Фолькер Кучер - Goldstein

‘First I’ve heard of it.’ For a moment there was silence. Kronberg seemed to be thinking. ‘Interesting theory,’ he said. ‘Pretty exotic weapon, but it could fit.’

‘It’s in today’s paper,’ Rath said. ‘Apparently it’s the same weapon as the one used in Humboldthain.’

‘I don’t set much store by these press types but, in this case, they might be right.’

Rath was surprised. Fink’s informant even seemed to be ahead of ED. ‘Have you compared the prints with those of Hugo Lenz or Rudi Höller?’ he asked. ‘They’re on file somewhere, I assume?’

‘Rudi the Rat and Red Hugo? Of course they are, but my guy’s only on F, as far as I know.’

‘You’re doing this alphabetically?’

‘You have to have some kind of system.’ Kronberg sounded a little offended. ‘What makes you think of Lenz and Höller out of everyone?’

‘A tip-off,’ Rath lied. ‘They’re both missing.’

Kronberg burst out laughing. ‘Wouldn’t that be something. Rudi the Rat eaten by his own kind.’ He lowered his voice. ‘I’ll look into it. Thanks for the tip.’

‘Don’t mention it.’

Rath hung up. He was the last in the office and it was time to leave. Looking forward to the evening, he grabbed Kirie’s lead.

Charly’s scent that morning on the pillow had stayed with him all day, and now he wanted more. What a change from the weekend when he had just been getting used to life on his own again.

First he drove to Luisenufer, where he showered and put on a clean suit, before going on his way. This time he gave the flowers a miss, picking up a bottle of champagne instead. True, they still weren’t engaged, but there was reason enough to celebrate… He hadn’t thought they’d make up so quickly, had even doubted for a moment they’d make up at all. Even Kirie seemed happy when she realised they were heading back to Spenerstrasse; no sooner had Rath opened the car door than she leapt onto the street and started wagging her tail.

‘That’s right, my friend,’ Rath said. ‘You’ll be seeing mistress again soon.’

He checked himself and Kirie in the display window of the general store. They were looking good! He straightened his tie, made a minor adjustment to his hat, and went inside, whistling as he climbed the steps.

It took a long time for anyone to open, and a strange feeling came over him once more. But then: no grinning man, no nasty surprise. Charly opened it herself.

‘Gereon!’

She looked a little flummoxed. More than he’d been expecting, anyway. He’d tried to reach her a few times at home, without success. No wonder, he thought, if he was on leave, he wouldn’t spend the day at home either. But then he would have been looking forward to seeing her even more.

‘Surprise,’ he said, superfluously. Kirie waggled her tail.

‘What are you two doing here?’ Charly bent down and ran her fingers through Kirie’s black fur. ‘This really is a surprise.’

‘Don’t you say hello to people?’

She looked around, and, seeing no one, gave him a kiss, but remained in the door as if guarding a temple.

‘Aren’t you going to invite us in? That way you wouldn’t have to worry about old Brettschneider having a heart attack seeing us out here.’

Charly appeared contrite. ‘I’d love to but right now, I can’t.’

‘Why not?’ Rath realised that, once again, his surprise tactic hadn’t worked.

‘I have a visitor.’

He must have pulled a pretty idiotic face. She laughed. ‘Don’t worry! It isn’t Guido! It isn’t a man at all.’

‘So why all the secrecy?’

‘It’s – I’ll explain some other time.’

‘I wanted to surprise you. I’ve been trying to reach you all day.’

‘I had a lot on my plate. Listen, I’ll tell you everything tomorrow, OK? I really can’t now.’ She looked at him almost ruefully. ‘I’m sorry, Gereon. We’ll talk on the telephone, OK?’

The bathroom door opened and a girl emerged wrapped in Charly’s red dressing gown, hair still wet. She turned around briefly and gazed at him through suspicious eyes before disappearing inside the kitchen. Rath put her at eighteen or nineteen, maximum. Her upper lip was swollen on the right-hand side.

He didn’t need to ask who it was.

‘Well, then,’ he said, lifting the bottle. ‘I suppose Kirie and I will just have to drink this alone.’

‘Oh, Gereon,’ she said, full of regret now. ‘Don’t be annoyed.’

He forced a smile and hoped it didn’t look too contrived. ‘I couldn’t have stayed long anyway. I have to sleep at Luisenufer tonight. Tomorrow I’ll need my black suit.’

‘Do you have to go to a funeral?’ She sounded horrified. There hadn’t been much talk yesterday…

Rath nodded. ‘Maybe even two.’

Alex was sitting in the kitchen, wrapped in a warm dressing gown and blowing on a cup of tea. ‘Who was that?’ she asked.

‘Just a friend.’ Charly sat down. ‘Feeling better after your shower?’

‘I don’t know if I’ll ever feel clean again.’ The cup jangled as she returned it to the saucer. ‘Kralle, the stupid arsehole! I hope he croaks.’

‘Then your friend would have a human life on his conscience.’

Alex pulled the dressing gown tighter. She looked as if she wanted to crawl inside it. ‘The man you were speaking to on the telephone just now,’ she asked. ‘Was he a cop?’ She sounded tentative, uncertain, wondering whether she could really trust Charly.

‘Yes, it was a cop, but a nice one.’

Alex gave a wry grin. ‘I didn’t know there was such a thing.’

Charly smiled back. She didn’t want to say that the man at the door was also a cop. She didn’t want to destroy Alex’s already fragile trust. ‘Don’t worry. I promised you no police.’

She couldn’t help remembering how anxious Alex had been when she mentioned the word police at the old tannery. ‘No cops,’ she had said, turning white as a sheet, ‘please, no cops.’

‘But… do you want that bastard to get away with this? He raped you.’

‘Please, no cops…’

Ultimately, Charly contented herself with sending for an ambulance so that Ralf Krahl, nicknamed Kralle, could receive medical attention. Perhaps the injury would be a lesson to him, more than a court appearance on charges of rape and grievous bodily harm.

The fact that Charly had kept the police out of it, as well as letting Erich Rambow go, had helped. The only reason Alex had come back to the flat, along with her friend Vicky, whom they had met on Eldenaer Strasse, was that the two girls had nowhere else to go. Erich Rambow, who had recovered his bike from Forckenbeckplatz, was in no position to offer them a place to stay, so Vicky now lay in Greta’s bed, asleep. Alex had dark circles under her eyes, but was holding out better than her friend.

‘Why are you doing all this?’ she had asked in the taxi.

‘What do you mean, all this ?’

‘Helping us. Keeping the cops out of things. Why are you so stubborn? Is it because I got away from you?’

‘I just wanted to find you.’

‘Why?’

‘Perhaps I can help you. I think you have problems with the police.’

‘That’s hardly news.’

Charly placed a finger to her lips and glanced over at the taxi driver, but he kept his eyes on the traffic ahead.

‘That’s not what I mean. You saw Benny plunge to his death. You saw a police officer push him.’

Alex looked at her wide-eyed. Disbelieving, yet relieved at the same time.

By the time they arrived in Moabit, Charly knew the whole story. They had to shake Vicky awake and bundle her upstairs into the flat, but Alex told her everything. She and Lange had figured most of it out long ago, but the information about Benny’s fall was new.