoat had belonged to Erich Heins, a runaway from
the town of Limmer whom Fritz had met, like many others, at the train
station. He offered the young man a hot
meal and place to sleep for the night that the desperate lad could not
resist. But Erich would not get any
rest. Fritz attempted to seduce young Erich,
and when his advances were rejected, Fritz flew into a rage. After the event had ended, Fritz was left
standing over a dead Erich. The poor boy
had been choked into unconsciousness and then sodomized while he lay senseless
on the floor. Teeth marks decorated his
throat as blood trickled down from Fritz’s lips.
After having tasted the delicacy of
human flesh, it seemed a waste to discard free meat. He began butchering his victims in the
shop. It had all of the tools at his
ready. Draining them of their blood there
made discarding the refuse much easier and less messy. He would sell the unused human flesh on the
black market under the guise of being pork or horse meat. What a clever means of disposal!
Fritz’s pattern of behavior became more
developed and repetitive. He would meet
these young men, often runaways, at the train station. He would offer them food, booze, and a place
to sleep for the night. This offer was
comforting for the desperate delinquents who gladly and hastily accepted. Whether willing participants or not, Fritz
made lovers of them. In the midst of
passion, he was compelled to lacerate their throats by forcefully biting the
Adam’s apple and crushing the trachea.
Their deaths would be suffered by these “love bites” ending in
asphyxiation. At times, these brutal
bites would cause his teeth to completely sever the flesh. If they did not die from suffocation, they
would from blood loss. After draining
and dismembering the young men, their bodies were easily ditched into the Leine
River which was very near the butcher shop and train station. The process was fulfilling and efficient.
Late October 1918, Fritz was trolling
the train station when he made the acquaintance of Hans Bock. The twenty-year-old had run away from home when
he was seventeen and lived hand to mouth ever since. Hans initiated the conversation with Fritz by
attempting to sell him articles of clothing.
Hans was nearly penniless after leaving home abruptly after an argument
with his father three years earlier. This
was a different encounter than usual for Fritz.
Usually, he was the one that began the engagement with the youth, not
the other way around. This intrigued
Fritz. He offered to buy the young man a
drink at the nearby public house, to which Hans quickly accepted.
Fritz rarely had bouts of empathy, if
any, but seems quite taken by Hans.
Their exchange of pleasantries turned to alluring conversations with
more depth. Fritz found Hans very
fetching, a very different connection than with the others. Hans took Fritz’s breath away with his
straightforward and direct presence. He
had never met a young man that was so assertive, teetering on aggressive, and
he liked it.
Amid their exchange, Han took the
initiative to directly propositioning Fritz.
This took Fritz quite off guard, but excited him of the prospect.
“Would you be interested in a nightcap?”
asked Hans.
“Whatever do you mean? Isn’t that what we’re doing now?” replied
Fritz. The child-like enthusiasm had
shown in his eyes.
Hans began negotiations, “I was thinking
of something a bit more intimate if you are keen on such a thing. I could give you a very good time for about a
two mark?”
Fritz mildly contemplated, “Two,
aye? That sounds agreeable. Shall we?”
Fritz motioned toward the door for them
to exit. Hans led the way toward the
door. As they walked toward Fritz’s
apartment, it was as though they were the only two on the street. Although Fritz knew this to be a monetary exchange
that he had engaged in many times before, this time felt different. Dare he thinks that this may be love at first
sight? Fritz had never felt romantic
love before, or possibly any love as that was not a functioning part of his
nature. Fritz did not have the capacity
of emotion but could mimic it well to blend into the community. It could be said that Fritz rarely felt
anything at all until he started playing his game of cat and mouse over a
decade before. It was in that game that
he felt desire, drive, and excitement.
This felt stronger than any drug or drink that he could ever
imagine.
Their passion could barely be contained as
they entered the little one-room apartment.
They began tearing at each other’s clothes as ravenous animals, clawing,
and scratching at a maddening manner.
The pleasure and pain meld into one seamlessly. They each enjoyed it immensely. They each took turns dominating the other,
yet there was no fear or rage as Fritz had felt before. Had he found a worthy adversary? Fritz bit the side of Hans’ neck, but not
nearly as ferociously as he had done with the others. Hans writhed in ecstasy and titillation.
