Her name! He heard them call her name. Even though they closed the door immediately behind them.
Betty Winter!
He is left speechless and slumps onto the chair next to the door. He supports his head in his hands and closes his eyes, almost dragging the guard to the floor in the process.
‘Quickly, Lensing, call the doctor,’ the officer says, holding Marquard’s arm with such force it’s as if handcuffs alone aren’t enough. The man crouches beside him while his colleague goes to the telephone; the handcuffs that bind them together leave him no choice.
The police officers inside are speaking loudly, he can understand almost everything. He has closed his eyes and is concentrating on each individual word.
You want things to end up like they did with Betty Winter? the brawny officer cried, and the fat one said something in reply.
Now the brawny one is speaking again. Victor Meisner has been given advance warning thanks to Rath, he heard him grumble. He isn’t going to confess to anything now! The way he stood there at his wife’s grave this morning, acting the grieving widower…disgusting! As if he knew very well we couldn’t prove he killed his wife. You really want Rath to mess things up with Marquard too?
Again the fat man says something he doesn’t understand, but it doesn’t matter now.
He has heard enough.
He knows what he must do, and opens his eyes.
He is already dead and they still haven’t realised. Meanwhile there is another man in this city who doesn’t realise that he, too, is already dead.
He sits up again.
‘Seems like he’s feeling better. Should I still call for a doctor?’
‘You’re right. Let’s not go overboard. In a quarter of an hour we’ll be in Moabit, he’s being examined there anyway.’