Jonas?’ asked Müller.
‘Well, although the Republic uses Volvos for official functions, the stretch limousines – well, they’re customised, adapted Volvos. Volvo don’t actually manufacture a long-wheelbase limousine themselves.’
‘Why’s that a problem?’ asked Müller, frowning.
‘It’s like camper vans,’ said Schmidt. ‘A lot of vans in the Federal Republic are based on a Volkswagen van body, but not all of them are sold by Volkswagen. They have their coachwork built by another specialist firm. It’s the same with the Barkas vans over here, and it will be the same with the Volvo limousines. There’s no guarantee that the tyres they leave the Volvo factory with will still be on them after the bodywork has been completed.’
‘So who adapts them?’ asked Tilsner.
Schmidt spread his arms out on the table, palms upwards, in a gesture of apology. ‘I haven’t managed to find that out. And I’ve tried blowing up the various photos of official state parades, but I can’t get a clear enough image of the tyre pattern on the vehicles to be of any use.’
Müller frowned. ‘So what can we do, Jonas?’
‘Well, what I have discovered is that there’s a central garage where all the official cars are serviced, and stored when they’re not in use. It’s in Lichtenberg. Near Normannenstrasse –’
‘– near Stasi headquarters,’ said Tilsner. ‘How are we going to get in there? Shouldn’t we discuss it with Jäger? He might be able to get us the information we want, without us having to do anything underhand.’
Müller vigorously shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want to involve Jäger this time.’
Tilsner shrugged. ‘OK. But I don’t see how we’re going to talk our way into this garage without his help. It will be closely guarded, won’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Schmidt nodded. ‘But overnight there are fewer guards – in the early hours, sometimes just the one.’
One guard. If Schmidt was right, thought Müller, perhaps some sort of diversion might be a way of getting into the compound, and surreptitiously taking photos of the car tyres. She remembered the document signed by Mielke, which she still had in her inside pocket. That might help, but it wouldn’t be of any use on its own. The guard would be sure to insist on phoning his superiors to check its authenticity.
‘Isn’t the whole of the area around Stasi headquarters a restricted zone?’ asked Tilsner.
‘Yes,’ said Müller. She turned to the street map of the Hauptstadt, pinned to the office wall. ‘Where exactly is it, Jonas?’
Schmidt stood and pointed to an area just east of Normannenstrasse.
‘So that’s just outside the restricted zone,’ said Müller. She rubbed her chin. What Schmidt seemed to be suggesting was horribly risky. If any of them were caught it would be the end of their police careers – at the very least.
12
Later the same day.
Over the next few hours, Müller, Tilsner and Schmidt had discussed their possible options, with Müller eventually concluding that any scheme to try to trick their way into the limousine compound was far too risky. They were all party members, they were all working for the state. Müller wasn’t prepared to put all three of their careers, their futures, in jeopardy. Nevertheless, she was determined to get the information they wanted without making the direct approach to Jäger favoured by Tilsner. Although she didn’t voice her fears aloud to the others, Müller at the back of her mind had the suspicion that this whole case might be some sort of elaborate set-up by the Stasi lieutenant colonel. Any attempt to cross-check whether a government limousine was involved in their case had to be made in absolute secrecy.
A plan began to formulate in Müller’s mind when she started asking Schmidt if there was a way, other than directly taking photos of the tyres themselves, that they could verify their design, and therefore pin down their make and rule them in – or
‘Well, although the Republic uses Volvos for official functions, the stretch limousines – well, they’re customised, adapted Volvos. Volvo don’t actually manufacture a long-wheelbase limousine themselves.’
‘Why’s that a problem?’ asked Müller, frowning.
‘It’s like camper vans,’ said Schmidt. ‘A lot of vans in the Federal Republic are based on a Volkswagen van body, but not all of them are sold by Volkswagen. They have their coachwork built by another specialist firm. It’s the same with the Barkas vans over here, and it will be the same with the Volvo limousines. There’s no guarantee that the tyres they leave the Volvo factory with will still be on them after the bodywork has been completed.’
‘So who adapts them?’ asked Tilsner.
Schmidt spread his arms out on the table, palms upwards, in a gesture of apology. ‘I haven’t managed to find that out. And I’ve tried blowing up the various photos of official state parades, but I can’t get a clear enough image of the tyre pattern on the vehicles to be of any use.’
Müller frowned. ‘So what can we do, Jonas?’
‘Well, what I have discovered is that there’s a central garage where all the official cars are serviced, and stored when they’re not in use. It’s in Lichtenberg. Near Normannenstrasse –’
‘– near Stasi headquarters,’ said Tilsner. ‘How are we going to get in there? Shouldn’t we discuss it with Jäger? He might be able to get us the information we want, without us having to do anything underhand.’
Müller vigorously shook her head. ‘No. I don’t want to involve Jäger this time.’
Tilsner shrugged. ‘OK. But I don’t see how we’re going to talk our way into this garage without his help. It will be closely guarded, won’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Schmidt nodded. ‘But overnight there are fewer guards – in the early hours, sometimes just the one.’
One guard. If Schmidt was right, thought Müller, perhaps some sort of diversion might be a way of getting into the compound, and surreptitiously taking photos of the car tyres. She remembered the document signed by Mielke, which she still had in her inside pocket. That might help, but it wouldn’t be of any use on its own. The guard would be sure to insist on phoning his superiors to check its authenticity.
‘Isn’t the whole of the area around Stasi headquarters a restricted zone?’ asked Tilsner.
‘Yes,’ said Müller. She turned to the street map of the Hauptstadt, pinned to the office wall. ‘Where exactly is it, Jonas?’
Schmidt stood and pointed to an area just east of Normannenstrasse.
‘So that’s just outside the restricted zone,’ said Müller. She rubbed her chin. What Schmidt seemed to be suggesting was horribly risky. If any of them were caught it would be the end of their police careers – at the very least.
12
Later the same day.
Over the next few hours, Müller, Tilsner and Schmidt had discussed their possible options, with Müller eventually concluding that any scheme to try to trick their way into the limousine compound was far too risky. They were all party members, they were all working for the state. Müller wasn’t prepared to put all three of their careers, their futures, in jeopardy. Nevertheless, she was determined to get the information they wanted without making the direct approach to Jäger favoured by Tilsner. Although she didn’t voice her fears aloud to the others, Müller at the back of her mind had the suspicion that this whole case might be some sort of elaborate set-up by the Stasi lieutenant colonel. Any attempt to cross-check whether a government limousine was involved in their case had to be made in absolute secrecy.
A plan began to formulate in Müller’s mind when she started asking Schmidt if there was a way, other than directly taking photos of the tyres themselves, that they could verify their design, and therefore pin down their make and rule them in – or
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