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Authors: Volker Kutscher

Babylon Berlin (50 page)

BOOK: Babylon Berlin
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‘What the hell happened here?’ Rath asked brusquely. ‘Start at the beginning.’

Schäffner stood to attention. That was the good thing about these hobbyist soldiers. They still treated Prussian officers with respect.

‘Well, Inspector,’ Hermann Schäffner began. ‘When the electricity cut out, I didn’t think anything of it at first.’ He swallowed before continuing. ‘I changed the fuse and was surprised when it blew again straightaway. So I went through the building, checking if everything was in order with the electrics. And it was, at least in the front building. It was only when I got to the rear building that I saw the water coming towards me on the stairs. Immediately I thought something’s not right here, and went in.’

‘So you have a key?’

‘Of course! They’re always hanging in my little workshop in the yard.’

‘What did you see?’

‘I was just about to say. Water everywhere, more than now, Margarete has got rid of most of it already. And then I heard water splashing and went into the bathroom. Well, there he was inside the tub. Dead as a doornail.’

‘Who?’

‘Müller, the one who lives…’ he corrected himself: ‘…lived…’

‘And where is he now?’

‘The undertaker’s collected him already,’ said one of the cops. ‘We didn’t know that Homicide would be coming out. It happened hours ago.’ He cleared his throat, as if embarrassed by the justification. ‘We had the corpse examined by a doctor, Inspector. Everything by the book. When he confirmed the man had died from an electric shock, we didn’t see the need…’

‘Electric shock?’

The cop pointed towards the electric hairdryer lying on a wooden stool. ‘This was in the bathtub…’

‘I pulled the plug,’ Schäffner explained when he saw Rath’s questioning gaze, ‘as soon as I saw the mess. I also turned the water off, the tub was already overflowing.’

Now the bathtub was empty, and there was only a tidemark to show that Herr Müller/Selenskij had used it from time to time.

‘So if an appliance like this falls into the water, it can kill you?’ Rath asked.

‘Modern times, modern accidents,’ the second cop said with a shrug of the shoulders.

‘I probably dealt him a second blow when I changed the fuse,’ Schäffner moaned, ‘but how was I to know!’

‘Now don’t go blaming yourself! We’ve talked about that already,’ the cop comforted him. ‘The man didn’t survive the first electric shock.’

‘Isn’t this a little unusual?’ Rath asked.

‘What?’ the cop asked. All three looked at Rath quizzically. Somehow he had the impression that Schäffner and the cops were old friends, which wouldn’t be too surprising. The 106th precinct was located on Luisenufer too, just a few houses further along.

‘That a man was using an electric hairdryer,’ Rath continued. ‘Aren’t they more women’s things?’

‘I knew Herr Müller pretty well,’ Schäffner said hastily. ‘He’s always used one, ever since they’ve been around. Not that he was a queer; he just wanted to impress the ladies. He always wanted to look chic.’

Chic? Rath remembered Selenskij differently. The tide mark in the bathtub told a different story too.

‘You say you knew him pretty well,’ he asked. ‘Then you must have known that Herr Müller wasn’t actually called Müller, but Selenskij, and that he was Russian?’

Schäffner looked at him wide-eyed.

‘What? Don’t talk nonsense.’

‘He’s even registered at this address under the name Selenskij. As caretaker, surely you must have known that!’

Schäffner gazed at the two cops uncertainly. ‘What does your colleague want from me?’ he asked. ‘It’s not a crime to know your tenants, is it?’

‘I’d like to speak with you in private, Herr Schäffner,’ Rath said. ‘Should we go to your flat? Or would you prefer to come down to the station?’

Hermann Schäffner preferred to remain in his flat.

 

He didn’t lead Rath into the living room with its enormous yellow chairs. Instead, they sat in the kitchen on hard stools. From his perch, Rath could keep an eye on the courtyard. The cops had remained outside, likewise Margarete Schäffner. He had requested a few people from Forensics and forbidden the caretaker’s wife from wringing any more of the bathwater into the pail. Through the kitchen window he watched her talking and gesticulating animatedly with the three police officers whom Rath had likewise ordered into the courtyard to await the arrival of ED. She probably didn’t have a good word to say about that arrogant upstart of a detective inspector, who had upset the peaceful order of her tenement block.

Hermann Schäffner rocked back and forth on his stool, clearly uncomfortable. Rath didn’t say anything for the time being, but simply lit a cigarette.

‘You knew Herr Selenskij for a long time, then?’ he asked suddenly.

