Berlin Noir, page 72
‘I could suck one out of the rug,’ I said, and followed her through the door, upstairs and into a cosy, solidly furnished apartment.
There was no ignoring the fact that Lotte Hartmann was attractive. Some women, you look at them and calculate what modest length of time you would be willing to settle for. Generally, the better-looking the girl the less time with which you tell yourself you would be satisfied. After all, a really attractive woman might have to accommodate a lot of similar wishes. Lotte was the kind of girl with whom you could have been persuaded to settle for five steamy, unfettered minutes. Just five minutes for her to let you and your imagination do what you wanted. Not too much to ask, you would have thought. The way things happened, though, it looked like she might actually have granted me rather longer than that. Perhaps even the full hour. But I was dog-tired, and perhaps I drank a little too much of her excellent whisky to pay much attention to the way she bit her bottom-lip and stared at me through those black-widow eyelashes. I was probably supposed to lie quietly on her bed with my muzzle resting on her impressively convex lap and let her fold my big, floppy ears, only I ended up falling asleep on the sofa.
22
When I awoke later that same morning, I scribbled my address and telephone number on a piece of paper and, leaving Lotte asleep in bed, I caught a taxi back to my pension. There I washed, changed my clothes and ate a large breakfast, which did much to restore me. I was reading the morning’s Wiener Zeitung when the telephone rang.
A man’s voice, with only the smallest trace of a Viennese accent, asked me if it was speaking to Herr Bernhard Gunther. When I identified myself the voice said:
‘I’m a friend of Fräulein Hartmann. She tells me that you very kindly helped her out of an awkward spot last night.’
‘She’s not exactly out of it yet,’ I said.
‘Quite so. I was hoping that we could meet and discuss the matter. Fräulein Hartmann mentioned the sum of $200 for this Russian captain. Also that you had offered to act as her intermediary.’
‘Did I? I suppose I might have.’
‘I was hoping I might give you the money to give to this wretched fellow. And I should like to thank you, personally.’
I felt sure that this was König, but I stayed silent for a moment, not wishing to seem too eager to meet him.
‘Are you still there?’
‘Where do you suggest?’ I asked reluctantly.
‘Do you know the Amalienbad, on Reumannplatz?’
‘I’ll find it.’
‘Shall we say in one hour? In the Turkish baths?’
‘All right. But how will I recognize you? You haven’t even told me your name yet.’
‘No I haven’t,’ he said mysteriously, ‘but I’ll be whistling this tune.’ And with that he proceeded to whistle it down the line.
‘Bella, bella, bella Marie,’ I said, recognizing a melody that had been irritatingly ubiquitous some months before.
‘Precisely that,’ said the man, and hung up.
It seemed a curiously conspiratorial mode of recognition, but I told myself that if it was König, he had good reason to be cautious.
The Amalienbad was in the 10th Bezirk, in the Russian sector, which meant catching a number 67 south down Favoritenstrasse. The district was a working-class quarter with lots of dirty old factories, but the municipal baths on Reumannplatz was a seven-storeyed building of comparatively recent construction which, without any apparent exaggeration, advertised itself as the largest and most modern baths in Europe.
I paid for a bath and a towel, and after I had changed I went to find the men’s steam-room. This was at the far end of a swimming pool that was as big as a football field, and possessed only a few Viennese who, wrapped in their bath-sheets, were trying to sweat off some of the weight that was rather easy to gain in the Austrian capital. Through the steam, at the far end of the luridly-tiled room, I heard someone whistling intermittently. I walked towards the source of the tune, and took it up as I approached.
I came upon the seated figure of a man with a uniformly white body and a uniformly brown face: it looked almost as if he had blacked-up, like Jolson, but of course this disparity in colour was a souvenir of his recent skiing holiday.
‘I hate that tune,’ he said, ‘but Fraulein Hartmann is always humming it and I couldn’t think of anything else. Herr Gunther?’
