Babylon Berlin (45 page)

‘If you ask me, it was one of those fucking communists,’ Wolter said emphatically. ‘Wilczek was shot in a communist area as well.’

‘If only it were that easy. Sometimes the culprit’s not the person you bargain on.’

‘Sometimes homicide cases remain unsolved.’

‘Not with Gennat.’

‘Even he must have given up on a case.’

‘It’s the curiosity that drives you. You know that,’ Rath said. ‘The question why someone had to die, you can’t get it out of your mind.’

‘Sometimes it’s better to let the dead rest. Not everyone who solves a murder gets their own office. Sometimes all they get is trouble.’

‘Jänicke knew his killer,’ Rath said, watching Wolter’s face as he spoke. ‘You’d have to be pretty cold-blooded to blow away a friend at such close range, don’t you think?’

Wolter shrugged his shoulders. ‘Life isn’t always as simple as you think. Besides, what does friendship even mean? Not every acquaintance is a friend. A friend is someone who never leaves you in the lurch, who sticks by you even when times are tough.’

Now it was Rath’s turn to shrug.

‘I’ve found a new room,’ he said after a pause. ‘I won’t be in your hair after tomorrow.’

‘Oh,’ Bruno appeared surprised. ‘Why the rush? Can’t wait to get away from us? We had almost got used to you, hadn’t we Emmi?’

‘Yes, darling.’ Emmi Wolter wasn’t quite with it. The conversation just now had obviously confused her, and it seemed she was still troubled by her guilty conscience.

‘I can’t take advantage of your hospitality any longer. I’ve outstayed my welcome here already.’

He placed his serviette on the table and stood up.

‘But Herr Rath, you will come and visit us, won’t you?’ Emmi Wolter said. Clearly she hadn’t failed to notice the tension between the two men.

Rath said ‘good night’, and went upstairs to pack his things.

27

Just before seven the next morning, Rath found himself standing in the large foyer of the Hotel
Excelsior
which, with its lush botanical arrangements, reminded him of the palm house at Dahlem. He had reserved a single room by telephone the day before, prior to leaving Alex and driving out to Friedenau. He’d sooner spend five marks than another day in Fregestrasse. The concierge at reception greeted him cheerfully, before adopting an expression of acute regret as he looked down the reservation list.

‘Herr Rath, I must confess that we weren’t expecting you so early. I’m afraid the room is still occupied.’

‘Would it be possible for someone to look after my luggage?’

‘Of course.’ The concierge glanced disapprovingly at Rath’s cardboard box and waved a boy over.

‘Thank you,’ Rath said, as the boy heaved the heavy suitcase and box onto a luggage trolley. ‘I’m going to have breakfast first.’

The concierge replied with a sour smile.

A short time later, Rath was in the breakfast room, feeling almost at home. The coffee did him good.

He had barely been able to sleep, not only because he was sleeping under the same roof as a murderer, but because his restless mind kept asking the same question over and over again. Why?

He ought to have left straight after dinner, but for some reason he had wanted to keep up appearances, to avoid making the rupture quite so open. Perhaps he was still clinging to the hope that it could yet turn out to be one big mistake.

He had left a message on the dining table, subdued but friendly, in which he thanked the Wolters and explained his early morning departure by saying he was keen to move into his new room. He neglected to mention that it was a hotel room. He had placed a twenty mark note on the message, money that neither Bruno nor Emmi would otherwise have accepted. He didn’t want to be in the Wolters’s debt, not even for the telephone call he had made to book the taxi.

Thus he left as he had arrived, laden with a suitcase and a cardboard box.

An hour passed by before he made his way back to reception.

‘Ah, Herr Rath,’ said the concierge. ‘Good news! The key to your room…’ he fished it off the hook. ‘The previous guest has left. I arranged for it to be made up as soon as possible.’

‘Much obliged.’ Clearly the concierge was expecting some sort of tip for the extraordinary lengths he had gone to. Rath ignored him.

‘If you would be so kind as to take care of the formalities…’ The concierge pushed a registration form across the counter.

‘I’m sorry, but I have things to do. If we could take care of that at lunch…’ He placed the key on top of the form and passed both items back across the counter.

‘It’s not usually how we do things, but I’m sure we can make an exception for our regulars.’

