Berlin: A Novel

Marlene Kaschke was absolutely delighted. A motorboat on the Havel? You bet I'll come. And I've just bought a fabulous sky-blue Bleyle too! The latest style, with a little skirt and a low-cut back. You can get them in all colours at Leineweber's.'

'Your name is Marion, if you don't mind, and you're an old friend of mine. You must call me Detta.'

'If that's all, you're welcome.'

'See you Saturday, then. I'll get my convertible out of the garage, and knock on your door at seven-thirty.'

'Us two lovelies in an open car? This gets better and better.' Marlene went on painting her nails.

She tried further afield on Friday. There were some cinemas in Steglitz and Zehlendorf. The Onkel Tom cinema was last on her list. 'One of our girls got married. We're looking for a replacement; the manager told her. 'But it's Herr Star, the owner, who makes the decisions. Come back on Monday.' He let her watch the documentary, the newsreel and a film with Hans Albers for free. On the way home she bought some fruit and took a couple of magazines up to her room with her. Her landlady knocked on her door at around nine. 'Visitor for you, Fraulein Kaschke.'

It was Fredie. 'I'll help you pack,' he offered with a winning smile. 'Thank you very much, Frau Wolke.' He closed the door.

Marlene tried to stay calm. 'How did you get here?'

'I found the note with your Herr Giese's address under the table. Rather incautious of you, my love. Herr Giese was not very forthcoming at first and wouldn't tell me where to find you. He was more talkative down in the chat room. Hurry up, will you?'

'I'm not coming with you. Even if you kill me.'

'Who said anything about killing you? I need a wife who is alive, and plays her part willingly and convincingly. My career depends on it.'

'I couldn't care less about your career.'

'Or your Herr Giese either?'

'What's going to happen to Franz?'

'Very soon nothing will ever happen to him again, if you don't play along. We've taken him in. As I said before, he was willing to give us the information after a while.'

'Where is he?'

'In Prinz-Albrecht-Strasse. Want to see him?' She nodded in silence. He closed her suitcase. Down below, a black limousine was waiting with an SS man at the wheel and a man in a leather coat in the front beside him. Fredie helped her into the car and put the suitcase in.

She saw Franz Giese through a peephole in the cellar door. Her heart constricted. They had tied him to a post. His shirt was in tatters, his face disfigured by blows. The SS man in front of him raised a hissing blowtorch.

'Franz…' Her voice was toneless.

'That Socialist would confess to being Stalin's father-in-law if we wanted. They all talk in the chat room. So how about it?'

'Let him go. I'll stay with you.'

'Very sensible, my dear.' Fredie opened the door a crack and called, 'Take him home. The case is closed.' The SS man untied Giese and helped him into his jacket.

On the way home Fredie was kindness itself. 'I've put champagne on ice. And we have a few delicate little canapes to go with it. I'm so glad you're coming back to me.' It was grotesque.

'So what are we celebrating?' she asked without interest.

'I'll tell you when we get home.'

Three-quarters of an hour later they had reached the Kleiner Wannsee. The men saluted. 'Good evening, ma'am. Heil Hitler, Herr Obersturm- bannfiihrer.'

'Do I congratulate you on yet another promotion?'

Fredie poured champagne. Among other things. Cheers.' Elated, he raised his glass. 'They've appointed Noack head of the Berlin Gestapo. He's shown himself grateful for certain operations I've carried out for him. I'm being made commandant of Blumenau. Orders from on high: the commandant must be happily married.'

'Happily married,' she repeated, remembering Franz Giese's clumsy declaration of love. She would never see him again, and then they would leave him in peace. His injured face would heal. It would smile for another woman some day. The haulage business would flourish. There'd be children. 'Back to the same old round,' she said sadly.

'What do you mean?'

'I mean I'll go along with you. You'll be satisfied. And if anything should happen to Franz Giese I'll make such a shocking scandal that your career will be ruined.'

'You know something? I actually believe you.'

Marlene sipped from her glass. 'Blumenau, did you say? Never heard of it.'

The Mercedes drove through the tall gates. Bronze swastikas were worked into the wrought-iron grille of the gate, and beds of begonias in lines that could have been drawn with a ruler bordered the drive. They drew up on the white gravel outside the house, which had a red, twin-gabled roof and welcoming green shutters. Over the door, picked out in marguerite daisies, were the words: WELCOME TO BLUMENAU.

Fredie helped Marlene out of the car. He was wearing his new dove-grey uniform with the insignia of an SS Security Service Obersturmbannfiihrer. A girl in a striped dress and apron was waiting on the steps, holding a bunch of tulips. She had spiky black hair and kept her eyes lowered.

'This is your housemaid Jana,' Fredie introduced her. 'If you need more domestic staff, let me know. I don't want the housekeeping to be a burden on you.'

He had been acting in a very civilized way these last few days. It was probably to do with his new post. If only this goes on, she thought hopefully. Jana held the flowers out to her. 'Thank you, how nice.' She took the bouquet. 'I'm sure you know where we can find a vase.' She used the polite Sie pronoun to address the girl.

'Jana is nineteen and used to being called du,' her husband corrected her. 'I have to go for a meeting in the office building now. It's over there.' He pointed to the tall, impenetrable yew hedge and a grey, corrugated-iron roof just above it. 'Jana will show you the house. We are expecting a few of my staff to dinner this evening. Don't worry, the girl can cook.' He moved quickly away over the crunching gravel.

'Shall we go in, Jana?' The driver had put her cases in the yellow-tiled hall. 'Show me the kitchen first.'

'Yes, Frau Obersturmbannf.ihrer.' Jana stumbled over the pronunciation of the long title.

'You just forget about all that!' Marlene told her firmly. 'I'm Frau Neubert, right?'

'Yes, Frau Ober… Frau Neubert.'

'Good. Now for the kitchen.'

'Yes, Frau Neubert.'

Blue and white tiles on the floor and walls, a black, cast-iron coalburning stove with shiny brass fittings, a large fridge made of white wood and lined with zinc. It had a nickel-plated tap at the front to drain off the melted ice water. A pantry beside the cellar steps.

The dining room next to it and the living room contained the familiar, pale-wood furniture from the Kleiner Wannsee house. Upstairs there were three bedrooms and two bathrooms. From up here you had a view of old fruit trees and a neatly raked lawn. A wall covered with climbing roses divided the garden from the road. It was a spacious and idyllic property.

'1 think I shall like this place. Have you been here long, Jana?'

'One year five months.'

And before that?'

'Everywhere.' Jana couldn't be induced to say more.

Marlene's neighbour at table was a thin man in his mid-thirties with dark hair and, despite careful shaving, a trace of five o'clock shadow. 'Our medicine man, Sturmbannfiihrer Dr Alwin Engel.' Fredie had introduced him. Marlene found him interesting, because he talked about literature. He had read Erwin Kastner, which gave her an opportunity to show off her own knowledge. 'His children's books are little masterpieces. More for adults really, don't you agree?'

Engel didn't seem to have heard her. He was watching Jana as she brought in the starter: smoked herring fillets on lettuce, with grated horseradish. He took hold of the girl's chin and turned her face to him as she served him. 'What pretty black eyes you have,' he said, smiling. Jana vanished into the kitchen. 'Purely professional interest,' he said apologetically.