‘And a time for play… but why Sunday, when they’re giving you Saturday evening off?’
‘You know what the Politicals are like. Always making a huge secret of everything.’ Which was when he realised they could just as well go out on Saturday, and Johann Marlow had made it possible.
What made Horcher unique was that the dishes were prepared at your table. Charly chose steak tartare and pheasant, Rath smoked salmon and chicken kiev. They watched as the chicken was braised and the pheasant flambéd. It all tasted wonderful. Though it wasn’t necessary he added a pinch of salt, just as he had with Charly’s Sauerbraten and yesterday’s Bouletten.
‘So, what exactly are you doing tomorrow?’ she asked.
‘Interrogation’s the name of the game. That’s all CID are good for, according to my new colleague.’
‘Interrogation. To what end?’
‘To uncover links between van der Lubbe and our Berlin Communists.’
‘You actually think they exist?’
‘We’ll find out soon enough.’
‘According to canteen gossip, even Diels thinks van der Lubbe was acting alone.’
‘Diels? The head of 1A?’
‘Your new boss,’ she said. ‘It’s all Göring’s doing. He wants evidence that points to multiple perpetrators and a Communist conspiracy. By hook or by crook.’
‘Still, it’s not like you’re doing anything different, implicating a harmless gang of youths in a political conspiracy.’
‘Which is exactly why I reported sick yesterday. I hope things ease off again after the vote. If they don’t, I’m not sure I can continue to work in G Division.’
‘Where would you go?’
‘Maybe I can get a pass back to A if Gennat puts the case strongly enough. I’ve been part of homicide teams before.’
‘Not even Buddha can help you there. The only women in A Division are stenographers.’
She looked at him angrily. ‘In the meantime we’re working for Göring more than Levetzow,’ she said at length. ‘Things can’t go on like this.’
‘Göring or Levetzow – what’s the difference? They’re both Nazis.’
‘Yes, but Göring is deploying police officers specifically to hunt Communists. All police officers, not just Diels and the Politicals.’
‘Maybe that isn’t as daft as you think. The Communists want to destroy our Republic.’
‘And what do the Nazis want?’
‘Things aren’t nearly as bad as people make out. The election’s tomorrow, which means we must still live in a democracy.’
‘We’ll see about that. I hope the Germans haven’t gone completely mad, but, honestly, I don’t know anymore.’
An unearthly quiet passed through the restaurant. The maître d’ was speaking insistently to the head waiter, who kept looking over at Rath and Charly’s table. The waiters tried hard to conceal it, but they had been seized by temporary panic.
At length the maître d’ approached. ‘I’m very sorry about this, but if I could ask you to take your dessert in the main lounge?’
Rath was tempted to make a fuss, knowing he had Marlow’s influence to call on but, seeing Charly’s face, decided not to ruin their night. He wondered what on earth could have happened for a restaurant to be so foolish as to undo a table reservation made by Johann Marlow. Was Charlie Chaplin back in town, or Max Schmeling?
Two waiters led them to their new table, which, though no longer next to a window, was even more secluded. Rath looked on as two diners took their old seats, a fat man in evening dress accompanied by a considerably slimmer woman. Until now Rath had only seen his face in photos: Hermann Göring, Reich Commissar for the Prussian Interior Ministry, their supreme commander and head of the Prussian Police. A widower of two years, he was on the hunt for a bride. Or perhaps he was out canvassing for his party?
So, Göring was more powerful than Johann Marlow. To Rath that was more impressive than the Pour le Mérite he wore – evidently medals were a feature even of the minister’s evening dress – and all the various offices he held besides. Horcher would never have altered a table reservation made by Johann Marlow for Severing, or any of the other Social Democrats who’d headed the Prussian Interior Ministry.
This wasn’t how he’d imagined their special night. He decided to leave as quickly as possible and see in his birthday at the Kakadu-Bar. They’d take their digestif there, knowing it was a guaranteed Nazi-free zone. The brownshirts didn’t like the place; at Kakadu, they even allowed Negros on stage.
32
Although they arrived early, a long queue had already formed outside the polling station. Rath looked at his watch. ‘I need to be at the Castle by ten,’ he said.
‘They’re not going to bite your head off for fulfilling your civic duty.’
He wasn’t sure if Charly was being ironic. It was only the second time they had voted together, despite many opportunities in recent years.
As the queue moved slowly, he imagined himself at home, listening to Duke Ellington with coffee and a cigarette. At least it was getting warmer, not long now until spring. He put an Overstolz to his lips and offered one to Charly, who declined. He shrugged and struck a match. Hopefully they’d be inside by the time he finished.
Men in uniform stood on the perron outside the entrance: SA officers minus the auxiliary police brassards. He breathed a sigh of relief. The last thing they needed was polling stations supervised by party loyalists. Instead that task fell to a lone cop who bobbed up and down on his bootheels looking stern, as if that would be enough to ward off Communist insurgents. The truth was, any Reds planning to disrupt voting in upmarket Charlottenburg would be more likely dissuaded by the SA than a single uniformed cop.
Three SA officers were in attendance, along with two members of the Stahlhelm. Rath couldn’t see any representatives from the Reichsbanner. The Democrats appeared reluctant to provoke their nationalist counterparts.
The SA men wore campaign posters over their brown shirts. When times were hard Hindenburg voted for Hitler, now it’s your turn. Vote List 1. Above the slogan was a picture of the Reich President and his Chancellor. Hitler looked at the old field marshall with such reverence they might have been father and son. The Führer’s gaze was more hypnotic on the second poster, which also showed him next to Hindenburg. The Reich will never be destroyed – if we are loyal and as one. The third SA man was positioned next to the main entrance. His poster showed President and Chancellor looking down on a sea of people waving swastika flags – almost as if Hindenburg had joined the Nazis. Did the old man realise how much he was being exploited?
The Stahlhelm campaign appeared staid in comparison. Vote List 5: Hugenberg, Papen, Seldte. Kampffront Schwarz-Weiss-Rot. The men who had helped bring Hitler to power. A man in a fur coat with a bowler hat and thick glasses descended the stairs.
‘Good morning, Herr Doktor,’ Charly said. Dr Bernhard Weiss was the former deputy commissioner of the Berlin Police, and their old boss. Rath tipped his hat.
Weiss’s face brightened. ‘Good morning. Let’s hope it’s a good evening too, eh?’
‘And that the early editions give us reason for cheer,’ Charly said. ‘Maybe by this time tomorrow the police guard outside your house can be stood down.’
‘We’ll see,’ Weiss smiled.
The three SA officers began whispering. The second man pointed at Weiss. ‘It’s Isidor,’ he cried. ‘What does he want here? I thought he’d be in Palestine by now.’