The neon letters on the Plaza façade burned brighter than the dim gaslights around Küstriner Platz. Rath found a space near the entrance and parked the Buick. Charly smiled when she realised where he was taking her. He hadn’t revealed their destination even as they journeyed ever deeper into the forbidding Stralau quarter.
Rath was relieved, she seemed to like variety theatre. He didn’t have happy memories of the Plaza, and not just because of the indifferent programme with which the theatre had opened the year before. The complex had been built inside the station concourse of the former Ostbahnhof, whose goods station, in contrast to the passenger terminus, was still in use. It was here, in an unprepossessing warehouse, that Johann Marlow had his office: a room seemingly lifted straight from an English country house, complete with fireplace. It was less than a year since he had met Marlow here for the first time, the secret ruler of the Berlin underworld, the only Berlin underworld kingpin yet to see prison from the inside. Rath often thought about that night, which had ended with a dead man who, to this day, still haunted his dreams.
He didn’t want to have to go through anything like that again, but Charly made him feel like a different man. Not the man from that night, but the Gereon Rath currently strolling across Küstriner Platz with a beautiful woman at his side.
As they entered the foyer he gazed round instinctively. Marlow probably wasn’t here, but was almost certainly having him watched. Rath didn’t see any familiar faces, but then he didn’t know all of Marlow’s people. Not by a long shot.
‘Are you looking for someone?’ Charly asked.
‘Just the box office. Ah, there it is.’
They took their places at the back of the queue. Rath was a trifle nervous, but when he gave his name to the cashier it transpired that Marlow had set aside two box tickets for him.
Charly was astonished, but Rath behaved as if acquiring box seats for Charlotte Ritter was the least he could do. Hopefully, the programme would be better than last year. In truth, he was no fan of variety theatre but Charly seemed to like the idea. In the cloakroom queue, she recounted how she had once been at the Wintergarten with her family to celebrate the end of her school exams. ‘The first student in the family.’
Although Plaza wasn’t quite as glamorous as the Wintergarten, box seats weren’t exactly cheap. Gradually they advanced towards the cloakroom attendant. Rath wanted to take Charly’s coat, but she refused. ‘If you want to play the gentleman I can think of better ways.’
‘Such as?’
‘All in good time.’
‘Very well. A gentleman never tells.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ At last it came to their turn. ‘What’s the latest news at the Castle?’ she asked.
Rath told her about Krempin’s death, neglecting to mention that he had been an eyewitness.
‘You think he couldn’t cope with the pressure? A murder on his conscience, the whole city looking for him?’
‘I was in Wilmersdorf almost all day working on the Vivian Franck case. Let’s see what Böhm says at briefing tomorrow morning.’
‘I do miss it sometimes,’ she said. ‘I’ll be glad when I have these stupid finals behind me.’
‘Will you come back to Alex?’
‘Even if I didn’t enjoy the work, I’d still come back. Out of necessity. A girl’s got to live.’
‘And it’s that easy? You can come back whenever it suits you?’
‘That’s what Böhm promised, and he’s a man you can rely on.’
Rath said nothing. There’d have only been trouble otherwise. There was always trouble when they discussed Böhm.
Both of the other seats in their box remained empty. Marlow really had pulled out all the stops. Even if he didn’t actually own the theatre he obviously held considerable sway. The view from up here was outstanding.
‘Strange,’ Charly said as she peeped over the balustrade, watching the stalls fill. ‘Looks like it’ll just be the two of us. Tell me you didn’t arrange this? Book a whole box to seduce a defenceless girl!’
‘Certainly did,’ he said and laughed. ‘You know me.’
‘Quite.’
She looked at him with her dark eyes. He couldn’t avert his gaze, but she didn’t look away either.
Oh God, he thought, drawing gradually closer to her suddenly ever-so-serious face. He felt her breath and closed his eyes, tasting her soft lips as she surrendered to him open-mouthed and he took off and flew and flew, before landing, after what seemed like half an eternity, back in the box.
They gazed at each other as if they had awoken from a dream. ‘God, I’ve missed you!’ he said, stroking her cheek.
‘I don’t know if this is a good idea, Gereon,’ she said.
