Goldstein, page 2
‘We should stick with jewellery. Kalli can’t get rid of clothes.’
‘Just try it on.’ He waved the red silk.
‘Now?’
‘It’s an evening dress, isn’t it?’ He held out the shimmering, dark-red dress.
‘Isn’t it a bit too . . . classy?’
‘The question is whether you like it.’
She held the dress against herself and looked in one of the mirrors. The size was right, and she really liked it. She wouldn’t have thought Benny had such an eye for fashion. He’d never bought himself anything to wear, nothing, not even with the money that Kalli gave them last time, enough for half a dozen new suits. He had only noticed that she had bought herself a new coat some days later.
Benny fetched a silver tin from his inside pocket and took out a Manoli Privat, a six-pfennig brand. He didn’t look so ridiculous in that get-up at all, she thought, it was just a little unfamiliar; she had only ever seen him in coarse linen trousers and his faded leather jacket.
‘Do you want one?’ he asked.
‘Just a drag.’
Benny lit the cigarette and passed it on. Alex took two deep drags and returned it.
‘It looks good,’ he said, pulling gloves and a little hat out of the bag. ‘You should put it on.’
Alex stepped behind a pilaster and changed into the dress, donning the gloves and placing the hat on her head, heart pounding. She’d never worn anything so elegant before, and felt good yet insecure at the same time. It was a strange sensation, but Benny must be feeling the same way. She could have spared him that stupid remark.
‘Da-da-da-daa,’ she trumpeted as she emerged. The boy who usually couldn’t keep his mouth shut didn’t say a word, and she knew immediately he was impressed. He looked so elegant, especially now, bowed ever so slightly before her.
‘Will you dance with me?’ he asked.
Alex laughed. ‘Do you hear music?’
‘Yes.’ He took her right hand and clasped her left shoulder. ‘Don’t you?’ He hummed a little melody and swayed her slowly back and forth in three-quarters time.
‘I don’t know how to dance.’
‘Leave that to me.’ He began to waltz, sweeping her along with him. His grip was firm and she abandoned herself to his movement and the rhythm of his song. They reeled past the mannequins with their arrogant faces, past the shelves and clothes stands, past the dappled light gleaming in from Tauentzienstrasse. Only when they came to a halt did she realise that they had danced halfway across the floor. She felt a little dizzy and out of breath, but happy nevertheless.
‘Where did you learn that?’ He never ceased to amaze her, this skinny boy with the child’s face that sometimes appeared so terrifyingly serious and grown-up.
‘In the home. The kitchen girls used to dance when the nuns weren’t looking. They showed me – do you like it?’
She nodded, and he grabbed her again, spinning in the opposite direction this time. Alex was overjoyed. If her father knew that she took pleasure in such bourgeois frippery as the Viennese Waltz, he’d no doubt have condemned his wayward daughter even more than usual.
When they arrived back at the tobacco section she was unable to stand on her own. ‘That was great,’ she said, out of breath. ‘We should have done it sooner. I could use the practice.’
‘Maybe we should go dancing properly sometime. Somewhere real swish, I mean, like a dance hall on the Ku’damm . . .’
Alex laughed. ‘They’d turf us out!’
‘We’d just need to be dressed like we are now.’ Benny paused, as if finding it hard to utter his next sentence, as if the words had to overcome a few hurdles first. ‘You’re beautiful, Alex,’ he said, and it sounded as if he’d been meaning to say it for a long time. He stroked her cheek with his fingertips, startling her with his unexpected tenderness. She gave a little start, but he didn’t notice, simply closed his eyes and drew nearer. Only when his lips brushed against her mouth did she react, pushing him away gently but firmly.
‘Benny! You can’t . . .’
He didn’t seem to understand, or want to understand.
‘I don’t know. You’re only fifteen.’ Shit, Alex, be nice to him! ‘Don’t get me wrong, I like you. You’re my friend.’
‘Why can’t I kiss you?’
