Pierre Frei - Berlin - A Novel

'Oh, not too bad. Can't complain.' He got behind the wheel.

She pushed the glass partition aside. 'Well, at least you're not exposed to the elements now.' He swallowed, as if he wanted to say something. Anything wrong?' she encouraged him.

'Don't know.' He started the car.

'Oh, come on. We've known each other long enough.'

'You mustn't be angry.'

'How could anyone be angry with you, Herr Giese?'

He seemed to be concentrating hard on the road ahead. Then he came out with it. 'I've got an apartment in Schoneberg. All nice and neat. Would you visit me there some time? I'll pay. Just like Herr Eulenfels.'

'But I'm extremely expensive. Can't do it under a hundred and fifty,' she said, lapsing into her old Berlin accent as she tried to put him off.

He pulled over and stopped the car. Face grave, he counted sixteen notes out of his wallet. He handed the banknotes to her in the back of the car. A hundred and fifty marks. And ten extra for the taxi. What about Sunday evening? Here's my address.' He gave her a piece of paper.

Fredie was never home before one on a Sunday. 'Comradeship evening,' he told her. Marlene had no idea what that meant.

'Sunday evening. Yes, all right.' She put the money and the piece of paper in her handbag.

At Nollendorffplatz he turned round. 'It'll take us a bit longer today. They closed off Unter den Linden and the Government area for the torchlight procession. It's for the new Reich Chancellor.'

Marlene wasn't interested in Reich Chancellors. She looked at Giese's back, the stiff white collar, the grey cloth of the chauffeur's uniform, on which the neon signs cast patches of coloured light as they passed by. She saw his face in the mirror. No different from the others after all, she thought.

After midnight she was another two hundred marks richer. She had drunk a little too much of Eulenfels's 1926 Ruinart Pere & Fils, and on the way home sang a selection from the Comedian Harmonists.

Fredie went through her handbag as usual. 'Three hundred and sixty? Did something special for Herr Eulenfels, did you?' She was too tipsy to answer.

At nine in the morning she went out to buy breakfast rolls. There was a lively discussion going on at the baker's. The man's right. He's not letting those foreigners intimidate him. You wait and see, he'll soon see off that disgraceful Treaty of Versailles.' Korff a retired teacher who lived next door, looked triumphantly around the room.

'Yes, and you just wait — Herr Hitler will soon be locking up everyone whose nose he doesn't care for, like mine,' said the man next to him, Louis Silberstein, flautist in the philharmonic. You can read all about it in his ghastly tome Mein Kampf. I'm moving to Weingartner at the Vienna Opera. Small white loaf, please.'

'He wants to send Hindenburg into well-earned retirement and bring the Kaiser back,' said the baker's wife knowledgeably. 'Well, we'll be getting the right people to lead us at last.'

'You mean those aristocratic idiots with their von and zu titles?' mocked Anita Kolbe, a sculptress who lived in Westendallee. 'Heads like wood all the way through. It comes from all those family trees.'

'Four white rolls, please,' Marlene interrupted the artist.

Back at the apartment, a young man and an older man, both in coat and hat, were waiting for her. 'Superintendent Eggebrecht and Officer Meiser,' the older man introduced them.

'These gentlemen are from the Vice Squad,' Fredie explained with derision. He was in his dressing gown, drying his hair, and appeared more annoyed than anxious. There seemed to be no immediate danger.

The superintendent cleared his throat. 'You are Marlene Kaschke, the tenant of this apartment?'

And you are a lout!' Marlene retorted. 'Kindly take your hat off. What do you want?'

Eggebrecht actually did take his hat off. Another tenant in this building has laid a complaint against you for your immoral way of life.'

And you believe such nonsense? Well, I'm going to make breakfast. Would you like a cup of coffee?'

She made for the kitchen, but Meiser roughly grabbed her wrist. 'You'll stay in here and answer our questions.'

