Фолькер Кучер - Babylon Berlin

‘That’s a possibility.’ She said it evenly. ‘They’ll probably throw you out for good. You have to take that into account.’

‘Thanks for the tip! But I’m a cop, I can’t do anything else.’

‘Then become a private detective.’

‘Spy on unfaithful wives? Act as a bodyguard for a UFA film star? Thanks, but no thanks!’

‘Sometimes life doesn’t give you any other choice.’

‘Christ, Charly! What the hell have I gone and done! If I had just told you everything straightaway, things would never have got this far.’

‘If, would; they’re words I don’t like. It is how it is. Look the facts in the eye. What’s done is done.’

‘That sounds pretty harsh.’

‘Life is harsh, Inspector.’

‘Are you always such a fatalist? What about us? What’s done is done – does that still apply?’

She hesitated a moment before answering.

‘I haven’t cried over a man since I was seventeen,’ she said. ‘And I promised myself that it wouldn’t happen again.’ She surveyed him with that cold gaze he so dreaded. ‘I didn’t keep my promise, Gereon. I cried over you, you bastard! Do you think I want to put myself through that again?’

He didn’t have to explain to Gennat what he had been up to. It was utter bedlam at the Castle.

They had found the grave, and not just the one Alexej Kardakov had been in for weeks before it was dug up in the middle of the Spandau Forest. They had come upon a real cemetery. Under a carpet of yellowing pine needles, the cops had also found a missing Soviet embassy employee named Vadim Troschin, as well as two German Red Front fighters, whom the police had assumed had gone underground in the wake of the RFB ban.

Underground was about right, joked Henning, who was working on the two men’s files. They had actually been in police custody during the May disturbances but had obviously messed with the wrong people on release.

That Selenskij and Fallin had dug the graves was almost certain: the tyre tracks ED had found in Spandau Forest matched a stolen DKW steam car they had taken in the day before at Fallin’s goods shed. Kronberg’s people had even found the odd pine needle in its tread. Rath would have bet anything the same DKW had spent some time parked outside the cemetery in Greifswalder Strasse three days ago.

Slowly but surely a picture was emerging. Zörgiebel would be pleased. They had the killers, and Gereon Rath had played his part in catching them. They had resolved most of the questions. Now only one remained. Why had the two men died an unnatural death themselves?

Rath had taken the forensics report back to his office to check for parallels in the Fallin and Selenskij cases. At least that was what he had told Gennat although, in truth, it was the last thing on his mind right now. He didn’t care who had the two Russians on their conscience. The main thing was that they had the right people, and for the time being that would be enough, even for the commissioner. Certainly for the newspaper readers, two brutal thugs had got their just deserts.

So why not forget the whole thing with Wolter and, after a shaky start, get back to the day-to-day business of being in A Division, wait for his opportunity and make a career for himself? Why not?

Because he couldn’t.

Charly’s words were still echoing in his mind. If you want to look yourself in the mirror again…

And he did. She was right. Rath reached for the telephone.

Unfortunately the commissioner was neither in his office nor at home. The man was well guarded. Dörrzwiebel was already packing his case for Magdeburg. The Zörgiebel family lived in spacious police accommodation on the first floor of the Castle, but the commissioner used it more for official purposes, such as when he received prominent guests. For the most part, he lived at his villa in Zehlendorf. Rath decided to drive out there. The Opel was still parked where he had left it in the courtyard below.

He needed almost half an hour. Outside the wrought-iron gate a police officer stood guard. A good sign: Zörgiebel was at home. Rath got out of the car. The cop looked at him suspiciously. The commissioner’s guards had been on edge since the May disturbances, when the communists had stirred up a lot of ill-feeling towards him. He showed his police ID to make it clear he was no Red.

‘What are you doing out here, Inspector?’

‘I have an important message for the commissioner.’

‘You can leave it with me.’

‘A personal message.’

‘The commissioner isn’t receiving any visitors today.’ ‘He’ll make an exception for me.’

‘I hardly think so. I have strict orders not to let anyone through.’

‘Tell him Inspector Rath wants to speak with him.’

‘I…’

He was interrupted by the beeping of a car horn. The cop moved keenly to the gate and opened both sides. There was a crunch of gravel as the heavy Maybach rolled slowly out of the entrance. Rath could make out Zörgiebel’s face in the back as he sat reading through some files. He ran to the still cruising vehicle and rapped on the window. The commissioner didn’t react but the driver did. He stepped on the gas.

Rath chased after the car as it began to pick up speed, until a loud cry caused him to stop.

‘Halt! Stay where you are! Or I’ll shoot!’

He turned round. The paranoid cop had actually drawn his pistol.

‘Listen, this is a misunderstanding. I need to speak to the commissioner. Put your weapon down!’

‘I’d rather you put your hands up , my friend!’

‘My God! I’m not a communist! What do you think I’m going to do? Overturn the commissioner’s car with my bare hands?’

The cop didn’t say anything, just gazed in confusion over Rath’s shoulder. The sound of the engine was growing louder. The Maybach braked right next to the inspector. Zörgiebel had lowered the window.

‘I thought so! My dear Rath, what are you doing here?’

‘Good evening, Commissioner. I think I’m involuntarily testing the speed of your guard’s reactions.’

‘Lower your weapon, officer. Can’t you tell an inspector from an assassin?’

The cop put his pistol away with a hangdog expression. At last Rath could turn his attention towards Zörgiebel.

‘I’m here because I have an important message for you, sir…’

‘Gennat’s told me everything already. Good work, man, good work! You didn’t have to drive all the way out here! You’ve taken what I said last week too close to heart!’

‘It’s not about the Kardakov case, Commissioner. Well, actually it is, about things connected to it anyway.’

‘Can’t it wait until next week? I’m en route to Magdeburg. The party conference begins tomorrow and we have our first meeting tonight.’

‘It can’t wait, Commissioner. It’s of the utmost urgency. At the same time, I must ask for absolute confidentiality.’

Zörgiebel considered for a moment.

‘Do you have enough money on you?’

‘Pardon, Commissioner?’

‘Do you have enough money to buy a ticket from Magdeburg back to Berlin?’

‘I think so.’

‘Then what are you waiting for? Get in!’

A moment later, Rath was next to Zörgiebel on the comfortable backseat of the Maybach. They had the back of the car all to themselves. In front of them sat the driver and a police lieutenant, separated by a thick glass pane which blocked out any sound. The driver pounded the vehicle over the country road towards Potsdam.

‘We won’t be disturbed here,’ Zörgiebel said. He had finished reading and seemed to be in a better mood. ‘Can I offer you something to drink?’

Rath was astonished. The commissioner’s official vehicle even had a little bar.