Kirie seemed to be enjoying her newfound freedom to roam. Before turning down Hardenbergstrasse Charly asked the newspaper vendor at Steinplatz for a copy of the Kreuzzeitung.
‘Sold out. Went like hot cakes this morning. You might get one at the train station.’
‘That’s where I’m headed anyway.’
‘Interested in the new serial?’
‘My husband is.’
Five minutes later she found herself back at Bahnhof Zoo, one of the ugliest but busiest train stations in Berlin. It was an affluent part of town but, if you kept your eyes peeled, you could see any number of street children begging, selling dubious goods, sometimes even themselves, or simply loitering around. She made the rounds with Hannah’s photo. ‘Excuse me, do you know this girl?’
All she received were head shakes and the odd comment. ‘Lady, why don’t you just give me a mark? I don’t need these questions.’
She carried on undeterred, asking not only youths but also war veterans who had sacrificed their health in the trenches and now competed for the sympathy of passers-by. Charly found it increasingly hard not to give these pitiful wretches money. Poor souls… although the youths were just as pitiful, none of them knowing where they would spend the night, only that they preferred this existence to the prospect of life in the protectory. Which is where they would find themselves if arrested.
That was unlikely, however. Unless they felt passers-by were being unduly harassed, the police let the kids do as they pleased, although the SA auxiliary officer next to the two beat cops, German Shepherd on its lead beside him, might have other ideas. The SA was unpredictable, which explained why its men inspired such respect – or such fear.
A red-haired boy who was begging in a cheeky, but charming, way had been watching her out of the corner of his eye. ‘Excuse me, lady,’ he said, ‘but I lost my ticket and mother is waiting for me at home in Bernau. You wouldn’t have ten pfennig for a poor apprentice lad?’
‘You’re an apprentice, are you? What are you doing out here, then?’ The clock by the underpass showed a quarter past twelve.
‘Baker’s apprentice,’ he said cheekily. He had a strong Berlin accent.
Aware that he was lying through his teeth, Charly reached inside her purse for a ten-pfennig coin. Before handing it over, she showed him the photo. ‘Do you know this girl?’
‘Why would I? Does she look like a baker to you?’
‘She spends a lot of time here. Her name is Hannah.’
‘What’s she done?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Well, you’re looking for her, which means you’re either her mother or from Welfare, and you’re not her mother.’
He made the word ‘Welfare’ sound like a contagious disease. His eyes flitted this way and that, ready to make a run at any moment.
‘Wrong on both counts.’ Charly smiled. ‘I’m from the police. I want to help you.’
‘Understood. Your friendly local police department. So, she has done something?’
‘I think there’s someone after her.’
‘Why are you telling me this? I don’t know the girl.’
‘Are you sure?’ She looked him in the eye, certain he was lying. He must care about Hannah, or he’d have bolted by now.
‘Lady, you expect me to remember every face that passes through? That’s a whole lot of people. It’s not like I lose my ticket every day.’
She handed him the coin, along with a piece of paper with her name and address. ‘If you happen to see her, tell her that Charlotte Ritter from the police knows that she’s in danger. She needn’t worry that I’ll have her sent back.’
‘Sent back?’
‘To Dalldorf.’
The boy looked surprised. Hannah obviously hadn’t told him about her past, but who tells someone they’ve escaped from a mental asylum, or that they have eight people on their conscience? He grinned at her and strolled off, slowly increasing his pace until he was almost running. He looked like someone trying to catch a train.
She waited until the SA officer had stubbed out his cigarette and continued on his way before speaking to the two beat cops. The German Shepherd barked at Kirie, but the auxiliary officer tipped his SA cap by way of apology and smiled. So, friendly Nazis did exist, and they had reason to be cheerful since, as of today, they had control of the town halls as well as the Reich Chancellery. She produced her identification.
‘Are you from Warrants?’ the cop said. ‘They pestered the hell out of us the day before yesterday. Not that they found the little brat either.’
‘No, no. Women’s CID.’
‘We have to find her before Welfare get involved.’
‘Welfare’ was all G Division was to her male colleagues. She swallowed her anger. ‘This man who saw her, what was he like?’.
‘He had a lot of facial scars. A war veteran if you ask me.’
‘Like one of them?’ Charly gestured towards the beggars at the station.
‘He was much better dressed, but his face was a sight. He had a limp too.’
‘Yet he managed to get away before you could take down his personal particulars.’
‘We couldn’t have known he’d take off, and we had to report to Alex and our colleagues in Wilmersdorf. There was plenty to do.’
‘Don’t you think it’s strange that a witness should slip away like that? After making such a song and dance about having the girl detained.’
‘He’ll have had his reasons. Maybe didn’t want his old lady to know he’d been hanging around Bahnhof Zoo.’
‘How did he know the girl then? Did he say? There weren’t any pictures of her in the papers.’
‘He was gone before we had the chance to ask.’
52
Rath needed less than half an hour to reach Cologne. Adenauer’s new automobile highway, the Kraftwagenstrasse, made it seem as if Bonn were a suburb of Cologne, rather than a city thirty kilometres away. The four-lane road, including twenty kilometres without an intersection, was intended to promote the city’s modernisation and create employment in difficult times. In the summer his father had asked him to attend the opening. Like the Rosenmontag invitation, it was an attempt to integrate him into Cologne’s inner circle, but a gunshot wound to his shoulder, a painful reminder of his adventures in Masuria, had served as a convenient excuse.
It was fun driving the Buick at full speed again. The last time had been on the AVUS in Berlin. It wasn’t until Bonner Strasse, Cologne’s southern arterial road, that he took his foot off the gas. The city had changed in the two weeks since he had left. The closer he came to the Rings, the wide boulevards that encircled Cologne’s centre, the more swastikas he saw, and not just on public buildings. The Nazis were everywhere. Only a few weeks ago city workers had removed unauthorised flags from the bridge. Try it now, and they would find themselves in the Rhine.
Apart from the swastikas though, the city looked the same. Maybe not that much had changed after all. There was no point getting worked up. He parked outside the entrance at Sudermanstrasse, and felt his guilty conscience and a host of unpleasant memories stir. A helpful female assistant, whom he had never seen before, opened the door and smiled at him. He placed a finger to his lips. ‘I’m a friend,’ he said, and gestured towards the office door. ‘I wanted to surprise Herr Wittkamp.’
His knock was met with a weary ‘come in’. Rath entered the office, the sight of which triggered yet more memories: wine bottles, mouse ears, the morning after the night before… Paul was entering something in a thick notebook. ‘What can I do for you?’ he asked without looking up.