Joseph Kanon - Leaving Berlin

Dieter met him at the hospital lot.

“Where’s Campbell?”

“In there.” He pointed to the trunk.

Dieter looked up. “You?”

“Why would you think that.”

“I started going over things. After you left. Who else knew you were taking Erich to RIAS?”

“Only you. And Campbell.”

Dieter took this in, then nodded. “What are you going to do with him?”

“Take him back to BOB. I couldn’t just leave him in the street. After the ambush. You don’t desert somebody when he saves your life. Takes a bullet for you.”

“Ah.”

“He died for the Agency. Who’s to say otherwise? The Russians? They get quiet, times like this.”

Dieter looked at him, a smile at the corner of his mouth. “Amateur,” he said. “It’s lucky I was there. So you have a witness.”

Alex looked at him, a conversation in a glance. “Yes, lucky.”

“And did you find out? Whether he told them about me?”

“No. Sorry.”

“Well, but the odds are yes. And who risks his life for odds. You’re going out to Dahlem?”

“You want a lift? Markus may be arriving later.”

Dieter raised his eyebrows.

“I’ll tell you in the car. But I have one more thing,” he said, glancing toward the hospital. “I won’t be long.”

“I’ll wait for you on the other side. By the Gate. You don’t want to risk a border check with a body in the trunk.”

“But you risk it.”

Dieter shrugged. “And what do you want to do about Markovsky?”

“Can you get Gunther to bury him as Max Mustermann? The Russians love a mystery. Let’s give them one.”

“He won’t like that.”

“Nobody will ever know. Except you and me.”

Dieter looked at him. “And whoever killed him.”

“That’s right. And whoever killed him.”

“Another mystery,” Dieter said. “You ought to stay in this work. You have the nerves for it.”

“What, and work with you?”

“They’re all amateurs out in Dahlem. New to it. The Russians aren’t amateurs. For this one thing, they have a genius.” He paused. “You could be useful. I’d help you. You’re in this now.”

“I’m not in anything.”

“No?” Dieter said, glancing at the trunk. “Once you start, you know, it’s hard to turn your back. No one else understands how it is, what we have to do, unless they’re part of it too. It’s important work. You could be valuable.”

“Is this what BOB said to you?”

Dieter smiled. “No, I was easier. They got me for a letter. To wash my sins away. ‘A Nazi of convenience,’ that’s the phrase they used.”

“Were you?”

Dieter shrugged. “Everyone on the force. Now an Ami of convenience. You do what you have to do. Terrible things sometimes,” he said, looking toward the trunk again, then back at Alex. “You try to keep a piece of yourself. Something they can’t get. And then it’s over and you think, my God, I did that. I was part of it. So in the end what did you keep? And now,” he said, extending his hand to take in the car, the city beyond. “A new side. More things we don’t talk about. You think you don’t pay, but-you carry it with you.” He looked over. “If you go on with this work, keep something for yourself. Not just a piece. Otherwise they’ll take it all. And then you’re not good for anything else.”

Alex felt cold on the back of his neck.

“Well, my friend, better hurry,” Dieter said. “You still have a body to explain.”

Irene was sitting up, wearing a pink bed jacket, frilly, with girlish silk ribbons. She giggled at his expression.

“Elsbeth’s,” she said. “She dresses like a doll. So, finally. That strange man before. ‘Don’t leave the hospital.’ Why? ‘Wait for Alex.’ So now we can go?”

“Are you all right?”

“This?” she said, touching a white head bandage. “It’s better, I think. Gustav says I should rest a few days, but I could do that in Marienstrasse, no?”

“You could also go to Elsbeth. Then Erich. I can still get you a plane out.”

“Oh, again with that.”

“It would be better for you.”

“What’s wrong? Your face. They found him, Sasha?”

“No. They’re not going to. I’m taking care of it. You’ll never have to worry about that. It’s safe. It would just be better in the West, that’s all. Easier.”

“What do you mean, you’re taking care of it?”

“I don’t have time to explain. It never happened. You don’t know anything. You never did. Okay?”

“And Elsbeth’s name?”

“Just a precaution. If they checked the hospitals. After the accident. And your name popped up-”

“The accident.”

“That’s what they’re calling it. You don’t know anything about that either.”

He waited for a moment.

“I’m going to be on the radio tomorrow.”

“Like Erich?”

“Yes. Just like Erich. So I have to leave. I’ve come to say good-bye.”

“Good-bye?” she said faintly, almost dazed. “You’re leaving? Where? Frankfurt?”

“No, I’m going back.”

“Back where? You can’t go back.”

“I can now. I made an arrangement.”

“Clever Alex,” she said. “Always-” She looked up. “You mean you’re leaving me.”

“I have a child. I don’t want him to grow up without me. That’s all that matters now.”

“That’s all? Not us?”

He sat on the bed, putting a hand up to her face. “Us. There is no us. It was just an idea you had.”

“I don’t believe you. It’s not the child. It’s something else.”

“No, it’s him. It’s what I came to Berlin for-to go back.”

“What does that mean? You’re not making sense.”

“I know. Never mind. I have to go. I can’t stay in Berlin.”

“But why?” she said, her voice rising, a kind of wail. “You never said-”

“The people who were following us last night were following me. Not you. You’re safe, but I’m not. I have to go.”

“But what about me? What will I do?”

“Go to Elsbeth.”

“Oh, Elsbeth. This stupid jacket,” she said, taking it off. “You’re leaving me and I’m in this ridiculous jacket. In bed. No,” she said, getting out. “I can stand. Tell me standing up. This is what you came to say? You’re leaving me? I thought you loved me.”

“I do,” he said softly. “But I can see you better now. All of you. Erich. Elsbeth. You. Before I just saw what I wanted to see.”

“Oh,” she said, flailing, clutching the bed jacket. “See me better. What does Erich have to do with anything? Elsbeth. I don’t understand-”

“Can I ask you a question?”

“What question?” she said, distracted, a kind of pout.

“When you told them things, did you tell them about me?”

“What?”

“It’s important to me. To know. I don’t blame you. I just want to know.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You should have gone with Erich. And I should have known then. You weren’t scared enough. You should have been. I was. But you weren’t afraid to stay. I thought it was the usual von Bernuth foolishness. Nothing can touch us. But it wasn’t just that. You still felt protected. Even with Sasha gone. Did it start with him? Or before? Of course, he wouldn’t just sleep with you. He’d ask you things. Nothing special. DEFA, probably. Did you report on DEFA? Tell them what people were saying? Fritsch? Which doesn’t matter much, until somebody doesn’t turn up for work.”

“Stop this,” she said, shoulders back now, standing still.

“And then I came. Somebody from the West. They’d want to know everything. What I did, what I said. And you were in such a good position to help. Maybe that’s what Leon was doing the night I came to the flat. Just getting a report. Be nice to think that’s all it was since we’d just- But probably one thing led to another. You’d want to keep the DEFA job safe. With Sasha gone. And once you start something like this, they never go away. There’s always somebody.”