I nodded, circumspectly, as if I had come there only reluctantly.
‘Permit me to introduce myself. My name is König.’ We shook hands and I sat down beside him.
He was a well-built man, with thick dark eyebrows and a large, flourishing moustache: it looked like some rare species of marten that had escaped on to his lip from some colder, more northerly clime. Drooping over König’s mouth, this small sable completed a generally lugubrious expression which started with his melancholy brown eyes. He was much as Becker had described him but for the absence of the small dog.
‘I hope you like a Turkish bath, Herr Gunther?’
‘Yes, when they’re clean.’
‘Then it’s lucky I chose this one,’ he said, ‘instead of the Dianabad. Of course the Diana’s war-damaged, but the place does seem to attract rather more than its fair share of incurables and other assorted lower humans. They go for the thermal pools they have there. You take a dip at your peril. You could go in with eczema and come out with syphilis.’
‘It doesn’t sound very healthy.’
‘I dare say that I’m exaggerating a little,’ König smiled. ‘You’re not from Vienna, are you?’
‘No, I’m from Berlin,’ I said. ‘I come and go from Vienna.’
‘How is Berlin these days? From what one hears the situation there is getting worse. The Soviet delegation walked out of the Control Commission, did it not?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘soon the only way in or out will be by military air transport.’
König made a tutting noise and rubbed his big hairy chest wearily. ‘Communists,’ he sighed, ‘that’s what happens when you make deals with them. It was terrible what happened at Potsdam and Yalta. The Amis just let the Ivans take what they wanted. A great mistake, which makes another war a virtual certainty.’
‘I doubt if anyone’s got the stomach for another one,’ I said, repeating the same line I had used on Neumann in Berlin. This was a fairly automatic reaction with me, but I genuinely believed it to be true.
‘Not yet, maybe. But people forget, and in time — ’ he shrugged ‘ — who knows what may happen? Until then, we carry on with our lives and our businesses, doing the best that we can.’ For a moment he rubbed his scalp furiously. Then he said: ‘What business are you in? The only reason I ask is that I hoped that there might be some way in which I could repay you for helping Fräulein Hartmann. Such as putting a little business your way, perhaps.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s not necessary. If you really want to know, I’m in imports and exports. But to be frank with you, Herr König, I helped her because I liked the smell of her scent.’
He nodded appreciatively. ‘That’s natural enough. She is very lovely.’ But slowly, rapture gave way to perplexity. ‘Strange though, don’t you think? The way you were both picked up like that.’
‘I can’t answer for your friend, Herr König, but in my line of work there are always business rivals who would be glad to see me out of the way. An occupational hazard, you might say.’
‘By Fraulein Hartmann’s account, it’s a hazard to which you seem more than equal. I heard that you handled that Russian captain quite expertly. And she was most impressed that you could speak Russian.’
‘I was a plenny,’ I said, ‘a POW in Russia.’
‘That would certainly explain it. But tell me, do you believe that this Russian can be serious? That there were charges made against Fräulein Hartmann?’
‘I’m afraid he was very serious.’
‘Have you any idea where he could have got his information?’
‘No more than I have about how he came to have my name. Perhaps the lady has someone with a tooth against her.’
‘Maybe you could find out who. I’d be prepared to pay you.’
‘Not my line,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘The chances are that it was an anonymous tip-off. Probably done out of spite. You’d be wasting your money. If you’ll take my advice you’ll just give the Ivan what he wants and pay up. Two hundred is not a lot of coal to get a name off a file. And when the Ivans decide to keep a dog away from a bitch it’s best to settle the account without any trouble.’
König smiled and then nodded. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said. ‘But you know, it has occurred to me that you and this Ivan are in it together. It would after all be a nice way of raising money, wouldn’t it? The Russian puts the squeeze on innocent people, and you offer to act as intermediary.’ He kept on nodding as he surveyed the subtlety of his own scheme. ‘Yes, it could be very profitable for someone with the right kind of background.’
