Babylon Berlin (42 page)

There were no more sightings of Charly. He tried not to think of her too often, but it wasn’t easy as some of the statements he was reading had come from her. At half past four he telephoned Zörgiebel’s outer office and requested a meeting with the commissioner. Dagmar Kling tried to offer him a slot after Whitsun.

‘I’m sorry, but this is an urgent matter. I need to speak to the commissioner today.’

The Guillotine was merciful. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’

‘It is extremely urgent.’

Scarcely five minutes later, Dagmar Kling called back. ‘The commissioner will see you in twenty minutes. He’s not in the best of moods.’

‘Believe me, I’ll cheer him up.’

He didn’t have to wait, the Guillotine waved him straight through.

Zörgiebel seemed overcome with remorse. The press coverage today certainly hadn’t been to his liking.

‘Good day, Commissioner.’

‘Good day, Herr Rath. What can I do for you?’

‘I hope it’s me who can do something for you, Commissioner. Do you remember the dead man who was found in the Landwehr canal two weeks ago?’

‘Everyone keeps reminding me.’

‘I think I’ve found a new lead that might help us solve the case.’

Zörgiebel’s eyebrows rose sharply. ‘Why are you talking to me, Inspector Rath?’ he asked. ‘DCI Böhm was leading the investigation.’

‘
Was
leading
, Commissioner,
was
leading
. But then he was given the Jänicke case. Since it currently has priority, I thought the best thing to do was to consult the Commissioner directly. You can decide how best to proceed. The case has already been assigned to the wet fish.’

Zörgiebel nodded. ‘It’s probably not the worst idea, coming to me. So what have you got? And how did you come by it?’

‘That’s a long and complex story…’

‘Then give me the abridged version. You can put the rest in your report.’

‘The dead man they found in the canal is Russian. First name Boris, I don’t know his surname. Anyway, he belonged to a communist splinter group that calls itself
Red Fortress
– or at least worked for them. On their orders, he smuggled a large amount of gold out of the Soviet Union, gold that belonged to the noble family Sorokin.’

Rath watched Zörgiebel closely. The word Sorokin didn’t elicit any reaction. It seemed the story of the Berlin gold wasn’t quite as well known as Major General Seegers thought.

‘The head of the
Red
Fortress
is a man named Alexej Kardakov, whom I strongly suspect of Boris’s murder,’ he continued. That the Russian had once lived in Rath’s flat was none of Zörgiebel’s business. ‘Kardakov has gone underground, likewise his accomplice Countess Svetlana Sorokina, whose family concealed the gold from the Bolsheviks.’

‘Wait a minute!’ Zörgiebel interrupted. ‘Why would they kill the man who brought them the gold?’

‘Because he wanted to clear off with it. According to my information, the money was to be used to finance the underground work of the
Red Fortress.
’

‘You mean weapons?’

‘They weren’t planning to print pamphlets! The gold is alleged to be worth eighty million marks.’

‘Difficult to find someone who’ll cough up that much.’

‘Which is why Kardakov had already established contact with a
Ringverein
in advance, and how I hit upon the connection in the first place. It was
Berolina
, the
Ringverein
Josef Wilczek belonged to.’

Zörgiebel gave him a questioning look.

‘Wilczek, the dead man in the concrete,’ Rath continued. ‘His
Ringverein
was supposed to turn the gold into cash for the
Red Fortress.
Clearly it never reached either the
Fortress
or
Berolina
.’

‘And this smuggler – Boris – is supposed to have embezzled the gold?’

Rath nodded.

‘How did
he
turn it to cash?’

‘I suspect with the help of another
Ringverein
. Perhaps he made a deal with Stalin’s people and collected a reward. There are a number of possibilities.’

‘How did such a large amount of gold make it across the border undetected in the first place?’

‘That’s a question I still can’t answer, Commissioner.’

‘And I imagine you don’t have any conclusive proof either?’

‘That’s the problem, Commissioner. There’s hardly any evidence. At least DCI Böhm knows which direction to take his investigation in now, and Kardakov ought to have a lot to say, once he has been found.’

Zörgiebel glanced at the time. ‘This is most irritating, Herr Rath.’