As the encounter began to wind down, it
did not end in the usual way. Hans
lived. For some reason, Hans was different. Hans was twenty years his junior. Fritz felt the unlikely need for Hans’
approval. He craved his approval. He yearned for it. Hans quickly became his world and meant
everything to him. At one moment, they
were lovers. Other times, they had an
almost father/son relationship. And at
times, they were the best of friends.
Hans had become the accomplished petty
thief and conman. He was strikingly
good-looking which was mesmerizing for those who encountered him. His eyes were a piercing blue, and his smile
was brilliant and inviting. He exuded
charm to the extent that both women and men were drawn to him. He may have been young, but his street-smarts
were beyond his years.
It didn’t take long before Fritz invited
Hans to come to live with him, which Hans gladly accepted. Their relationship had its moment of turmoil
as their passion would at times turn into violent, angry arguments. Fritz would banish Hans from their shared
dwelling, but within a day or so, he would become manic, pleading for Hans to
return home to him. He needed Hans to
need him. This was the most compelling
and consuming force in Fritz’s life, aside from his thirst for blood.
Instead of becoming a victim to Fritz,
Hans ultimately worked a con on him. He
maintained control in the relationship, and his influence over Fritz was very
apparent. He knew that Fritz had
diminished mental faculties which Hans was eager to take advantage of for his
own gain and entertainment. Soon, Hans
became a scout, seeking out possible victims for Fritz to enjoy. This came easy to Hans as he was a flesh-peddler
of sorts. There were three ladies that
he had been managing in harlotry for the past three years. His ill-gotten gains had kept him fed and
clothed ever since he had abruptly left home.
Soon the pair became a cohesive
unit. Hans would pick-pocket the
unsuspecting at the train stations, and Fritz had the means to sell objects
through his connections in the black market.
It didn’t take long for Hans to figure out Fritz’s dirty little
secret. Hans unexpectedly came home
early one evening only to find Fritz standing over a lifeless body in the middle
of the floor. Instead of being alarmed,
he casually asked, “Should I return later?”
Instead of being put off by the
discovery, Hans began to encourage the behavior. If walking down the street Hans spied a
jacket that he fancied, he would point out the mark to Fritz. They would casually introduce themselves and
spark up a conversation. Hans was quite
charismatic and quickly made their targets feel at ease. While Hans did not participate in the murders
themselves, he found it utterly erotic and intensely satisfying to encourage
and watch.
As the seasons changed, the number of missing
people increased. The police could not help
but notice that the victims were all male and mostly within the age ranges of thirteen
to twenty-two. This could not be a
coincidence. Could these disappearances
be connected?
On a late Spring day, some children were
playing near the banks of the Leine River.
As the cool breeze came off of the water, the children were digging the
moist earth with sticks as children do.
In their minds, they were looking for buried treasure possible from a
pirate’s bounty, but what they unearthed was to be a prize that they did not
expect.
The skull of a human was mere feet from
them. As they ran off with screams of
terror, they were stopped by a nearby constable who was on patrol. As the officer tried to calm them, they
frantically told their story of their horrific finding.
Before long, the river bank was flooded
with officers and other officials combing the area for other bones, which they
found in abundance. The skull that the
children initially found had bore knife wounds. At first, the officials theorized that this
must be discarded parts from the nearby anatomical institute or possibly
discards from grave robbers. But alas, these
theories were rejected with the number of parts found and the tool marks
engraved into the bones. While some of
the bones had clearly been in the water for some time, others appeared to have
more fresh cuts on them.
The town was in a panic. Could there be a deranged murder among them?
As police and municipal workers dragged
the river area, they recovered over 500 pieces of bone that, after analyzed,
the specimens were determined to be from young males primarily between the ages
of 14 and 18. Rumors began furiously
circling. It was a great belief that
something unnatural was afoot. There was
talk of a river “werewolf’” being at large.
This unprecedented finding spurred gossip of “man-eater” being in their
midst. There was also talk that human
meat may have been for sale in the public market! The rumors and speculation were endless.
The police began questioning every petty
thief and deviant that they could find.
