Фолькер Кучер - Goldstein

The lift door opened with a soft pling . An elegant lady, who had linked arms with a smallish man, glanced at his desk curiously as she passed. Rath gazed after her; any distraction was welcome, especially one with such a nice rear end. The sound of someone clearing his throat made him spin around. Next to him stood the hotel detective, who must also have emerged from the lift.

‘Good morning,’ Rath said, and stood up.

Grunert gave a sour smile and shook his hand. ‘Our conversation yesterday was interrupted,’ he said. ‘I looked for you in the lobby, but your colleagues said you were up here.’

Rath nodded. ‘It’s the best view of room 301.’

‘If not exactly inconspicuous.’

‘It isn’t about being inconspicuous, it’s about being effective.’

Grunert smiled his pickled smile. ‘I would be most grateful if you finally explained why you are here.’

‘You’re aware that any information I do give must remain between us, and is subject to the utmost discretion?’

Grunert nodded.

‘Good. The matter is quite simple: Abraham Goldstein, your esteemed guest, is strongly suspected of being a member of an American criminal cartel, and for this reason has been placed under surveillance by the Prussian Police. We don’t want Berlin turning into Chicago, do we?’

Rath had hoped to lighten the mood a little with his final remark, but Grunert continued to look as though he had a bad stomach ulcer. Perhaps he did, too.

‘And what is this… strong suspicion based on?’

‘You’ll understand that I can’t tell you that. It’s confidential CID material.’

‘I just hope your suspicions aren’t based purely on the fact that Mister Goldstein is of Mosaic faith.’

‘Rest assured,’ Rath said. ‘The order to place Mister Goldstein under surveillance comes from Deputy Commissioner Weiss himself.’

Grunert gave a satisfied nod. Accusing Bernhard Weiss of anti-Semitism would be laughable.

They took such things seriously in the Excelsior . The hotel was thought to have once ejected Adolf Hitler out of consideration for its Jewish guests who, it was said, could not be expected to share the same roof as such a crude anti-Semite.

‘Inspector, we have no objection to your monitoring Mister Goldstein, although I doubt your suspicions are warranted. Nevertheless, while I fully understand the need for this operation, I must also ask for your discretion…’

‘Of course.’

‘…and viewed in such light, your surveillance post is a little too conspicuous. At least for the remainder of our paying guests, who must be asking themselves why you need to spend the entire day seated at this desk.’

‘We’ll have to give them a story then. I certainly don’t intend on leaving my post for the sake of a few guests.’

‘A story,’ said Grunert. ‘Exactly what I was going to suggest. I’ll have a few books brought to you from the library, along with a pen and paper. You’ll be an author staying at our hotel, drawing inspiration from his surroundings…’

‘An author?’ Rath looked sceptical. ‘Who’s going to believe that?’

‘I’ll put the rumour about in the lobby, and soon the whole hotel will know. Old Teubner can be relied on there.’

‘I don’t know the first thing about writing. I hunt criminals!’

‘Then you’re a crime writer. That fits. And your new novel is set in our hotel.’

When Reinhold Gräf exited the lift half an hour later, accompanied by a black dog wagging its tail, he was a little taken aback by the pile of books and notepad.

‘Are you keeping a record of everyone who emerges from the lift, or just copying the wallpaper pattern?’

‘Don’t you see? I’m a famous author, setting down his latest work. Incognito, naturally.’

Gräf glanced over Rath’s shoulder. ‘Looks more like wall-paper to me.’

The only things on the page were stick men and abstract patterns.

‘I’m seeking inspiration,’ said Rath. ‘How did it go outside?’

‘Kirie was a good girl and did a wee-wee, if that’s what you mean. And Goldstein hasn’t tried to climb down the façade, though I did see him at the window, I think. I’m not sure he recognised me though. What about you? Has our friend put in an appearance?’

Rath shook his head. ‘So far just the hotel detective. This was his brainwave. But Goldstein must be awake; he let in the chambermaid.’

‘Has he had breakfast?’

‘He’s had the chambermaid. Nothing’s been brought to his room otherwise.’

As if on cue, the door to room 301 opened and the chambermaid emerged, throwing the two officers a brief glance and vanishing into the corridor. No sooner had she disappeared than the lift doors parted and the room service waiter rolled out a trolley, which he then wheeled into room 301.

‘Maybe he really did have the chambermaid for breakfast,’ Gräf whispered.

Rath shrugged. ‘He’s certainly enjoying himself.’ He looked at Gräf. ‘You shouldn’t stand here the whole time. People will think you’re my secretary. Leave the dog here and go and stretch your legs. Keep the hotel front in view. The last thing we need is for Goldstein to start climbing hand-over-hand across the balconies.’

Gräf nodded. ‘When should I relieve you?’

‘Let’s say at one. I’ll need to go walkies with Kirie then anyway.’

The detective had been gone perhaps quarter of an hour when Abraham Goldstein appeared in the doorframe of room 301 and carefully locked up. He hesitated when he saw Rath sitting at the desk, then burst out laughing.

‘Good morning, Detective, have you transferred offices?’

‘To be close to you,’ Rath said, snapping shut his notepad of doodles. ‘Sleep well?’

‘Very well, thank you.’ Goldstein pressed the button for the lift. ‘Looks like it’s going to be a nice day. Shall we then? I say we , since I assume you’ll be joining me.’

Rath grabbed the dog lead.

‘Police dog?’ Goldstein asked, gesturing towards Kirie.

The lift door opened and both men stepped in.

‘More dangerous than she looks,’ Rath said. ‘Trained to go for New Yorkers.’

‘Didn’t I say I was from Brooklyn?’

‘The dog doesn’t care.’

A lady inside looked the pair up and down; the lift boy gazed stoically into the distance.

‘What’s the latest on your car?’ Goldstein asked. ‘Repaired already?’

That hit home. Rath swallowed his rage and fell silent. Don’t let the arsehole provoke you.

‘Ground floor,’ said the boy and opened the door for the woman passenger. Rath and Goldstein continued down to the basement, where Goldstein made a beeline for the tunnel.

‘What have you got against daylight?’ Rath asked.

‘I prefer the underworld.’

Kirie, however, was not so keen, and Rath had to pull on her lead to keep up. Only when they began climbing the stairs, back up towards the daylight, did her pace quicken.

Goldstein headed for the taxi stand.

‘I hope you won’t mind if I don’t invite you to travel with me,’ Goldstein said as he waved over the first taxi from the rank. ‘That would be breaking the rules.’

Rath took the second taxi, the driver reluctantly interrupting his reading of the paper.

‘Where to, then?’ he asked, as Rath manoeuvred the dog onto the back seat with some difficulty. Kirie had never willingly got into a car yet.

‘Follow that taxi,’ Rath said.

‘Seriously?’ The driver gazed disbelievingly into the rear mirror.

‘Do I look like I’m kidding?’ Rath showed his identification.

‘Alright, alright.’

At the same moment, Goldstein’s taxi moved from the verge onto the carriageway, and Rath’s driver accelerated. The inspector looked to the side, towards the pavement, where a baggage handler was struggling with several large items. At the last second he saw a familiar-looking coat. Shit! The Yank! Goldstein had either never got in or had got out straightaway! At any rate, he had sent the taxi on its way without a passenger.