Goldstein, page 29
‘I’m here to learn,’ Tornow grinned.
‘That’s right, you’re my apprentice now. What I’m interested in, is why you became a policeman?’
‘Why do you ask?’
‘I ask every new colleague. You can give me several reasons if you’re not sure.’
‘There’s only one reason.’
‘And that would be?’
‘My sister.’
Rath waited, but nothing followed, and Tornow was so serious he didn’t probe further. ‘Fetch your things,’ he said, to end the silence, ‘and I’ll introduce you to your new colleagues.’
‘There isn’t much to fetch. Besides, I’d rather Böhm speaks to Kilian before I show up in Warrants again.’
‘Right then. We’re just around the corner.’
When Rath opened the door Kirie stood expectantly, wagging her tail.
‘You bring your dog to the office?’ Tornow asked.
‘Only when it can’t be avoided.’ He gestured towards Erika Voss, who was sitting behind her desk on the telephone. ‘Our secretary, Fräulein Voss.’
Erika Voss hung up and looked across curiously.
‘A new colleague, Erika,’ Rath said. ‘Herr Tornow is a cadet who’ll be working with us for the time being.’
The secretary returned Tornow’s smile. She seemed to like her new colleague.
65
Charly had to resist a buying frenzy in this cathedral of consumption. Tables of clothing and scents, wrap-around galleries across four floors, the enormous skylight that crowned it all, it was hard to escape the magical appeal. Wertheim on Leipziger Platz had been her favourite department store since she was a little girl accompanying her mother. Today she wasn’t here to shop, but even so caught herself browsing the summer offers. She could definitely use a new blouse . . .
‘Does the young lady require assistance?’
A saleswoman had noticed her.
‘I’m looking for Personnel.’
‘I’m afraid we’re not hiring.’
‘That’s not why I’m here. I just need some information.’
A little later, Charly sat in a small office overlooking the venerable row of houses on Vossstrasse.
‘Alexandra Reinhold?’ The man had introduced himself as Herr Eick, stressing the Herr as though it were his first name, and stood by a wall-high shelving unit of files. He fished one out. ‘Let’s take a look.’
Herr Eick made every effort to appear important, as well as being extremely helpful. He stole a glance at Charly’s legs before sitting down to skim through the files. ‘Might I ask why you are interested in Fräulein Reinhold?’ he said, without looking up, but he was still squinting at her out of the corner of his eye.
‘We’re family,’ she lied, crossing her legs, which threw Herr Eick for a moment. ‘I’m in Berlin for a few days and wanted to surprise my cousin. I thought I’d pick her up after work.’
‘Here we are! The delicatessen section.’ The man gazed triumphantly, then regretfully. ‘I’m afraid you won’t be able to pick her up,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘We had to let her go. In October ‘30.’
‘I didn’t know that. Why? I hope she didn’t do anything wrong?’
Eick shook his head. ‘No, no, don’t worry. Purely a budgeting measure. Times are hard.’
Charly stood and stretched out a hand. ‘Well, what can you do? Thank you for your efforts, Herr Eick.’
He seemed disappointed that she was leaving so soon. Before he could say anything – invite her to dinner, or maybe out dancing – she departed the office.
In the delicatessen, she could no longer resist temptation and bought a crab meat salad and a bottle of champagne to go. She might need consoling after meeting Gereon later, and wasn’t sure if she should accept his invitation to dinner. It might be better to insist on just a glass of wine. She was afraid he might attempt to bribe her. In more ways than one.
Asking the saleswoman in neat white overalls to weigh out a hundred grams, she added casually: ‘An Alexandra Reinhold is supposed to work here. You don’t know where I can find her?’ The woman hesitated. ‘I’m her cousin.’
‘From Jerichow?’ She had a Berlin accent.
Charly nodded.
‘Alex didn’t tell you either! She hasn’t worked here for ages. Almost a year now.’
Charly feigned surprise.
‘I remember her da’ standing here just a few weeks after it happened. He didn’t say a word. He’d come to pick her up, just like you.’
