Brecht said nothing, staring at the empty glass.
“What if they ask you to testify against him?”
“They won’t.” He shifted in his chair, uncomfortable. “Ulbricht wouldn’t allow it. He doesn’t trust me. He thinks I’m making jokes half the time. As if he would recognize a joke. So I’m a risk. Better to keep me as I am, a feather in his cap.”
“Whose opinion would matter. In public.”
“What are you suggesting? A letter to the editor? In Neues Deutschland? It’s begun. You remember the committee? In America? Once it started? There was nothing to do but get out of the way. Sidestep it, any way you could find. Then it goes on without you.” He poured out another glass. “And there’s the play to consider.”
He caught the Prenzlauer Allee tram, hoping to work on the lecture, but had only been home for a few minutes when the phone rang.
“Alex? You’d still like a walk? What time is good for you?”
Dieter’s voice, but gruff, pitched to anyone listening in, barely recognizable.
“Anytime,” Alex said quickly. “I could leave now if you like.”
“Excellent. Till I see you then.”
He turned left at the water tower, then down the hill past the cemetery to Greifswalder Strasse. Dieter never called. Something wrong with Erich maybe, his fever back. He waited by Snow White, expecting to have his usual cigarette, but Dieter was there almost at once.
“Erich’s all right?”
“Fine. Something else came up.”
“What?”
“A body. In the Spree. Near Bellevue.”
“The British sector,” Alex said automatically.
“Yes. In a Russian uniform. My old friend Gunther wasn’t sure what to do. So he asked for advice. For once, some luck for us. Do you want to tell me what’s going on?”
“They ID him?”
Dieter shook his head. “No. But I did. He’d been in the water, but even so. Except it couldn’t be Markovsky, of course, because he’s in Wiesbaden. So I didn’t recognize him either.”
“They call the Soviets?”
“No. I told Gunther to put him in a drawer under a Max Mustermann until I could look into it. He doesn’t want to start trouble with the police here. Tell them you have a body, they start fighting over jurisdiction. Gunther thinks it’s his murder case. Coming up near Bellevue. I told him I’d help. We’re old colleagues.”
“Murder case?”
“His head’s bashed in. He didn’t slip on a rock. Now do you want to tell me what’s going on? He’s in two places how?”
“He was never in Wiesbaden.”
“Obviously. Not waterlogged like that. That was your idea?”
“Who’s Max Mustermann?” Alex said, off the point, thinking.
“What? What you call John Doe. No one. This was you, the defection?” he said again.
Alex nodded.
“So?”
“When Markovsky went missing, they were all over Irene. Naturally. I thought this would give her a little space. Be the mistress he left behind. Not somebody hiding him.”
“Was she hiding him?”
“No. No idea what happened to him.” He looked at Dieter. “I believed her. But would the Russians?”
“And now they do?”
Alex shrugged. “They’re not grilling her. They’re too busy worrying about what he’s telling us. Our defector. Anybody disappears, it’s the first thing they suspect anyway. Another one to the West. So let them assume the worst-he knows their men in the field, all of it.”
Dieter peered at him. “And when he did show up?”
“He’d have to defect. Once he already had. Not exactly a forgiving group. Would they believe him? Would you take the chance? Then we’d have him for real.”
Dieter said nothing, still staring. “And this was you?” He looked away. “Campbell knew?”
“He had to. To set up the leak.”
“But not me.”
“It was safer.”
“Mm. Except now he comes back as a corpse.”
“No,” Alex said, looking steadily at him. “He’s still in Wiesbaden. Singing. As long as we want him to, as long as the Russians think we have him.”
“And the body in the morgue?”
“Another Max-what? Mustermann. How many are there in Berlin now? Bury him and who’s to know?”
Dieter shook his head. “It’s murder. Gunther’s a little lazy, maybe, but he’s still a policeman.”
“The Soviets aren’t going to come looking. They don’t even admit he went missing in the first place.”
“He’s a policeman. He has to report it. A floater in a Russian uniform?”
“Did you take it off?” Alex said suddenly. “I mean someone might recognize-”
Dieter smiled a little. “The major’s stripes? We removed it, yes. It’s in an evidence bag. Gunther doesn’t know what he has yet. But eventually-”
“Eventually you’ll tell him about the soldier the Soviets are looking for. Nobody special, just an Ivan who probably got rough with a whore, so her pimp- And he floats down to Gunther’s sector. But if he sends the body back, he’ll have the Russians on him. Another excuse to make trouble. They’re not going to miss him. Nobody’s going to miss him. Bury him. And we keep Wiesbaden going.”
Dieter held his glance for a moment, then looked away. “You know, I’m a policeman too. A man’s killed, you want to know why. Who.”
“Markovsky? Half of Berlin would have loved to take a crack at him.”
“But only one did. You’re not interested to know?” He paused. “Or maybe you do.”
“I don’t care,” Alex said easily. “They find a wallet on him?”
“No.”
“And he’s alone at night? Anybody. Does it matter?”
“Gunther may not see it that way.”
“Just for a while.”
Dieter looked up.
“Let Wiesbaden play itself out.”
“You won’t be able to keep that up for long. The defector who isn’t there? It’s not a game, Herr Meier. Not that kind anyway.”
Alex nodded. “Do what you can. We need to buy some time. If the Russians get Markovsky back now, they’ll haul Irene in for more questioning. Let me get her out first. With Erich.”
“She’s going too?”
“I think she should.”
Dieter raised his eyebrows. “That puts you in a delicate situation. You’ll be losing your best source.”
“She was finished anyway, the minute Markovsky got his marching orders. Saratov doesn’t sound like her type. Unless they pass their women on.”
“No,” Dieter said, taking the cigarette Alex offered. “A pity.”
“What? Saratov?”
“No, Markovsky getting called home. And then this. Not a very noble end. Fished out of the Spree.”
“What’s the saying? You get the death you deserve.”
“Let’s hope not,” Dieter said, then looked back toward the street. “All right. I’ll talk to Gunther. When are you moving Erich? He’s a nice boy, by the way. We talked a little.”
“Tomorrow night. Tell Campbell to make sure Howley calls with the clearance.” He looked toward the sky. “And let’s hope the weather holds.”
“You have a car?”
“All arranged. From DEFA. Nobody’ll miss it.”
“You have to be careful. Especially now, with her. Why not do the boy first?”
“And wait for them to pick her up?”
“No, they don’t want her in Hohenschönhausen, they want her walking around. But on a leash. Where they can see her. Which means they’ll see you too. It’s a risk, with her.”
“Why do they-?”
“Herr Meier. A man of action. Maybe you don’t always think things through. Markovsky defects. So who joins him? The wife in Moscow or the girlfriend who can just walk across the street?”
“They why didn’t she go with him in the first place?”
“Maybe he’s testing the waters. Maybe she’s not part of the bargain so he has to offer something. It’s not easy to get out of Berlin. Or maybe-” He stopped, eyes on Alex. “Maybe he didn’t defect at all. Maybe he was-picked up. You say it’s the first thing they think? No, this. Kidnapped. A dangerous move in this game, by the way. They like to retaliate. Either way, what can they do? Watch and wait. She’s the only lead they have. You don’t think like a policeman. So it’s risky with her.”