Deathly tired, Rath finally dragged himself up the stairs at Luisenufer. With Gennat’s blessing he had intensified the search for the fugitive Krempin and, tomorrow, every police station in Berlin would receive a picture of the man. ED were still in the lab, duplicating a cutting of Bellmann’s Christmas party photo. Felix Krempin had disappeared. Whatever motive there might have been to drop a heavy spotlight on a dainty actress, the production manager clearly had it.
In this light, Bellmann’s suspicions were plausible, even if his priority was most likely making trouble for Montana Film. Rath glanced at the time: half past twelve. He wouldn’t get much sleep now, as he wanted to be at Montana as early as possible tomorrow, ready for action. His keys were in his hand when he remembered that Kathi would be waiting for him.
Suddenly time was frozen.
He couldn’t get into bed as if nothing had happened. For a moment he considered turning on his heel, driving out to Schlesisches Tor and spending the night on Gräf’s sofa. Instead he cursed his own cowardice and turned the key in the lock, surprised at how loud it was. He pulled the door quietly shut and crept through the hall without turning on the light. Closing the living room door behind him, he groped towards the chair, reaching for the switch on the standard lamp. One click and it cast its dim light around the room. He laid his hat and coat over the second chair. She had cleared away the glasses, but the bottle of cognac was still on the table. Rath fetched a new glass from the cupboard, sat in his chair and poured.
You’re such a fool, he thought, creeping around like a burglar, like a stranger in your own home. He washed the thought down with cognac and poured another. He wouldn’t go through to her until he’d had enough.
Hazy and blurred in the warm, yellow island of light gleaming in the window pane, he lifted the glass to his reflection. The only company he could stand right now. ‘Cheers!’ he said drowsily…
He gave a start; had he been asleep or merely nodded off? His mouth tasted like a wrung-out cleaning rag and his glass was on the carpet next to the chair. Luckily he had drained it already.
Only now did he realise how much he must have had to drink. He needed a glass of water. In the kitchen he fetched a glass from the cupboard and held it under the tap, allowing the cold water to pour over his hands. It felt good. He drank and held the glass under the tap again.
He didn’t see the note until he was heading back to the door. Lying in the middle of the table was a little sheet of paper from the spiral-bound notebook she used to make her shopping lists.
Sorry, darling, he read, and felt his stomach cramping at the words, but I just couldn’t stand it any longer. I feel so alone in this flat when you’re not here. It really isn’t easy loving a policeman, but I’ve almost got used to it. Almost. Seems like today just wasn’t meant to be. I’ve called for a taxi and gone to my sister, she needs someone to comfort.
We’ll see each other at the ball tomorrow. I’ll try to be at yours by half past six, then we could go together.
With love
Kathi.
P.S. There’s some stew left on the stove. Remember it tastes best when it’s hot.
Rath placed the note back on the table.
On the one hand, he felt relief. On the other, now that he knew she was no longer in the flat, he was overcome by a loneliness that pained him almost physically. He was freezing, even though she had left the heating on. Only moments ago he had been trying to avoid her, seeking refuge in cognac, and would’ve sooner wished her in hell. Now he felt her absence like a stabbing pain to the heart.
At least he could go to bed, but was that what he really wanted? All of a sudden, he felt choked by a dreadful fear. The night wasn’t over yet; it had only just begun.
He went back into the living room, put on a Coleman Hawkins record and opened the bottle again.