She placed a sharply pointed heel on his left foot and turned it slowly back and forth. Meiser screamed. 'Behave yourself, you boor,' she said defiantly. Furious, the officer took let go of her.

'Leave it out, Meiser,' said the superintendent, calming him.

And just who are you?' Meiser jabbed Fredie in the ribs with two fingers at each word.

Alfred Neubert, Fraulein Kaschke's fiance. You have no right to burst in here like this. Or do you have a search warrant?'

'Don't get fresh with me, kid.' Meiser jabbed him in the ribs again.

The superintendent remained courteous. 'Fraulein Kaschke, witnesses have noticed a great many gentlemen visiting you.'

'Oh yes? And what sort of witnesses might those be?'

A man named Ebel on the third floor,' Meiser told her. A bookkeeper with an excellent reputation. He has no reason to lie.'

And moreover, you are often collected from this building by luxury automobiles or taxis,' Superintendent Eggebrecht continued. 'To visit clients, I assume.'

'You assume quite correctly,' said Fredie, his voice calm. As a secretary with a good knowledge of foreign languages, my fiancee naturally works outside her home now and then.'

'This pimp's trying to pull a fast one on us!' cried Meiser.

'I can refer you to the Prussian Interior Ministry,' said Fredie coldly. As a senior civil servant in that ministry, Dr Noack does not, of course, have to give information to a snotty-nosed little cop like you. But he will be happy to confirm to the superintendent here that the ministry commissions Fraulein Kaschke to translate documents for them and also recommends her to international clients. These clients then either visit Fraulein Kaschke here or ask her to go to their own offices or hotels.' Fredie reached for the telephone.

The superintendent made a deprecating gesture. 'Oh, there's no need, Herr Neubert. Please excuse us, Fraulein Kaschke. Come on, Meiser.' The officers left.

Marlene hugged Fredie. 'Wow, that was great! You really showed them. But suppose they come back?'

'Just leave that to me.' Fredie dialled a number. 'Neubert here. Please put me through to Dr Noack. Hello? Good morning, Major. Yes, a great victory for us all, isn't it? And now I expect there'll be some mopping-up operations. Of characters like a man called Meiser in the Vice Squad. for example. He actually dared to question whether you had been recommending my fiancee Fraulein Kaschke as a secretary with foreign language skills. The man's a Social Democrat or worse. It's possible that his superior officer Superintendent Eggebrecht may be in touch with you, and perhaps you should let him know just what his subordinates are like. Heil Hitler, Major.' Pleased with himself, Fredie hung up.

Marlene giggled. 'Heil who?'

Fredie grinned. 'Heil Hitler. That's how the new Reich Chancellor likes to be addressed. He's an Austrian, he's a bit crazy. But I joined his bunch to be on the safe side. Noack's been in it longer than me. You have to back the right horse.'

She pressed close to him. 'Hey, I really fancy you today.'

'Come on, then,' he said graciously.

On Wednesday Ebel, a cross-grained bachelor, was attacked and beaten up by a troop of Brownshirts on his way home. He died on his way to Westend Hospital. Marlene heard nothing about the incident.

There was a healthy smell of soft soap in the hall of the building. The sound of children's voices drifted from of a ground-floor apartment. Marlene climbed the stairs. 'Giese' she read in ornate black lettering on an oval white enamel nameplate on the second floor. She pressed the bell beside it.

Franz Giese opened the door at once. He was wearing a dark suit with a pale-grey tie, attire he had probably copied from Herr Eulenfels. 'Goodness, you do look smart!' Embarrassed, he looked down at the floor. 'May I come in?' Tulips glowed brightly on the round dining table in the living room, a luxury at this time of year. The dining chairs had dark-red, velour upholstery. There was a bottle of wine on the walnut sideboard, and above it hung a gilt-framed picture of a rutting stag in an autumnal woodland landscape. Lace covers adorned the velour sofa, and a potted plant — an African hemp — stood on the window sill. It was all neat and nice. He doesn't often use this room, she thought.