Фолькер Кучер - Goldstein

Rath switched off the torch, and Charly gazed into the night sky. She seemed to go by the moon, or perhaps the stars. Either way they were soon on the right path, though it still took them half an hour to reach the car. They found themselves in marshy terrain along the way, a detour that left Rath with only one shoe. All their searching with the torch, temporarily switched back on, proved futile; the marsh had swallowed the shoe and wasn’t about to give it back.

Rath sat with the car door open and wrung out his socks. Charly’s feet didn’t look much better, but at least she still had both shoes. They couldn’t wring out Kirie’s wet paws. The dog made a huge mess of the car and Charly’s coat when she placed her head on her lap. Rath stuffed his socks and shoe into the footwell and started the engine.

‘Can you drive without shoes?’ Charly asked.

‘ Mit bläcke Fööß jeht alles. You can do anything barefoot.’

They jolted slowly across Köpenicker Landstrasse back into town. Naturally the Hanomag didn’t make the journey without letting them down, this time at Schlesisicher Tor, right in the heart of the city. Passersby looked on with a mixture of interest and amusement as a barefooted but otherwise impeccably dressed man climbed out of the car, opened the bonnet, fixed something, closed the bonnet, got back inside and started the engine.

Charly grinned when he reclaimed his place alongside her.

‘Sorry,’ he growled, putting the car in gear. ‘Normally I’d have a replacement pair of shoes.’

Charly’s grin disappeared. ‘What’s the matter with you?’

‘What’s the matter? Only that we haven’t made any progress. Unless you count wet feet, dirty clothes and a missing shoe. Oh, and a few hours’ less sleep.’

‘So what? I’ll sleep at the end of the month. Isn’t that what you always say?’

‘We could have had a nice evening at home with a bottle of red wine, instead of wasting our time out here.’

‘Wasting our time?’ Charly feigned indignation. ‘Please! I’ve never been more emphatically warned about the dangers of social democracy.’

‘True. The rubbish that Reinhold and his comrades were spouting makes more sense than anything else this evening!’ He looked at her. ‘Now, won’t you please admit that this was a crackpot idea.’

Charly said nothing, as he observed her out of the corner of his eye. When her features became hard like that, it was better to seek cover. She needed almost a minute to compose herself.

‘What is this?’ she said, her voice as chilly as it had been in a long time. ‘Are you really just upset about your stupid shoe? Or do you regret helping me with my crackpot idea?’

‘That’s not how I meant it!’

‘Then how did you mean it?’

‘You have to admit I’m right: we should have given this to Warrants right away.’

‘But that’s exactly what I don’t want. Can’t you understand that? I want to find Alex before Warrants do!’

‘Why? It’s no longer your concern. You’ve made good on your error, now let other people take care of the rest.’

‘Why don’t you understand? She saw her friend plunge to his death . She’s terrified of blue uniforms. Something happened up there.’

‘It’ll all come out when Warrants bring her in.’

‘I can’t shake the feeling that’s exactly when something terrible will happen.’

Rath looked at her in disbelief. ‘Have you been reading tea leaves again?’

‘You’re such an ignoramus!’

‘I’m just realistic. I’m starting to feel you’re getting carried away by all this. You’re not her mother. Believe me, she’s a shrewd customer. She doesn’t need your help.’

Charly fell silent, but it was a baleful silence.

The lights of night-time Berlin flitted past. Only when they were labouring through the construction site bottleneck on Jannowitz Bridge did she open her mouth again.

‘Pull over there,’ she said.

‘Pardon me?’

‘Let me out past the bridge.’

‘What’s the matter?’ Rath switched on the indicator and did as bidden. He turned the engine off.

‘Nothing’s the matter. I just can’t talk to you about this. You’re not taking me seriously, and I can’t stomach it right now. I want to be alone!’

Rath sighed. ‘Charly, of course I’m taking you seriously. But you’re a lawyer, not a Samaritan.’

‘If you don’t want to help, I’ll do it myself. Now, please let me out.’

Rath could see from her face that she meant it. She had put her wet shoes back on. He opened the door and climbed out of her way. Kirie was surprised to find herself placed on the wooden seat, only to watch both master and mistress exit the vehicle.

‘If that’s really what you want,’ Rath said, suddenly realising how furious he was. ‘Then it’s the perfect end to a lousy evening!’

‘Just what I was thinking,’ she said, buttoning her coat. ‘At last we agree on something.’

‘Can I at least drive you to Spenerstrasse?’

‘No, thank you. I’ll take the S-Bahn.’

She hesitated a moment before heading to the station, and he didn’t know whether to give her a goodbye kiss or not. While he was still umming and ahhing, she made up her mind. ‘Good night, Gereon,’ she said.

That was something, at least, but her back was already turned by the time she said it. She pressed her handbag in front of her chest and moved quickly towards the S-Bahn station. It, too, was a massive construction site, like so much in this city.

Rath stayed where he was but gazed after her. It all seemed unreal. He wanted to chase after her, but pride paralysed him. Let her go! Hopefully she’d miss her train. Someone as pig-headed as Charlotte Ritter had to suffer the consequences.

Kirie gave a bark. The dog didn’t seem to understand what was happening either.

Rath slid across the wooden seat towards her. ‘Looks like we’re back in Luisenufer for the time being. Alone.’

It wasn’t far to his flat from Jannowitz Bridge, and the Hanomag made it without breaking down again. He couldn’t help thinking of Charly as he drove, the way she disappeared inside the train station and how he had stared after her, unable to move. He should have shouted something: ‘Please don’t go!’ or ‘Piss off then!’

Either would have been honest.

What was wrong with her? What was wrong with them? It wasn’t just tonight that had been ruined; it was the last few weeks, ever since Cologne. Yes, things had gone badly there, but not badly enough to poison the atmosphere for weeks on end.

At Luisenufer he stayed in the car, staring through the windscreen into the night. That stubborn, fucking woman! He slammed his fist against the steering wheel, so hard that Kirie, who was crouched quietly on the passenger seat, gave a start.

He got out and took the dog by the lead, getting rid of his solitary, wet shoe in one of the metal rubbish bins. The clatter of the lid echoed in the inner courtyard. He climbed the steps quietly, bare feet sticking to the wood. In the rear building all was still; he didn’t seem to have wakened anyone. He was all the more startled, therefore, when the telephone rang as he opened the door.

Could it be Charly hoping to make peace? Admitting what a stupid quarrel it had been? His mood brightened immediately. Leaving Kirie in the kitchen he hung up his coat, pitter-pattered over the cold floor to the telephone, and took up position on the warm living room carpet. He let it ring one more time before picking up.

‘OK, you’re right. It wasn’t a crackpot idea,’ he said, charmingly. ‘Can I still come over?’

‘That won’t be necessary.’ It was Johann Marlow.

‘Do you realise what time it is? Most people are asleep.’