He looked so sad and awkward she couldn’t help taking him in her arms and stroking his head. ‘I like you, Benny. But . . . we can’t. Especially not now. We’ve got work to do.’
‘True,’ he said. ‘Enough of this nonsense.’
He let go and unpacked the second canvas bag, into which he had stuffed his old clothes, but she could see she had hurt him for the second time that evening, only this time it had gone deeper. He was trying not to let it show, and she pretended she hadn’t realised, but the atmosphere between them was soured. Moments before they had soared across the KaDeWe floor; now, in evening dress, they looked like two children who had been rummaging secretly through their parents’ wardrobe. At least, that was how Alex felt, and Benny too by the look of him. He rushed to get back into his old clothes, and Alex returned behind the pilaster to change.
‘Let’s get to work,’ he said, passing her the second bag. Silently they went on their way.
The jewellery section was also on the ground floor, the glass of the display cabinets shimmering in the half-dark. Alex felt her nerves jangle again. The most expensive items would be stored in the vault, and, since the display cabinets contained only replicas, Alex and Benny could ignore the swanky rocks and concentrate on simple items that were bound to be genuine: plain rings, bangles and earrings, but mostly watches, any number of them, golden pocket watches and elegant wrist watches. Kalli always paid good money for watches.
Benny took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around his arm. ‘Alex,’ he said, ‘I promise you, in two, maybe three years, I won’t need to do this anymore. I’ll spend the day wearing expensive suits, drive a car, and live in a nice house with servants. And then I’ll ask you again if you want to go dancing with me.’
Before she could reply, he drew back his elbow and shattered the glass with a clatter that was loud enough to wake the whole city.
They moved quickly, not exchanging a word, Alex collecting wristwatches from the shattered display cabinet and stuffing them into her bag, while Benny shook shards of glass from the leather of his jacket and prepared for the next assault. The second time, the clatter didn’t seem quite so loud. She took care not to stuff too many glass fragments into the bag with the watches, which proved trickier with the next display cabinet, where a number of low carat diamond rings rested on the velvet between the splinters. Alex was concentrating so hard on these little splinters that she overlooked the sharp edge of glass in the brass frame and cut the back of her hand.
The wound bled profusely. Without saying a word Benny tore a strip of fabric from his shirt to bind it before emptying the third display cabinet. With her bandaged hand, Alex wasn’t much use.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘It doesn’t matter. We . . .’ Benny broke off, turning to stone mid-sentence. ‘Did you hear that?’
Alex shrugged, but then heard the noise too. Somewhere in the building a door had slammed shut.
‘He’s on the move again,’ she whispered. ‘That can’t be right. He must still be doing his rounds outside; he won’t be going over the shop floor a second time.’
‘I wouldn’t bet on it.’ Benny grabbed another handful of rings. ‘Maybe we were too noisy. Let’s get out of here.’
He closed the two canvas bags, taking the heavier of the pair, and they started to run, with Alex, who was more familiar with the layout, leading the way. In the meantime, there were scores of night owls out and about on Tauentzienstrasse, its windows and doors barred to keep late-night window shoppers from temptation.
They had to find a rear storeroom or office window so that they could reach the access yard and get onto Ansbacher Strasse, before joining the crowds and taking the next U-Bahn train east. Same as always, except something happened that threw their plans into disarray.
The door to the southern stairwell opened, and a wedge of light fell on the shop floor. Alex jumped for cover, dragging Benny behind a wall draped with silk neckties. She thought she had seen a uniform in the door. Not the red-brown of the KaDeWe watchmen, but the dark blue of the Prussian Police.
Judging by the noise, it must be a whole squad of uniformed officers. Benny silently mouthed a word she’d have preferred to scream from the rooftops. Shit!
They would have to go via Tauentzienstrasse after all. They had no other choice. What the hell were the cops doing here anyway? Alex gave Benny a nod and led the way. Hunching slightly, using the shelves and clothes stands for cover, they worked their way through the half-dark, stretching the distance between them and the cops.
