They had drunk a little wine before retiring to the bedroom, where Gereon was so tender she almost burst out laughing. ‘I’m not made of china,’ she said, finally.
‘Now wouldn’t that be a thing,’ he replied, before throwing caution to the wind. Soon, asleep in his arms, she was no longer thinking of Dettmann. That much, at least, Gereon had achieved.
She surveyed the mound of onions before her. It was as if a wicked magician had cast a spell not only on them, but on the large clock hanging above the office window, halting the passage of time. These onions would keep her busy the whole day, making it impossible to have a poke around, let alone discreetly. Unger’s face appeared behind the glass wall-pane, casting disapproving glances whenever she paused for breath. At least her tears were abating, or perhaps she simply had no more to shed.
If all they had her do was chop onions, she would never work out what really went on here, either in public or behind closed doors. Haus Vaterland was a huge complex with hundreds of employees. The kitchen alone was bigger than most Berlin restaurants. She reached for the next onion. At least she was getting a little practice in. As for the rest… perhaps she’d have to accept that she’d never make the perfect housewife, despite her mother’s best efforts. Not that she wanted to be one anyway.
19
Rath could have handled Böhm’s report being as dull as the technical summaries of ED Chief Werner Kronberg, but not the presence of Harald Dettmann in the row in front, wearing the sort of smirk he’d have happily wiped from the man’s face. Dettmann usually skipped morning briefing, often on the flimsiest of pretexts, but today, of all days, he was present and grinning like a Cheshire cat. It was unbearable.
Rath had arrived at the station weary and several minutes late, and not just because Charly had spent the night. In point of fact, they had gone to bed relatively early, or at least Charly had. He, on the other hand, had spent the night watching her or staring at the ceiling, unable to get her story out of his head. She was right: she couldn’t mention anything to Gennat or her direct superior, Wieking, since that would make things official. If, as he’d intimated he would, Dettmann denied both his outrageous behaviour and his even more outrageous remarks, then she would be pigeonholed as a resentful liar out to discredit male officers. And that would only serve to confirm existing preconceptions. Most Castle workers regarded female CID as superfluous, but deploying a woman in Homicide was nothing short of a catastrophe.
Now they were in the conference room, with Harald Dettmann smiling cheerily in their midst. The bastard must have felt like a million dollars.
Rath had taken his seat scarcely able to follow Böhm’s report, but twigging, nevertheless, that the detective chief inspector had as good as solved the shaving knife murder in Schlosspark Bellevue. At least the Bulldog was doing something to improve A Division’s detection rate, in contrast to Inspector Gereon Rath, whose desk housed a growing number of unsolved cases. Perhaps now there was a chance that Henning and Czerwinski would be stood down from Böhm’s command and assigned to the Vaterland team.
A twitch of Gennat’s eyebrow told him he was up next. He walked to the front and summarised the latest findings in the Vaterland case.
‘We have three starting points. First, the anaesthetic agent tubocurarine, whose source of supply we are hoping to isolate…’ He glanced towards Dettmann, who looked as though it was the first he’d heard of it. ‘Thanks to the help of Narcotics officers, we have managed to draw up a list containing the relevant addresses of known drug traffickers, which Officers Gräf and Lange are working through as we speak.’ Dettmann displayed the same languid interest as everyone else in the room.
Rath realised he had paused for slightly too long, and continued. ‘Second, is the prospect of irregular goings-on at Haus Vaterland, in which Lamkau, our victim, could be involved. This is backed up, among other things, by the thousand marks we found on his person. In order to gather more information here, a covert operation is underway as of this morning.’
He didn’t give any further details.
‘The third starting point for our investigation,’ he continued, ‘is something we discovered only yesterday afternoon. We were able to establish a link between the Vaterland case and a second, apparently identical, death in Dortmund. The victims appear to be connected, although we cannot, at this moment, say how. We found the death notice of the Dortmund victim in Herbert Lamkau’s possession, as well as that of another man, the circumstances of whose death remain a mystery.’
He finished his report and, for once, Gennat saw fit to praise the work of his team. He reclaimed his seat, assuming morning briefing was over, and that Buddha, as was customary, would close with a few words. Not on this occasion.
‘Gentlemen,’ the superintendent began, ‘there is still no mention of it in the press but you’ll know by midday at the latest. Shortly before midnight last night, there was a fatal incident outside the Lichtburg multiplex in Wedding. The victim was killed by a precision shot to the heart that took half his chest with it. Despite our immediate intervention, the killer has vanished without trace.’
Though Gennat named no names, everyone in the room knew what it meant. The Phantom had struck again.
Too late for the mornings, but the midday and evening editions would take great pleasure in breaking the news. The headlines would carry the name Phantom once more and refer to the fact that, despite more than six months of investigations, police still hadn’t made an iota of progress. One or two articles would mention the name Gereon Rath, citing him as the officer who had been chasing the Phantom in vain all these months.
In the room, all was silent. With increased public scrutiny, everyone knew that the next few days would be tough, whatever case they were handling. As the officer in charge of the Phantom case, Rath was surprised they hadn’t tried to make contact with him last night, though the reason soon became clear enough.
‘The Bellevue case is now closed, save for the final report,’ Gennat continued, ‘meaning that Detectives Henning and Czerwinski can rejoin the disbanded Phantom troop, which is hereby resurrected under new leadership.’
Most officers in the room were aware that Rath had been in charge, and turned to face him. He put on a brave face, as if he’d known all along.
‘I have chosen to place the case in new hands,’ Gennat explained. ‘With Inspector Rath making great strides in the Vaterland case, it would seem churlish to dissolve his team at this moment in time.’
The superintendent gazed kindly towards him, but he felt as if he were being pilloried. Looking at the floor, he feigned boredom, and wondered who would be taking over. Wilhelm Böhm, most likely.
‘Through happy coincidence,’ he heard Gennat continue, ‘we were fortunate yesterday that an experienced colleague found himself in the vicinity of the crime scene, enabling us to initiate search measures in and around the area with immediate effect. Two suspects were apprehended and are awaiting questioning. I intend, therefore, to pass the case onto the man whose courageous actions may finally have gained us an advantage in our fight against this unscrupulous killer. Please step forward, Inspector Dettmann, and outline the particulars of yesterday’s incident.’