Adieu”.’
‘Zarah Leander. I like that one.’
‘He even hummed it for me to make sure I knew it. I had to ask the man for a light and then his name and if he said it was Paul I was to give him the envelope and walk away. Well, I could tell there was something peculiar about all this, so I asked him what was in the envelope and he said it was best I didn’t know, which didn’t make me feel any better about doing it. But then he put five pictures of Albrecht Dürer on the table and assured me that it would be the easiest hundred marks I’d ever earned. Especially in the blackout. Anyway I agreed. A hundred marks is a hundred marks.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’
‘So I rode the S-Bahn one stop east to Nolli and waited under the station just like Gustav had told me to do. I wasearly. And I was scared, but the five Alberts felt good inside my stocking top. I had time to think. Too much time, perhaps, because I got greedy. That’s a bad habit of mine.’
‘You and the Austrian corporal.’
‘I kept on thinking that if I had been given a hundred from Gustav for showing up with an envelope then I might make at least another ten or twenty from Paul for handing it over. And when eventually he turned up that’s what I suggested. But Paul didn’t like that and started to get rough with me. He searched my coat pockets for the envelope. And my bag. He even searched my underwear. Took my hundred marks. And that’s when you showed up, Parsifal. You see he wasn’t trying to rape me. He was only trying to find his damned envelope.’
‘Where was it? The envelope?’
‘I didn’t have it on me when I tried to brolly him. Well, that would have been foolish. I’d already hidden it in some bushes near the taxi rank.’
‘That was clever.’
‘I thought so, too. Right up until the moment he punched me.’
‘Where is it now?’
‘The envelope? When I went back the next day to look for it, the envelope was gone.’
‘Hmm.’
She shrugged. ‘Now I really don’t know what to do. I’m scared to go to the cops and tell them. Naturally I’m worried about what was in that envelope. I’m worried that I’ve landed myself in the middle of something dangerous.’ She closed her eyes. ‘It seemed so easy when we were in the Romanisches Café. Just hand it over in the blackout and walk away. If only I’d done that.’
‘This Gustav. Have you seen him in here since?’
‘No.’
‘Does anyone else know him?’
‘No. It turns out that Magda thought his name was Josef, and that’s all she remembers. Am I in trouble, Parsifal?’
‘You might be. If you went to the police and told them about this, yes, I think you would be.’
‘So you don’t think I should tell them.’
‘With a story like yours, Arianne, the police – the real police – are the least of your worries. There’s the Gestapo to consider.’
She sighed. ‘I thought as much.’
‘Have you told your story to anyone else?’
‘God, no.’
‘Then don’t. It simply never happened. You never met anyone called Gustav or Josef in this place. And no one ever asked you to be a cut-out for them at the S-Bahn on Nollendorf Platz.’
‘A cut-out?’
‘That’s what you call it when someone wants to give something to someone else without actually meeting them. But that’s all right, too, because there was no something. No envelope. You don’t even have a hundred marks to show for it, right?’
She nodded.
I sipped the beer and wondered how it and the cigarette could taste so good and how much truth there was in what Arianne Tauber had told me. It was just about possible that Franz Koci had taken a hundred marks out of her underwear, although he’d been carrying only half as much when the cops had found him in Kleist Park. Of course, they could easily have helped themselves to half his cash. And it wasjust about possible that some
‘Zarah Leander. I like that one.’
‘He even hummed it for me to make sure I knew it. I had to ask the man for a light and then his name and if he said it was Paul I was to give him the envelope and walk away. Well, I could tell there was something peculiar about all this, so I asked him what was in the envelope and he said it was best I didn’t know, which didn’t make me feel any better about doing it. But then he put five pictures of Albrecht Dürer on the table and assured me that it would be the easiest hundred marks I’d ever earned. Especially in the blackout. Anyway I agreed. A hundred marks is a hundred marks.’
‘Mmm-hmm.’
‘So I rode the S-Bahn one stop east to Nolli and waited under the station just like Gustav had told me to do. I wasearly. And I was scared, but the five Alberts felt good inside my stocking top. I had time to think. Too much time, perhaps, because I got greedy. That’s a bad habit of mine.’
‘You and the Austrian corporal.’
‘I kept on thinking that if I had been given a hundred from Gustav for showing up with an envelope then I might make at least another ten or twenty from Paul for handing it over. And when eventually he turned up that’s what I suggested. But Paul didn’t like that and started to get rough with me. He searched my coat pockets for the envelope. And my bag. He even searched my underwear. Took my hundred marks. And that’s when you showed up, Parsifal. You see he wasn’t trying to rape me. He was only trying to find his damned envelope.’
‘Where was it? The envelope?’
‘I didn’t have it on me when I tried to brolly him. Well, that would have been foolish. I’d already hidden it in some bushes near the taxi rank.’
‘That was clever.’
‘I thought so, too. Right up until the moment he punched me.’
‘Where is it now?’
‘The envelope? When I went back the next day to look for it, the envelope was gone.’
‘Hmm.’
She shrugged. ‘Now I really don’t know what to do. I’m scared to go to the cops and tell them. Naturally I’m worried about what was in that envelope. I’m worried that I’ve landed myself in the middle of something dangerous.’ She closed her eyes. ‘It seemed so easy when we were in the Romanisches Café. Just hand it over in the blackout and walk away. If only I’d done that.’
‘This Gustav. Have you seen him in here since?’
‘No.’
‘Does anyone else know him?’
‘No. It turns out that Magda thought his name was Josef, and that’s all she remembers. Am I in trouble, Parsifal?’
‘You might be. If you went to the police and told them about this, yes, I think you would be.’
‘So you don’t think I should tell them.’
‘With a story like yours, Arianne, the police – the real police – are the least of your worries. There’s the Gestapo to consider.’
She sighed. ‘I thought as much.’
‘Have you told your story to anyone else?’
‘God, no.’
‘Then don’t. It simply never happened. You never met anyone called Gustav or Josef in this place. And no one ever asked you to be a cut-out for them at the S-Bahn on Nollendorf Platz.’
‘A cut-out?’
‘That’s what you call it when someone wants to give something to someone else without actually meeting them. But that’s all right, too, because there was no something. No envelope. You don’t even have a hundred marks to show for it, right?’
She nodded.
I sipped the beer and wondered how it and the cigarette could taste so good and how much truth there was in what Arianne Tauber had told me. It was just about possible that Franz Koci had taken a hundred marks out of her underwear, although he’d been carrying only half as much when the cops had found him in Kleist Park. Of course, they could easily have helped themselves to half his cash. And it wasjust about possible that some
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