‘You mustn’t think I wanted this – that is, of course I wanted it, I mean, you mustn’t think I planned it…that I’m only going out with you to…’
She pressed a finger to his lips with a soft ‘shhhhhhhh’ and smiled, revealing her dimple.
‘Don’t talk so much,’ she said, kissing him again. It took them some time to realise the bill had long since begun.
‘This is all wrong,’ Rath said. ‘Normally you watch the show together, eat and drink something, maybe go dancing, and only then do you kiss. On the way home, just before you decide who’s sleeping where.’
‘Then we need to rearrange ourselves,’ she said. ‘The tickets must have cost a fortune and we’ve barely seen half the show.’
‘What do you mean, barely half? I haven’t seen anything at all.’
‘That’s even worse.’
‘So where do we go from here?’
‘How about we watch and applaud? Then we’ll see.’
‘Rearrange ourselves it is.’
She looked on at the show, and he looked on at her looking on at the show, which was better than last year’s. Less glamour, perhaps, but more to laugh about, and people who lived in this part of town needed that. Rath didn’t get a single one of the punchlines but laughed along with Charly and the rest in all the right places. How he loved seeing her laugh.
The closer the interval came, the more he found himself thinking about Marlow. He still didn’t know how he would steal himself away without Charly noticing.
At length the curtain fell for the interval and she linked arms with him as they went downstairs to the foyer. Rath could see neither Marlow nor Liang anywhere in the crowd but knew that Dr M. would keep his appointment. He wouldn’t have taken care of the tickets otherwise.
‘What are you looking for this time?’ Charly asked.
‘I’m just wondering if we can still get a seat at the bar.’
But it was hopeless. They were all taken.
‘That ought to answer your question,’ Charly said. ‘Now what?’
‘I’ll get us something to drink all the same.’
‘Then do your gentlemanly duty. I need to go to the little girls’ room anyway.’
She started towards the toilets. When she had gone a few steps, however, she turned around.
‘Food as well,’ she called to him. ‘I could eat a horse.’
Once she was out of sight Rath looked again for Marlow, but he was at neither the bar nor one of the little tables, and Rath could scarcely imagine him standing in line for sticky champagne.
‘Inspector Rath?’
It was a slim man in a fitted suit. He wore no dinner jacket and looked more like a businessman than a theatregoer.
‘That’s me,’ Rath said.
‘Herr Marlow sends his apologies. He’s running a little late.’
Rath couldn’t remember having seen the man in Marlow’s entourage before. ‘But he still wants to meet?’
‘Of course.’
‘Listen, I’ve got company here. There’s no need for the lady to know I have a meeting, or who it’s with. I’m sure that’s in accordance with Herr Marlow’s wishes too.’
‘Herr Marlow sets great store by discretion.’
‘Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to order food, as well as something to drink.’
‘It would be Herr Marlow’s honour. I’ll have something sent up.’
The man disappeared before Rath could say anything. He was about to call after him when he saw Charly’s green dress. It seemed the queue for the Ladies was shorter than that for the bar.
‘Who was that?’ she asked.
‘The man just then? Someone from the house.’
‘He didn’t look like a waiter.’
‘He wasn’t. It’s taking far too long to get a drink, so I complained.’
Rath took his place at the back of the queue for the bar but when he finally got hold of two glasses of champagne the interval was almost over. He raised his shoulders as he handed Charly a glass, and she smiled at him.
‘Let’s go then,’ he said. They clinked glasses and drank, before making their way hurriedly back to their seats, losing some of the champagne in the process.
‘What a shame,’ she said. ‘We won’t get anything else for over an hour.’
‘Next time I’ll get a bottle.’
The first act had already started by the time they returned to their seats. A man in a turban speaking in Saxon dialect was telling people how old they were and what job they had despite having his eyes blindfolded, while his assistant moved around the stalls holding up the identity papers of their victims. The Saxon fakir was taking his bow when there was a polite knock and two friendly waiters wheeled in a large trolley. Charly’s eyes widened in delight as they laid out the spoils: half a dozen bowls and plates, and a bottle of champagne enthroned, centre stage, in a cooler.
‘So that’s what you were discussing. And there was I thinking a glass of champagne was all I’d be getting.’
Praise be to Marlow, Rath thought. ‘I hope it’s to your liking.’
