He laughed and walked on. Rath was too taken aback to think of a humorous response, but the man stopped.
‘Wait a minute,’ he said, ‘I’ve just remembered something. A young lady shuffled through this morning at the crack of dawn. She went past my window as I was getting up. She looked – what’s the word – helpless. Is it her you’re looking for?’
‘Helpless? Yes, could be.’ Charly’s condition sounded graver than he had feared. Perhaps Tornow had been telling the truth, and they had tried to make her talk by depriving her of sleep. ‘Where did you see her?’
‘Riemeisterstrasse. Where I live. Beside the U-Bahn station.’
‘Thank you.’
Rath shooed Kirie, who was upset not to be going further, back to the car, and drove to the estate that GEHAG had conjured out of nothing and, indeed, was still conjuring in places, if the piles of sand and planks outside the houses were anything to go by. Some of them still hadn’t been plastered and very few had mown lawns. On the corner of the road stood pines and beech trees, so high they must have been planted long before building work commenced. Rath parked outside the U-Bahn station. The cafe opposite clearly had airs, labelling itself a Conditorei.
He fetched the dog from the car, and no sooner did he have her on the lead than he felt a tug. Kirie had picked up a scent and was suddenly very animated, holding her nose close to the floor, sniffing intently and pulling Rath towards a modern brick portal that served as the entrance to the U-Bahn.
‘If this is another dead animal!’ Rath said.
Kirie took no notice, but dragged him down the steps to the platform. Rath had to watch he didn’t take a tumble.
She was lying huddled on a bench. Charly in her flowery, summer dress.
The other passengers barely took any notice, and those who did were more disdainful than compassionate. It was her, though. Kirie must have sniffed her from upstairs.
She had made it to the U-Bahn, only to fall asleep while waiting for the next train and the citizens of Berlin, accustomed to going their own way and never interfering, had let her sleep. Not even the noise of the nearby construction site had wakened her, in contrast with Kirie’s tongue.
Charly opened her eyes, just a little at first, then wide with fear as she gazed into the face of the smiling, black dog. She sat up and recognised first Kirie, then Rath, who was standing alongside. She smiled blissfully and wrapped her arms around his legs, on the point of sleep again. ‘I have a ticket,’ she mumbled.
‘We’re taking the car.’ He didn’t know whether to laugh or cry. ‘You just have to walk a few metres.’
That proved trickier than anticipated. Rath provided support, and Charly made every effort, but her circulation was so restricted that she had to pause repeatedly, above all when climbing the stairs.
‘Come on,’ Rath said. ‘The car’s just up here, you’re almost there. You made it from the wood to the station!’
‘That was before I fell asleep. Sleeping makes you tired.’
Rath debated whether he should get her a Turkish coffee from the cafe opposite, but decided against. Get her in the car, quick-sharp. He bundled her onto the seat and she was asleep again before he started the engine.
At Spenerstrasse he carried her over the threshold, otherwise he’d have had to leave her sleeping in the car. She lay soft and light in his arms as he bore her up the stairs. The hardest thing was turning the key in the lock, but he managed that too. He kicked the front door shut and carried her into the bedroom, laid her on the bed and undressed her as best he could. As he put the covers over her the doorbell rang. It was just before eleven.
He left Kirie with Charly and went into the hallway, took the Walther from its holster on the hall stand and reloaded. He crept towards the door, keeping close to the wall in case the person outside decided to blast their way in. He placed his hand on the handle and with a jolt, threw the door open, taking aim at the intruder.
A small man looked like he was about to collapse out of fear. Rath lowered his weapon. It took a while for the little man to calm down. ‘Maltritz,’ he said at last. It sounded like an apology. ‘I’m the buildings manager here.’
‘Please excuse me, Herr Maltritz,’ Rath said. ‘But I thought…’
‘What did you think?’
‘There was a break-in here a few days a go, which is why I’m on my guard. I’m a friend of Fräulein Ritter,’ he said, ‘and a police officer.’
He showed his identification, but the little man seemed unimpressed.
‘Where is Fräulein Ritter?’
‘Not at home, which I can understand, after everything that’s happened. The break-in, I mean.’
‘She really isn’t here? I heard footsteps on the stairs just now.’
‘Footsteps? Well, that must have been me.’
‘You alone?’
‘Me and my dog,’ Rath said. ‘What business is that of yours, if I might ask?’
‘Fräulein Ritter is behind on her rent. She said she would have the money by yesterday evening. Only, yesterday evening she wasn’t home.’
Rath remembered how Charly had asked him for a loan. No wonder he had forgotten, after everything that had happened. How they could use Alex’s hundred and fifty marks now.
‘You’ll get your money, Herr Maltritz. Fräulein Ritter has… ah… asked me to settle up.’
‘Good,’ Maltritz said, looking expectantly.
‘What is it?’
‘I’m waiting for the money.’
‘I don’t have it for you now.’
‘Listen: go tell your cock and bull story to some kids. Maybe they’ll believe it, but I will not be taken for a fool. Wherever Fräulein Ritter is hiding, whether it’s in this flat or somewhere else, please let her know that Hans Maltritz is not to be messed with.’ He placed his hands on his hips. ‘I don’t care who pays, whether it’s you, Fräulein Ritter, or your monkey’s uncle, but if I don’t have twelve marks fifty by tonight you’ll see a different side to me. You wouldn’t believe how quickly I can get hold of an eviction order.’
Twelve fifty! What a ridiculous sum to make such a fuss about! ‘Don’t do anything rash,’ Rath said. ‘You’ll have your money. I’ll go to the bank later today.’
‘Are you being funny with me?’
‘Nothing could be further from my mind.’
‘Then you obviously haven’t seen the papers. You won’t be getting any money at the bank. I hope you’ve got another source of capital.’ He looked Rath up and down. ‘I don’t care how you get it. Just make sure you do!’
Once the man had gone downstairs, Rath looked out his copy of the Vossische Zeitung, bought to rub the Goldstein article in Tornow’s face.
It was a different story that had made the front page: a German banking crisis. He skimmed the article and continued flicking through the paper. The stupid buildings manager was right, getting money from the bank today would be impossible.
The Danatbank had hit the skids over the weekend and could no longer pay out to its customers. The Darmstädter and Nationalbank! But that was a perfectly reputable enterprise. Rath had his money elsewhere, in a postal giro account, though things didn’t look too rosy for the other banks either. Fearing for their deposits, an onslaught of customers had attempted to withdraw cash, causing most banks to close their counters – only increasing the sense of panic. Rath felt himself worrying about the few thousand marks he had set aside for a rainy day. As if he didn’t have enough on his plate already.
The Danatbank had been so badly hit that the government had been forced to guarantee all deposits. ‘Aunt Voss’, as the Vossische was known, wrote that following discussions with the government, all other major German banks have declared that they view any government guarantees as superfluous, that they are fully solvent and capable of meeting all demands.