‘How can I help?’
‘First, you can stop me being eaten.’
‘I’m afraid Nero doesn’t listen to me. And his master is sadly…’
‘Dead. I know.’ Rath showed his badge. ‘My condolences. I’d like to speak to his wife. Is she here?’
The girl gestured towards the company buildings. ‘She’s in the office next door.’
‘How do I get there without being torn to shreds?’
‘By giving Nero a wide berth.’
Rath proceeded to do exactly that and finally gained the premises, consisting as they did of a warehouse, in front of which the delivery vans were parked, and a simple little office wing at the building’s head. The guard dog stopped barking when it realised Rath was beating a retreat. It seemed the company premises were outside its jurisdiction. A brass plate hung next to the entrance, glistening in the sun, as spick and span as everything else around here. The glass door stood half open and Rath went inside. The office wing appeared neat and tidy, with a slight smell of alcohol.
Inside, a woman with greyish blonde hair sat at a desk, leafing through a muddle of opened and closed files. Bills, contracts, orders, staff lists. A gust of wind and the chaos would be complete.
The woman was so engrossed she didn’t look up until Rath knocked on the open door and showed his badge.
‘Edith Lamkau?’ he asked. She nodded. ‘Rath, CID. My condolences on the death of your husband. Please excuse our disturbing you again.’
The widow Lamkau nodded and gazed at the files she held in her hands. She seemed to be somewhere else entirely, the very picture of despair.
‘What a mess,’ she said.
‘That’s an awful lot of paperwork,’ Rath added sympathetically.
She nodded, and gazed with a wounded expression at the litter of files on the desk before her. They, rather than the death of her husband, seemed to be the cause of her despair. ‘What the hell am I meant to do with all this? Orders, bills… Then all these people asking what’s going to happen. Somehow word on Herbert’s death has got about quicker than news of our latest promotions.’
‘Don’t you have someone who knows their way around the business, and can help you out?’
‘Herbert looked after everything himself. No one could have known that he…’
She let the papers drop, breaking into a sob so suddenly that Rath gave a start. He remembered the lily-white cotton handkerchief in his jacket. Edith Lamkau dabbed gratefully at her wet eyes.
‘Frau Lamkau,’ Rath said, when she had composed herself again. ‘In the meantime, our suspicions that your husband died an unnatural death have been confirmed.’
‘Oh God! Did someone kill him?’ Rath nodded awkwardly. ‘Who?’
‘That’s what we’re trying to find out, Frau Lamkau. It’s the reason I’m here.’ He pointed outside, to where Nero had barked again. ‘You’re well guarded here. Was your husband afraid? Did he have enemies?’
She shook her head. ‘Herbert was only concerned with our safety. There have been a number of break-ins here recently.’
‘In your husband’s overalls we found an envelope containing a thousand marks. Can you explain where it came from?’ She shook her head. ‘Did your clients settle their accounts in cash?’
‘Some maybe. I don’t know.’
‘Then there must be an invoice for this amount somewhere. Do you know which clients your husband visited yesterday? Is there a journey log? A list of suppliers?’ Edith Lamkau didn’t seem to know anything about her husband’s affairs. Perhaps they weren’t all above board. ‘How about I send a few men over tomorrow to look after your papers?’ Rath said.
She smiled gratefully. ‘You’d do that?’
‘But you have to promise to forget about all this. Just make sure you lock the door when you leave.’
‘Of course. Gladly!’ Edith Lamkau looked as if a burden had been lifted from her soul.
6
Dear Gereon,
Back in Berlin, yet here we are still writing to one another… you’re harder to pin down than the police commissioner!
My darling, I’d have liked to see you again before our paths inevitably cross tomorrow at the Castle. I assume that for the time being our old agreement still holds. No one should realise just how collegial our relationship is. It’d mean a lot to me, you know… It’s my first day tomorrow, and there are already more than enough people who think there’s no room for women on the police force. Let’s not give them any further ammunition by being over-familiar on duty. You know how quickly the Castle’s rumour mill can be set in motion.
Aside from that I think it’s important we meet as soon as possible. I still owe you a response, after all.
Forgive me for abandoning Kirie, but she seemed rather well acquainted with your friendly porter, and I didn’t want to kidnap her, even if I’m certain she’d have come willingly. The thing is I just had to get out of your flat. I hope you understand, and that you’re not angry with me. I’m not made to spend hours waiting for a man – that’s something you’ll have to get used to.
In the meantime, I’ve settled nicely back into Berlin life. You wouldn’t believe how many people have visited already. Old Krause from the grocery store round the corner snapped at me as though I’d never been away – ‘you touch it, you buy it’. Nice that Berlin’s so pleased to have me back.
Rath folded the letter and placed it back in its envelope, took it out and read it again. A quarter past seven. One more cigarette and it would be time to head over to the conference room. He sat in the Buick by the railway arches, watching his colleagues streaming into the Castle from all sides. He lit an Overstolz and opened the side window.
He swallowed another aspirin from the bottle, washing it down with a slug from his silver hip flask. It felt as if the cognac did more for his headache than the pill. Lack of sleep coupled with too much alcohol was a deadly combination, but last night the bottle had been his only consolation.
From the moment the night porter pushed the envelope across the counter, he knew it was from her, tearing it open in the lift going up. Reaching his apartment, he fetched a bottle of cognac and, still in his coat, slumped into an armchair and began to read, not knowing how to feel.
He didn’t know how many times he had read the letter since, only that he still didn’t understand. She wasn’t made to spend hours waiting for him? Was that a ‘no’ to his proposal? Berlin was pleased to have her back, was she referring to another man, or just old Krause? All right, she hadn’t forgotten him, but did she really have to emphasise how many people had already been to visit…
Even now, with a slightly clearer head, he couldn’t decipher the letter’s meaning, but her words seemed more positive, friendlier somehow. The best thing, however, better than any single word, was that the letter smelled of Charly. He could still smell her this morning in among the odour of paper and rubber lining, and realised it was the thing he had missed most last year. Sniffing the note a final time, he returned it to its envelope.
Kirie, who was crouched on the passenger seat itching to be released, issued two short barks. ‘You’re right, old girl, time to go.’
They made a detour via Alexanderplatz, so that she had a chance to pee before entering the station. The enormous building loomed as sombre as a medieval castle, hence the name given to it by employees: the Castle. Once upon a time, the red brick of police headquarters had held sway over Alexanderplatz, but the various new additions had since relegated it to second place. The police commissioner, who had previously enjoyed a clear view from his private office on the first floor, now had to content himself with the windows of Alexanderhaus, in which the Aschinger restaurant had also found its new home.