‘Keep going,’ I laughed. ‘Maybe you can make an ox out of an egg.’
‘Surely you admit that it’s possible.’
‘Anything is possible in Vienna. But if you think I’m trying to give you some chocolate for a lousy two hundred, that’s your affair. It may have escaped your attention, König, but it was your ladyfriend who asked me to walk her home, and you who asked me to come here. Frankly, I’ve got better things to polish.’ I stood up and made as if to leave.
‘Please, Herr Gunther,’ he said, ‘accept my apologies. Perhaps I was allowing my imagination to run away with me. But I must confess that this whole affair has me intrigued. And even at the best of times, I find myself suspicious with regard to so many things that happen today.’
‘Well, that sounds like a recipe for a long life,’ I said, sitting down again.
‘In my own particular line of work, it pays to be a little sceptical.’
‘What line of work is that?’
‘I used to be in advertising. But that is an odious, unrewarding business, full of very small minds with no real vision. I dissolved the company I owned and moved into business research. The flow of accurate information is essential in all walks of commerce. But it is something that one must treat with a degree of caution. Those who wish to be well-informed must first equip themselves with doubt. Doubt breeds questions, and questions beg answers. These things are essential to the growth of any new enterprise. And new enterprise is essential to the growth of a new Germany.’
‘You sound like a politician.’
‘Politics.’ He smiled wearily, as if the subject was too childish for him to contemplate. ‘A mere sideshow to the main event.’
‘Which is?’
‘Communism against the free world. Capitalism is our only hope of withstanding the Soviet tyranny, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘I’m no friend of the Ivans,’ I said, ‘but capitalism comes with its own particular faults.’
But König was hardly listening. ‘We fought the wrong war,’ he said, ‘the wrong enemy. We should have fought the Soviets, and only the Soviets. The Amis know that now. They know the mistake they made in letting Russia have a free hand in Eastern Europe. And they’re not about to let Germany or Austria go the same way.’
I stretched my muscles in the heat and yawned wearily. König was beginning to bore me.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘my company could use a man with your special talents. A man with your background. Which part of the S S was it that you were in?’ Noting the surprise that must have appeared on my face, he added: ‘The scar under your arm. Doubtless you too were keen to remove your SS tattoo before being captured by the Russians.’ He lifted his own arm to reveal an almost identical scar in his armpit.
‘I was with Military Intelligence – the Abwehr – when the war ended,’ I explained, ‘not the SS. That was much earlier.’
But he had been right about the scar, the result of an obliterating and excrutiatingly painful burn sustained from the muzzle flash of an automatic pistol I had fired underneath my upper arm. It had been that or risk discovery and death at the hands of the NKVD.
König himself offered no explanation for the removal of his own tattoo. Instead he proceeded to expand on his offer of employment.
This was all much more than I had hoped fcr. But I still had to be careful: it was only a few minutes since he had all but accused me of working in consort with Captain Rustaveli.
‘It’s not that working for someone else gives me the livers or anything,’ I said, ‘but right now I’ve got another bottle to finish.’ I shrugged. ‘Maybe when that’s empty . . . who knows? But thanks anyway.’
He did not seem offended that I had declined his offer, and merely shrugged philosophically.
‘Where can I find you if I ever change my mind?’
‘Fräulein Hartmann at the Casino Oriental will know where to contact me.’ He collected a folded newspaper from beside his thigh and handed it to me. ‘Open it carefully when you get outside. There are two $100 bills to pay off the Ivan, and one for your trouble.’
At that moment he groaned and took hold of his face, baring incisors and canines that were as even as a row of tiny milk-bottles. Observing my eyebrows and mistaking their inquiry for concern he explained that he was quite all right but that he had recently been fitted with two dental plates.
‘I can’t seem to get used to having them in my mouth,’ he said, and briefly allowed the blind, slow worm that was his tongue to squirm along the upper and lower galleries of his jaw. ‘And when I see myself in a mirror, it’s like having some perfect stranger grinning back at me. Most disconcerting.’ He sighed and shook his head sadly. ‘A pity really. I always had such perfect teeth.’
