Pierre Frei - Berlin - A Novel

At one o'clock an open-topped, silver-grey Horch bearing the SS badge stopped outside the house. It was the official car of Obersturmbannfahrer Dr Noack, who was in his black uniform today. Fredie preferred a white, raw silk suit. Because of those special operations, he could wear what he chose.

'Enchanting.' Noack's eyes lingered on her figure. She hadn't been expecting a visitor, and was wearing only an apron over her bathing suit. She took the bathing suit off in the bedroom, slipped quickly into a lightweight summer dress, and then laid a third place. They ate in the garden, under an old birch tree. There were stuffed peppers with rice, and a light Mosel to drink. Marlene had acquired some culinary skills. She took her housewifely duties seriously.

Over coffee, Dr Noack got down to business. As I'm sure you have guessed, I didn't come just for lunch, for which thank you very much, by the way, it was excellent. Your husband has asked me to explain what we expect of you.'

An uneasy feeling came over her.

Noack took two spoonfuls of sugar and stirred his coffee in a leisurely manner. 'It's about the Communist leader Eddie Talberg. A dangerous enemy of the German people. There's a warrant out for his arrest. He got wind of it and has gone underground. One man certainly knows where Talberg is hiding: his friend the writer Dr Erwin Kastner, one of those intellectuals tainted by Jewish influence who foul their own nests, although we've spared them until now. Kastner goes to the Romanesque Cafe every afternoon. You will make his acquaintance there and find out from him where Talberg is hiding. Much depends on your success, not least the career of your husband. He will give you the details.' Noack rose to his feet and went into the house.

'Fredie, what's all this about?'

'It won't be difficult for you to get to know Kastner in the Romanesque, I'm sure.'

'Fine. So I get to know this Dr Kastner, apparently by chance. Then what? Am I supposed to ask, "Oh, and just by the way, where's your friend Talberg hiding?"'

'They all talk in bed.'

It took her a few seconds to realize what he was asking. 'I won't do it,' she said firmly.

'You'll do what I want you to do.' He forced her back against the trunk of the old birch tree. Noack was watching from the study window. Fredie pushed her thin dress up to her hips. She was naked under it. He raised her left knee and took her violently, standing. She screamed like an animal. When he had finished, he twisted her arm brutally behind her back and led her into the house. Noack was sitting on the couch. Fredie forced her to her knees in front of him. 'Go on, do it,' he ordered.

Afterwards she went into the bathroom to gargle and shower. Fredie handed her a towel. 'It's not that bad, girl.' He patted her bottom as if to mollify her. 'Noack can do us no end of good if you play along, so don't make such a fuss about it.'

'Why did you marry me?' she asked, painfully.

A long-standing fiancee with lots of different gentlemen friends no longer suits our sound and healthy German national mood. With these new bigwigs in charge you have to look moral to the outside world.'

She dressed in a light pullover, wide-legged, pale-grey flannel trousers and sandals. She looked at herself in the mirror, a pretty young married woman, fashionably dressed, with an ambitious husband and a home in a prime location. That was how any observer who didn't know better would see her. And you're nothing but a tart,' she spat at her reflection in the glass.

Fredie was in a deckchair on the terrace, reading the Lokalanzeiger. 'Fabulous!' he cried. 'There's a million and a half motorcars in the country now. Every forty-second German owns one. What do you think of a nice convertible?'

'What do you think of the S-Bahn?' She brought him down to earth. 'You could take it into town and get me some of this Erwin Kastner's books. From now on I'm one of his greatest fans.'

Astonishing what a bit of exercise against a birch tree will do,' he mocked her.

'One of these days I'll murder you, Fredie,' she replied equably.

Marlene had been reading a great deal lately She indiscriminately consumed everything written by Stefan Zweig. Hedwig Courths-Mahler, Theodor Fontane, Thea von Harbou and many more. The former owners of the house had left their library behind. She spent two days and half a night reading Erwin Kastner's The Family Visit, The Peep-Show and The Giraffe's Guide. They were satirical commentaries on modern life. Marlene sensed rather than understood that the author was knocking holes in grandiose facades.

On Tuesday she went into town, very much the chic Berliner, tall and slim, her blonde hair fashionably set. She noted admiring looks from men, and expertly parried several attempts to approach her. At Stiller's she bought a pair of shoes, and in the Wertheim department store some artificial silk stockings. At Aschingers she allowed herself a couple of sausages for lunch, and in the afternoon she went into the Romanesque Cafe near the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church.

There was a picture of the author on the dust jacket of one of his books, and she recognized him at once. Erwin Kastner was a dapper little man with wavy grey hair. There was nothing Bohemian about him; he looked more like a kindly public-school teacher in his neatly pressed suit. He was sitting at a little marble table with a dozen well-sharpened pencils in front of him, and a pad of lined writing paper which he was covering with spindly handwriting. Marlene watched him from the next table. Now and then he raised his head, as if searching in the distance for the next part of his story.

She waved to the waiter and gave him a book. 'Would you take that over to Dr Kastner, please?' The waiter did as she asked, and put The Family Visit in front of the writer, murmuring a few words and discreetly indicating Marlene. She had slipped a note inside the book: 'My name is Marlene Neubert. I specially like the character of Arnold Wagenfeldt. Could I ask you to sign this for me?'

Kastner wrote a few words in the book and handed it back to the waiter. 'For Marlene Neubert, from Arnold Wagenfeldt, who doesn't appear in this book,' she read. She had mixed up Erwin Kastner's Family Visit with The Giraffe's Guide.

This time he returned her glance. He had an amused expression on his face. She shrugged apologetically, and paid her bill. A man with neatly parted fair hair put down the newspaper holder containing the Vossischer Zeitung and followed her. She had noticed him before on the S-Bahn, on her way into town.

'I made contact with Kastner at the Romanesque,' she told Fredie that evening. 'But you know that already.'

'For Marlene Neubert, my enchanting young reader, from Erwin Kastner, September 1933,' was the inscription in the copy of The Giraffe's Guide that the waiter took over to Marlene's table next afternoon, asking, 'Dr Kastner would like to know if he can offer you a cup of tea.'

The writer rose courteously. He came up to Marlene's shoulders. 'This is very nice of you. Do sit down. Do you come here often?'

'Yesterday was the first time. I wanted to meet you.'

'Well, now you have. A China tea?'

'I'd rather have a coffee.'

And why did you want to meet me?'

Let's simply say that I like mature men.'

'Just like that?'

'I'll tell you tomorrow if you'll invite me round to your place. There are too many eavesdroppers here.'

'Will my collection of first editions do as an excuse? I live on Bayerischer Platz. At four o'clock?' He gave her his card.

That evening Marlene handed the card to Fredie. 'He's invited me to his place tomorrow.'

'Make yourself out to be an ardent Young Communist who wants to help her idol Talberg.'

'Kastner's no fool.'

'You'll soon get him where you want him, with your abilities in bed.'