Schäffner hummed and hawed. He didn’t know what to do with his hands.

‘Herr Schäffner, if you’ve got nothing to hide, then I suggest you talk. Otherwise, you’ll only make yourself a suspect in a murder inquiry.’

‘A murder inquiry?’

‘Herr Selenskij alias Müller was murdered.’

‘What are you talking about?’

Rath knew it was no accident the moment he had seen the hairdryer. A PROTOS hot air shower: the same model he had seen a week or so ago a few floors further up, in the Countess’s attic flat.

‘The hairdryer that fell into the bath didn’t belong to Herr Selenskij, and you know it.’

‘Hardly means I’m the murderer now, does it? Not when I got him the flat in the first place! Why would I want to kill him?’

‘What do I know? You wouldn’t be the first caretaker to have a run-in with his tenant.’

Schäffner could have got hold of the hairdryer. He had a key for every flat. Mind you, the Countess’s flat had been sealed off for a week, and the police seals were still in place; Rath had made sure of that before entering the Schäffners’s flat. Nevertheless, it was a murder the perpetrator had wanted to stage as an accident, and for some reason both Schäffner and his police friends were anxious not to challenge that assumption.

At any rate Rath’s accusation had worked. Schäffner was becoming agitated.

‘That’s just nonsense,’ the caretaker grumbled. ‘If I want someone out, then I chuck ‘em out on the street, like Brückner, the red swine. I don’t have to kill anyone!’

‘You said you were the one who got Herr Selenskij the flat?’

‘That’s right.’

‘So you have known him for a while?’

‘I got him the flat, yes. But I didn’t know him.’

‘Why?’

‘I’m not sure what you mean, chief.’

‘Why did you get him a flat when you didn’t know him?’

Schäffner hesitated. The conversation had taken a turn he didn’t like, and it was too late for him to do anything about it.

‘Come on then! Talk! I can always take you in.’

‘What do I know? I’m a philanthropist.’

‘Don’t talk rubbish. Why?’

‘Well, if you really must know, because a friend asked me to.’

‘A friend. From the SA?’

Schäffner nodded.

‘Who?’

‘You won’t know him!’

‘Who?’


Sturmhauptführer
Röllecke.’

The name didn’t mean anything to Rath. Likewise the rank.
Sturmhauptführer
? It didn’t exist either in the police force or the
Reichswehr
, only in the private army of the Nazis. Sounded like someone pretty high up. Schäffner claimed not to know Röllecke’s address. Well, he’d get hold of it somehow.

‘Why?’ Rath asked again, after he had made a note of the name.

‘Why what?’

‘Why was Selenskij to move in here? Did Röllecke tell you the reason?’

‘No, he didn’t. But I don’t refuse a comrade anything! He probably just wanted to do a favour for a friend.’

Rath nodded. He thought back to Gennat’s promise of the night before. The superintendent had wanted to help him look for a flat. Perhaps he didn’t need to anymore.

A vehicle rolled through the entrance gate and parked outside the rear building. Two men from Forensics climbed out, and one of the cops pointed towards the kitchen window.

‘So, Herr Schäffner, that’s it for now. Many thanks. Might I ask that you continue to place yourself at our disposal?’

‘Of course, Inspector.’

Rath issued brief instructions to the men from Forensics, before climbing back into the Opel.

 

He just managed to reach Heinrich-Roller-Strasse in time for the end of the school day. The bell rang as he parked the Opel by the cemetery wall directly opposite the school gate. He leaned against the vehicle, lit a cigarette and waited for the pupils to emerge. Only a few seconds after the bell had rung a horde of yelling children poured out onto the pavement. The five smokers were the last to appear. Horst Jezorek casually approached the vehicle, his four co-smokers close behind.

‘Here I am, Inspector!’

‘Good.’ Rath opened the car door. ‘Kalle, it would be good if you could come too. You ought to have a look at our rogues’ gallery.’

‘Really?’ Kalle beamed.

The pair were the envy of their classmates as they climbed into the vehicle.

‘Hey Froese,’ Hotte called to his smoking buddy. ‘Tell our parents we’re out running a few errands for old Koslovski, earning a few pennies.’

The boys even found the drive exciting. Rath took a little detour to make it worthwhile. That way, he could also avoid the traffic chaos at Alex. He crossed Frankfurter Allee and approached the Castle via Kaiserstrasse.