Marlow’s errand boy had put together a nice mix, just the thing for a cosy evening alone with a hungry woman. There were lovingly prepared canapés, roast beef, smoked salmon, a cheese plate, devilled eggs and even a little caviar.
Charly really did seem to be hungry, loading her plate in a most unladylike manner. Rath was a little more restrained, though pleased at her appetite. He had just poured them another glass of champagne when there was a second knock. The man in the grey suit poked his head around the door. ‘Everything to your satisfaction?’
‘Yes, thank you,’ Rath said, and Charly nodded with her mouth full.
The man leaned towards Rath and whispered: ‘Herr Marlow will see you now.’ Given the orchestra in the background, there was no chance Charly could’ve picked up the name.
‘Telephone,’ Rath said, apologetically. ‘The Castle. You know how it is.’
‘Well, let’s hope it’s not an operation.’
‘Statistically speaking, A Division’s death quota has already been achieved this week.’
Rath followed the suit downstairs. A single patron sat at the deserted bar, a powerful yet lithe-seeming man in an elegant dinner jacket who had just lit a cigar and was sipping occasionally at his whisky, gazing absently into the mirror in front of him. Still, Rath was certain nothing in this room escaped those eyes. Johann Marlow hadn’t even brought his Chinese shadow, so safe did he feel here. It was almost as if he took a drink at the bar most days after work. Rath sat on the stool beside him.
‘Good evening, Inspector. I hope you haven’t been too bored.’
‘I’ve been very well looked after.’ Rath took his new cigarette case from his pocket and lit an Overstolz. ‘I’m afraid I can’t leave my companion for very long; she thinks I’m taking a call from the station.’
‘We’ll be finished by the time you’ve smoked your cigarette.’
‘What have you discovered?’
‘There was a case where an actress was abducted on behalf of the competition. A man named Steger was responsible, a piece of shit from the Nordpiraten, together with a friend. They kept the poor woman hidden in a cellar for two weeks and had their fun with her. She was no good for film after that, a nervous wreck. They even made a few cuts to her face for good measure.’
‘There are some lousy bastards out there.’
‘A thing like that goes against the code of honour. The Nordpiraten ended up cancelling this Steger’s membership, even though he’s a passable safe-breaker. The pressure from the other Ringvereine was simply too great. Since then, the guy’s had to make do on his own.’
‘Doesn’t sound like he’s the one. Vivian Franck only had her vocal cords cut. Her face was intact when she was found, made up in fact. And she wasn’t raped.’
‘You’re right, it wasn’t him. My people have already paid him a little visit. If he was the one you’d have been able to take him back to Alex all nicely wrapped.’
‘Hardly. I’m here privately.’
‘Nevertheless, I’m sorry I couldn’t help you this time.’
‘You’ve helped me more than enough already.’
‘Come now, Inspector. I’m indebted to you, just as you are to me. You just don’t want to admit it. I can understand why you don’t want to be seen with me in public, but don’t worry, that’s not going to happen.’
‘That’s me reassured. You mean you won’t be visiting me tomorrow in my office?’
‘I have never once tried to tap your professional connections for my own ends…’
‘You wouldn’t get anywhere if you did.’
‘…but I live by the motto that one hand washes the other. The time will come when I ask for a favour, and you won’t turn me down.’ Marlow’s voice was suddenly cold.
‘Don’t be so sure. I certainly won’t be divulging any police secrets.’
‘Inspector, don’t pretend you don’t have any skeletons in your closet. Or should I say: encased in concrete!’
Rath felt as if Marlow had rammed his fist into his stomach. ‘I’m afraid I don’t follow.’
‘No? Allow me to be more plain.’ Marlow blew a cloud of smoke across the bar. ‘I know it was you who killed Josef Wilczek.’
Rath tried not to betray any emotion. ‘Why are you being so friendly to me if I eliminated one of your men?’
‘Luckily for you, only two people know about it, otherwise I’d have had no choice but to take action. I can’t allow someone to gun down one of my men and get away with it, even a police officer.’
‘I didn’t gun anyone down; someone’s been talking nonsense.’
‘I have something else for you. My people came across something that might be of interest. Deutsche Kraft have got their paws on a film company. It’s called Borussia and is based over at Weissensee.’
‘Thanks, but right now I’m not interested in whether a Ringverein is involved in the film industry.’
