Babylon Berlin (52 page)

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Authors: Volker Kutscher

BOOK: Babylon Berlin
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The voice brought him back to the
Venuskeller.
Sebald’s balding head gleamed over the shiny table-top like the moon over the Wannsee.

‘Take me to your boss, then you can get back to enjoying your dancers,’ Rath said. ‘Maybe you should have a think about your stage programme while you’re at it. This veil dance would be an impertinence even somewhere legal.’

‘I wouldn’t use that tone with Herr Marlow if I were you,’ Sebald said.

They didn’t even have to go over the road this time, as Marlow had made himself comfortable in one of the back rooms. He was sitting at Sebald’s desk with a few figures hanging around the darkest corners of the room, all of them in evening dress. Liang was standing behind Marlow’s chair.

‘Good evening, Inspector,’ the crime lord greeted him, just as friendly as during their first encounter. ‘Excuse me for making you wait. You mustn’t think that your presence had escaped our notice. I wanted to see if you were keeping to our agreement…’

‘What agreement?’

‘Not to visit
Venuskeller
on your own time.’ Marlow drew on his cigar. ‘Believe me, I know how difficult that is. And secondly…’

Right on cue a side door opened and a naked girl entered, lighting a cigarette with the table lighter on Sebald’s desk before disappearing as quickly as she had emerged. Rath recognised the well-built performer from the American Indian routine. The men in the room grinned suggestively, all of them, that is, apart from Marlow and the Chinese man.

‘…secondly I had things to do.’ Marlow was grinning now too, though it was almost charming when he did it.

‘Patience is one of my greatest virtues,’ Rath said. ‘You need it in my job. The same goes for staying power.’

‘Then Iet’s hope you have that too.’

‘I wouldn’t be sitting here getting on your nerves otherwise.’

‘Oh, is that what you’re doing?’

‘I hope so.’

‘And
I
hope you have more to offer than last time.’

‘Why don’t we see? But I’ll only speak to you in private.’

Marlow laughed. ‘I don’t think this is the place for
you
to be imposing conditions. Besides, you can never speak to me entirely in private, you should know that by now.’ He waved his left hand limply through the air as if swatting a fly. ‘Sebald, take your men for a little stroll. I’m sure Liang is more than capable of catering to our friend’s needs.’

He said it in a very friendly manner, but it sounded like a threat. Sebald left the room with four men. Three remained behind.

Marlow came straight to the point.

‘I’ve been reading about your exploits in the papers recently, Inspector,’ he said. ‘I see you’re investigating murders these days. So far without much success, or am I wrong?’

‘I’ve just told you I’m patient. You have to be able to wait for success too. For the moment, for example, when you are escorted into a Black Maria by two police officers.’

Marlow’s voice changed immediately and the temperature in the room grew icy. ‘You certainly are brave, Inspector. I recommend that you think carefully about how much bravery you can afford to show in this room.’

‘Is that supposed to be a threat? You wouldn’t dare kill me as well!’


As well
? What’s that supposed to mean?’ Marlow raised his eyebrows. ‘Whatever ideas you might harbour about my business, I haven’t killed anyone.’

‘Then
had
killed. Let’s do some straight talking for once. What’s your role in all this? How many people do you have on
your
conscience?’

Marlow flicked the ash from his cigar.

‘Don’t get carried away now. If we’re going to do some straight talking, then why don’t we start with
you
. I’ve always been open and honest; you on the other hand would have me believe you were after the Sorokin gold. An outright lie. So, what game are
you
playing?’

‘I’m looking for a murderer.’

‘Then you should damn well look somewhere else!’

Marlow slammed his fist on the table so suddenly that Rath gave a start.

‘When you showed up just now in
Venuskeller
, I thought perhaps you’d realised that cooperating was in your interests too. Now here you are again, talking big!’

‘You’re always saying how much you want to work with me. Yet after our last conversation you tried to have me killed!’

‘Where do you get such ridiculous ideas? Believe me, Inspector, if I really wanted you out of the way, you wouldn’t be sitting here now.’

Marlow seemed genuinely appalled.

‘Why should I work with you?’ Rath asked.

‘Finally, a sensible question!’ Marlow’s voice sounded just as warm and friendly as it had at the start of their conversation. ‘I’m going to offer you a very simple deal. I’ll help you arrest your killer, you help me find the gold.’