He stood up, adjusting the sheet around his chest, and then shook my hand.
‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Herr Gunther,’ he said with easy Viennese charm.
‘No, the pleasure was all mine,’ I replied.
König chuckled. ‘We’ll make an Austrian out of you yet, my friend.’ Then he walked off into the steam, whistling that same maddening tune.
23
There’s nothing the Viennese love more than getting ‘cosy’. They look to achieve this conviviality in bars and restaurants, to the accompaniment of a musical quartet comprising a bass, a violin, an accordion and a zither – a strange instrument which resembles an empty box of chocolates with thirty or forty strings that are plucked like a guitar. For me, this omnipresent combination embodies everything that was phoney about Vienna, like the syrupy sentiment and the affected politeness. It did make me feel cosy. Only it was the kind of cosiness you might have experienced after you had been embalmed, sealed in a lead-lined coffin, and tidily deposited in one of those marble mausoleums up at the Central Cemetery.
I was waiting for Traudl Braunsteiner, in the Herrendorf, a restaurant on Herrengasse. The place was her choice, but she was late. When at last she arrived her face was red because she had been running, and also because of the cold.
‘You have a less than Catholic air about you, the way you sit there in the shadows,’ she said, sitting down at the dinner table.
‘I work at that,’ I said. ‘Nobody wants a detective who looks as honest as the village postmaster. Being dimly lit is good for business.’
I waved to a waiter and we quickly ordered.
‘Emil’s upset that you haven’t been to see him lately,’ Traudl said, giving up her menu.
‘If he wants to know what I’ve been doing, tell him I’ll be sending him a bill for a shoe-repair. I’ve walked all over this damned city.’
‘You know he goes to trial next week, don’t you?’
‘I’m not likely to be able to forget it, what with Liebl telephoning nearly every day.’
‘Emil’s not about to forget it either.’ She spoke quietly, obviously upset.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘that was a stupid thing to say. Look, I do have some good news. I’ve finally spoken to König.’
Her face lit up with excitement. ‘You have?’ she said. ‘When? Where?’
‘This morning,’ I said. ‘At the Amalienbad.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He wanted me to work for him. I think it might not be a bad idea, as a way of getting close enough to him to find some sort of evidence.’
‘Couldn’t you just tell the police where he is so that they can arrest him?’
‘On what charge?’ I shrugged. ‘As far as the police are concerned they’ve already got their man cold. Anyway, even if I could persuade them to do it, König wouldn’t be so easy to clip. The Americans can’t go into the Russian sector and arrest him, even if they wanted to. No, Emil’s best chance is that I gain Konig’s confidence as quickly as possible. And that’s why I turned down his offer.’
Traudl bit her lip with exasperation. ‘But why? I don’t understand.’
‘I have to make sure that König believes I don’t want to work for him. He was slightly suspicious of the way in which I got to meet his girlfriend. So here’s what I want to do. Lotte’s a croupier at the Oriental. I want you to give me some money to lose there tomorrow night. Enough to make it look like I’ve been cleaned out. Which would give me a reason to reconsider König’s offer.’
‘This counts as legitimate expenses, does it?’
‘I’m afraid it does.’
‘How much?’
‘Three or four thousand schillings ought to do it.’
She thought for a minute and then the waiter arrived with a bottle of Riesling. When he had filled our glasses Traudl sipped some of her wine and said: ‘All right then. But only on one condition: that I’m there to watch you lose it.’
From the set of her jaw I judged her to be quite determined. ‘I don’t suppose it would do much good to remind you that it could be dangerous. It’s not as if you could accompany me. I can’t afford to be seen with you in case somebody recognizes you as Emil’s girl. If this weren’t such a quiet place I would have insisted that we met at your house.’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll treat you like you were a sheet of glass.’
