Verhein shifted, his big hands gripping the edge of the trestle. ‘Captain,’ he growled. ‘If this is a game… ?’
‘It was Colonel Ascher who told you, wasn’t it? Confirmed it.’
‘Yes,’ said Verhein, after a moment.
‘You sent him back. To clean things up. To make sure you had killed her.’ The air felt thick to Reinhardt, so thick he could hardly breathe.
‘He said she was dead,’ Verhein said, finally. ‘That I had killed her.’
‘That you beat her to death.’
‘Yes!’
‘Marija Vukic was stabbed to death, sir.’
‘Enough.’
Both Reinhardt and Verhein jerked around at the sound of the voice. Ascher was standing at the entrance, a pistol aimed at Reinhardt. Mamagedov stepped out from behind him, sidling over to stand behind Reinhardt, his stink filling Reinhardt’s nose. The trestle table creaked as Verhein shifted his bulk off it. ‘Is this true?’ The pistol snapped around at him before slipping back onto Reinhardt. The angles of Ascher’s face were pale, drawn tight, and the tendons of his hand were stretched taut around the pistol’s grip.
‘It’s true, sir,’ said Reinhardt, locking eyes with the colonel. ‘Marija Vukic liked to film herself with her lovers. There’s a film of you and her. It shows you beating her, but not killing her. The colonel has been searching for it ever since he found out about it.’
‘Clemens, is this true?’
Ascher looked back at the general, and Reinhardt could see the stress he was under. Verhein’s influence was strong; the words were damming up in the colonel’s mouth, but he somehow swallowed them back, his chin butting forward.
‘The colonel has been working with a major in the Feldgendarmerie to find this film. They’ve been following me. Getting in my way. And last night they killed a fellow officer to get information about what I am doing.’
‘Captain,’ grated Ascher, shaking his head. ‘You know nothing of what you are saying.’
‘I know what you did, though,’ countered Reinhardt. ‘You thought you were just covering up for the general, but you ended up doing more than that. Vukic was a risk to him, and to you. She knew things that would ruin him and you. Guilt by association. It’s a common enough theme in this Reich of ours. For someone like you who has hitched his wagon to someone like the general, it can be fatal.’
‘Clemens,’ hissed Verhein, taking a step forward. He stopped as a soldier appeared at the door. Ascher hid the pistol against his chest, but the soldier must have picked up on something of the atmosphere in the room, as he hesitated.
‘Sir, combat action report from Captain Tiel.’
‘Later, Sergeant.’ The soldier hesitated again, then left.
‘Clemens…’ Verhein said, again.
‘General,’ snapped Ascher, spearing the air with the pistol. He was left-handed, noted Reinhardt. ‘Just sit quietly, and this will soon be over.’ Verhein’s eyes went wide, but he subsided, and Reinhardt was again reminded of husband and wife. How many couples played out roles like this, he wondered? The position of strength switching according to circumstance? ‘She was going to destroy you, sir. I couldn’t let that happen.’
‘What happened? Did she run her mouth off? Say things that horrified you?’ Reinhardt forced a sneer into his voice. ‘Did you panic at the sight of her in her underwear?’
Ascher flushed. ‘She was uncontrollable. Like she usually was,’ he said, speaking to the general. ‘She attacked me. I had to defend myself.’
‘By stabbing her nearly twenty times?’ Verhein made a small noise in his throat and turned away. Ascher flushed again. ‘Vukic was working with an SD officer, Lieutenant Hendel,’ continued Reinhardt, focusing on the general. ‘They were supposed to confront you together about evidence he had that could damn you, but she could not wait.’
‘Quiet, Captain,’ snapped Ascher.
‘Hendel had a file of evidence against you. That Feldgendarmerie major was looking for it, as well as the film. I’m fairly sure the colonel knows about the file -’
‘Quiet, Captain.’
‘File?’ asked Verhein.
‘- but neither of them really knows what’s in it. Only I do. They just want to use it against you. The film was bad enough, but they could handle that, just about. The file, though, was something else.’
Ascher snarled something at Mamagedov as Reinhardt was talking, and the Kalmyk slammed the butt of his MP 40 into Reinhardt’s kidneys. The world went red, and Reinhardt collapsed to his hands and knees. He looked up at the ring of faces around him and gasped as he went back onto his haunches. From outside, the distant thunder of gunfire rolled down over the clearing.
‘The thing I couldn’t figure, Colonel, is what Becker had on you. He had to have something. What was it? Dirt from the past?’ He managed to duck his head just in time, taking Mamagedov’s swipe across the back of his neck instead of across the ear. The blow still floored him, though.
‘I’m guessing it’s the knife. Stolic’s knife.’ Ascher’s mouth went firm. ‘You killed her with Stolic’s knife.’ Mamagedov kicked him in the thigh. ‘You took it from him when he caused all that trouble in the bar. Then put it back in his room when you’d finished with it.’ Ma shy;magedov kicked him again, then stamped on his calf. ‘Did Becker suggest you pin it on him? Or did you think that one up yourself?’
‘Clemens, what is going on?’ breathed Verhein. ‘What is this about a file? A knife?’
‘General, it’s under control. You have nothing to worry about.’
‘Oh I doubt that,’ muttered Reinhardt from the floor. Mamagedov’s kick flopped him onto his stomach, where he curled slowly into a ball. ‘It’s blackmail, sir,’ wheezed Reinhardt. He raised an arm to fend off another kick and took the blow on the biceps. It knocked him over again. ‘Vukic was going to blackmail you with what Hendel had. Ascher was blackmailing you with thinking you’d killed Vukic. Becker was blackmailing Ascher over the cover-up. But the file trumps everything.’ Mamagedov’s boot thudded into his back, and pain flared along his ribs. The Kalmyk had a kick like a mule, and this was the second beating he had taken in the last hour or so. He did not know how much more he could take, not this close to the end. He made himself small, raising a hand he did not have to force to shake. ‘Please. Make him stop.’
‘Mamagedov, enough,’ whispered Verhein, but it was at Ascher that Mamagedov looked for direction, and only after a moment did the colonel nod. The Kalmyk stood back, his heavy fists at his sides and his flat, round face blank. Reinhardt put one hand in the small of his back, wincing, and carefully as he could, drew his baton out, letting it lie up the inside of his palm and into his sleeve.
‘Stand him up,’ said Ascher.
Mamagedov hauled Reinhardt to his feet and kept him steady with a hand in his collar. His body ached from the blows, but he managed to look at Verhein. ‘There is a file on you, which Major Becker is after, and as he and Colonel Ascher have been working together, I see no reason to doubt that he,’ he said, jerking his thumb at Ascher, ‘is after it too. It’s his ticket out of here.’
‘And here I was thinking you were about to start making sense,’ erupted Ascher, furiously. He jerked his head at Mamagedov, and the Kalmyk rammed his boot into the back of Reinhardt’s knee. It was the old injury, and there was an agonising wrench as it seemed to tear, and Reinhardt dropped with a cry. ‘I’ve had enough of this. Mamagedov, go and find Geiger and Ullrich and see if they’re finished.’ The Kalmyk grunted and turned for the door. ‘I’ve had them preparing the ground for you, so to speak. Just in case things turned out… well, turned out the way they have.’
‘Just tell me one thing, Colonel,’ said Reinhardt, tamping down on the pain and desperation he felt. ‘What was it between you and Becker?’
Ascher chewed his lower lip, glancing at Verhein. ‘He was there when I brought the knife back. He was putting Stolic to bed. He agreed to cover things up, help out, in return for… unspecified favours that he would call in when it suited him.’