Фолькер Кучер - Babylon Berlin

It didn’t take long for the master of the house to emerge. Rath put the Angriff he had been leafing through to one side.

‘Ah, it’s you! Are you acting as Bruno’s messenger again?’

‘The lieutenant has an important message for you, Sturmhauptführer .’

‘You can finally deliver the weapons to the SA as promised?’

‘How did you know? So, Scharführer Schäffner had reported it. ’ Rath tried to sound as surprised as possible.

Röllecke smiled arrogantly. ‘The SA has ears everywhere. Is the consignment ready?’

‘The exchange will take place tomorrow evening at eight, Herr Sturmhauptführer ,’ Rath said in a military tone. ‘Report to Ostbahnhof , on the site of the goods depot, platform six. In uniform. You’ll need a few men for transportation, as well as a van.’

‘You don’t have to tell me what to do! Do you think this is the first time I’ve transported arms? I’m well aware I can’t use a pram. The margin is still the same as agreed, yes?’

‘Of course, Herr Sturmhauptführer . And there’s one more thing…’

Röllecke looked at him impatiently. ‘Well?’

‘Please bring the money with you.’

Rath drove back to the Castle, retrieved the oldest files on the Kardakov case from Gennat and took them into his office. That was where the evidence Detective Inspector Gereon Rath had contributed to the investigation one and a half weeks ago had ended up, when he handed it to Böhm. The DCI hadn’t deigned to look at him or the documents, and had simply left them on his desk without touching them. Nevertheless, the documents had found their way into the file, even if they weren’t arranged according to any discernible system. Rath had spent a long time searching for them, and initially feared that Böhm had disposed of them. Then he found what he was looking for. He took the document Tretschkov had given him out of the file and stowed it in his pocket. It would take some time for anyone to notice it was missing as, at the moment, A Division had other concerns.

Rath spent the rest of the day brooding and making calls. Had he really thought of everything? It was such a hastily cobbled together plan. Everything depended on whether Bruno Wolter would bite. There were any number of things that could go wrong, but now that he had set the wheels in motion there was no going back.

Late in the afternoon he finally reached Zörgiebel. The conference must have been taking a break. At any rate, the commissioner was in his hotel.

‘I hope the party conference is proceeding to your satisfaction, Commissioner?’

‘That rather depends on how things are proceeding with you, Inspector!’

‘Tomorrow evening,’ Rath said. ‘It will be settled tomorrow evening. If he comes, then you can send him packing the day after tomorrow, I promise. It’s possible there’ll be more arrests. I might need a few men.’

‘Fine. I’ve spoken to Wündisch. He’s still feeling pretty embarrassed. Section 1A will give you all the people you need. That way, the operation is guaranteed absolute secrecy.’

‘I could use a few armed cops as well.’

‘Let Wündisch take care of all of that. He knows what units can be relied on.’

‘Is he aware of how risky this operation is?’

‘He sent a CID officer into the firing line, and he perished. He has to be prepared to expose his own people to danger too.’

‘It’s not just his people, it’s everyone.’

‘I know how dangerous it is for you too, Herr Rath! I did say you wouldn’t be spared. See the whole thing as making amends. It’ll be alright.’

It had grown colder, and a nasty wind was blowing across the tracks of Ostbahnhof . Bruno Wolter knew the terrain and pressed on. He had already searched for the gold in vain a few weeks ago with Selenskij and Fallin. Instead they had stumbled upon four tank wagons. The delivery from the Soviet Union was how Wilczek described them. He didn’t know what the wagons contained, Marlow hadn’t revealed the secret, even to his own men. The only thing they knew for sure was that it wasn’t rapeseed oil; but then nor could it have been gold, or Berolina would have moved it on and converted it to cash. The fact that they hadn’t meant the great Dr M. was equally puzzled.

Wolter had been surprised when Franz Krajewski got in touch yesterday. If it weren’t for his gun having featured recently, he would have forgotten all about him. He hadn’t been expecting much from him, perhaps a few tip-offs from the porn scene, but nothing major, and had driven to the meeting sceptically, convinced that the man was merely seeking attention. Perhaps he wanted his gun back or to cadge some money. But Krajewski was exceptionally well informed. The porn Kaiser actually had a friend in Berolina . A friend who had pinched his girlfriend, and now Krajewski wanted to land him in it.

After Wilczek’s death, Wolter hadn’t been able to get any more information out of Marlow’s organisation, and that had made things increasingly difficult for him as the weeks wore on. Now, at last, he was back up to date. He had played the innocent yesterday when Krajewski told him that Johann Marlow was no ordinary businessman but the real leader of Berolina. Krajewski didn’t know anything about the gold; he merely said that Marlow was expecting several goods wagons full of weapons at Ostbahnhof . Had Dr M. uncovered the secret of the gold and got hold of the weapons for the Red Fortress ? It sounded almost as if he had.

If he had already sold off the gold, then they’d just have to take the weapons. Marlow and the Reds weren’t entitled to them anyway. Seegers was already waiting impatiently; the majority was earmarked for his people. They had also promised a piece to Röllecke’s SA. The Sturmhauptführer paid good money, and his troops were cut from the same political cloth as Wolter’s.

Be that as it may, Krajewski had talked about their weapons, and now they were going to collect them. There had to be a huge amount to justify an entire goods train.

He had informed Rudi Scheer yesterday, and with Seegers’s help managed to round up enough reliable soldiers, all of them good marksmen. Led by DCI Bruno Wolter, a CID officer from the Prussian police, they would pose as police officers. If the real police couldn’t sound Johann Marlow out, then it would have to be this team of fakes. Wolter knew that Marlow didn’t have much respect for his badge, but he might be more amenable to a handful of armed men. Some of his Stahlhelmers were better shots than the police. No wonder, he had trained them himself.

At the station he had chosen around a dozen men for the operation, all in plain clothes and without so much as their Stahlhelm lapel pins. The vans were now waiting in Friedrichsfelder Strasse and, when the time came, they were to make for the loading ramp.

Bruno marched along the platform, followed by his men. A shunting locomotive chugged past with a few empty cars. A single train was being unloaded. Not much else was going on. A few crows, picking at something indefinable on the ground, fluttered up as the men approached. Marlow’s sheds weren’t far away, but a large goods train blocked their view. Wolter crouched and looked from underneath the wagons. It appeared the tank wagons were still standing on Marlow’s platform. It was time. They began to divide themselves up, Rudi leading the larger group, Wolter the smaller group. Wolter explained the route for a final time and away they marched.

It would be just like a police operation. He had his ID in his pocket, Rudi Scheer likewise. No-one would notice the others were only carrying weapons.