‘That’s only going to work if you tell me everything you know, including your role in all of this.’

Marlow smiled his smile, which inspired more fear than confidence.

‘Of course,’ he said. ‘But first, two things. One: if the gold turns up, leave it in the care of Marlow Imports, without the police making any trouble.’

‘As long as you guarantee me free rein to catch the killers, even if it means arresting someone from
Berolina
.’

‘I’ll provide reinforcements if you like.’

‘Let’s not get carried away,’ Rath said. ‘The second point?’

‘That you don’t use anything I have said or am about to say in court.’

Rath only needed a moment to consider. ‘Fine,’ he said. ‘So, who goes first?’

‘I’ve already told you so much, Inspector. Now it’s your turn.’

Rath took a cigarette from his pack before he began.

‘You know that one of your men is working for the police?’ he said, waving the match out. ‘Was working.’

Marlow raised his eyebrows in surprise. ‘I hope you have a name.’

‘Josef Wilczek.’

‘Saint Josef!’ Marlow blew a cloud of smoke across the table. ‘Of all people! That rat would’ve snuffed it years ago if it wasn’t for me.’

‘You saved his life?’

‘I removed a bullet from his bloody guts. He was one of the people still playing war in 1919.’

‘So you really are a doctor?’

‘Let’s say that I have certain medical skills.’

‘So Wilczek was part of the
Freikorps
?’

‘An armed group at any rate, one that wore field grey and rifle slings.’

‘An ex-front soldier who couldn’t help himself. That fits. Wilczek was working in tandem with an old war comrade at the station. Bruno Wolter, DCI in Vice.’

‘Well, well! Your old boss?’

Rath was amazed. ‘You’re well informed.’

‘Normally it’s the police who work for me, rather than the other way round. I made a few inquiries after you dropped by so suddenly two weeks ago.’ Marlow gave the Chinese man a wave, and Liang poured whisky into two glasses. Rath sniffed at the glass and nodded appreciatively.

‘From Scotland,’ Marlow said. ‘Better than the hooch that Sebald serves out there.’ His head gestured towards the door leading to
Venuskeller.
The noise from the bar was barely audible in the back room. ‘So,’ he said, raising his glass, ‘let’s drink a toast.’

The men drank.

‘I had a feeling the police were in on it,’ said Marlow finally. ‘I thought there was something funny about Wilczek’s death. It was a cop that did for him. Yet your first thought is to make
Berolina
nervous.’

‘I’m still working on the assumption that it was a gangland shoot-out.’

‘Nonsense. Saint Josef was taken out. Probably by his boss. By Wolter!’

Rath said nothing. Let Dr M. believe what he wanted.

‘The fact that it’s a vice cop, now that surprises me. What does he want with the gold? To open a whorehouse as big as the
Reichstag
?’ Marlow stubbed his cigar out. ‘This is about politics, and the arms trade. How is a vice cop supposed to get hold of weapons?’

Through his old army friend
Rudi Scheer
, Rath thought. Scheer was in charge of the Berlin police armoury. That gave him plenty of opportunity to buy more weapons than necessary and divert them through dubious channels. Perhaps he had even misappropriated the odd weapon from police reserves. Was that why 1A had put Jänicke onto Wolter? That meant Rudi Scheer was most likely under observation too. Still, Jänicke’s cover had been blown, and Wolter had almost certainly warned his old friend Rudi long ago. The two of them wouldn’t be laying themselves open to any more attacks from 1A. Then there was the link to the
Reichswehr
, to Major General Seegers, who was so well informed about the Sorokin gold. Bruno had some damn good options when it came to trading weapons, even as a vice cop.

But none of that concerned Marlow. Rath decided to muddy the waters. ‘Maybe it’s got nothing to do with weapons,’ he said.

‘It’s about weapons, you can be sure of that! Kardakov wanted to use the money to buy weapons and someone stopped him. Still, that was only the first part of the drill. The second is to get hold of the gold and arm the troops. That’s just as true for Stalin’s people as it is for the Black Hundred
.
Just don’t ask me what a vice cop is doing mixed up in all of it.’

‘Stalin’s people?’

‘Do you remember the story about the missing Soviet embassy worker that made the papers last week?’