‘Irritating, Commissioner?’

‘The worst possible time to inform the press. We won’t get it in the evening editions.’

A
good thing too
, Rath thought,
since
I’ve given Weinert
my word.

Zörgiebel appeared pensive. ‘First we should put out a warrant for this… what’s his name?’

‘Kardakov.’

‘Right. Do you have enough evidence to justify a murder charge?’

‘He’s going to be very important for the progress of the investigation. If not as a suspect, then as a witness. The Countess too.’

‘We’ll wait a few days. We can inform the press after Whitsun.’

Rath cleared his throat. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible, Commissioner.’

‘Pardon me?’

‘We need to inform the press immediately. Otherwise it won’t reflect well on the Berlin police.’

‘I’m not sure I follow.’

‘I only got the decisive information from a journalist today, someone who knew Kardakov personally and has done research on
Krasnaja Krepost…
’

‘On who?’

‘The
Red Fortress.
Some of the things I’ve just told you, above all the stuff about the
Red Fortress
and the Sorokin gold, will appear in
Abendblatt
tonight.’

‘That smearsheet…’

‘Which is why I thought it was my duty to inform you right away, Commissioner.’

‘You’re right, you’re right.’ Zörgiebel waved his fat hands gruffly. ‘And you can’t stop this muckraker from…’

‘Afraid not, Commissioner. The man invoked the freedom of the press and believed he had performed his duty by informing the police.’ Rath reached into his jacket. ‘He did, however, provide me these pictures. These show Kardakov, while this is the Countess. She was working under a false name as a singer.’

Zörgiebel examined the pictures, resting his massive chin in his hands.

‘If we go to the press with this story today, then we have to be careful, I hope that much is clear. There’s far too much speculation.’

‘Of course, Commissioner, but we can at least announce a breakthrough.’

‘Good, I’ll discuss the matter with Gennat and Böhm, and get the necessaries underway. You should be present at this meeting, Inspector.’ He reached for the house telephone. ‘Dagmar? Please ask Gennat and Böhm to join us. Let’s say in ten minutes, and notify the press. Tell them I’ll be holding a press conference in one hour.’

He hung up and fished a cigar from the case on his desk, offering one to Rath. He turned it down. Bad enough to have to sit opposite Böhm, but with a cigar in the corner of his mouth, it would just be plain embarrassing. He tapped an Overstolz from the red packet.

‘I prefer cigarettes, if you don’t mind sir.’

Zörgiebel leaned forward and gave him a light.

‘My dear Rath, it’s not that I’m displeased with your findings, but you really should have gone to Böhm with them. How long have you known that a
Ringverein
was mixed up in this?’

‘The connection wasn’t clear until today, Commissioner, after I’d spoken to the journalist. I asked to see you straightaway.’

‘Which journalist is it?’

‘I had to assure him absolute confidentiality. The article will appear under a pseudonym. Revealing secrets like this is not without danger.’

‘Will he be available as a witness in that case?’

Rath shrugged his shoulders, fished a piece of paper out of his pocket and placed it on the table. ‘I also have the addresses of two Russians, most likely colleagues of Kardakov. They could lead us to him.’

Zörgiebel took the piece of paper and cleared his throat. He looked as though he’d had a tough day.

‘I’m indebted to you, Herr Rath,’ he said. ‘A breakthrough in this investigation was long overdue.’

‘I’m only doing my duty, Commissioner.’
Modesty doesn’t get you anywhere
, Rath thought to himself, but it wouldn’t be the first time Zörgiebel had heard that line and he’d know how to interpret it.

‘You are aware, I hope, that I can’t promote you, Herr Rath? Even if you personally were to put Stalin behind bars. The Interior Ministry has issued a moratorium on promotions.’

‘I know, Commissioner.’

‘So, what is it you want?’

‘My own office, with my name on the door, and my own secretary at last.’

Zörgiebel smiled. ‘Very well, Inspector! I think that can be arranged.’

‘Thank you, Commissioner.’

‘If I could give you one piece of advice, young man, it would be to take some time out over Whitsun. You’ve accrued a lot of overtime.’

‘And the investigation? I thought Böhm needed every man.’

