The 300 million thing

The “blade Franz”

This book should be required reading for all entrepreneurs, tax consultants and auditors; unfortunately, only a few remaining copies are still available from us.

The Lettmüller case was our first major case in 1987. The fraudster, who was already wanted for arrest, was tracked down by us in Salzburg at 1 a.m. shortly before he fled abroad. He almost got away scot-free because the arrest warrant issued the day before had not yet been leaked to Salzburg!

Fourth cover page:

„Within a few years, the accountant Franz Lettmüller swindled the largest sum ever embezzled by an individual in the private sector in the Second Republic. The ingenious tricks of the man with the two lives as an inconspicuous accountant and a dazzling Croesus set alarm bells ringing in the auditing departments of banks, industrial and commercial enterprises. It was a brief dream of almost unimaginable luxury, paid for with stolen money and lived on borrowed time.“

007 hunts Lettmüller (page 30)

„In addition to the necessary steps to rescue the severely ailing company and to secure the remaining parts of the apparently misappropriated assets worth millions as quickly as possible, there was only one question on the minds of the shareholders and managing directors: Where was Franz Lettmüller? Had he gone into hiding in Austria? Or had he already absconded abroad to enjoy the remaining fruits of his embezzlement undisturbed and carefree in some tropical banana republic, living proof that crime pays? His trail was lost on Friday 5 March, the last time he was on duty. Five days later, on Wednesday, an arrest warrant was issued for Franz Lettmüller and a nationwide manhunt was launched.

The old management of Europapier was still in office at this time and may well have still been hoping to save their professional position or, if not possible, at least improve the legal situation for any subsequent labour court proceedings. So on Wednesday, the decision was made not to leave the search for the missing man to the police and gendarmerie alone, but to also hire a private investigator. But which one? According to credible reports, the selection criterion was the well-known number combination 007 in the Vienna telephone number 840 007, and this was the connection of the detective agency Pöchhacker Ges.m.b.H. This decision, whether made by chance, as the story goes, or based on a previous acquaintance, proved in retrospect to be extremely expedient for the further course of events.

At eight o’clock on Wednesday evening, the phone rang in the agency’s offices and professional detective Walter Pöchhacker took on the job of finding the needle in the haystack. The detective, a full-bearded giant and 33 years old at the time, was hardly a classic private eye in the mould of Philip Marlowe or Lew Archer. Having already been self-employed for four years, he had built up a staff of 36 well-trained employees, including six women, who had been selected thanks to the strict Austrian licensing regulations. 007 – Pöchhacker himself claims to have chosen this telephone number for advertising reasons – thus ran one of the largest detective agencies in the country, which was to bring lasting benefits to both sides in the further cooperation with Europapier.

When the two managing directors issued the order to search for a person, the information provided was meagre. The time since the scandal broke had been too short for anyone to have gained a more detailed overview of the wanted man’s private life and habits. There was a signed arrest warrant and a personal description that pointed to Lettmüller’s wide-legged, waddling gait and weighty stature – he weighed at least 140 kilograms. That same evening, the agency’s employees were dispatched by radio. Addresses were collected and observed, and the investigations focussed on the suspected whereabouts in Vienna, Perchtoldsdorf, Schäffern in Styria and Punitz in Burgenland. A tip from the trotting scene provided the first indication of a stud farm in Salzburg’s Pongau region, allegedly owned by Lettmüller and run by a man called Bürgler or something similar.

Heinz Edinger, the detective assigned to this tenuous lead, promptly drove to Pongau at night and took up his position. When luck is on your side, as in the lottery, anything is possible. In the small village of Goldegg, Edinger stopped his car in front of the inn “Zum Bierführer” to take a break. After 1 AM, he saw two men enter the inn, one of whom matched the distinctively heavy description provided. This could be Lettmüller—no, it had to be him! Edinger left his vehicle and entered the inn, where he confirmed that the stout man had a room in the house, where he apparently intended to spend the rest of the night.

It was a close call, and the big catch almost slipped through the detective’s fingers. Had he followed the usual protocols of his profession, he would have done what § 86 Absatz 2 of the Code of Criminal Procedure stipulates for such cases: “If there are sufficient reasons to believe that a person is committing, has committed, or is being sought for a judicially punishable act, any person is authorized to detain this person in an appropriate manner. However, he is obliged to report the detention immediately to the nearest security authority.” Translated into layman’s terms, he should have apprehended the horse enthusiast Lettmüller, but Edinger did not. Instead, he allowed the tracked-down defrauder a few more hours of his last sleep in freedom and informed his central office in Vienna, which, in turn, at four in the morning, relayed the good news to the company boss Walter Pöchhacker—who was, at that time, keeping watch in front of Lettmüller’s weekend house in Schäffern, Styria. After this consultation, Edinger reported his discovery to the nearest gendarmerie post in Goldegg, where he was met with surprise and disbelief. The news of the arrest warrant against Franz Lettmüller due to an urgent flight risk had not yet reached Pongau. Had the detective shown up at the gendarmerie with Lettmüller in tow, there would have been no reason to “detain” him, and Lettmüller, once warned, would have had another chance to escape. The following hours were spent feverishly trying to locate someone competent in Vienna who could confirm the arrest warrant to the gendarmerie. Finally, at nine o’clock, bookkeeper Franz Lettmüller was arrested. He offered no resistance and only remarked that he was glad it was all over.

Nearly two years later, Lettmüller testified in court as a defendant, claiming he had no intention of fleeing. He said he only wanted to see his favorite horse, “Lucky Joe,” which was in training in Pongau. If he had truly intended to go abroad, it would have been easy for him to start a new life somewhere with a hundred million schillings. What his true motives were can no longer be determined today.

One thing is certain: through an unfortunate twist of fate, the golden years of the greatest embezzler of the Second Republic came to an end, a fate that had so often been in his favor during those years.“

Torsten Weinitzer.- Vienna: Ueberreuter, 1989 ISBN 3-8000-3279-1

* Note: This claim cannot be entirely reconciled with the fact that Lettmüller’s passport was brought to him by his wife from Schäffern on the same night.