There was no ignoring the fact that Lotte Hartmann was attractive. Some women, you look at them and calculate what modest length of time you would be willing to settle for. Generally, the better-looking the girl the less time with which you tell yourself you would be satisfied. After all, a really attractive woman might have to accommodate a lot of similar wishes. Lotte was the kind of girl with whom you could have been persuaded to settle for five steamy, unfettered minutes. Just five minutes for her to let you and your imagination do what you wanted. Not too much to ask, you would have thought. The way things happened, though, it looked like she might actually have granted me rather longer than that. Perhaps even the full hour. But I was dog-tired, and perhaps I drank a little too much of her excellent whisky to pay much attention to the way she bit her bottom-lip and stared at me through those black-widow eyelashes. I was probably supposed to lie quietly on her bed with my muzzle resting on her impressively convex lap and let her fold my big, floppy ears, only I ended up falling asleep on the sofa.
22
When I awoke later that same morning, I scribbled my address and telephone number on a piece of paper and, leaving Lotte asleep in bed, I caught a taxi back to my pension. There I washed, changed my clothes and ate a large breakfast, which did much to restore me. I was reading the morning’s Wiener Zeitung when the telephone rang.
A man’s voice, with only the smallest trace of a Viennese accent, asked me if it was speaking to Herr Bernhard Gunther. When I identified myself the voice said:
‘I’m a friend of Fräulein Hartmann. She tells me that you very kindly helped her out of an awkward spot last night.’
‘She’s not exactly out of it yet,’ I said.
‘Quite so. I was hoping that we could meet and discuss the matter. Fräulein Hartmann mentioned the sum of $200 for this Russian captain. Also that you had offered to act as her intermediary.’
‘Did I? I suppose I might have.’
‘I was hoping I might give you the money to give to this wretched fellow. And I should like to thank you, personally.’
I felt sure that this was König, but I stayed silent for a moment, not wishing to seem too eager to meet him.
‘Are you still there?’
‘Where do you suggest?’ I asked reluctantly.
‘Do you know the Amalienbad, on Reumannplatz?’
‘I’ll find it.’
‘Shall we say in one hour? In the Turkish baths?’
‘All right. But how will I recognize you? You haven’t even told me your name yet.’
‘No I haven’t,’ he said mysteriously, ‘but I’ll be whistling this tune.’ And with that he proceeded to whistle it down the line.
‘Bella, bella, bella Marie,’ I said, recognizing a melody that had been irritatingly ubiquitous some months before.
‘Precisely that,’ said the man, and hung up.
It seemed a curiously conspiratorial mode of recognition, but I told myself that if it was König, he had good reason to be cautious.
The Amalienbad was in the 10th Bezirk, in the Russian sector, which meant catching a number 67 south down Favoritenstrasse. The district was a working-class quarter with lots of dirty old factories, but the municipal baths on Reumannplatz was a seven-storeyed building of comparatively recent construction which, without any apparent exaggeration, advertised itself as the largest and most modern baths in Europe.
I paid for a bath and a towel, and after I had changed I went to find the men’s steam-room. This was at the far end of a swimming pool that was as big as a football field, and possessed only a few Viennese who, wrapped in their bath-sheets, were trying to sweat off some of the weight that was rather easy to gain in the Austrian capital. Through the steam, at the far end of the luridly-tiled room, I heard someone whistling intermittently. I walked towards the source of the tune, and took it up as I approached.
I came upon the seated figure of a man with a uniformly white body and a uniformly brown face: it looked almost as if he had blacked-up, like Jolson, but of course this disparity in colour was a souvenir of his recent skiing holiday.
‘I hate that tune,’ he said, ‘but Fraulein Hartmann is always humming it and I couldn’t think of anything else. Herr Gunther?’
I nodded, circumspectly, as if I had come there only reluctantly.
‘Permit me to introduce myself. My name is König.’ We shook hands and I sat down beside him.