‘If I were you, I’d be avoiding the DCI for a few days. The meeting in a moment will be bad enough and I can’t promise that he will keep his calm. You’ve been conducting an investigation behind his back, no matter how you try to spin it. If you’re lucky, he’ll have just about calmed down again by Tuesday.’ Zörgiebel shook his head. ‘My dear Rath, you should remember one thing. If you carve a career for yourself at the expense of others you’re going to make enemies. There’s an old saying that you always meet twice in life. Well, I can guarantee that you’ll run into DCI Böhm more often than twice.’

The press conference went famously. Zörgiebel introduced Rath as the man who had made the decisive breakthrough in the
Möckern Bridge
investigation. Admittedly he neglected to mention that Rath didn’t actually belong to the investigating team, or that the team had been disbanded. It was meant to look as if the press had been wrong to suspect Zörgiebel and the Berlin police of dropping everything to expedite the Jänicke case. The commissioner never tired of expressing his indignation at this assumption.

‘Gentlemen,’ he said. ‘You now have the opportunity to atone for your error.’

At first, Rath hadn’t seen Charly, but she must have been standing next to the door for a long time. She was looking on with a sceptical gaze, arms folded in front of her chest. Had Böhm sent her? The DCI had stayed away from the press conference, even though Zörgiebel had wanted to take him onto the platform with them. During the short meeting just now in Zörgiebel’s office, the homicide detective had stormed out in a rage, slamming the door behind him. Clearly, he was accustomed to making such exits. Gennat hadn’t come either, not believing they had enough to go to the press. He had told Zörgiebel as much in no uncertain terms.

Thus the commissioner had staged the conference with Rath alone, after they agreed on what information to disclose. It seemed to be enough for the press. The reporters busily noted it all down.

Charly remained by the door after the conference was over, the reporters pushing past her into the corridor. In truth, there was no reason to hurry, since the evening editions were already on sale and the extras hadn’t carried the story either. She stayed where she was until the whole crowd had moved past. Rath was last to leave with Zörgiebel, whom she greeted politely, reserving a hostile gaze for Rath which he put down to their agreement not to act like a couple at the Castle.

He didn’t realise ignoring him was the last thing on her mind until she spoke.

‘You really are an arsehole, Herr Rath,’ she hissed, so loudly that the commissioner could hear, and left him standing like a daft schoolboy.

25

Well then, happy Whitsun!

Charly wasn’t answering her telephone. He had tried the whole of Friday night and, on one occasion at least, had managed to get her friend on the line. Greta had informed him tersely that Charly was away over the holiday and hung up.

He couldn’t believe it. Charly wasn’t free until Sunday, when they had been planning to take a drive out to the country together. Thinking of the holiday plans they had hatched in
Excelsior
cut him to the quick and he gave up dialling her number. It was late by the time he left the Castle and rode out to Friedenau. Bruno was already on his way to bed, but sat drinking with him for a while. It was becoming a habit, but not even the alcohol could banish the thought of Charly.

There was no sign of her when he arrived at the Castle on Saturday, even though he wasn’t working. In A Division he found only an exceedingly bad-tempered Wilhelm Böhm, who didn’t say a word and looked at him as if he were a disgusting insect. He hadn’t thought it possible, but it was almost worse than having the man yell at him.

Zörgiebel had been right, there was an icy atmosphere in the whole of A Division. Still, Rath was sure he could handle it, even if the business with Charly had hit him hard. She seemed to despise him for what he had done, for his secrecy, for the humiliation he had inflicted upon Böhm but, most of all he suspected, for the fact that she had fed him exclusive information about the
Möckern Bridge
investigation. He hadn’t told her anything about his plans, let alone his findings. He had sucked her dry, squeezed her like a lemon.

But, what was he supposed to have done? By the time he’d met her he was already up to his neck in it and he
needed
this success. He, Gereon Rath, needed a personal success, a success that he didn’t want to, couldn’t, share with self-righteous superiors such as Böhm.

His parents had called on Friday evening and congratulated him. Zörgiebel had probably notified his old friend, and mentioned Gereon’s days off too. Didn’t he fancy coming to Cologne for Whitsun, Engelbert Rath had asked. ‘It would make your mother so happy.’