The next morning, accompanied by Elsa, Sophie reported to the main police station in Wandernburg. A sleepy looking Hans arrived to offer moral support; he had just received her urgent message and had immediately made his way to the address on Spur Street. Amazingly, he had found it at the first attempt, following Sophie’s hastily drawn map. Outside the police station, Hans heard about the masked attacker’s unsuccessful assault, and it was all he could do to stop himself from uttering the reproach he could anyway see in Sophie’s startled expression. She had decided not to tell Rudi, and much less her father — it would have provided him with the necessary excuse to forbid her from leaving the house. When Sophie finished telling him about it, Hans embraced her recklessly, and she didn’t stop him. Elsa gave a meaningful cough and they stepped away from one another. Before entering the police station, Sophie glanced at Hans’s appearance and asked him to take off his beret. Didn’t someone steal it? she whispered in his ear. Yes, he said putting it away, but I had a spare one. Where do you get them from? she asked, puzzled. They’ve been banned for years!
In here! a voice on the other side of the door cried out. The policeman who had accompanied them stood aside to allow Sophie, Elsa and Hans to enter the Chief Superintendent’s office. The Chief Superintendent himself was a nondescript, flabby individual, utterly unremarkable except for one subtly terrifying trait — his teeth clacked as he spoke, as if his dentures lagged behind his words by a fraction of a second, or as if a voracious appetite caused him to devour what he was saying. He listened to Sophie’s stammering, raised an arm to interrupt her, and ordered her to be taken into the adjoining office. And, teeth rattling, summoned Lieutenant Gluck and Sub-lieutenant Gluck.
Removing his cap in front of his superior, the younger Lieutenant Gluck corrected him in a hushed voice: Lieutenant, Chief Superintendent, sir, I’m a lieutenant now. The Chief Superintendent clacked an “Ah” and addressed Lieutenant Gluck’s father: Lieutentant Gluck, you must be proud of Lieutenant Gluck. I am, Chief Superintendent, sir, his father nodded, I’m ever so proud of my so, of Sub, of Lieutenant Gluck, Chief Superintendent, sir, thank you, sir. Don’t mention it, Lieutenant, clacked the Chief Superintendent, I always take an interest in my men’s progress. Speaking of which, how is the investigation coming along? Have we any strong suspects? People are nervous, politicians are beginning to ask questions. The young Lieutenant Gluck stepped forward to give his reply: We have, Chief Superintendent, sir. Is that so, Sub-lieutenant? his superior asked with interest. Lieutenant, Chief Superintendent, Lieutenant, the young man corrected him. Well, his father spoke up, best not to count our chickens, given the public disquiet the case has caused, it would be impossible to put right any mistakes. On the contrary, on the contrary! clacked the Chief Superintendent. The sooner we give them a culprit the sooner we can all relax. And in my view this is probably the work of a Jew. Do you think so, Chief Superintendent, sir? said Lieutenant Gluck, taken aback. Remember we already had a Jewish rapist nine years ago, the Chief Superintendent explained, we can’t dismiss the possibility of this being another one. I see, Lieutenant Gluck said, that’s a good theory, Chief Superintendent, sir, we’ll bear it in mind. The Chief Superintendent gave one last clack: I hope you can wrap this up quickly, lieutenants, it has gone on long enough. You may go, Vorwärts!
No sooner had they left the main office than Lieutenant Gluck approached his son and told him: You mustn’t speak to the Chief Superintendent like that, a sub-lieutenant isn’t supposed to … A lieutenant, insisted Lieutenant Gluck. A lieutenant isn’t either, Lieutenant Gluck said, annoyed, and don’t be so hasty. Whatever you say, Father, said Lieutenant Gluck. Lieutenant, call me Lieutenant, his father corrected him.
Lieutenant Gluck was questioning Sophie. His father remained silent, gazing out of the tiny window at the back of the room. The office, much smaller than that of the Chief Superintendent, had a musty odour. The young lieutenant was standing taking notes, and each time Sophie paused, he circled the woodworm-riddled desk. Is that all you can remember? he asked, hurling his quill into the inkwell. (The ink sloshed around in it, threatened to spill over the edges, gradually settled.) Are you absolutely certain you didn’t notice anything else about your assailant? His hair? His skin colour? The size of his hands? Nothing? I already told you it was too dark, Sophie replied, and as you can imagine I was too busy running away to notice these things. What about smells, insisted the lieutenant, did you notice anything peculiar about the way he smelt, his breath, his sweat, anything? I wasn’t close enough to him, she said, lowering her eyes and shaking her head, believe me, gentlemen, I wish I could be of more help. It’s a pity, said the lieutenant. Pardon me, Hans interrupted, isn’t there more we could do? How about if we kept watch at night pretending we are out strolling? I imagine you have a shortage of police officers, and there aren’t many nightwatchmen around. My dear sir, replied the lieutenant, irritated, we’ve already organised numerous special patrols to no effect. Repeating the exercise now would be of little use, the masked attacker never strikes two days, or even two weeks in a row. He’s nothing if not patient. He attacks out of the blue, bides his time. He appears then disappears. As though into thin air. Sophie (separating two slender fingers she had been clasping together since the start of the interview, brushing them against the sleeves of her dress, running them along the edge of the desk) said with a lump in her throat: Well, I hope you catch him soon, gentlemen, I had a narrow escape last night, but perhaps next time I won’t be so lucky, a few more seconds and, good God, I dread to think! Very well, Fräulein, sighed the lieutenant, we appreciate your assistance. You can go home now. We suggest you take extra care, and we’re glad you’re so quick on your feet. Well, Sophie murmured, standing up, I’m not that quick, just well informed. We women do read newspapers.
On hearing her last words, Lieutenant Gluck senior (who had been gazing absent-mindedly out of the tiny window) swivelled round suddenly and said: Wait, wait, so when did you say you started running? Sophie almost jumped when she heard the other lieutenant’s voice: What do you mean? I’m asking you, he explained, when exactly you started running away. You just said you weren’t very quick. So why couldn’t the masked attacker catch up with you?
Sophie sat down again and described the chase once more, this time mentioning the brief halt that had allowed her to discover she was being followed. Apparently excited, Lieutenant Gluck senior wanted to know why she had left out that detail in her previous account. Sophie told him she hadn’t considered it important, and that anyway all the questions had referred to her would-be attacker, not to her. The lieutenant asked her to recall as precisely as she could their positions in the alleyway, and to calculate how far they were from one another when she dropped her things and began to run. After listening to her with his eyes closed, the lieutenant went on: Are you sure this was more or less the distance between you? And yet you say he couldn’t catch up with you before reaching the next corner? Sophie nodded, pale-faced. Lieutenant Gluck glanced at Lieutenant Gluck, let the weight of his years slump into a chair and declared: Excellent, excellent! We’ve got him now, son. Fräulein, you are wonderful.