He arrived late, but still before nine. He found a young woman at the desk in the outer office, playing languidly with her pen. Strands of blonde hair hung over her eyes, and a nose that was too big protruded over lips that were too thin. She leapt to her feet.

‘Erika Voss, Inspector,’ she said eagerly, proffering a hand. ‘I’m your new secretary!’

Rath hung his coat on the stand.

‘Did you work for Herr Roeder?’ he asked.

She shook her head. ‘I’m new here, Inspector.’

Who the hell had Zörgiebel sent him? She couldn’t have been more than twenty and exuded the unmistakeable scent of
eau de
cologne
. Charly smelt better. ‘I see. Well, it doesn’t matter. Has anyone called?’

‘No, Inspector. Is there anything I can do, Inspector?’

‘Do you know how to make coffee?’

She did, and soon there was a steaming hot mug on his desk. He had closed the door to the outer office, needing some quiet to think things through. As absurd as it might sound, it was time he resumed with current investigations. Erika Voss needed something to do; and he couldn’t let Gennat discover that he was chasing a phantom, that there was no
one
killer who had both Jänicke and Wilczek on his conscience.

It wasn’t long before his peace and quiet were disturbed by a commotion in the outer office. A loud voice. ‘I
must
speak with the inspector.’

Fräulein Voss was obviously trying to ward him off. There was a knock before she poked her blonde head through the door.

‘Inspector, there’s a Herr Roeder outside claiming this is his office…’

What did Roeder want here?

‘Send him in.’

Erika Voss nodded and waved Erwin Roeder through. Rath’s predecessor held his hat in his hand and gazed around the room. The man was smaller than Rath had expected.

‘Well, everything looks the same,’ he said. ‘Roeder,’ he said, stretching out his hand. ‘Erwin Roeder. I used to work here.’

‘Rath, Gereon Rath. What can I do for you, Herr Roeder?’

‘My departure from the police service came rather suddenly and I’ve had a lot to do in the last few weeks. Being an author is a very time-consuming business, you know, and…’

‘Please get to the point, Herr Roeder.’

‘I don’t know how long you’ve been here, but I can see your name’s already on the door. If you’ve moved your things into my desk I’m sure you’ll have found it by now.’

‘What?’ The man was beginning to get on his nerves.

‘I left a few photos in my desk that I’d like to pick up.’

Rath couldn’t remember there being any photos, but he hadn’t looked through the drawers particularly thoroughly.

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’

‘Could I just...’ Roeder took a step forward and made a move to open one of the desk drawers.

‘
Don’t you dare!
’ It came out sharper than Rath intended. Roeder looked at him indignantly.

‘This is
my
office now, and
my
desk,’ Rath continued, quieter now, but firmly. ‘I’d be happy to see if you’ve left anything behind, if you’d like me to.’

‘If you wouldn’t mind,’ Roeder said, gazing to the side like a slighted tenor. ‘The pictures should be in a black box.’

Rath rummaged quickly through the desk. In the upper drawer he found only his own things along with a few notes on the Wilczek case, pens and paper. However, a big surprise awaited him in the lower drawer. There was a big, heavy cardboard box as Roeder had said, and hidden behind it a small pistol. He wouldn’t have noticed it if he hadn’t been intending to lift the box out of the drawer.

It was a Lignose.

He knew straightaway which pistol it was, and rapidly deduced that Bruno was trying to frame him. He had probably realised the notebook was missing and drawn his own conclusions. If Rath already had the book, he only had to plant the gun on him and he could present Gennat with the perfect murder suspect.
If
we find the weapon, then we’ll find the killer
too
, Rath had said, and Wolter had gratefully seized upon the idea.

There was barely time to think. He removed the lid from the box, wrapped the pistol in a charge sheet from the drawer and slid it under a pile of photos. They weren’t personal photos; Rath could see they were the work of a professional as he hastily shoved a few on top of the pistol. Under different circumstances, the image lying on top might have coaxed a smile. It showed Roeder as a safe-breaker, complete with flat cap, fake moustache and blowtorch, wearing a grim look on his face. Instead Rath closed the lid and lifted the heavy box out of the drawer before Roeder noticed anything.

‘Is this what you’re looking for?’

Roeder nodded eagerly and took the box. Rath hoped in vain that he wouldn’t look inside.

