‘The obvious thing… but how do we explain to Gennat what we’re doing here? Not to mention the fact that I’m supposed to be laid up in bed.’
‘Then go home, and leave the rest to me.’
‘This isn’t just about me. Or you.’ She glared at him. ‘Fritze trusts us. You want to drag him into this?’
‘It was self-defence.’
‘Oh yeah, and who’s going to corroborate that?’
‘Hannah Singer, for one.’
‘Hannah Singer is Fritze’s only witness, and if she pulls through, I don’t intend to let the state anywhere near her.’
‘Charly, the girl is a fugitive from the asylum. A mass murderer!’
‘Hannah Singer is a girl who was forced into a slave’s existence by bastards like that…’ she gestured towards the dead man. ‘…who liberated herself in an act of desperation. Precisely because the state authorities were in no position to help.’
‘Charly, Charly. What are you saying?’ Rath shook his head. ‘The deceased is a mass murderer. The man I’ve been hunting for weeks.’
‘Then he has his just deserts,’ she said.
‘You’re not serious, are you? What do you suggest we do?’
‘I suggest we don’t argue about it, for a start.’
‘Let’s call it in, and I take responsibility for the corpse. That way we keep the kids out of it.’ And get some decent press into the bargain. Detective Inspector Rath Bags Dangerous Serial Killer, he could use a headline like that.
‘What will you say to Gennat?’
‘Self-defence. He tried to stab me, I defended myself.’
‘Apart from the fact that you’d have to explain why you cornered him here of all places… Why didn’t you use your service weapon? Why did you cut him with his own trench dagger? Like a pig.’ She pointed to the corpse. ‘There are at least half a dozen stab wounds, maybe more.’
‘I’ll think of something.’
‘Why did you drag his corpse into the workshop? And notify Homicide…’ she looked at her watch. ‘…six and a half hours later?’
Rath gave up. Charly was right. Gennat would unravel his lies before they were through the first slice of cake. Then she explained her plan.
From the very first, Rath knew it was a crackpot idea, but since he could think of nothing better, he agreed. Taking the rain barrel that stood brim-full under a downpipe they tipped most of its contents onto the pool of blood, saving the rest for the trail on the ramp. Then they returned to the car and drove back to Charlottenburg.
PART III
ASH
Monday 27th March to
Friday 26th May 1933
These days journalists look on such harmless professions as tightrope-walking or roofing with envy.
Ash, non-combustible residue left after the burning of plant or animal substances.
80
It was the kind of Monday morning that Rath could do without. Having barely slept, he was looking forward to a quiet start when Erika Voss told him that the police commissioner wanted a word urgently. For the third time in the space of a month. No commissioner had wished to see him as often as Magnus von Levetzow.
Urgently, yet already Rath had waited a full half an hour outside his office. Dagmar Kling, who had outlasted Kurt Melcher, Albert Grzesinski and Karl Zörgiebel, went about her work unperturbed, having witnessed many things including the arrest of a serving commissioner by the Reichswehr. Poor sinners such as Gereon Rath were the least of her concerns.
He had no idea what the summons was about, only that it meant missing morning briefing and his sole remaining link with day-to-day case work. More manhunt than murder inquiry, the search for Benjamin Engel was anything other than a classic Homicide investigation. By this point Rath’s task of reconstructing the circumstances around the deaths of the three former soldiers had been superseded by the order to look for a man who left no trace, and wasn’t about to start.
On his way to Alex, he had taken a detour via the Brommy Bridge, but couldn’t approach the shore without stopping and getting out of the car. Was that why Levetzow wished to speak with him, because they had found the corpse? But then, wouldn’t it be Gennat who summoned him? Perhaps they had been seen. Someone might have spotted the Buick on Köpenicker Strasse and noted the registration. If so, he’d have some explaining to do.
Last night, the first of the new moon, had been ideal. They had returned to Köpenicker Strasse around midnight, dressed in black and wearing gloves, to find the thread Rath had attached to the door still intact, and the dead man exactly where they had left him. They had brought a clothes line, and a sheet for the corpse. Though the blood had already coagulated, it still left red streaks on the white cotton. Charly was about to start wrapping when Rath gestured to wait, and vanished into the yard to fetch cobblestones.
‘We need weight,’ he whispered, before venturing outside three more times. Satisfied that the bundle was heavy enough, they tied it and exited through one of the rear doors that led onto the river.
A cold wind was blowing, and a veil of mist had settled on the Spree. When they switched off their flashlights, the only light came from the gas lamps on the Brommy Bridge. They wouldn’t be the first to pass a dead man into the care of these waters, Rath thought. The bundle was impossibly heavy, an impossible carry, but somehow they managed to haul it across the threshold and drag it to the water where they gave it one last shove. Watching the blood-stained bundle slowly tip forward and slide into the murky depths, they understood there was no going back and that this secret would bind them closer than any marriage ceremony.
‘Inspector Rath?’ Dagmar Kling’s voice returned him to the present. ‘The commissioner will see you now.’
He stood up and entered Levetzow’s office, where the commissioner sat behind his desk. ‘Well, Inspector?’
‘Sir?’
‘Any information you’d care to divulge?’
Well, I found the trench dagger killer, along with his trench dagger, only the man was dead and, being unable to confirm his identity or motives, I preferred to make his corpse disappear. That’ll be an end to the murders, and that’s good news, isn’t it?
‘Nothing, Sir.’
‘As I feared, and precisely the reason I summoned you.’ Levetzow paused, but Rath chose to remain silent and listen. ‘A week ago I asked you to keep me informed on developments in the Engel investigation. Why have I heard nothing?’
‘There haven’t been any, Sir.’
‘You see! That’s your problem right there,’ suddenly Levetzow was pounding his fist on the table. ‘No developments in a week! Damn it, man, I put you on the bastard because I thought you were young and ambitious, and exactly the right man for the job. A Rottweiler, ready to snap.’
‘Sorry if I’ve disappointed you, Sir, but I have reason to suppose this Engel, this trench dagger killer, has gone to ground.’
‘What makes you suppose that?’
Rath couldn’t pretend the killer was still out there, threatening the life of esteemed ex-lieutenant and author Achim von Roddeck. ‘Let’s call it investigative instinct, Sir. There’s no trace of him anywhere. I’m certain he won’t kill again. Lieutenant von Roddeck need no longer fear for his life.’