Borodin smiled. 'Fuck you, Jew.'
Gadi snatched up a pillow, crushed it over Borodin's face and punched
him hard on his wounded shoulder. The muffled howl that followed did
not sound-human. Gadi pulled the pillow away.
'Across ... across the street,' Borodin croaked. 'Room 528 ...
the Stanley ... House.'
Gadi closed his brown hands around Borodin's throat and began to
squeeze. 'For Yosef,' he said softly.
Detective Schneider crossed the room and shouldered Gadi off of the
Russian. He crouched down beside him.
'Are you Yuri Borodin?' he asked tersely. 'Are you the man who killed
Major Harry Richardson?'
Borodin stared up with glassy eyes. He saw little chance of leaving
this room alive. His pale face wrinkled into a sneer. 'The Swastika
was a nice touch ... don't you think?'
Schneider sighed heavily. In his mind he saw the dim, overheated
bedroom where he and Colonel Rose had examined Harry's mutilated corpse.
In the close South African heat, it wasn't hard to recall. 'I should
let you bleed to death,' he growled.
'Fuck you too, you stinking German.'
While Hauer and the Israelis watched in disbelief, Schneider closed one
huge hand around Borodin's throat and squeezed with the remorseless
force of a root cracking concrete. Schneider did not see Hauer signal
to Gadi, or the two Israelis approach him from behind.
The moment Borodin's legs stopped thrashing, the Israeli commandos
seized him.
Schneider did not struggle, not even when Gadi took the pistol from his
pocket.
Hauer stepped forward and checked the scalp behind both of Schneider's
ears. Satisfied, he stepped back and motioned for the Israelis to
release him.
'I don't have the damned tattoo,' Schneider muttered.
In the awkward silence that followed, Hauer finally noticed the weak
moaning coming from somewhere inside the room. He walked around and
looked on the floor between the beds. Professor Natterman lay there,
deathly white, both hands clutching his side. 'Captain ... ?'
he whispered uncertainly.
Hauer knelt and examined the old man. The professor had been lying on
the bed when Schneider burst in, and he had been too, slow to seek
cover. Two bullets from Borodin's final spray had struck him.
One had nicked the flesh above his left hip, the other grazed his left
thigh. Hauer could see that the wounds were superficial, but the
professor obviously believed he was in danger of dying. He raised his
quivering arms to Hauer's collar and pulled him down to his face.
'There really is ... a copy, Captain,' he rasped. 'A copy of the
Spandau papers.'
Hauer pulled himself free of the old man's grasp. 'What did you say?'
'Tell Stern to remember the copy I made in Berlin!'
'What?'
Natterman nodded weakly. 'Stern ... was following me.
He saw me do it. I made a copy of the Spandau papers before I ever left
Berlin for the cabin. I mailed it to one of my old teaching assistants
for safekeeping. Kurt Rossman. If ...
if you get to Ilse, don't worry about the papers. Just get Ilse out.
Tell Stern to get Ilse out!'
Hauer sat stunned. He couldn't believe that through all the warnings
against photocopying the Spandau papers, Natterman had risked Ilse's
life by not admitting that he had already done so. As he opened his
mouth to rebuke the old man, Aaron Haber appeared at his side with a
canvas overnight bag. The young commando withdrew a kit containing
@yne, Xylocaine, sutures, syringes, gauze bandages, a blood-pressure
indicator, morphine, and a cornucopia of emergency drugs. 'We came
prepared for casualties,' he said. He propped Natterman's legs on some
pillows to max the flow of blood to his brain.
Hauer stood up and gave his full attention to Schneider.
'What's your story, Detective?'
Schneider produced a handkerchief and wiped some blood from his face.
'I've come here to help you, Captain. You are in a great deal of
trouble in Berlin. Both you and Sergeant Apfel are wanted for murder
there.'
'I'm no murderer,' Hauer said gruffly.
'I didn't say you were. I know all about the Spandau papers, Captain. I
know about Phoenix. I'm working with the Americans, with Colonel Rose
of the U.S. Army. That's how I traced you.'
'I suppose you want the Spandau papers?'
Schneider shrugged. 'Only if they can help to crush Phoenix.'
Hauer digested this slowly. 'Why did you kill that Russian?'
'He killed an American intelligence officer named Richardson.
Richardson was the man who discovered that Phoenix extends into East
Germany as well as West Berlin.'
'I've known that for months.'
'Then why didn't you report it?'
Hauer snorted. 'Report it? Phoenix has men in the police department,
the BND, the West Berlin Senate, the federal - government in Bonn, and
all the states. If I'd reported what I knew to the wrong person, you
and your Kripo friends would have been visiting me at the morgue twelve
hours later.'
Schneider nodded slowly. 'The Americans can help you, Captain.
Colonel Rose will help.'
'You said this Russian here already killed one American officer.
That kind of help I don't need.' Hauer studied the big German.
'Why do you think I should trust you?'
'Because I saved your life.'
Hauer shrugged. 'Anyone from Phoenix would have killed those Russians
just as quickly as. you did. They can't afford to let the Russians
know what Phoenix truly exists for. Not yet.'
Schneider met Hauer's eyes. 'Come back with me to Berlin, Captain. Help
us root out Funk and his men. Colonel Rose would like nothing better
than to order an assault on Abschnitt 53. But his hands are tied. His