A little later, parked in the atrium, Hotte was amazed by the enormous glass roof. Meanwhile, Kalle’s eyes followed a riot squad as they raced through the central portal, and out onto Alexanderstrasse at breakneck speed.

‘It looks just like a train station,’ Hotte said.

‘So this is what the
Red Castle
looks like inside!’ Kalle said appreciatively. ‘And me right in the middle.’

Rath had promised the boys cake, and so he delivered them to Gennat.

‘I have two important witnesses for you here, Superintendent,’ he said. ‘The matter is to be dealt with in the strictest confidence.’ Rath winked at Gennat, who seemed to understand.

‘In the strictest confidence. Well, of course,’ he said. ‘Now, lads, take a seat. Do you want a slice of cake?’

Had anyone been listening at the door, they wouldn’t have been surprised. Buddha spoke to dangerous criminals in exactly the same way – and yielded astounding results.

While Trudchen Steiner served the cakes, Gennat took Rath to one side.

‘Strike lucky in the school, did you?’

‘Next to the school actually. The pair of them were smoking in the cemetery. We can’t tell their parents or teachers. I promised.’

Gennat nodded. ‘Leave the two of them to me, Inspector. I have a different assignment for you. You know the
Delphi
, don’t you?’

‘That’s where Countess Sorokina sang. As Lana Nikoros.’

‘That’s right. The place is still closed for renovation. About two hours ago, we received an anonymous tip-off that Countess Sorokina was hiding there. Could be a stupid prank, but head over there now with a few people from the 122nd precinct and take a look.’

Rath nodded. ‘OK, Superintendent.’ He hesitated a moment.

‘Was there something else?’ Gennat asked. ‘I don’t want to keep my young guests waiting too long.’

‘There was another fatality this morning, sir. Vitali Selenskij, the Russian we questioned a few weeks ago as part of the Kardakov case, and then released. I was just about to pay him a visit, because one of the boys I brought you claims he saw him in the cemetery. But the man was already in the mortuary car. Electric shock in the bath, a hairdryer.’

‘Strange.’

‘I thought so too. Police from the local precinct were already on the scene when I arrived, but the officers didn’t think it necessary to notify CID. I don’t believe it was an accident, so called Forensics out as a precaution.’

‘That ought to have been the responsibility of the officers on the scene. Bloody idiots! Every unnatural death has to be investigated by CID, even an accident! The inquiries of a few amateurs in uniform aren’t enough!’

Clearly, Gennat didn’t think much of the local constabulary.

Rath gave a brief report on what he had learned from Schäffner. He didn’t mention that it was the Countess’s hairdryer in Selenskij’s flat. For some reason he felt uneasy about it, maybe because all too often this case had left him feeling that someone was deliberately trying to put police off the scent.

 

When Rath stopped by his office briefly, it seemed that Erika Voss was desperate to see him.

‘There you are, Inspector. Superintendent Gennat has called at least a hundred times, and…’

‘It’s been taken care of.’

‘…and Administration would like to speak to you,’ she continued, ‘a Herr Rossberg. Finance Department. I’ve had him on the line at least twenty times as well. I’ve taken a note of his number.’

Rath was shocked. Was he supposed to take responsibility for the unnecessary search for Kardakov? The idiots from Finance would be better off talking to the commissioner, the search had been Zörgiebel’s idea.

‘Thank you, Fräulein Voss. Please put me through.’

The man on the other end of the line made it clear straightaway that it was best not to tangle with him.

‘Good day, Inspector! Can you please inform me why your telephone bill has suddenly rocketed?’

Rath couldn’t. Was Erika Voss using his continual absence to make private calls? Even if she was, how was that any of these idiots’ business?

‘My telephone bill? I’m sorry but I don’t have to justify any calls that are being made from my offi…’

‘I’m not talking about your office. Your private line. In case you’ve forgotten, the Free State of Prussia bears those costs as well!’

‘I’ve got no idea what you’re looking for! I haven’t had a private line for more than a week now!’

‘I haven’t received any notice of cancellation, and neither, clearly, has the
Reichspost
.’

‘I’ve moved out! I’m currently staying at a hotel. I forgot to cancel, but that’s not usually necessary when the telephone’s no longer being used.’

‘No longer being used? Then how do you explain all the calls? In the last week alone your telephone bill has trebled. Fortunately, the
Reichspost
notified us of this development in good time. The Prussian police has to make savings, Herr Rath, this is unacceptable! We will be sending you an invoice for the share of costs exceeding your normal allowance and then deducting it from your wages!’

BOOK: Babylon Berlin
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