‘Do you know where I can find her?’
‘You don’t have an address?’
‘The Reinholds have moved. There were strangers in the flat.’
The woman wrapped the packed crab meat salad in wax paper and passed the package across the glass counter.
‘They’re homeless, apparently, the Reinholds,’ she said, quiet-ly, as if ashamed to discuss it. ‘I thought they’d moved out to you, in Jerichow. But they must be somewhere else.’
‘Homeless? I don’t believe it!’ Charly feigned shock. ‘There’s no one here who might still be in touch? Who might know where she’s living?’
‘Maybe Erich. The butcher’s apprentice, here at Wertheim. He had his eye on her. The way he looked at her when he brought up the stock.’
‘Were they friends? I mean: together?’
‘Not officially, anyway.’ The saleswoman shook her head. ‘It’s strictly forbidden here. You carry on with a minor and you’re out the door, but he certainly had a big crush on her. If you ask me, your cousin wasn’t completely averse either . . .’ She winked at Charly.
‘You think he might be able to help?’
‘If you’re unlucky, she’ll have told him just as little as she told everyone else. She hasn’t been back since she got the boot. I think she was ashamed.’
‘Erich, you say?’
‘Erich Rambow. In the butcher’s downstairs.’
Charly picked up a bottle of champagne and paid at the till. She had something to celebrate, after all: her future with the Berlin Criminal Police. Besides, she had skipped lunch so could afford this little luxury. Shopping bag in hand, she asked the way to the butcher’s, but this time her luck was out. Erich Rambow had already left for the evening.
66
Rath arrived at Kempinski ten minutes early. He couldn’t afford to be late, not tonight. He had thought about taking Kirie, who was always useful when he needed to appease Charly, but the poor dog wouldn’t have been allowed in. Instead, he had fallen back on the services of Frau Lennartz and her husband, who enjoyed taking her overnight, especially as it meant money for them. If things continued like this, they’d soon be earning more from Kirie than their day jobs.
He handed the bouquet to the head waiter and slipped him a small note to ensure they sat on the terrace overlooking the Ku’damm, far enough from the action to talk in private. Everything had to be just right. He wanted her back; wanted, finally, to show her how he felt and put an end to the atmosphere between them. He was ready to go the whole hog again, but this time hoped for better luck. He hadn’t simply showered and thrown on a new suit, but pocketed the rings that had waited in vain in champagne glasses all those weeks ago in Cologne.
He smoked while he waited. The waiter placed the flowers on the table in a pretty, modern vase with the Kempinski ‘K’, changing the ashtray with the same exaggerated attentiveness as the boy in the Excelsior, when she appeared. Rath held his breath.
She looked stunning in her red dress. He savoured the moment as she looked around and was approached by the head waiter. In that instant Rath knew he would do anything for this woman, but first he had to convince her that he, Gereon Rath, was the right man for her. The only man for her – in spite of everything.
His heart started beating faster as the waiter escorted her to the table and he thought he saw a smile flit across her face. He straightened her chair, but she kept her distance as she greeted him and sat down. No embrace, no sign of a kiss. Rath was just as cool, however difficult he found it.
She looked at the flowers, realising they hadn’t been paid for out of Kempinski funds. The flower arrangements on the other tables were more modest. ‘From you?’ she asked.
‘There was a complaint about the last batch. I hope these are up to scratch.’
Without smiling, she looked in her handbag, took out her cigarettes and a carton of matches, and placed both on the table. It looked as if she were preparing her weapons for a duel.
‘How was your day?’ he asked.
‘So-so.’ She lit a Juno and threw the match in the ashtray. ‘Yours?’
‘Our surveillance has gone belly-up. Goldstein gave us the slip.’
She pricked up her ears. A reaction, at last! ‘The gangster?’
Rath nodded. ‘Some time on Friday. A member of staff helped him.’ He lit a cigarette too, even though he had stubbed out his last only three minutes before. ‘Any progress with your Alex?’
