Grimm had turned pale. ‘What is this? What are you doing to me? What have I done to you?’
‘I don’t like the way you let yourself be bought. I can’t stand you. Moreover there’s something I want you to tell me. And if you don’t want me to ruin you, you’d better play along.’
‘What do you want?’
‘When did the RCW contact you for the first time? Who recruited you, and who is, so to speak, the person who runs you? How much have you received from the RCW?’
He recounted the whole thing, from the initial contact Thomas had opened with him after Mischkey’s death, to the negotiations over performance and pay, to the programmes, some of which were still only ideas and some of which he’d already written. And he told me about the suitcase with the crisp new notes.
‘Stupidly, instead of paying back my loan bit by bit so as not to raise suspicion, I went to the bank straight away. I wanted to save on interest.’ He took out a handkerchief and mopped away the sweat, and I asked him what he knew about Mischkey’s death.
‘So far as I could gather, they wanted to put him under pressure after you had turned him in. They wanted to have the cooperation they’re now paying me for, but they wanted it for nothing, in exchange for keeping quiet about his hacking into the system. When he died they were somewhat disgruntled because then they had to pay. Me.’
He could have gone on talking for ever, probably wanted to justify himself, too. I’d heard enough.
‘Thank you, that’s plenty for now, Herr Grimm. In your place I’d keep our discussion confidential. If the RCW get wind of the fact that I know, you’ll be useless to them. Should anything more about Mischkey’s death come to mind, call me.’ I gave him my card.
‘Yes, but – don’t you care about what’s going on with the emissions control. Or are you going to go to the police anyway?’
I thought about the stink that so often caused me to shut the window. And about what was there, even though we couldn’t smell it. Nonetheless it left me indifferent for the time being. I packed away Mischkey’s printouts that were lying on Grimm’s desk. When I turned to leave, Grimm stretched out his hand towards me. I didn’t take it.
19 Energy and Stamina
In the afternoon I should have had my appointment with the ballet director. But I didn’t feel like it and cancelled. At home I went to bed and didn’t wake up until five. I almost never have a siesta. Because of my low blood pressure I find it difficult afterwards to get going again. I took a hot shower and made a strong coffee.
When I called Philipp at the station the nurse said, ‘The doctor is already off to his new boat.’ I drove through Neckarstadt to Luzenberg and parked in Gerwigstrasse. In the harbour I passed a lot of boats before finding Philipp’s. I recognized it by the name. It was called Faun 69.
I know next to nothing about sailing. Philipp explained to me that he could sail to London in this boat or to Rome via France, just not venturing too far from the coast. There was water enough for ten showers, space enough in the fridge for forty bottles, and room enough in the bed for one Philipp and two women. After he’d shown me around he switched the stereo on, put on Hans Albers, and uncorked a bottle of Bordeaux.
‘Do I get a test-drive, too?’
‘Slowly does it, Gerd. Let’s empty this little bottle first, and then we’ll raise the anchor. I have radar and can set sail any time day or night.’
One bottle turned into two. First of all Philipp told me about his women. ‘And what about you, Gerd, how’s your love life?’
‘Ah, what can I say?’
‘Nothing on the go with smart traffic wardens or attractive secretaries, or whatever else you are involved in?’
‘On a case I did get to know a woman recently who’d appeal to me, but it’s difficult because her boyfriend isn’t alive any more.’
‘I beg your pardon, but where’s the difficulty in that?’
‘Oh, well, I can’t flirt with a grieving widow, can I? Especially as I’m supposed to be finding out who murdered the boyfriend.’
‘Why can’t you? Is it your public prosecutor’s code of honour, or are you simply afraid she’ll turn you down?’ He was laughing at me.
‘No, no, you couldn’t put it like that. And then there’s somebody else – Brigitte. I like her too. I don’t know what to do with two women.’
Philipp burst out laughing, loudly. ‘You’re a real philanderer. And what’s stopping you from getting closer to Brigitte?’
‘I am already… with her, I’ve even…’
‘And now she’s expecting a child by you?’ Philipp could hardly contain his mirth. Then he noticed that I wasn’t at all inclined to laugh, and enquired seriously about my situation. I told him.
‘That’s no reason to look so sad. You just need to be aware of what you want. If you’re looking for someone to marry, then stay with Brigitte. They’re not bad, these women around forty. They’ve seen everything, experienced everything, they’re as sensual as a succubus if you know how to arouse them. And a masseuse, what’s more, and you with your rheumatism. The other one sounds like stress. Is that what you want? Amour fou? A heaven of passion, then a hell of despair?’
‘But I don’t know what I want. Probably I want both, the security and the thrill. At any rate sometimes I want one, sometimes the other.’
He could understand that. We identified with each other there. I’d worked out in the meantime where the Bordeaux was stored and fetched the third bottle. The smoke was thick in the cabin.
‘Hey, landlubber, get to that galley and throw the fish from the fridge on the grill!’ In the fridge was potato and sausage salad from Kaufhof and next to it deep-frozen fillets of fish. They just had to be popped into the microwave. Two minutes later I was able to return to the cabin with dinner. Philipp had set the table and put on Zarah Leander.
After eating we went up to the bridge, as Philipp called it. ‘And where do you hoist the sail?’ Philipp knew my silly jokes and didn’t react. He also took my question as to whether he could still navigate as a bad joke. We were pretty tight by then.
We sailed under the bridge over the Altrhein and when we’d reached the Rhine we turned upstream. The river was black and silent. On the RCW premises many buildings were lit up, bright flames were shooting out of tall pipes, streetlamps cast a garish light. The motor chugged softly, the water slapped against the boat’s side, and from the Works came an almighty, thunderous hissing. We glided past the RCW loading dock, past barges, piers, and container cranes, past railroad lines and warehouses. It was growing foggy and there was a chill in the air. In front of us I could make out the Kurt Schumacher Bridge. The RCW premises grew murky, beyond the tracks loomed old buildings, sparsely lit in the night sky.
Inspiration struck. ‘Drive over to the right,’ I said to Philipp.
‘Do you mean I should dock? Now, there, next to the RCW? Whatever for?’
‘I’d like to take a look at something. Can you park for half an hour and wait for me?’
‘It’s not called parking, it’s dropping the anchor, we’re on a boat. Are you aware that it’s half past ten? I was thinking we’d turn by the castle, chug back, and then drink the fourth bottle in the Waldhof Basin.’
‘I’ll explain it all to you later over the fourth bottle. But now I have to go in. It has something to do with the case I mentioned earlier. And I’m not the least bit tipsy any more.’
Philipp gave me a searching look. ‘I guess you know what you’re doing.’ He steered the boat to the right and sailed on with a serene concentration I wouldn’t have thought him capable of at that point, moving slowly along the quay wall until he came to a ladder attached to it. ‘Hang the fenders out.’ He pointed to three white plastic, sausage-like objects. I threw them overboard, fortunately they were attached, and he tied the boat firmly to the ladder.