He was a well-built man, with thick dark eyebrows and a large, flourishing moustache: it looked like some rare species of marten that had escaped on to his lip from some colder, more northerly clime. Drooping over König’s mouth, this small sable completed a generally lugubrious expression which started with his melancholy brown eyes. He was much as Becker had described him but for the absence of the small dog.
‘I hope you like a Turkish bath, Herr Gunther?’
‘Yes, when they’re clean.’
‘Then it’s lucky I chose this one,’ he said, ‘instead of the Dianabad. Of course the Diana’s war-damaged, but the place does seem to attract rather more than its fair share of incurables and other assorted lower humans. They go for the thermal pools they have there. You take a dip at your peril. You could go in with eczema and come out with syphilis.’
‘It doesn’t sound very healthy.’
‘I dare say that I’m exaggerating a little,’ König smiled. ‘You’re not from Vienna, are you?’
‘No, I’m from Berlin,’ I said. ‘I come and go from Vienna.’
‘How is Berlin these days? From what one hears the situation there is getting worse. The Soviet delegation walked out of the Control Commission, did it not?’
‘Yes,’ I said, ‘soon the only way in or out will be by military air transport.’
König made a tutting noise and rubbed his big hairy chest wearily. ‘Communists,’ he sighed, ‘that’s what happens when you make deals with them. It was terrible what happened at Potsdam and Yalta. The Amis just let the Ivans take what they wanted. A great mistake, which makes another war a virtual certainty.’
‘I doubt if anyone’s got the stomach for another one,’ I said, repeating the same line I had used on Neumann in Berlin. This was a fairly automatic reaction with me, but I genuinely believed it to be true.
‘Not yet, maybe. But people forget, and in time — ’ he shrugged ‘ — who knows what may happen? Until then, we carry on with our lives and our businesses, doing the best that we can.’ For a moment he rubbed his scalp furiously. Then he said: ‘What business are you in? The only reason I ask is that I hoped that there might be some way in which I could repay you for helping Fräulein Hartmann. Such as putting a little business your way, perhaps.’
I shook my head. ‘It’s not necessary. If you really want to know, I’m in imports and exports. But to be frank with you, Herr König, I helped her because I liked the smell of her scent.’
He nodded appreciatively. ‘That’s natural enough. She is very lovely.’ But slowly, rapture gave way to perplexity. ‘Strange though, don’t you think? The way you were both picked up like that.’
‘I can’t answer for your friend, Herr König, but in my line of work there are always business rivals who would be glad to see me out of the way. An occupational hazard, you might say.’
‘By Fraulein Hartmann’s account, it’s a hazard to which you seem more than equal. I heard that you handled that Russian captain quite expertly. And she was most impressed that you could speak Russian.’
‘I was a plenny,’ I said, ‘a POW in Russia.’
‘That would certainly explain it. But tell me, do you believe that this Russian can be serious? That there were charges made against Fräulein Hartmann?’
‘I’m afraid he was very serious.’
‘Have you any idea where he could have got his information?’
‘No more than I have about how he came to have my name. Perhaps the lady has someone with a tooth against her.’
‘Maybe you could find out who. I’d be prepared to pay you.’
‘Not my line,’ I said, shaking my head. ‘The chances are that it was an anonymous tip-off. Probably done out of spite. You’d be wasting your money. If you’ll take my advice you’ll just give the Ivan what he wants and pay up. Two hundred is not a lot of coal to get a name off a file. And when the Ivans decide to keep a dog away from a bitch it’s best to settle the account without any trouble.’
König smiled and then nodded. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said. ‘But you know, it has occurred to me that you and this Ivan are in it together. It would after all be a nice way of raising money, wouldn’t it? The Russian puts the squeeze on innocent people, and you offer to act as intermediary.’ He kept on nodding as he surveyed the subtlety of his own scheme. ‘Yes, it could be very profitable for someone with the right kind of background.’
‘Keep going,’ I laughed. ‘Maybe you can make an ox out of an egg.’
