Joseph Kanon - A Good German

“It’ll sort itself out.”

“The young,” Brian said, sighing. “Not in my experience.”

It took Jake ten minutes to dress, his stiff arms fumbling with the buttons, even tying his shoes a small agony.

“You’re going out?” Lena said, looking up from the table where she and Erich were leafing through a magazine rescued from one of the girls. Life, pictures from another world. Emil sat on the couch, his face vacant, lost in himself.

“I won’t be long,” Jake said, starting toward her to kiss her goodbye, then stopping, even the most ordinary gesture somehow awkward now. Instead he rubbed Erich’s head.

“Rosen said to rest,” Lena said.

“I’m all right,” Jake said, feeling Emil watching him so that, like an intruder, he wanted to hurry out, away from them. “Don’t wait up,” he said to Erich, but taking them all in. Only Erich moved, giving him a little wave.

The street was a relief, the comforting anonymity of the dark. A soldier in a jeep. He drove out toward Kreuzberg, not even noticing the ruins. Even Berlin could become normal, a question of what you were used to.

He found Gunther playing solitaire, a half-full bottle on the table beside him, methodically laying out rows of cards like his columns of obvious points.

“A surprise visit,” Gunther said, not sounding surprised at all, barely looking up from the cards.

“I thought I’d bring you up to date,” Jake said, sitting down.

Gunther grunted, continuing to lay out cards as Jake told him about the Adlon, not even pausing when bullets hit the Chancellery steps.

“So once again you’re lucky,” he said when Jake finished. “And we still don’t know.”

“That’s why I’ve come. I have an assignment for you.”

“Leave me alone,” he said, turning over a card. Then he looked up. “What?”

“I want you to go to a funeral tomorrow.”

“Sikorsky’s?”

“A friend. Naturally you’d want to go.”

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“And pay your respects to his successor. I assume his number two-they haven’t had time to bring anyone in yet. Maybe his boss. Either way, whoever’s Sikorsky now. It’s good business, for one thing.” He glanced at the stacks of black market boxes.

“And the other?”

“New business.”

“With me,” Gunther said, raising an eyebrow.

“You have to think of it from his point of view-what he knows or what he’s been told. They must have grilled the Russians at the Adlon. What he knows is that Sikorsky saw us there-Lena and me-and let us pay a visit. He knows Brandt escaped and Sikorsky was killed chasing him. He knows the Americans don’t have him-Tully’s partner would have told him. So where is he? The logical place?”

Gunther made a questioning sound, still playing.

“Where he’s always wanted to be-with his wife. Who came with me. And I’m a friend of yours. And you-you kept tabs on me for Sikorsky,” Jake said, slapping the words down in order, jack, ten, nine. “His source.”

Gunther stopped. “I told him nothing. Nothing important.”

“So he said. The point is, they know he got it from you. They know you know me. They might even think you know where I am. Which means—”

“An interesting situation, I agree,” Gunther said, turning a card slowly. “But I don’t know where you are. I have never wanted to know that, if you remember. To be in this position.”

“If they believe that. Maybe they don’t think you’re so high-minded. Maybe they just think you’re a rat.”

Gunther glanced up, then went back to his cards. “Are you trying to provoke me? Don’t bother.”

“I’m trying to show you how he’ll see things. When you talk to him tomorrow.”

“And what do you want me to say?”

“I want you to betray me.”

Gunther put down the cards, reached for his glass, and sat back, looking at Jake over the rim. “Go on.”

“It’s time to move up in the world. Cigarettes, watches, a little bar gossip-there’s no real money in that. But even a small-time crook gets a chance once in a while. Something big to sell. Sometimes it falls right into your lap.”

“I take it Herr Brandt is that opportunity.”

Jake nodded. “I came to you to get some travel permits. To get the happy couple out of town.”

“And I would have these?”

“They’re on the market. You’re in the market. They’ll think you could. But now you’ve got a situation. You want to keep your options open. Your friend Sikorsky is gone-why not make some new friends, and a bundle on the side? Hard to resist.”

“Very.”

“So you arrange to meet us, with the permits. If someone else shows up instead—”

“Where?” Gunther said, oddly precise.

“I don’t know yet,” Jake said, brushing it aside. “But in the American zone. That’s important. They need to send an American. If they’re Russians, I’ll smell a setup right away. It has to be an American, so I won’t suspect until it’s too late.”

“And they’ll send him, your American.”

“He’s the obvious person. He knows who I am. And he’ll want to come. I’ve put the word out that I’m on to something. He can’t take that chance. He’ll come.”

“And then he will have you.”

“I’ll have him. All you have to do is lead him to me.”

“Be your greifer,” Gunther said, his voice low.

“It can work.”

Gunther moved his eyes back to the cards and began to play again. “A pity you weren’t on the force, before the war. Sometimes the bold move—”

“It can work,” Jake said again.

Gunther nodded. “Except for one thing. I have no quarrel with the Russians. As you say, I want to keep my options open. If you succeed, where am I? With no options. The Russians will know I betrayed them. Get someone else.”

“There isn’t anyone else. They’ll believe you. It’s your case too.”

“No, yours. It was interesting to help you, a way to pass the time. Now it’s something else. I don’t make myself conspicuous. Not now.”

Jake looked at him. “That’s right. You never did.”

“That’s right,” Gunther said, refusing to be drawn.

Jake reached over and placed his hand on the cards, stopping the play.

“Move your hand.”

Jake held it there for another minute, staring at him.

“Leave me alone.”

“How long do you intend to stay dead? Years? That’s a lot of time to pass with your head down. You’re still a cop. We’re talking about murder.”

“No, survival.”

“Like this? You tried that once. A good German cop. So you kept your head down and people died. Now you want to stick it down a bottle. For what? A chance to snitch for the Russians? You’d be working for the same people. You think it’ll be any different?” He pushed his chair away, frustrated, and walked over to the wall map. Berlin as it used to be.

Gunther sat stonily for a second, then laid down another card, almost a reflex.

“And the Americans are so much better?”

“Maybe not by much,” Jake said, his eyes moving left, toward Dahlem. “But that’s who’s here. That’s the choice.” He turned from the map. “You have a choice.”

“To work for the Americans.”

“No, to be a cop again. A real one.”

Neither of them said anything for a minute, so when the door rattled with a sharp knock, it seemed even louder in the thick silence. Jake looked up, alarmed, expecting Russians, but it was Bernie, pushing through the door with folders under his arm just as he had that first night at Gelferstrasse, running into a plate. Now it was the sight of Jake that stopped him in mid-dash.

“Where have you been? People are looking for you, you know.”