In the early 20th century, the Hungarian rural population still strongly believed in the existence of ghosts, demons and vampires. Therefore, it was no wonder that the villagers of Czinkota, a dull town near Budapest, became uneasy when they crossed Bela Kiss's path, the local farrier. There was being told about him that he had 'the second face', that he could predict calamity, and that he, when he didn't like someone, could bewitch him. Since the mysterious disappearance of his wife, he acted like a reborn 'living dead'.
In 1914, his fellow-villagers were relieved to hear Kiss would join the army. Before he left, he closed the smithy, locked the doors and barricaded the windows. Not that it would have made any difference: the inhabitants of Czinkota avoided the dilapidated building as they were convinced it was cursed.
Until 1916, the house was left undisturbed. The war had been going on for two years, and the fighting parties were in need of fuel, so the police was sent out to see if they could get any gasoline, that was being hoard here and there. Some inhabitants of Czinkota knew that, on Kiss's attic, several barrels were stored, which probably contained fuel. An elderly woman, who used to clean Kiss's smithy, had seen them, and she was promptly sent packing. The policemen forced themselves a way in, while the villagers stayed at a safe distance. When they reached the attic, they saw the woman had been right: seven barrels were neatly put next to each other. The officers thought they had made a nice catch.
When they jerked the lid of the nearest container, they backed, astonished. The stench was terrible. The boldest of them dared to glance what was inside of it. He saw a naked woman's body, folded up, the rope that had strangled her, still around her neck. The other barrels held the same content. The house was searched, a huge pile of women's clothes were found, and a large amount of jewelry was also discovered. The quantity of found objects seemed to indicate there were more than seven victims. When they started to dig the yard, seventeen more bodies were found, all women who had been strangled.
After a profound investigation, it appeared Kiss had been using matrimonial ads in papers to select his victims, like Henri Landru had done. Since the 'disappearance' of his wife - she was found in one of the containers - there was nobody left to discover his evil practices; his bad image made sure nobody entered the smithy, and he had enough space to make the bodies disappear. The material evidence said enough about Kiss's guilt, but nobody knew where he was.
The army's administration service was asked for more information about him. It seemed he would have been sent to Serbia and been deadly hit. He would have died in a military field hospital. At least, those were the facts that were officially registered. A nurse, who had taken care of the dying Kiss, described him as a young soldier, not even 20 years old. Kiss was 42 when he gave himself up for service. A reasonable explanation was that Kiss had been in the same hospital, and that he had switched his own identity tag with the one from a deadly wounded comrade. Kiss returned under the name of a deceased man.
The rest of the story will probably always stay a riddle. The possibilities are multitude: maybe Kiss was killed in the battlefield after all. On further consideration however, that's wishful thinking. It's much more likely that he deserted and took a header somewhere. It is a fact that he was noticed on several places after the war, but nobody knows what's true and what has been made up. One thing's for sure: Bela Kiss has never paid for his crimes.