‘Oh, I think you will be,’ Marlow said sharply. ‘Pass the tip on to your colleagues. There’s bound to be something in it for you. Otherwise Kraft wouldn’t be involved.’
‘We’ll see.’ Rath took a final draw on his cigarette and stubbed it out. ‘Time to go. Thanks for your help.’
‘Anytime,’ Marlow smiled.
There was no escort for the return journey. The suit remained at the bar. As he climbed the steps, Rath could feel his body slowly relaxing.
Marlow knew.
Someone had seen how Josef Wilczek had died. Rath recalled the beer bottle shattering against the courtyard paving, and the window that had slammed shut after the shot was fired from his service weapon. In the Stralau quarter no one went to the police with information like that. They went to Johann Marlow, who knew how to make capital from it. Pass the tip on to your colleagues. That was an order, not a good turn. Dr M. wanted to pull one over on the competition.
Rath cursed the day he had met Johann Marlow. Suddenly tonight, with all its fake lustre, seemed worthless, poisoned and dirty: the box seats, the food, the champagne.
At least Charly hadn’t noticed anything. ‘Well?’ she asked. He had been away less than ten minutes.
‘Lange,’ he said. ‘Nothing important.’ The assistant detective from Hannover was the only person in A Division Charly didn’t know. ‘I had to remind him that he needn’t call me about every last thing.’
‘What do you mean, nothing important?’ She could be damn stubborn.
‘About the duty roster.’ He waved a hand dismissively. ‘Completely unimportant. Come on, we’ve spoken too much about work already this evening.’
‘Let’s talk about us then.’
‘How about a drink first?’ he said, filling their glasses again before drinking her health.
‘With a proper toast!’ She raised her glass. ‘Let’s drink to the fact that we’ve been together for more than two hours without having a single fight.’
They managed not to fight for the rest of the evening too, but the magic had passed and Rath was no longer entirely there. While she followed what was happening onstage, clearing enjoying the box seats, he couldn’t tear his thoughts away from the conversation with Marlow. He was still in shock that someone knew, and that it was Marlow of all people.
He had felt that he was being watched during the struggle with Wilczek, but there was no way his face had been visible in the dark rear courtyard. Absolutely no way! Someone had seen the fatal shot and the body being buried in the concrete, and then told Marlow, who must have figured out the rest. Because he had discovered in the meantime that Wilczek had followed the inspector from Ostbahnhof that evening.
Charly turned to face him. ‘Hello, anyone there?’
‘Sorry, I’ve just got so much on my mind…’
‘Me too.’ She smiled and her dimple finally hauled him back to the present. ‘Today was something of a surprise, wasn’t it?’
‘You can say that again.’ He tried a smile too, but didn’t manage half as well. ‘Come on, let’s go to the car.’
‘Can you still drive?’
‘All the better after a glass or two.’
She linked her arm in his again and they descended the stairs in silence, mingling with the other three thousand leaving the theatre.
When they emerged onto Küstriner Platz, the parking lot was bedlam. Some cars had had their wheels removed and were now resting on bricks, looking like clumsy insects on spindly little legs. They moved along the row, passing one wheelless car after another.
‘That’s all we need,’ Rath said, but the tyre thieves hadn’t made it as far as the Buick. They had stopped at the car next to it, a Horch. This time, however, they had taken only the rear wheels and jacked up the bumper.
‘They must have been interrupted,’ Charly said. ‘A patrol probably.’
Rath shook his head and gestured towards the square. ‘The police don’t have much say in this quarter. There must be another reason.’
He persuaded himself it was coincidence that the car thieves had stopped exactly in front of his Buick, but his gut told him that he had Johann Marlow’s protective hand to thank for not having to take the train home.
On the journey west both were immersed in their own thoughts. Only an hour before, Rath would have done anything to prevent the evening from ending so soon, but now all he wanted was to be alone in the silence of his flat with Coleman Hawkins and a glass of cognac. He drove her straight to Spenerstrasse and accompanied her to the door, not knowing how he should say goodbye. ‘So, what now?’ he asked.
She shrugged.
‘Sunday’s supposed to be nice. We could take a drive out to the countryside if you like.’ She nodded. ‘I could pick you up in the car. Then perhaps we could…’
This time she didn’t press a finger to his lips to silence him. She kissed him.