That was when he saw she wasn’t alone. In Aschinger of all places, where half the station went for their lunch, she sat in full view: Fräulein Charlotte Ritter, newly engaged to Herr Gereon Rath, as most colleagues knew since this morning, eating her lunch without her fiancé. Only, she wasn’t alone.
Alongside at her window table was a black man. A black man who displayed his dazzling white teeth just as Rath looked over. Charly was laughing about whatever it was he’d said, so fixed on her companion that she failed to notice her fiancé in the queue. Rath resisted the temptation to give the man a good smack, choosing, instead, to beat a retreat.
If he hadn’t just come from meeting Johann Marlow he’d have taken her to task, and hounded the black out of the restaurant, but if there was one thing Charly must not know it was Marlow’s excellent relationship with the Berlin Police, viz. Gereon Rath. So, perhaps it was wise that he hadn’t. Even if it’d have made him feel better. Perhaps.
What kind of man was this? Why was she meeting him, and why had she never mentioned a black acquaintance? One thing was for certain: this was no lawyer.
He stared at the Hindenburg portrait in Gennat’s outer office and tried to think of something else, but the same images kept flitting through his mind. Charly, sitting with a black man, laughing. Trudchen Steiner finally stopped the merry-go-round in his head. ‘The superintendent will see you now.’
Ernst Gennat sat at his desk. ‘What is it that’s so important?’ he asked.
My fiancée is having secret meetings with a Negro.
‘How is Officer Dettmann getting on with the Phantom case?’
It wasn’t the most poised opening. Gennat eyed him suspiciously. ‘Do you want your old case back, Inspector?’
Of course he did, and if he could take Gustav Wengler down at the same time, so much the better. ‘Of course not, Sir, it’s…’ He lit a cigarette. Rarely had he felt so nervous in this office. Perhaps it was because his thoughts kept turning to Charly. ‘I might have some fresh insight regarding the case…’
‘I thought the Vaterland team was focusing on the search for Jakub Polakowski?’
‘Precisely how I came upon the information, Sir, or rather, in connection with our investigation into Gustav Wengler.’
‘Your primary concern should be Polakowski,’ Gennat said. ‘He’s our suspect. Wengler is the victim, or potential victim. We are keeping him under surveillance to protect him.’
‘With respect, Sir, Gustav Wengler is a killer, and bootlegger, who had his long-time operations manager murdered to conceal his shady deals.’
‘That’s little more than a theory at this stage.’
‘I have evidence to substantiate it. Wengler has played two Ringvereine against each other, by switching allegiance from Concordia to the Nordpiraten.’
‘What are you driving at?’
‘The murder in police custody could be the work of the Phantom. The man kills on Hermann Lapke’s behalf – who was doing his new business associate Wengler a good turn.’
Gennat’s expression grew serious, even startled, as he reached for the telephone. ‘Fräulein Steiner, under no circumstances am I to be disturbed in the next ten minutes. Not even by you.’ He hung up. ‘Who have you already spoken to about this?’
Charly’s meeting a Negro.
‘Spoken to?’
‘About your suspicion.’
‘No one, Sir. You’re the first.’
‘Then let it stay that way.’ Gennat furrowed his brow. ‘Tell me how your suspicion came about. The Phantom is a sniper, and Assmann had his neck broken.’
‘It had to be done quickly, and police custody is the worst possible place for a sniper.’
‘Where do you have your information?’
‘An informant from the Berolina Ringverein told me the Phantom is Lapke’s personal hit man.’
‘Berolina…’
‘Yes. A Ringverein on good terms with Concordia, in whose orbit most, if not all, of the Phantom’s victims moved.’
‘You think the Pirates are stirring things up again?’
‘Perhaps even Lapke himself.’ Rath lowered his voice. ‘There are whispers that Lapke was in league with the Weisse Hand last year, and that this Phantom is a remnant, so to speak, of that time. Which would mean…’
‘…the Phantom’s a police officer,’ Gennat said.
‘Which also explains how he gained access to the cells. All we have to do now is show the guard from Wednesday evening pictures of all CID offic…’
‘I fear that could be tricky. Herr Studer has been missing for three days.’ Gennat adopted a conspiratorial expression. ‘What I’m about to tell you, Inspector, must stay in this room. Can I rely on you?’
‘Of course, Sir.’
Gennat threw him another searching glance before continuing. ‘The Phantom killings actually began in autumn ’31, shortly after the Weisse Hand was broken. We suspect someone slipped through our fingers at the time, who has since made a career of his hobby. A lucrative one, at that.’
‘Murdering criminals or their accomplices, and earning money on the side.’ Rath stubbed out his cigarette. ‘So it really is a police officer?’
‘Not a word to anyone, do you hear.’ Gennat gave him a piercing look, and Rath nodded as if hypnotised. ‘We are not only certain it’s a police colleague. We know which one.’
96
A further four days passed, and still Jakub Polakowski hadn’t been found. By now all major police stations in Prussia had a photo, and Warrants had scoured the whole of Berlin, along with every town Polakowski had visited during his vendetta.
The Danzig Criminal Police had also been issued with photos, but Polakowski hadn’t appeared outside Wengler’s hotel, the Eden, where the distillery owner occasionally met with lawyers or family members. Clearly he wanted to put his dead brother’s affairs in order, and perhaps do a little bootlegging on the side.
The man had been in his home city for a week now, and Rath wondered when he would return to business in Treuburg, especially since his manager was dead and the distillery was operating without a leader. Perhaps he had already anointed a successor? Whatever, he’d have to return tomorrow at the latest, since there was no way someone as politically-minded as Gustav Wengler would miss the Reichstag elections.
The previous four days had been hard on Rath. Buddha’s secret weighed heavily. He’d have liked to tell Charly, but it was Gennat’s express wish that not even she be admitted. The secrecy was worse than last year, when they had disbanded the Weisse Hand, a clandestine troop of frustrated police officers who had taken it upon themselves to eliminate career criminals using vigilante justice.
Apparently the troop’s last remaining member was still out there killing, only now he did so against a fee. Rath wasn’t entirely surprised when Gennat gave him the name. ‘Detective Inspector Dettmann.’
‘Dettmann, but you gave him his own case? Why, so he can eliminate all evidence?’
‘There is no evidence. I wanted to lull him into a false sense of security.’
‘You’d have been better making an arrest.’
‘Without proof, that’s not possible.’