Charly shook her head and blew smoke into the hedgerow that separated the terrace from the Ku’damm.
‘I’m sorry about recently,’ he continued. ‘You mustn’t think I’m not taking things seriously. You’re right to look for this girl.’
‘You understand what I’m going through now that you’ve got problems of your own?’
‘I’ve had problems before. You know that. This isn’t the first time.’
Charly nodded. He had never seen her draw so greedily on a cigarette, but perhaps he had just never noticed before?
‘Did you try the brother again?’ he asked, playing the experienced man. ‘That’s where I’d start, or at Wertheim. Her father said she used to work there.’
‘Thanks for the tip, Inspector. Let’s talk about something else.’
He drew quickly on his cigarette to avoid saying something he regretted. Last week she had picked a quarrel because he wasn’t taking her concerns seriously enough; now she couldn’t wait to get him off the subject. They’d barely been here two minutes, and already he was struggling to keep it together. He tried a different approach.
‘I have a new colleague.’ The waiter’s arrival closed this line. Rath ordered a Gewürztraminer, Charly a Selters.
‘Thank you for the invite,’ she said.
‘You can order something more expensive, you know. I’ve got plenty of cash. Or are you afraid I might get you drunk?’
Charly didn’t respond to his tired joke. It seemed she hadn’t even heard. He drummed his fingers quietly on the tablecloth, growing impatient. No more jokes. He wouldn’t even try to lighten the atmosphere, if that’s how she wanted it. ‘You said we needed to talk,’ he said. ‘So, let’s talk.’
‘Yes, let’s talk,’ she said. ‘But perhaps we could mention the elephant in the room. Are you going to apologise to Guido?’
Was that all they were here to talk about? The fucking grinning man? ‘Yes, for God’s sake,’ he said, louder than intended. ‘I told you I would on the telephone. Is that all you wanted to discuss?’ He was taken aback by his own aggression, but she wasn’t making things any easier.
She stubbed out her cigarette and fumbled around in the carton, almost pulling out a replacement before pushing it back inside. Her coldness was a mask, he realised. She was more nervous, even, than him. He wasn’t sure if that was a good or a bad sign.
‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘I know I messed up. Maybe that’s why I’m acting so annoyed. It won’t happen again.’
This time Charly did take another Juno from the carton, while Rath drew on his Overstolz. Let’s have a smoking competition, shall we? he thought, but understood that whatever she wanted to discuss would not be good news. He was expecting the worst, but wouldn’t just give up. That much he could promise already.
He gave her a light, and she looked at him with an expression that broke his heart: tentative, questioning, uncertain. What was wrong with her? Something was weighing heavily. Surely she didn’t want to . . .?
The waiter burst into the silence with the drinks. Even he seemed to realise something wasn’t quite right. When he disappeared again Rath raised his glass in such a way that it wasn’t clear if he was toasting her health or not. The wine was fine, the temperature just right. He took another sip. Charly smoked quickly, without touching her Selters.
‘You’re right,’ she said. ‘Let’s not keep on about this Guido business. We have more important things to discuss.’
Rath watched his worst fears become reality. That was how he would have started if he’d wanted to draw a line, but that wasn’t what he wanted, damn it! Not what he wanted at all.
He kept looking at her mouth, waiting for the next sentence, not daring to breath. She seemed to find it difficult to say what she had to say. The silence lasted an age, and Rath feared he might suffocate.
‘You remember Professor Heymann,’ she said at length. ‘Criminal law. My supervisor if I ever do a doctorate.’
Rath only vaguely remembered, but nodded anyway. The legal world, all these academic circles, had always felt alien to him. He had picked Charly up from the odd meeting and run into a few professors or classmates in the process but, apart from the grinning man, he couldn’t remember a single face. If Heymann was who he thought he was, then he must be pushing sixty, perhaps even seventy. Rath felt his mouth grow dry. What was this? Was she about to confess to a relationship with her former professor?