‘Police!’ someone cried. ‘We know you’re in here. Give yourselves up. You’re surrounded on all sides!’
For a few moments a light flashed, then it was bright as day. Alex ducked behind the shelf they were passing and peered around the corner. It didn’t look good. The officers had divided themselves into several groups and were systematically combing the entire floor.
She looked at Benny, who gave a helpless shrug. Not much time left. They had to do something. The lifts! The middle one was on the ground floor. Alex gestured towards the lift doors a few metres to their left and Benny nodded. It was their one chance to gain a head start; a little more time to hatch a new plan. They bent low, crawling past a long rack of plus fours. The lifts were now almost within touching distance. All they had to do was break cover.
Alex heard a male voice close by. ‘Look at that mess. Let’s hope they haven’t escaped.’
‘They’re still in the building somewhere,’ said another. ‘I can feel it.’
The cops had discovered the display cabinets, distracting them for a moment. She took a deep breath before stretching an arm towards the button.
The door slid open with a soft pling. Not soft enough.
‘Stop, police!’ someone shouted. ‘Put your hands in the air and show yourselves!’
Alex pulled Benny into the open lift and pressed one of the top buttons. At least she knew how these things worked, thanks to Wertheim. The cops were already coming around the corner, shouting something like ‘stay where you are’, when the door finally closed and the lift began its ascent.
Thank God!
First things first, get onto a higher floor, distance themselves from their pursuers. It would take time for the police to get another lift down to the ground floor. She looked at Benny. At last they could talk again.
‘Shit,’ he said. ‘What are the pigs doing here?’
‘Maybe we set off an alarm.’
‘More likely they were expecting us. Waiting to catch us red-handed.’
‘They’ll have to find us first.’
‘True,’ Benny grinned. ‘I always knew you were a dab hand at escaping, Alex, but where did you learn how to use a lift?’
‘There was a lift boy at Wertheim who had the hots for me.’
He nudged her in the side and laughed, even though it hadn’t been a joke. She had almost paid for that episode with the job she had lost half a year later anyway.
The lift came to a halt and the doors opened. ‘Ladies and Gentlemen, we have reached the fifth floor,’ she said.
‘Shouldn’t we go up one?’
‘Yes, but via the stairs. Then the pigs will start looking on the wrong floor.’
Benny nodded. ‘It’s best we split up. You go up one, I’ll go down one.’
‘Split up?’
‘We don’t know how many there are. To have any chance, we need to separate.’
He sounded like a general before battle. If the situation hadn’t been so serious, she would have laughed.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘And then what?’
‘No idea. Get out of here somehow. There must be a few options in a place like this.’
‘OK. When shall we meet?’
‘Not till we’re outside. The Märchenbrunnen. At the top of every hour.’
‘Good luck, then,’ she said. ‘See you on the outside.’ She looked at him for a final time before running upstairs to the sixth floor. Their footsteps sounded further and further apart.
At the top of the stairs she paused in front of the lift door. It was only a matter of time before the night watchman switched on the sixth floor lights but, for now, it was still dark. For the first time that evening she made use of her torch, shining a light on the numbered displays above the doors. The lift on the far right was already on the way up, now passing the second floor. They were on the move. No time to lose.
Alex burst onto the shop floor in search of another escape route or, at the very least, a place to hide. Her torch beam passed over red-white floor tiles and empty glass counters: the KaDeWe snack bar, heart of the new grocery section. She crossed the floor, moving past shelves full of jam jars until, suddenly, there was nowhere else to go. She looked for an opening in the whitewashed plywood wall whose flimsiness was disguised by rows of shelves. Finally, behind a sales counter, she found an inconspicuous little door with a simple ward lock that was easy to open. She slipped inside and found a stack of planks. The place looked like a building site. She crossed the room and found a door behind which was a staircase leading upwards.
