Фолькер Кучер - Goldstein

‘I don’t think it’s funny,’ he said. ‘Until now I’ve played by your rules. If I find out that anything’s happened to her, or you’ve taken me for a ride, then I’ll start playing by mine.’

‘What is this? Are you trying to threaten me with Johann Marlow and your gangster friends? Trust me, they’re on their way out too!’

Rath froze. How did Tornow know about his links to Marlow? Had Red Hugo blabbed?

‘Stop stalling,’ he said, ‘and tell me where she is. Why are you still holding her, damn it?’

‘We’re not.’ Tornow looked indignant. ‘She was released at five o’clock this morning. I did say you’d need to be patient.’ He looked at Rath pityingly. ‘Hasn’t she been in touch?’

‘She isn’t home, that’s all I know.’

‘We didn’t drive her home . She’ll have to find the way to the nearest bus stop herself.’

‘Where is she? Where did you drag her?’

‘ Drag her? She was chauffeured.’

It was unbelievable. Tornow was still smiling.

‘Where?’

Rath felt his anger wrestle against the bonds he had imposed on it.

‘You really mean it, don’t you?’ Tornow made a magnanimous face. ‘Very well, then,’ he said. ‘Onkel Toms Hütte. There’s a toboggan run on the edge of the Grunewald. You should take a look there. Maybe she fell asleep in the middle of a clearing. She’s certainly tired enough.’

Rath couldn’t hold back any longer. He slammed his fist into Tornow’s grin.

Tornow looked at him aghast, leaning forward so that his snow-white shirt wouldn’t be soiled by the blood dripping from his face.

‘You really are an arsehole, Gereon Rath,’ he said, spitting blood. ‘Is that how you thank me?’

‘I’ve thanked you by not hitting you a second time.’

He left Tornow’s flat as quick as he could, slamming the door and running down the stairs until he reached his Buick, where Kirie awaited him, tail wagging.

The road to Zehlendorf had never seemed so long. Half an hour later Rath climbed out of his car on Spandauer Strasse and attached Kirie to her lead. She was looking forward to her walk, although there were a few clouds above. On the other side of the road was a path leading to Onkel Toms Hütte, a restaurant popular with day-trippers that had lent its name to the area as a whole. To the right was the start of the Grunewald. A weathered sign pointed towards the toboggan run, a large clearing in a pine forest located on a precipitous slope. Only a ski jump hinted at its winter use. A few men were walking their dogs.

No sign of Charly. Rath called her name and listened. Nothing.

One of the dog walkers approached, bringing his German shepherd to heel with a sharp, ‘Bismarck, sit!’ Rath looked on in envy.

‘Can I help you?’ The man held his head slightly to one side as he spoke, and the dog did likewise.

‘I’m looking for a woman,’ Rath replied.

‘Here in the wood?’ The man looked up at the hillside. ‘You’d be better served using the lonely hearts in the BZ .’

He laughed and walked on. Rath was too taken aback to think of a humorous response, but the man stopped.

‘Wait a minute,’ he said, ‘I’ve just remembered something. A young lady shuffled through this morning at the crack of dawn. She went past my window as I was getting up. She looked – what’s the word – helpless. Is it her you’re looking for?’

‘Helpless? Yes, could be.’ Charly’s condition sounded graver than he had feared. Perhaps Tornow had been telling the truth, and they had tried to make her talk by depriving her of sleep. ‘Where did you see her?’

‘Riemeisterstrasse. Where I live. Beside the U-Bahn station.’

‘Thank you.’

Rath shooed Kirie, who was upset not to be going further, back to the car, and drove to the estate that GEHAG had conjured out of nothing and, indeed, was still conjuring in places, if the piles of sand and planks outside the houses were anything to go by. Some of them still hadn’t been plastered and very few had mown lawns. On the corner of the road stood pines and beech trees, so high they must have been planted long before building work commenced. Rath parked outside the U-Bahn station. The cafe opposite clearly had airs, labelling itself a Conditorei.

He fetched the dog from the car, and no sooner did he have her on the lead than he felt a tug. Kirie had picked up a scent and was suddenly very animated, holding her nose close to the floor, sniffing intently and pulling Rath towards a modern brick portal that served as the entrance to the U-Bahn.

‘If this is another dead animal!’ Rath said.

Kirie took no notice, but dragged him down the steps to the platform. Rath had to watch he didn’t take a tumble.

She was lying huddled on a bench. Charly in her flowery, summer dress.

The other passengers barely took any notice, and those who did were more disdainful than compassionate. It was her, though. Kirie must have sniffed her from upstairs.

She had made it to the U-Bahn, only to fall asleep while waiting for the next train and the citizens of Berlin, accustomed to going their own way and never interfering, had let her sleep. Not even the noise of the nearby construction site had wakened her, in contrast with Kirie’s tongue.

Charly opened her eyes, just a little at first, then wide with fear as she gazed into the face of the smiling, black dog. She sat up and recognised first Kirie, then Rath, who was standing alongside. She smiled blissfully and wrapped her arms around his legs, on the point of sleep again. ‘I have a ticket,’ she mumbled.

‘We’re taking the car.’ He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘You just have to walk a few metres.’

That proved trickier than anticipated. Rath provided support, and Charly made every effort, but her circulation was so restricted that she had to pause repeatedly, above all when climbing the stairs.

‘Come on,’ Rath said. ‘The car’s just up here, you’re almost there. You made it from the wood to the station!’

‘That was before I fell asleep. Sleeping makes you tired.’

Rath debated whether he should get her a Turkish coffee from the cafe opposite, but decided against. Get her in the car, quick-sharp. He bundled her onto the seat and she was asleep again before he started the engine.

At Spenerstrasse he carried her over the threshold, otherwise he’d have had to leave her sleeping in the car. She lay soft and light in his arms as he bore her up the stairs. The hardest thing was turning the key in the lock, but he managed that too. He kicked the front door shut and carried her into the bedroom, laid her on the bed and undressed her as best he could. As he put the covers over her the doorbell rang. It was just before eleven.

He left Kirie with Charly and went into the hallway, took the Walther from its holster on the hall stand and reloaded. He crept towards the door, keeping close to the wall in case the person outside decided to blast their way in. He placed his hand on the handle and with a jolt, threw the door open, taking aim at the intruder.

A small man looked like he was about to collapse out of fear. Rath lowered his weapon. It took a while for the little man to calm down. ‘Maltritz,’ he said at last. It sounded like an apology. ‘I’m the buildings manager here.’

‘Please excuse me, Herr Maltritz,’ Rath said. ‘But I thought…’

‘What did you think?’

‘There was a break-in here a few days a go, which is why I’m on my guard. I’m a friend of Fräulein Ritter,’ he said, ‘and a police officer.’

He showed his identification, but the little man seemed unimpressed.

‘Where is Fräulein Ritter?’