‘Heymann made me an offer,’ she continued. ‘I wanted to discuss it with you before I decided, but after last week . . .’ She lit a new Juno from the old one. ‘Today I accepted.’ She stubbed out the smoked cigarette. ‘I’m accompanying him to Paris for six months. An international research project. Territorial jurisdictions of criminal law.’
Only now did she sip her mineral water.
Rath waited for more, but nothing came. That was her news. Charly wanted to go abroad with her professor for six months. Nothing more and nothing less, and harmless in comparison with what he had been expecting.
‘Paris is nice,’ he said simply. What a stupid comment, but it didn’t matter anymore. He felt a weight lifted from his shoulders, simply falling away from him.
‘Is that all you have to say?’
He stubbed out his cigarette. ‘When?’ he asked, but he might just as well have asked ‘how’ or ‘why’ or ‘how many?’ It was pure chance that his response made sense. He could barely think.
‘Next semester. I’d have to leave in September.’
Suddenly, even the wine tasted better. He had been expecting the worst and, against that, half a year didn’t seem nearly so bad. He’d get through it.
Instinctively, he felt for the little package in his inside pocket. As good as her news was, now wasn’t the right time for the rings. Could he really propose now, when she was about to disappear for half a year? How would that look? Celebrate their engagement, then pack his fiancée off to foreign parts? With another man! He could imagine the gossip, the well-meaning advice. His parents alone would . . .
‘Say something!’
She was expecting an answer.
‘Wonderful,’ he said. ‘That means Weber and the Lichtenberg District Court can go get knotted, right?’
Charly laughed uncertainly, and he realised that a weight had been lifted from her too. ‘I’m not sure I’d put it quite like that, but you’re right. A joint project with Heymann means I can kiss goodbye to preparatory service in Lichtenberg.’
‘Then it’s the best thing you can do.’ Rath waved the waiter over and ordered a bottle of fizz. ‘We have to make a toast,’ he said. ‘Why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘I . . . I didn’t know what you would say. I didn’t know what I wanted myself.’
‘But now you do.’ For once Rath felt comfortable in the role of sponsor.
Charly nodded.
‘What about your old dream of joining CID? Are you giving that up in favour of an academic career?’
She grinned broadly. ‘I could start in a year’s time as a police cadet, without the preparatory service. I have Gennat’s word.’
‘When did this happen?’
‘When I was with Nebe and Lange last week, in the Castle.’
‘You didn’t tell me about that either?’ She shrugged. ‘Congratulations,’ he said. ‘Buddha doesn’t make that sort of promise to just anyone.’
‘Thank you.’ She stubbed out her cigarette, and, at last, didn’t light a new one. The air was thick with smoke.
‘Good news all round,’ Rath said. ‘That means in a year from now, you’ll be back in the Castle.’ He smiled, and he didn’t even have to strain. ‘I wonder who’ll be showing you the ropes. I’m getting my first taste with a cadet right now. Maybe at some point Gennat will entrust me with the more problematic cases.’
‘Pardon me?’
‘You’d have to show a little more respect for authority . . .’
‘You show me the ropes?’ She feigned indignation. ‘You should be so lucky! Besides, I wouldn’t be a cadet in Homicide, but G Division. Might I remind you that I’m a woman.’
‘So I’ll apply for a transfer.’
Charly laughed in that unbridled way he adored. She was so loud other people looked across at them. ‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I was just picturing it.’ G Division was the women’s CID.
‘What will we do while you’re away,’ he asked. ‘Will we see each other for the occasional weekend?’
‘Paris is a long way away. I won’t get back to Berlin very often.’
‘What about Cologne? That’s half way.’
He said it without thinking. His home city didn’t evoke good memories in Charly. Or, for that matter, in him. They were silent for a moment. Fortunately the waiter came with the bottle of champagne and took their order at the same time. Charly, who had been sipping like a canary on a diet, had brought her appetite. They clinked glasses.
‘To us,’ Rath said, hoping he hadn’t taken things too far. He was pretty good at misreading situations, above all situations that involved Charly, but she raised her glass and gave him a blissful smile.
