‘Of course, I will. Tell me.’
Tornow gave a forced smile. ‘Actually I’m not sure I want to tell it.’
‘It’s up to you.’
‘Alright, then.’ Tornow cleared his throat. ‘It was more than seven years ago and, damn it, Luise was the prettiest girl in the world.’
‘Was?’
‘She isn’t dead,’ Tornow said. There was a pain in his expression that Rath hadn’t seen before. He was usually so upbeat. ‘But perhaps it would be better if she was.’
Rath didn’t probe further. He let Tornow talk.
‘We lived with my parents in Teltow, a small town to the southwest of Berlin, and our own little suburban idyll, or so we thought. One day, in this suburban idyll, my sister – she was fifteen at the time – saw two men climb through a window into a warehouse. She called the police, but when they arrived all they found was the broken window. Shortly afterwards, two men fitting their description were arrested. Luise had got a pretty good view of them, and had no trouble identifying them when they brought her to the station.’
Tornow paused, as if needing to gather his strength.
‘The whole family was at the trial, even Father took the morning off. We were proud of Luise who had shown courage, and refused to be intimidated. She made her statement in court. The lawyer for the defence was from Berlin, an expensive type. Unaffordable, really, but the two intruders were members of a Ringverein. Anyway, this lawyer spoke very kindly to Luise, and asked her to read a letter, which he passed across. She couldn’t; she needed glasses to read. Glasses which she seldom wore – you know how girls are. By the end, the lawyer had made it seem as though she were half-blind. On top of that, he dredged up a few old stories that painted her as a busybody driven by a desire to be the centre of attention. Even being class president was used against her. The piece of shit. My parents, myself and my brother, had to sit and watch how this brave girl, who had only acted out of a sense of public duty, was suddenly turned into a short-sighted, busybody little brat willing to send two innocent men to jail. At the end, the lawyer presented the judge with a watertight alibi for both his clients, so that the pair, who had plenty of prior convictions, were acquitted.’
‘That sort of thing happens all too often,’ said Rath. ‘Justice becomes a question of money, and the person who can afford the best lawyer is usually the winner.’
‘We sat in disbelief,’ Tornow said. ‘My sister put on a brave face, but I could see she was close to tears. No wonder, given that this lawyer had publicly humiliated her, and not just in front of her family, but half the town. A number of Teltow residents had made the journey to the District Court, and they were all witnesses to her humiliation.’
‘I understand.’
‘No,’ Tornow said, so gruffly that Rath was taken aback. ‘You don’t. The story isn’t over yet.’ His voice was less sharp now. ‘Life went on after the trial, but things were never the same. We had lost faith in the state and its judiciary. And then… Luise came home one day and said that she’d seen one of the men on her way to school. No one believed her, either in town or in school because, by now, she was just some half-blind busybody. We were the only ones who took her seriously, but our insistence at school and with the police got us nowhere. Then…’ He had to swallow before continuing. ‘…then one afternoon just before the summer holiday – I still remember how hot it was – she didn’t come home. We looked for her everywhere, but eventually it was a walker who found her lying beaten half to death in the Hollandwiese, clothes ripped to shreds and blood all over her body. She hasn’t spoken a word since that day, but we know who’s responsible. The two men who ruined my sister’s life.’
‘How is she now?’
‘She hasn’t said a word for seven years, and no longer leaves the house. How do you think she is? She’s a walking corpse.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Rath said. ‘It’s a dreadful story.’
‘She’s the reason I became a police officer. My sister, Luise Tornow.’
Rath couldn’t help feeling guilty. He was one of those who didn’t shy away from working with criminals, with Marlow and his Ringverein. Only today he had given a colleague what for, more or less at Marlow’s behest. Had he ever thought about whether something like that could be squared with his original motivation for becoming a police officer? Yes, he had; he had thought about it a hell of a lot, only so far he hadn’t found any answers. He pushed the uncomfortable thought aside. ‘What happened to the two men?’
‘They died in a shoot-out before they could be sentenced. Some gangland dispute but, who knows, perhaps the courts would have acquitted them again. Maybe it was better that way. Maybe death was their punishment.’
There was more than a little satisfaction in his voice. In Tornow’s eyes, the men who had ruined his sister’s life had got their just reward. He was probably right, Rath thought.
They were silent. Rath hadn’t been expecting such a grim tale; it occupied his thoughts for a time. Tornow managed to find a smile again.
‘That was yesterday,’ he said. ‘What matters is the here and now.’ He raised his bottle.
Rath did likewise. ‘The here and now! Now that you’re with CID, you can make sure people like that get put away.’
‘Let’s hope so.’
‘How do you find the work in Homicide?’
‘If you forget about how boring it can be sometimes…’
Rath grinned, remembering what he had had Tornow and Gräf doing these past few days.
‘…then I think it’s the most worthwhile thing a police officer can do.’
‘I couldn’t agree more.’ Rath didn’t know if it was the beer making him so garrulous, but here was a chance to sound Tornow out. ‘What would you think,’ he began, ‘if I were to put in a word with Gennat so that you can join A Division? Assuming, of course, you pass your examination.’
Tornow looked at him in surprise. ‘Assuming I pass,’ he said, ‘I’d like that very much.’
Rath placed his bottle on the table and glanced at his watch. ‘Time for me to go.’
‘I’d have thrown you out in five minutes anyway,’ Tornow laughed. ‘One beer’s quite enough. Seriously, I need to take an S-Bahn in ten minutes.’
‘Where are you going?’
‘The West End.’
‘That’ll take you a while on public transport, won’t it?’
‘I suppose so.’
‘My car’s outside. If you like I can take you part of the way. I need to pick up two passengers at Bahnhof Zoo: a dog and a woman.’
‘Bahnhof Zoo would be great. It’s only six or seven stops from there with the U-Bahn.’
Rath asked Tornow for a glass of water to mask the smell of beer, followed his host’s lead by washing his face and hands and combed his hair, and soon they were driving along Potsdamer Strasse.
As agreed Charly and Kirie sat on the terrace of the Berlin cafe on Hardenbergstrasse.
‘Is it OK if I let you out here?’ Rath asked.
‘I can manage the rest on foot,’ Tornow said. ‘No need to accompany me to the platform.’
Rath grinned and switched on the indicator to park.
Charly hadn’t seen him, but Kirie recognised the car. The dog could pick out the Buick from hundreds of engine noises. She started barking and, as he cut the engine, Charly spotted him too.
Perhaps he should introduce her to Tornow, he thought. After all, Tornow didn’t know her from before. Until now they had kept their relationship a secret from everyone in the Castle. Not even Gräf knew about it, although he was one of Rath’s few friends in Berlin. The problem was that he idolised Charly, and had done since the pair worked together.