‘May I?’ He lifted the lid and leafed through the glossy prints at the top. He seemed satisfied. ‘Very nice,’ he said. ‘Thank you.’ Roeder put his hat back on. ‘I must be going. Pressing engagements. Please see it to that A Division’s detection rate improves, young man. From what one hears, it currently leaves a lot to be desired.’

‘Goodbye, Herr Roeder.’ Rath couldn’t bear the man any longer. He ushered him past Erika Voss to the door, almost colliding with Ernst Gennat on the way. Buddha gazed at Roeder in surprise.

‘Well, I never, what are you still doing here? I hope you haven’t been arrested for murder!’

‘Don’t worry, Superintendent. That won’t be happening. This is the last time you’ll see me in these halls. Just wanted to get to know my successor. Adieu!’

Roeder wedged the box firmly under his arm and set off towards the stairwell.

‘Good morning, sir,’ Rath said. ‘Please come in.’

‘Good morning, Rath. I see your secretary is already here.’ Buddha tipped an imaginary hat. ‘Good morning, Fräulein Voss.’ He took Rath to one side. ‘I need to speak to you privately, Inspector.’

They went into Rath’s office.

When they reached the door Gennat turned for a second time. ‘Fräulein Voss, would you be so kind as to go to my office and ask Fräulein Steiner for the Jänicke file?’

He closed the door. ‘Just a precaution. Erika Voss has only been with us three weeks and is therefore still very curious, no doubt. Trudchen will keep her occupied for a while. As long as we have a little quiet here.’

‘Is it something confidential, sir?’

‘Strictly confidential.’ Gennat paused thoughtfully before continuing. ‘I won’t beat around the bush. I’ve just received an anonymous tip-off about the Jänicke case, a call in which a fearful suspicion was voiced.’

‘An anonymous tip-off. Since when do we take them seriously?’

‘That’s something you always have to weigh up, Inspector. In this case, the caller seemed so extraordinarily well informed that I’m afraid we have to take it seriously. He knew for example that we were missing Jänicke’s black notebook, and that the assistant detective was killed with a Lignose.’

‘What suspicion are you talking about?’

‘A fearful suspicion, which I can scarcely credit, but which I must investigate. Herr Rath, the caller claims that the pistol used to kill Stephan Jänicke belongs to you.’

‘That’s ridiculous!’

Rath had sensed it from the moment he had found the pistol in the drawer. Bruno had gone on the attack.

‘If this man is so well informed,’ he said, ‘then perhaps it was the murderer himself, trying to lead the police up the garden path.’

‘That’s what I suspect too, Herr Rath, but I have to be sure.’ Gennat cleared his throat. ‘Inspector, do you agree to let me carry out a search of your office?’

‘If you insist on it, sir, then of course.’

Rath felt a lump in his throat but didn’t swallow until Gennat got on the phone to ask for his men.

Of all people, it was Detective Paul Czerwinski and Assistant Detective Alfons Henning who came through the door minutes later, Plisch and Plum. Rath’s former colleagues were now doing Buddha’s legwork. Gennat didn’t let Rath out of his sight while the two men scoured his office. He stood at the window, smoking and looking out on the street below, doing a good job of feigning offence. Outside a train was emerging from the station, slowly picking up speed. In a few moments it would reach the windows of E Division. Would Bruno be observing the same train? What thoughts would be going through
his
head?

Plisch and Plum needed fewer than ten minutes, having also combed Erika Voss’s abandoned office.

‘Nothing, sir.’

Gennat nodded. ‘Good.’

He seemed genuinely delighted not to have to arrest Rath, but no wonder. A murdering cop was even worse than a murdered cop. Perhaps there was also some sympathy for his new colleague – even if Rath knew that had never stopped Gennat from handing his clients, as he affectionately knew them, over to his father at Plötzensee jail.

‘Good,’ Buddha said once more. ‘Then we just need to pay your flat a visit, and we’ll be done.’

Rath swallowed. His flat too.

‘I’ve just been given notice on my flat,’ he said. ‘I’m staying at a hotel.’

‘We’ll be discreet.’

Later, the four CID officers were standing in the foyer of the
Excelsior.
The concierge was terribly friendly.

‘Inspector, would you take care of the formalities now?’

‘Later. The key, please. I need my room for a little meeting.’