Фолькер Кучер - The Silent Death

A coarse ringing sound interrupted his thoughts. The telephone on Erika Voss’s desk. Perhaps it was Gräf. Rath took the call on his own line. ‘Yes?’

‘Am I speaking with Detective Inspector Rath’s office? A Division?’ a woman’s voice asked.

‘You’re speaking with Rath himself. With whom do I have the pleasure?’

‘Greulich, Dr Weiss’s office. The deputy commissioner wishes to speak to you in half an hour, Inspector.’

‘What’s it about?’

‘Dr Weiss will tell you that himself.’

Rath was surprised. Until now he had only seen the Vipoprä, as Zörgiebel’s deputy was known in the Castle, from afar, and had barely exchanged a word. What could Dr Weiss, undoubtedly one of the best criminal investigators in Berlin, want with little old Inspector Gereon Rath? Had Böhm lodged a complaint? Rath smelled trouble. He would have preferred it to be Zörgiebel, one of his father’s old friends, but the police commissioner had disappeared to Mainz for the carnival period.

He spent the next half-hour thinking, before leaving Erika Voss, who still hadn’t returned from her break, a note, and making his way over.

Frau Greulich was very brightly dressed. ‘Your colleagues are waiting,’ she said, and Rath wondered why she had used the plural. She lifted the receiver and dialled a number. ‘Herr Rath is here,’ she said. And then to Rath: ‘Please go on through.’

Rath went on through.

Dr Bernhard Weiss sat behind a large desk covered in files, his eyes alert behind thick spectacles. The man exuded a natural authority that made Rath nervous. He knew how to deal with Zörgiebel, but the deputy seemed to be of a different calibre: definitely nobody’s fool. He was more reassured by the presence of the second man. Ernst Gennat. As long as Buddha was there, things couldn’t get too bad.

‘Good morning, gentlemen,’ he said, shaking the men’s hands in order of rank.

‘Sit down, please,’ Weiss said, a little chilly. No friendly please take a seat. Sit down sounded more like something a teacher would say.

Rath sat in an armchair next to Gennat. For a moment silence reigned, as the noise of the typewriter penetrated quietly and somehow soothingly through the padded door. ‘Good that you could come at such short notice, Inspector,’ Weiss began the conversation. ‘It concerns a delicate matter.’

Almost a year ago someone had accused Rath of murder; back then it was Gennat who had showed up. He had used a similar turn of phrase.

Weiss looked him in the eye. ‘How would you describe your relationship with Detective Inspector Frank Brenner?’

So, Brenner had made a big deal of their little quarrel. ‘Not exactly friendly,’ Rath said. ‘More collegial?’

‘I have received an internal complaint,’ Weiss continued. ‘Inspector Brenner claims that you struck him several times without cause last Saturday night in the Residenz-Casino. What do you say to that?’

‘I did strike Herr Brenner, Sir, but not without cause.’

‘What reason can there be to strike a colleague in public? You do know that we should be mindful of our institution’s reputation at all times.’

‘No one knew we were police officers,’ Rath said. ‘It was a masked ball and we were both in fancy dress.’

‘That doesn’t answer my question.’

‘There was a reason, Sir, but a private one. Inspector Brenner violated a woman’s honour.’

‘A woman’s honour?’

‘A mutual acquaintance.’

‘Inspector, the age where one fought a duel over a woman is over, thank God. Don’t you think your reaction was a little over the top?’

‘I warned Herr Brenner – I asked him to stop.’

‘Stop what?’

‘He said some very coarse things, revolting in fact. I wouldn’t like to repeat them here, Sir.’

‘Who is the woman in question?’

‘I’m afraid I can’t tell you that either.’

‘Why not?’

‘With respect, it is none of your concern. My quarrel with DI Brenner was a private matter.’

‘If a police officer strikes someone, be it a colleague or a civilian, it is anything but a private matter!’

Weiss was shouting.

‘I apologise, Sir, I didn’t mean it like that. Nonetheless, I don’t want to drag the woman in question into this.’

‘I didn’t mean to offend you, Inspector,’ said Weiss, more conciliatory. ‘It’s simply a question of naming possible witnesses who in case of doubt might testify on your behalf. Inspector Brenner has named Detective Czerwinski, who appears to have witnessed the incident.’

‘What does Czerwinski say?’

‘We still haven’t questioned him.’

‘It was a minor difference of opinion between colleagues – I’m not sure it needs to be described as an incident.’

‘Don’t talk it down, Rath. Inspector Brenner toyed with the idea of bringing charges against you and instituting disciplinary proceedings. Luckily for you, I was able to persuade him that it made more sense for us to deal with it internally. What do you think will happen if the press gets wind of this?’

‘So why isn’t Brenner here? We could shake each other by the hand and the matter would be forgotten. That’s how I’d deal with it.’

‘Inspector Brenner is currently unable to work on account of his injuries,’ Weiss said, still in his ultra-matter-of-fact tone.

Rath swallowed hard. There was no way he had beaten the fatty up that badly. Perhaps he had fallen awkwardly? He couldn’t help thinking of the arm in the sling. ‘I’m sorry to hear that,’ he said.

‘So you should be.’ Weiss gazed at him seriously, making Rath feel like a flagellate under a microscope. ‘Do you often lose your temper?’

‘What do you mean, Sir?’

‘I think my question was clear. Do you have your temper under control?’

Was that an allusion to his past? Rath wasn’t sure how much he knew about what had happened in Cologne. Still, that didn’t have anything to do with his temper, he couldn’t mean that.

‘Of course, Sir. I am always conscious of my responsibilities as a police officer.’

‘Except for this one occasion, clearly.’

‘Yes, Sir.’

‘Good, then please see to it that nothing like this happens again. I’d like your report of the incident on my desk tomorrow.’

‘Yes, Sir.’ Rath thought he was dismissed. He rose from his chair, casting a sidelong glance at Gennat who had remained silent throughout.

‘Wait a minute, Inspector,’ Weiss said, ‘we’re not finished with you yet!’

Rath sat back down.

‘We’d like to hear your opinion on this,’ said the deputy, placing the latest edition of B.Z. am Mittag on the table. Rath didn’t recognise the article, only the name in the author byline: Stefan Fink.

He skimmed the article. Fink had dredged up the old rumours and coaxed a few conspiracy theories out of Bellmann, but had nevertheless managed to quote Detective Inspector Gereon Rath in all the crucial places.

Police are still searching for a fugitive lighting technician. ‘Betty Winter’s death was no accident,’ Detective Inspector Gereon Rath revealed to our paper. Does that make the technician a murder suspect? Inspector Rath spoke of an ‘important witness’, but it wouldn’t be the first time police have used this circumlocution to lull a potential suspect into a false sense of security. So, where do police stand? When will they finally arrest the killer walking among us? Detective Chief Inspector Wilhelm Böhm, the officer leading the investigation, was unable to provide an answer. Rath had this to say: ‘there’s always someone in charge, it’s the rest of us who do the work.’

Shit! That rat! ‘I have already informed Superintendent Gennat that I don’t set any great store by appearing in these newspaper articles.’