Rath remembered. The Soviet embassy at Unter den Linden had submitted a protest note to the commissioner. They suspected counter-revolutionary forces at work. Typical of the Soviets to use any opportunity to fire an ideological broadside. Zörgiebel had refused to prioritise the case at the expense of other missing person cases.

‘The man was a Chekist, a member of the Russian secret police,’ Marlow continued. ‘He was trying to recover the gold for the fatherland of all workers. He wasn’t very successful.’


Wasn’t?’

‘I fear he won’t be seeing Mother Russia again.’

‘Did you…? I mean your people…?’

‘No. I imagine the competition saw to him. I only know he’s out of the race. Just like his helpers from the local Red Front. Thälmann’s boys like nothing better than crawling up Stalin’s arse. Serves them right. They won’t be bothering us anymore.’

‘What about the
Red Fortress
?

‘Pardon me?’

‘Are you still working for Kardakov’s organisation or were they bothering you too?’

‘I don’t work for anybody. I had a business arrangement with Alexej Kardakov, and now he’s dead.’ Marlow took a sip of whisky. ‘But I think I’ve said enough. It’s your turn again!’

‘I can give you two more names.’ Rath took his time stubbing out his cigarette in order to keep Marlow in suspense. ‘Vitali Selenskij and Nikita Fallin.’

‘More Russians? Where do they fit into all this?’

‘Two first-rate arseholes who used to work for the Tsar’s secret police. They’re the ones who staged the whole thing with Kardakov’s corpse yesterday. If they dumped him in the grave then they most likely killed him too…’

‘Black Hundredists,’ Marlow cried inadvertently.

‘What did you say?’ That phrase again. Rath had never heard it before today.

‘You don’t know? Well, I’m not surprised.’ Marlow laughed. ‘I only encountered it when Alexej Kardakov was giving me some political pointers. You need to know who you’re dealing with in an operation like this, and Kardakov was more afraid of the Black Hundredists than he was of Stalin’s Chekists.’

‘With good reason perhaps, given his current condition. What can you tell me about them?’

‘Tsarist terrorists, if I can put it like that. Pretty nasty bastards. Similar to the SA, only this lot make the SA seem like a bunch of uptight boy scouts. Kardakov knew they were after the gold as well.’

‘I thought the two Russians were working for the
Nordpiraten.

‘Don’t get me started on those pimps. The pirates don’t know anything about the gold, the idiots!’

‘But they’re at war with
Berolina
. Kardakov didn’t just have all his papers on him when he was found, but a
Berolina
membership pin too. Looks as if someone’s trying to make trouble for
Berolina
.’

‘Seems to be working too. Your people are giving Red Hugo hell again. Poor guy, his nerves are shot at the moment.’ Marlow gave the Chinese man a nod and he refilled their glasses. ‘Believe me, Inspector. If Fallin and Selenskij have anything to do with Kardakov’s death, then they belong to the Black Hundred
.
The way Kardakov and that other poor swine…’

‘Boris.’

‘…the way those two were tortured, so brutally yet at the same time so insidiously, that’s the trademark of the Black Hundred
.

Rath took a drag on his cigarette and thought for a moment. What Marlow was saying might just make sense. Ex-secret police who couldn’t help themselves, and who still knew how to inflict pain.

‘And?’ Marlow was growing impatient. ‘What else do you know?’

‘Not much,’ Rath said. ‘Selenskij’s dead.’

‘Murdered?’

‘Probably.’

‘By who?’

‘Good question. There are several possibilities: either by a competitor in the race for the Sorokin gold, or by an accomplice because he had made a mess of things and become a security risk. Or perhaps it was just revenge.’

‘This damn gold has killed a lot of people, without making a single one of them rich,’ Marlow said.

Rath nodded. Clearly a whole lot of people knew about the gold: Marlow and his men, Wolter’s wartime comrades and their informant Wilczek, the communists, the Black Hundredists, the Countess Sorokina and the now leaderless
Red Fortress
– no wonder they were all getting in each other’s way.

‘What about Fallin?’ Marlow asked.

Rath shrugged his shoulders. ‘No idea. He hasn’t turned up as a corpse at any rate.’

‘Let’s hope he’s still alive. If he’s the one who put Kardakov through the mill, then he probably knows where the gold is too.’

‘Then why hasn’t he picked it up?’

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