After that, he asked Erika Voss to keep an eye on Kirie, who was still lying under the desk, and stepped into the corridor.
Rath thanked God he had never had to work with Gregor Lanke. The head of Vice’s nephew had been taken on as a replacement for Rath when he was transferred to Homicide. Lanke junior hadn’t developed any ambition in the intervening years, and still hadn’t made it past the rank of detective despite his family connections. That said, he had now managed two years in Vice without rebuke, which, by his standards, was quite an achievement.
Rath stood outside the door and considered for a moment, before deciding on a surprise attack. He threw the door open and entered without knocking. He was in luck: Gregor Lanke was alone in his office. Rath’s successor hastily cleared a stack of photos into the top drawer of his desk.
‘What do you want?’ he asked, horrified, only to recognise Rath. ‘Inspector?’ he said. ‘Well, this is a surprise! Pining for your old workplace?’
Rath came straight to the point. ‘Good afternoon. I need to contact one of your informants. A Marion Bosetzky.’
Lanke stared at Rath. ‘Why? You’re a Homicide detective, aren’t you?’
The surprise tactic had worked. Lanke didn’t deny that he had an informant named Marion Bosetzky.
‘It concerns a homicide investigation.’
‘There are proper channels for this sort of thing,’ Lanke said. It seemed he had spoken with his uncle. ‘A request for inter-departmental cooperation, for example.’
‘Come on, now,’ Rath said. ‘Our offices are on the same floor, two minutes apart at most.’
‘Then why don’t you head back to your desk and fill out that official request?’
‘Why are you so keen to get rid of me? Is it so you can get back to looking at your smutty pictures?’ Rath gestured towards Lanke’s desk, which had once been his own.
‘I think you should leave. Otherwise I’ll be forced to ask Superintendent Gennat whether he isn’t giving his men enough to do.’ Lanke reached for the telephone.
Rath had got what he came for. ‘No offence meant,’ he said and smiled, knowing that was what would annoy Lanke most.
74
Erich Rambow parked his bicycle by a tree on Forckenbeckplatz. Charly dismounted in good time before she reached the square, and stood outside a medical supplies store. Reflected in the display window, she watched Rambow carefully lock his bicycle, shoulder his leather bag and set off at a determined march. She rested Greta’s two-wheeler against a lamppost and followed him at a safe distance, using the square’s many trees for cover.
She had had to wait around quarter of an hour by the shops in Lippehner Strasse before he emerged from the courtyard leading to his parents’ house, a leather bag strapped to his bicycle carrier. Rambow had then cycled directly to Friedrichshain, and this time Charly found it easier to keep pace.
Even as a pedestrian he moved at a decent lick. Nevertheless, he didn’t head for the main entrance to the stockyard and slaughterhouse as Charly expected, but ignored the gatehouse and sped down Eldenaer Strasse, keeping to the endless brick wall. She kept her distance on the other side of the street until he came to a halt, so abruptly that she only just managed to jump into an entranceway. When she peered out, he had vanished. She checked that he wasn’t still there before leaving her hideout to cross the street.
Examining the masonry discreetly she located a brick that had been dislodged. Only when she was certain that no one was looking did she pull herself up and swing her legs over the wall, lowering herself onto the other side immediately. She stood in the lane between two brick buildings. The smell here wasn’t sweet, a mixture of blood and slurry, and other things that didn’t bear thinking about.
There was no sign of Rambow. She moved to the end of the lane and looked around the corner. Nothing, not a living soul. The butcher and his leather bag had vanished.
75
If Peaches had been alone, she’d have been OK, perhaps even if it had just been him and Kralle, but there were five of them. Kralle, the coward, had sent his crew in first. Alex caught another of them with the knife handle, albeit not as cleanly as Peaches, but Theo, the strongest, landed a punch. She tumbled to the floor, clasping the fleshing knife tightly, but Theo and the others were on top of her straightaway. Theo kneeled on her upper arms, while the other two prised the blade out of her hand, before pressing her flailing, thrashing legs to the floor. She felt paralysed, utterly defenceless.
The only thing she could do now was spit but, when she did, Theo smacked her again, so hard she felt her lips swell and start to bleed.
Damn it, Vicky, Alex thought, as she tasted blood. You should have made sure no one was following you. What have you gone and done, girl?
Kralle’s grinning face appeared over her.
‘Let me go, you cowards!’ She struggled in vain.
‘Looks like we’ve got ourselves a wild horse,’ Kralle said, ‘that needs breaking in.’
Alex gave up trying to resist. ‘What do you want from me, damn it?’
Kralle pulled a knife. ‘I think you can guess that. This is the slaughterhouse, after all.’
He flicked open the knife and the boys gave a muffled, spiteful laugh. Alex thought she had earned Kralle’s respect after her exploits with the knife, and perhaps she had. Perhaps that was why he had brought four of his crew along. He might be out for revenge, but she didn’t think he’d kill her. He wanted to give her a fright – and was making a pretty good fist of it too. There were a whole lot of nasty things he could do with a knife without killing her. Alex tried to counter her fear with her fury at the crew who had made her life and Benny’s hell from the moment they first set foot in the axle factory.
‘Before we make for the block,’ Kralle said, putting his knife away, ‘it’s time to break this one in.’ Again the boys laughed, with the exception of Peaches, who had just announced his return to the living with a groan. ‘First I’m going to fuck you,’ Kralle continued, fumbling with his fly. ‘Then it’ll be their turn. How often, is up to us.’ He laughed. ‘Oh, one more thing, and this’ll be a novelty for you. This time there’ll be no exchange of cash.’
Alex reared up in her futility. The three boys held her down with an iron grip. Theo, the one she had thought was the most intelligent, dealt her another blow before climbing off her arms, which were now devoid of feeling.
‘So,’ Kralle said, taking his dick out of his trousers. ‘I think it’s time this little whore got her just desserts.’
He had an erection. The sadistic little arsehole was turned on by the fact that she was defenceless and bleeding from her mouth.
Alex couldn’t keep her trap shut, which had always been her undoing. ‘What the hell is that? Is your dick still hard from your boys sucking on it?’
One of them gave another knuckleheaded laugh, breaking off as Kralle’s grin froze to a grimace of rage and he kicked her in the guts. Pain went through her like a fist burrowing and tearing through her insides, and she almost blacked out.
They heaved her onto the rickety table that stood at the back of the room against the windowless rear wall. Although she felt she might throw up at any moment, she defended herself as best she could, but the two boys gripped her legs tight, using their entire body weight to prise them apart. Behind her, Theo held her arms at such an angle that every movement was painful, and Alex feared he might dislocate them. They laid her out ready for Kralle, their lord and master, who now approached with trousers pulled down.