She didn’t know which way to turn, only that she couldn’t fall into the hands of her pursuers. That had been her number one rule since living on the streets: never let the cops get you! For half a year she had been scared stiff they might pick her up and hold her responsible for Beckmann’s death. Or, worse still, give her a good grilling and, in the process, discover it was her brother Karl who had shot that fucking Nazi dead; that she had just stood by and watched. Sometimes she thought it was all her fault: that she had turned her brother into a murderer, only to feel every fibre in her being protest. Because if it wasn’t for all that Red Front bullshit, Karl would never have owned a gun in the first place.
But he did own a gun, and he had fired it.
Alex switched off the torch and listened. Voices, no doubt about it, and they were growing louder. They were combing the sixth floor. Of course: they weren’t so stupid as to be deceived by the lift below. There was a flicker and then the light came on here too. Instinctively Alex eschewed the cover of the building materials and retreated inside the dark stairwell. What must the pedestrians on the street below be thinking, seeing all the floors in KaDeWe lit up just before midnight?
She put her bag over her shoulders and climbed the narrow, dark staircase, desperate to get away before the cops discovered the plywood wall and decided to look behind it.
Climbing through two attic floors she came upon a locked door that posed no problem for her skeleton key. A cold wind blew in her face. She was outside again, on a roof garden above the city. The Gedächtniskirche rose dark out of a sea of houses, and lights flashed in all colours from the urban canyons below. Traffic noise was no longer muffled by the walls of the store. The beep of a horn reminded her that life was waiting below, freedom too. How to get there? The wind was still blowing in her face, letting her know that she had ventured onto foreign terrain, and the cut on her hand was throbbing. She leaned over the parapet and looked down. The KaDeWe logo lit up the darkness, casting neon light on a steep roof with dormer windows. No chance of getting down that way. She prayed that the cops wouldn’t get it into their heads to look up here. Who would be stupid enough to escape onto the roof? Well, Alexandra Reinhold, for one, but the cops couldn’t know that.
Somehow she had to get past them, go down, right down to the bottom and out. She returned to the stairwell, closed the door behind her and stayed still for a moment, listening. Nothing. Everything was still dark. Only when she was certain that the coast was clear did she slowly descend the stairs, step by step and, having arrived below, open the door leading back into the light. The voices could no longer be heard. Had they left? There was no one by the stack of planks, but it was strange that they weren’t looking here. They had left the light on. Alex crept towards the plywood wall and peered through a narrow crack.
There was someone by the lifts. The cops didn’t even have to search the whole building, it was enough to monitor the exits.
She retreated towards the rear of the construction area. Carefully she opened one of the windows on the western side and was startled by how loud the noise suddenly was. Hopefully it wouldn’t reach the lifts. She stretched her head out into the night air, which smelled of petrol and rainclouds, and looked around. Four metres below she could see the balcony that extended around nearly the entire fifth floor of the building, and beyond it the gaping chasm of Passauer Strasse. She could hang on to the window ledge, lower herself down as far as possible and then jump. She could make it. As she was assessing the risks, she saw a figure huddled in a window recess on the balcony. Benny.
The cops had driven the poor boy outside too. He didn’t see her, simply crouched in his hiding place, keeping the door in view. Alex closed the window. How were they going to get out of here in one piece?
The cut on her hand was still throbbing. She opened a door on the south side. Again, it was dark. Only when she was certain that she couldn’t hear footsteps or voices did she switch her torch back on and enter a long corridor. An office wing, everything new, the walls smelling of fresh plaster. Slowly she made her way along the corridor, ignoring doors on both sides, before reaching a turn to the left, perhaps leading to another stairwell. She switched off her torch after noticing a faint gleam of light from a window at the end of the corridor. Outside she caught sight of a firewall, which must have looked out onto the access yard.
Excellent work Fräulein Reinhold, just like you planned. Only a few floors too high!
It had started to rain, but Alex longed for nothing more than to stand outside in the middle of it. She stared through the window and said a quick prayer.
