More noise in the room.
‘Did you know about this?’ Weinert whispered. Rath nodded. ‘My offer of a beer is still valid.’
Again, Rath nodded, realising that he couldn’t say anything without incriminating himself. He started slowly towards the exit, looking at Roddeck as he went. The man was ill at ease, that much was plain, having lied in the morgue on two separate occasions. Somewhere in those eyes was fear, but of what? Discovery? Benjamin Engel? Apparently Roddeck suspected, perhaps even knew, that his former captain had survived the war. What he couldn’t know was that the man he called Todesengel had succumbed to his injuries five years ago, and now, realising this latest corpse spelled the end of his police protection, he was scared. Of the ghosts he himself had invoked.
A smile formed on Rath’s face. It was time he was on his way. The journalists grew restless as the police commissioner rose again to speak. ‘I would like to offer my express thanks to Detective Gräf and Cadet Steinke. Gentlemen, we need men like you in the new Germany!’
Without quite knowing why, Rath felt relieved it wasn’t him being thanked on the podium.
95
Porcelain tinkled as coffee was stirred, otherwise the only sound was the rustling of newspapers. Charly peered at Fritze, bowed over the Vossische Zeitung funny papers as he scoffed his final bread roll. Gereon was hidden behind the World News section.
‘The first of May is to be a national holiday,’ she said, over the top of her paper.
Gereon nodded mechanically. ‘They’re allowed to drink again in New York.’
‘They’re calling it German Labour Day. The Communists will be pleased the Nazis are stealing their day of action along with everything else. They’ve already commandeered the Liebknechthaus.’
‘Just beer for the time being, they’re starting off slow.’
A loud snort made Charly look up. Fritze looked at them both and said: ‘You’re talking at cross purposes!’
Charly looked at Gereon, who lowered his paper and smiled.
‘I’m taking the dog out,’ the boy said, sticking the last piece of bread between his teeth. Kirie followed him eagerly into the hallway and moments later they heard the front door click shut.
‘I think Fritze wants us to have a little time to ourselves,’ Charly said.
‘He could tell we were beating about the bush,’ Gereon muttered.
‘Did you know?’
She didn’t have to explain which article she was referring to. It was the one they had scrupulously avoided discussing all morning.
‘You were asleep when I got home yesterday, otherwise I’d have mentioned it.’
‘They find the corpse and mistake Wosniak for Engel? Really?’
‘They’re so fixated on Engel that I’m not surprised,’ said Rath. ‘I think Gennat’s the only one who has doubts.’
‘I thought as soon as Reinhold saw the Krumbiegel photos he’d realise Wosniak’s the killer.’
‘He doesn’t know what we know. We have Hannah, he doesn’t.’
‘We’re not dragging her into this, Gereon! I thought we’d agreed on that. Hannah Singer on the stand probably wouldn’t get a word out, and fugitives from the asylum don’t tend to make credible witnesses.’
‘I’m not planning anything of the sort. I only gave Reinhold the photos, nothing else.’ He tapped the Vossische Zeitung, which had devoted two columns and a large headline to the death of the murderer Benjamin Engel. ‘You see the result.’
‘Has Fritze seen it?’
‘He only reads the funnies. Besides, he doesn’t know anything. Not really. The name Engel means nothing to him. He wouldn’t guess it’s the man he stabbed to death.’
‘Let’s hope so. The last thing we need is for him to get nervous and start talking.’
‘Nothing can happen to him,’ Gereon said. ‘Not when the commissioner himself’s promised immunity from prosecution.’
‘Cut the jokes. They aren’t funny.’
‘Levetzow’s performance yesterday was a farce, but they all bought it. Weinert was the only one who tried to dig.’
Charly fell silent. Ever since the night of the fire when he had exploited her indiscretion, Weinert’s was a name she could do without. ‘Why Weinert of all people?’ she asked.
‘There was someone next to him at the press conference, sowing the seeds of doubt.’
‘You were at the press conference? Are you mad? What did you say?’
‘Queried a few minor details… The identity of the corpse for example. Weinert wanted to go for a beer but I didn’t let things get that far.’
‘It’s enough to be hanging around a press conference without an invite.’
‘It was my case.’
‘Did Levetzow see you?’
‘What if he did?’
‘Reinhold?’
‘The only person I’m certain saw me is Achim von Roddeck, and that’s a good thing!’
‘I can’t think why.’
‘Don’t you see? Now he realises I know more than the others, but he can’t say anything to Levetzow, because it would make him a suspect. If he hadn’t identified his faithful Heinrich as Benjamin Engel, Homicide would have asked why Heinrich Wosniak killed all these men. All you’d need then is a single witness who’d seen Wosniak and Roddeck together and it would be over.’
Charly took a sip of coffee.
Gereon continued: ‘Roddeck suspects that I know the Spree corpse is Wosniak, and the fact that I haven’t shared this information with the Alberich team is making him nervous. The death of the Alberich-killer means his police protection being stood down. In Roddeck’s mind, he’s now in real danger. Because he believes Benjamin Engel is still alive. And because he must think his novel stands a decent chance of flushing him out.’
‘You mean that pack of lies was intended to lure Engel out of hiding?’
‘Yes, because Roddeck believes – rightly as it happens – that Engel took the French gold.’
‘He meant to corner Engel, so that he could get his hands on it himself?’
‘I don’t know about that, but he certainly can’t have expected his faithful Heinrich to be murdered. That must have spiked his guns, especially since he’ll be wondering who on earth stabbed the man.’
‘Well, so long as you’re happy.’
‘If we can’t get him, then the least we can do is put the fear in him, don’t you think? Perhaps if he’s frightened enough he’ll give himself away.’
‘I don’t understand you. Why do you still care? You were taken off the case weeks ago.’
‘You’re a fine one to talk. You were pretty involved yourself a few days back.’
‘That’s right. Because I wanted to protect the children, but now Wosniak is dead.’
‘You really want Roddeck to get away with this? He’s had three people murdered. As well as robbing another man of his reputation with character assassination dressed as literature.’
‘I don’t know, Gereon. Fundamentally, you’re right, but how are you going to prove any of it? Do you really think anyone in the new Germany cares about justice?’
‘I do.’
She stopped short when he said it, suddenly realising how cowardly she had been, and how pitiful it was to sit back and do nothing. It was time to follow through on the decision she had been mulling over for weeks and translate her thoughts into action.
Still, she struggled to get the words out. ‘After Easter I’m going to speak with Wieking again, I’m going to… resign.’ There, she’d said it at last.
‘So soon before the inspector’s exam?’ He looked at her wide-eyed. ‘Is it… are you pregnant?’
‘No!’ She had to laugh seeing him there, completely beside himself. She became serious again. ‘We’ve talked about it often enough… Wieking, the Communist witch-hunt, everything the WKP stands for.’