After weeks of detective work, a suspect came to mind. Had the culprit been right under their noses
this entire time? With a long history of
criminal activity and sexual perversion, Fritz Heinrich became their primary
suspect. He had a history of sexual
assault on males, especially younger in age.
He lived near the area that the bodies were found. He had a butcher shop where he could easily
dismember the bodies with cuts similar to those found upon the discovered
remains.
Fritz was very unassuming to the point
of being friendly and courteous in nature and meek in appearance. He was of average height, but with a
muscular, well-toned build. When not in
the butcher shop drenched in blood, he was often seen as well-groomed with a
trimmed, light brown mustache. He was
talkative to detectives in the past as to almost insert himself into
investigations. He had been an asset to
them, so they did not initially find this odd or off-putting at first.
As suspicion for Fritz Heinrich grew,
investigators decided to put him under surveillance in mid-June. Since he was a trusted informant, he knew most
of the Hannover police force, so two officers were brought in from Berlin to go
undercover to observe Fritz without the fear of him recognizing them. Fritz often scoured the train station under
the guise of gaining information for the police to use, but what the officers
didn’t know is that was also his hunting ground. He used the excuse that he was “patrolling”
the area to aid the police.
He had even gone so far as to pose as a
detective to lure one unsuspecting young man to his death. Graham Richards fell victim to Fritz after
claiming that he was a local detective and may have a job for the plucky
seventeen-year-old. What was there to
fear, after all, he was part of the Hannover Police Station?
Days into following and observing Fritz,
he was seen at the train station arguing with a fifteen-year-old Franz
Karl. Fritz claimed that Karl had been
travelling with forged documents and ordered that a nearby officer should arrest
the fifteen-year-old. The officer
obliged Fritz’s wishes, but upon his arrest, Karl eluded to the police that he
had been held captive by Fritz for the past four days until his escape. At the police station, Karl broke down into tears,
pleading with the officers for help. He
informed them that he had been beaten and repeatedly raped by Fritz in his
apartment over the butcher shop. This
was the break that the investigators had been looking for.
The next morning, Fritz awoke to a heavy
pounding on his door. He half expected
this knock, but was still under the illusion that his work with the police made
him above the law. He was promptly
arrested and charged with sexual assault on a minor. This allowed probable cause for the
detectives to search his room as well as the butcher shop. To their horror, they discovered blood-stained
walls that ran down to the cover the floors as well. The bedding was now brown from the massive
amounts of blood that they had held.
Fritz explained that this was from his meat trade. While normally a convincing argument, it fell
on deaf ears.
His open and approachable personality
closed up once he began to be interrogated by officials. He nervously rubbed his fingertips as he became
visibly uncomfortable and agitated. Any
pleasantries from Fritz ceased as his face had become sullen. The investigators informed Fritz that
neighbors and acquaintances had been questioned. How could he explain being seen with so many
teenage boys? Or what about his
late-night outings, carrying dark sacks as he walked toward the river. All this time, he had the impression that his
activities had gone undetected by his neighbors.
In an interrogation room in the Hannover
Police Station sat a table containing a multitude of articles of clothing and
other personal effects. One after one,
parents and family of reported missing youth were notified and called into the
police station to peruse the items and see if they could identify any of the
items as being those of their loved ones.
These objects were once possessed by someone’s son or brother. Fritz hastily dismissed these revelations as
being obtained through this trading. Who
knew who owned them before he procured them?
His lies could not put a dent in the
mountain of evidence that was accruing against him. Soon, a plethora of witnesses came forward
identifying Fritz as being seen in the company of these victims before their
demises. The documentation was
overwhelming, and Fritz could no longer contradict what was facing him. He was becoming markedly distressed,
resulting in a seizure. As he rived on
the floor during the event, one of his sisters clung to him in an act of
support. His sister, Mary, had been
called by the police. She was familiar
with these attacks as he had a history of epileptic seizures since his
boyhood. Once the moment passed and he
regained his composure, his sister pled with him to tell her the truth.
Alone in the holding room with Fritz,
tears traced her face as she held his head in her hands. She couldn’t believe that this little boy
that she used to play dress-up with could be this monster that the police were
portraying. This was the same boy who
had been tormented by bullies on the schoolyard and was the target of their father’s
aggression. How could this weakling of a
child have turned into such a heartless, unconscionable creature?