‘Surely you admit that it’s possible.’
‘Anything is possible in Vienna. But if you think I’m trying to give you some chocolate for a lousy two hundred, that’s your affair. It may have escaped your attention, König, but it was your ladyfriend who asked me to walk her home, and you who asked me to come here. Frankly, I’ve got better things to polish.’ I stood up and made as if to leave.
‘Please, Herr Gunther,’ he said, ‘accept my apologies. Perhaps I was allowing my imagination to run away with me. But I must confess that this whole affair has me intrigued. And even at the best of times, I find myself suspicious with regard to so many things that happen today.’
‘Well, that sounds like a recipe for a long life,’ I said, sitting down again.
‘In my own particular line of work, it pays to be a little sceptical.’
‘What line of work is that?’
‘I used to be in advertising. But that is an odious, unrewarding business, full of very small minds with no real vision. I dissolved the company I owned and moved into business research. The flow of accurate information is essential in all walks of commerce. But it is something that one must treat with a degree of caution. Those who wish to be well-informed must first equip themselves with doubt. Doubt breeds questions, and questions beg answers. These things are essential to the growth of any new enterprise. And new enterprise is essential to the growth of a new Germany.’
‘You sound like a politician.’
‘Politics.’ He smiled wearily, as if the subject was too childish for him to contemplate. ‘A mere sideshow to the main event.’
‘Which is?’
‘Communism against the free world. Capitalism is our only hope of withstanding the Soviet tyranny, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘I’m no friend of the Ivans,’ I said, ‘but capitalism comes with its own particular faults.’
But König was hardly listening. ‘We fought the wrong war,’ he said, ‘the wrong enemy. We should have fought the Soviets, and only the Soviets. The Amis know that now. They know the mistake they made in letting Russia have a free hand in Eastern Europe. And they’re not about to let Germany or Austria go the same way.’
I stretched my muscles in the heat and yawned wearily. König was beginning to bore me.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘my company could use a man with your special talents. A man with your background. Which part of the S S was it that you were in?’ Noting the surprise that must have appeared on my face, he added: ‘The scar under your arm. Doubtless you too were keen to remove your SS tattoo before being captured by the Russians.’ He lifted his own arm to reveal an almost identical scar in his armpit.
‘I was with Military Intelligence – the Abwehr – when the war ended,’ I explained, ‘not the SS. That was much earlier.’
But he had been right about the scar, the result of an obliterating and excrutiatingly painful burn sustained from the muzzle flash of an automatic pistol I had fired underneath my upper arm. It had been that or risk discovery and death at the hands of the NKVD.
König himself offered no explanation for the removal of his own tattoo. Instead he proceeded to expand on his offer of employment.
This was all much more than I had hoped fcr. But I still had to be careful: it was only a few minutes since he had all but accused me of working in consort with Captain Rustaveli.
‘It’s not that working for someone else gives me the livers or anything,’ I said, ‘but right now I’ve got another bottle to finish.’ I shrugged. ‘Maybe when that’s empty . . . who knows? But thanks anyway.’
He did not seem offended that I had declined his offer, and merely shrugged philosophically.
‘Where can I find you if I ever change my mind?’
‘Fräulein Hartmann at the Casino Oriental will know where to contact me.’ He collected a folded newspaper from beside his thigh and handed it to me. ‘Open it carefully when you get outside. There are two $100 bills to pay off the Ivan, and one for your trouble.’
At that moment he groaned and took hold of his face, baring incisors and canines that were as even as a row of tiny milk-bottles. Observing my eyebrows and mistaking their inquiry for concern he explained that he was quite all right but that he had recently been fitted with two dental plates.
‘I can’t seem to get used to having them in my mouth,’ he said, and briefly allowed the blind, slow worm that was his tongue to squirm along the upper and lower galleries of his jaw. ‘And when I see myself in a mirror, it’s like having some perfect stranger grinning back at me. Most disconcerting.’ He sighed and shook his head sadly. ‘A pity really. I always had such perfect teeth.’
