‘We’re family,’ she lied, crossing her legs, which threw Herr Eick for a moment. ‘I’m in Berlin for a few days and wanted to surprise my cousin. I thought I’d pick her up after work.’
‘Here we are! The delicatessen section.’ The man gazed triumphantly, then regretfully. ‘I’m afraid you won’t be able to pick her up,’ he said.
‘Oh?’
‘We had to let her go. In October ‘30.’
‘I didn’t know that. Why? I hope she didn’t do anything wrong?’
Eick shook his head. ‘No, no, don’t worry. Purely a budgeting measure. Times are hard.’
Charly stood and stretched out a hand. ‘Well, what can you do? Thank you for your efforts, Herr Eick.’
He seemed disappointed that she was leaving so soon. Before he could say anything – invite her to dinner, or maybe out dancing – she departed the office.
In the delicatessen, she could no longer resist temptation and bought a crab meat salad and a bottle of champagne to go. She might need consoling after meeting Gereon later, and wasn’t sure if she should accept his invitation to dinner. It might be better to insist on just a glass of wine. She was afraid he might attempt to bribe her. In more ways than one.
Asking the saleswoman in neat white overalls to weigh out a hundred grams, she added casually: ‘An Alexandra Reinhold is supposed to work here. You don’t know where I can find her?’ The woman hesitated. ‘I’m her cousin.’
‘From Jerichow?’ She had a Berlin accent.
Charly nodded.
‘Alex didn’t tell you either! She hasn’t worked here for ages. Almost a year now.’
Charly feigned surprise.
‘I remember her da’ standing here just a few weeks after it happened. He didn’t say a word. He’d come to pick her up, just like you.’
‘Do you know where I can find her?’
‘You don’t have an address?’
‘The Reinholds have moved. There were strangers in the flat.’
The woman wrapped the packed crab meat salad in wax paper and passed the package across the glass counter.
‘They’re homeless, apparently, the Reinholds,’ she said, quiet-ly, as if ashamed to discuss it. ‘I thought they’d moved out to you, in Jerichow. But they must be somewhere else.’
‘Homeless? I don’t believe it!’ Charly feigned shock. ‘There’s no one here who might still be in touch? Who might know where she’s living?’
‘Maybe Erich. The butcher’s apprentice, here at Wertheim. He had his eye on her. The way he looked at her when he brought up the stock.’
‘Were they friends? I mean: together?’
‘Not officially, anyway.’ The saleswoman shook her head. ‘It’s strictly forbidden here. You carry on with a minor and you’re out the door, but he certainly had a big crush on her. If you ask me, your cousin wasn’t completely averse either…’ She winked at Charly.
‘You think he might be able to help?’
‘If you’re unlucky, she’ll have told him just as little as she told everyone else. She hasn’t been back since she got the boot. I think she was ashamed.’
‘Erich, you say?’
‘Erich Rambow. In the butcher’s downstairs.’
Charly picked up a bottle of champagne and paid at the till. She had something to celebrate, after alclass="underline" her future with the Berlin Criminal Police. Besides, she had skipped lunch so could afford this little luxury. Shopping bag in hand, she asked the way to the butcher’s, but this time her luck was out. Erich Rambow had already left for the evening.
66
Rath arrived at Kempinski ten minutes early. He couldn’t afford to be late, not tonight. He had thought about taking Kirie, who was always useful when he needed to appease Charly, but the poor dog wouldn’t have been allowed in. Instead, he had fallen back on the services of Frau Lennartz and her husband, who enjoyed taking her overnight, especially as it meant money for them. If things continued like this, they’d soon be earning more from Kirie than their day jobs.
He handed the bouquet to the head waiter and slipped him a small note to ensure they sat on the terrace overlooking the Ku’damm, far enough from the action to talk in private. Everything had to be just right. He wanted her back; wanted, finally, to show her how he felt and put an end to the atmosphere between them. He was ready to go the whole hog again, but this time hoped for better luck. He hadn’t simply showered and thrown on a new suit, but pocketed the rings that had waited in vain in champagne glasses all those weeks ago in Cologne.
He smoked while he waited. The waiter placed the flowers on the table in a pretty, modern vase with the Kempinski ‘K’, changing the ashtray with the same exaggerated attentiveness as the boy in the Excelsior, when she appeared. Rath held his breath.
She looked stunning in her red dress. He savoured the moment as she looked around and was approached by the head waiter. In that instant Rath knew he would do anything for this woman, but first he had to convince her that he, Gereon Rath, was the right man for her. The only man for her – in spite of everything.
His heart started beating faster as the waiter escorted her to the table and he thought he saw a smile flit across her face. He straightened her chair, but she kept her distance as she greeted him and sat down. No embrace, no sign of a kiss. Rath was just as cool, however difficult he found it.
She looked at the flowers, realising they hadn’t been paid for out of Kempinski funds. The flower arrangements on the other tables were more modest. ‘From you?’ she asked.
‘There was a complaint about the last batch. I hope these are up to scratch.’
Without smiling, she looked in her handbag, took out her cigarettes and a carton of matches, and placed both on the table. It looked as if she were preparing her weapons for a duel.
‘How was your day?’ he asked.
‘So-so.’ She lit a Juno and threw the match in the ashtray. ‘Yours?’
‘Our surveillance has gone belly-up. Goldstein gave us the slip.’
She pricked up her ears. A reaction, at last! ‘The gangster?’
Rath nodded. ‘Some time on Friday. A member of staff helped him.’ He lit a cigarette too, even though he had stubbed out his last only three minutes before. ‘Any progress with your Alex?’
Charly shook her head and blew smoke into the hedgerow that separated the terrace from the Ku’damm.
‘I’m sorry about recently,’ he continued. ‘You mustn’t think I’m not taking things seriously. You’re right to look for this girl.’
‘You understand what I’m going through now that you’ve got problems of your own?’
‘I’ve had problems before. You know that. This isn’t the first time.’
Charly nodded. He had never seen her draw so greedily on a cigarette, but perhaps he had just never noticed before?
‘Did you try the brother again?’ he asked, playing the experienced man. ‘That’s where I’d start, or at Wertheim. Her father said she used to work there.’
‘Thanks for the tip, Inspector. Let’s talk about something else.’
He drew quickly on his cigarette to avoid saying something he regretted. Last week she had picked a quarrel because he wasn’t taking her concerns seriously enough; now she couldn’t wait to get him off the subject. They’d barely been here two minutes, and already he was struggling to keep it together. He tried a different approach.
‘I have a new colleague.’ The waiter’s arrival closed this line. Rath ordered a Gewürztraminer, Charly a Selters.
‘Thank you for the invite,’ she said.
‘You can order something more expensive, you know. I’ve got plenty of cash. Or are you afraid I might get you drunk?’