After the urging from Mary, Fritz
decided to confess to the awaiting detectives.
He conceded to the allegations that he did, indeed, rape, kill, and
finally dismember and dispose of the young men in question. He could only describe his acts as rabid
sexual passion, although, he insisted that he never meant to kill any of these
victims. He could not control these
urges, including the biting into and through their Adam’s apples. He explained that this happened as this was
strangling them in the throes of passion.
This allowed him to complete his sexual climax.
His description of dismembering his
lovers was much like if he were describing the field dressing a deer after the
hunt. He was methodical in approach,
following each step accordingly. As a
butcher, he understood the anatomy of animals and how to remove organs with minimal
mess from blood loss. Before he would
begin the procedure, he would swig a couple of shots of whiskey. He would place the body on the floor on top
of a blanket. He would first remove the
intestines and place them in a bucket.
Towels were used to absorb the excess blood in the body cavity to reduce
the mess. After breaking the rib cage,
he removed the lungs, heart, kidney, and other organs. He would dice them up before adding them to
the bucket. Next, he would remove each limb,
filleting the flesh from them as well as the torso. Lastly, he would remove the head. He would strip the flesh from the head
exposing the skull, which he would pound with a hammer or hatchet to gain
access to the brain. The brain was then
placed in the bucket. The process was
tedious and time-consuming, but made the body more manageable to carry the
distance to the bank and for the contents to be poured into the river. A bucket and a gunny sack seemed to do the
trick. He thought that the Leine River
would carry away all of his sins to never be discovered again.
In his confession, he only admitted to
murders for which he saw the evidence.
He teased, “There may be some that you don’t know about.” When questioned how many, he responded, “I’m
not sure. Probably somewhere between
fifty to seventy-five.” He was
dismissive in his responses to the investigators. Each victim that he was asked about, he
responded with a shrug of the shoulders and muttered things to the effect “I
might have killed him. I’m not sure.” All in all, the police connected Fritz to 27
disappearances. When asked about Hans’
involved, Fritz venomously denied that he had any hand in the murders at
all. The police knew that this could not
be true.
Fritz went on trial for the murders of
27 individuals. Against Fritz’s
insistence, Hans was also charged with being an accessory to murder, which he
denied any involvement. One hundred and
ninety people were witnesses for the prosecution including former neighbors,
acquaintances, psychiatrists, police officers, as well as parents of the
deceased victims.
The press was frenzied as Hannover had
never seen a murder of this magnitude.
The city was abuzz with gossip and fantastic stories. Due to the graphic nature of the crimes and
the sexual element, the trial was not open to the public. The trial lasted a little over two
weeks. Fritz was found guilty of 24 of
the 27 cases and sentenced to 24 death sentences. The judge ordered death by the guillotine. Fritz did not show emotion, remorse or
otherwise, when the decision was read by the judge. When asked by the judge if he had anything to
say, his only response was “I accept the verdict.” Afterward, when asked how he felt about the
verdict, he said, “My death will atone for my sins. If I were free, I would likely kill again.”
Hans was also convicted as it was
claimed that he coerced Fritz into at least two of the murders. While Hans denied it and appealed his
conviction, it was upheld, and he was sentenced to twelve years in prison for
his involvement. After being released,
Hans went on to live in a remote area of Germany until his death at the age of
80.
His face was pale white and his body
gaunt as he approached the guillotine.
At dawn on the morning of April 15, nearly one year after his final
arrest, Fritz was beheaded by guillotine at the Hannover prison. Only a handful of witnesses were present to
witness the death. His last words were, “I
may be guilty, and I am prepared to leave this earth. I do not fear death.”
Years later, it has been questioned if Fritz
Heinrich should have stood trial at all.
Some question his mental capacity, but after being evaluated by
municipal psychiatrists, he was deemed sane and accountable for his
actions. Others contend that he suffered
from undiagnosed mental illness, even though he had spent time in mental
institutions in his youth and after the military. His head was obtained by the Gottingen
Medical School to be analyzed and is permanently preserved in formaldehyde.
The remains of the victims were buried
in a communal grave in the Stockener Cemetery.
A large granite stone was placed at the site with each victim’s name memorialized
upon it.
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