He stood up, adjusting the sheet around his chest, and then shook my hand.
‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Herr Gunther,’ he said with easy Viennese charm.
‘No, the pleasure was all mine,’ I replied.
König chuckled. ‘We’ll make an Austrian out of you yet, my friend.’ Then he walked off into the steam, whistling that same maddening tune.
23
There’s nothing the Viennese love more than getting ‘cosy’. They look to achieve this conviviality in bars and restaurants, to the accompaniment of a musical quartet comprising a bass, a violin, an accordion and a zither – a strange instrument which resembles an empty box of chocolates with thirty or forty strings that are plucked like a guitar. For me, this omnipresent combination embodies everything that was phoney about Vienna, like the syrupy sentiment and the affected politeness. It did make me feel cosy. Only it was the kind of cosiness you might have experienced after you had been embalmed, sealed in a lead-lined coffin, and tidily deposited in one of those marble mausoleums up at the Central Cemetery.
I was waiting for Traudl Braunsteiner, in the Herrendorf, a restaurant on Herrengasse. The place was her choice, but she was late. When at last she arrived her face was red because she had been running, and also because of the cold.
‘You have a less than Catholic air about you, the way you sit there in the shadows,’ she said, sitting down at the dinner table.
‘I work at that,’ I said. ‘Nobody wants a detective who looks as honest as the village postmaster. Being dimly lit is good for business.’
I waved to a waiter and we quickly ordered.
‘Emil’s upset that you haven’t been to see him lately,’ Traudl said, giving up her menu.
‘If he wants to know what I’ve been doing, tell him I’ll be sending him a bill for a shoe-repair. I’ve walked all over this damned city.’
‘You know he goes to trial next week, don’t you?’
‘I’m not likely to be able to forget it, what with Liebl telephoning nearly every day.’
‘Emil’s not about to forget it either.’ She spoke quietly, obviously upset.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘that was a stupid thing to say. Look, I do have some good news. I’ve finally spoken to König.’
Her face lit up with excitement. ‘You have?’ she said. ‘When? Where?’
‘This morning,’ I said. ‘At the Amalienbad.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He wanted me to work for him. I think it might not be a bad idea, as a way of getting close enough to him to find some sort of evidence.’
‘Couldn’t you just tell the police where he is so that they can arrest him?’
‘On what charge?’ I shrugged. ‘As far as the police are concerned they’ve already got their man cold. Anyway, even if I could persuade them to do it, König wouldn’t be so easy to clip. The Americans can’t go into the Russian sector and arrest him, even if they wanted to. No, Emil’s best chance is that I gain Konig’s confidence as quickly as possible. And that’s why I turned down his offer.’
Traudl bit her lip with exasperation. ‘But why? I don’t understand.’
‘I have to make sure that König believes I don’t want to work for him. He was slightly suspicious of the way in which I got to meet his girlfriend. So here’s what I want to do. Lotte’s a croupier at the Oriental. I want you to give me some money to lose there tomorrow night. Enough to make it look like I’ve been cleaned out. Which would give me a reason to reconsider König’s offer.’
‘This counts as legitimate expenses, does it?’
‘I’m afraid it does.’
‘How much?’
‘Three or four thousand schillings ought to do it.’
She thought for a minute and then the waiter arrived with a bottle of Riesling. When he had filled our glasses Traudl sipped some of her wine and said: ‘All right then. But only on one condition: that I’m there to watch you lose it.’
From the set of her jaw I judged her to be quite determined. ‘I don’t suppose it would do much good to remind you that it could be dangerous. It’s not as if you could accompany me. I can’t afford to be seen with you in case somebody recognizes you as Emil’s girl. If this weren’t such a quiet place I would have insisted that we met at your house.’
‘Don’t worry about me,’ she said firmly. ‘I’ll treat you like you were a sheet of glass.’
