tried to ignore the voices outside, but it was impossible.
'He died in an auto accident early this evening,' Ochs was saying.
'My brother called me. A horrible thing. Fourcar pileup.'
'Why do you exit here?' asked the young officer sharply.
'Braunschweig lies due west.'
Ochs tried to think of what Hauer had told him to say, but he hesitated
a second too long.
'Open the trunk, please,' the policeman ordered. 'You may remain in the
car if you have an automatic release.'
With his heart in his throat, Ochs slowly reached for the button.
'Why is this taking so long?' Frau Ochs cried suddenly.
'He's only doing his job, Bernice,' Ochs said, his heart pounding.
'The men we're after murdered two policemen,'@ the young man answered
stiffly. 'They must be brought to justice.' He looked over at the van
and motioned toward the Jaguar's boot.
The surly sergeant who had smashed Rykov's leg walked to the rear of the
Jaguar. He drummed his fingers on the boot lid, waiting for Ochs to
release the catch.
Inside, Hans tensed like a coiled spring. Hauer shoved his Walther deep
into the spare tire receptacle, praying it wouldn't be spotted until
they were safely away from the vehicle. Just as he got the pistol
covered, the catch popped open. The lid rose a little, then the
sergeant flipped it all the way up. Seeing the old blanket, he took
hold of a corner and jerked it aside.
Blinding glare from the checkpoint spotlights struck Hans and Hauer full
in the face, illuminating their twisted bodies.
The big policeman froze. This tiny compartment was the last place he
had expected to find the fugitives. He groped clumsily for his gun.
Squinting into the light, Hauer discerned the outlines of the
policeman's face. 'Steiger!' he hissed through gritted teeth.
The policeman gaped in surprise, then leaned low over the trunk.
'Dieter!' he whispered. 'What the hell are you doing?'
Hauer shook his head violently.
Sergeant Steiger glanced around the boot lid at his companion, who was
still questioning Ochs. Then he leaned lower and looked into Hauer's
eyes. 'Dieter, was it you?' he whispered. 'Did you kill Weiss?'
Hauer shook his head still more violently. 'Funk, ' he spat.
'That bastard ordered it.'
Steiger straightened up and glanced over the trunk lid, past his
partner, to the American checkpoint, and then farther on to where the
East German Vopos waited. He made a hard decision very fast. Leaning
back over the boot, he shoved down hard on the car frame with his thighs
and hands, giving the impression of checking for a false bottom.
Then he stood up, glanced once at Hauer, and slammed the lid.
'Nothing here,' he called to his partner. 'Suitcases.'
Steiger sauntered to the police van and picked up his cigarette.
His partner was still questioning Ochs.
'This is highly irregular,' the young man said officiously.
What's happening? Ochs thought wildly. Why didn't that policeman jerk
them out of the boot? 'My wife is very upset, Officer,' he stammered.
'There's an old synagogue in East Berlin-in the Kollwitzstrasse, not far
from here. She was practically raised in that synagogue. Before the
war, of course' '
'You are Jewish?' the policeman asked sharply.
Ochs heard blood roaring in his ears. Memories of his youth flooded
into his mind. Midnight knocks at his door ...
screams for help ignored-'Yes,' he answered quietly. 'We are Jewish.'
The young man smiled and handed back Ochs's papers.
'There is also a very beautiful synagogue in Braunschweig,' he said.
'You must see it. I spent my summers there as a boy.
That's why I asked.'
Ochs swallowed the lump in his throat. 'Thank you. Yes, we've seen it
many times.' With a shaking hand he shifted into first gear.
'You have your money ready for the Vopos?' the policeman asked.
'You know you must change twenty-five Deutschemarks as you cross over.'
'I've got it, thank you. Right here.' The old tailor patted his breast
pocket. He let out the clutch pedal and moved slowly away from the van.
Crushing out his cigarette, Sergeant Steiger stepped away from the
police van and waved to the West German checkpoint guards. They raised
the barrier from inside their booth and let the Jaguar pass unmolested.
Ochs rolled to a stop on the East German side. In the boot, Hans held
his breath and listened for the voices of the Vopos. He heard Ochs
inquire about the exchange rate, complaining a little but not too much.
The wait seemed interminable to Hans, but at last the red-and-white post
lifted and the Jaguar glided slowly past the dragon's teeth, barbed
wire, minefields, and machine gun towers that fortified the eastern side
of the Wall.
'Where are we now?' Hans whispered.
'Swinging south around the city, I hope,' Hauer replied.
'Would you mind getting your knee out of my balls?'
Hans squirmed in the darkness. His heart was still racing.
'Why didn't that sergeant arrest us?'
'Steiger and I go back a long way. He was with me on the Baader-Meinhof
case that got me my captain's bars. Stormed a house with me.'
'But if there's a warrant for our arrest-'
'He could be arrested too. He knows that. But he also knows Funk and
his kind.
Mealy-mouthed bureaucrats who've never seen the real Berlin, never had
to face down a crazy kid with a gun. Steiger asked me if I killed
Weiss, I said no. That was enough for him.'
'How long will it take us to cross the DDR?'
'If we get out of East Berlin, you mean? Depends on the old man.
We're taking the long way around, but it shouldn't take over two hours
to reach the Marienborn-Helmstedt crossing. If we make it, we'll leave
the Ochses at Helmstedt and you can drive us from there.'
Hans made an uncertain sound of acknowledgment.
'Don't tell me,' Hauer said. 'You've never been to this cabin.'
'Actually, I haven't. But I'll recognize it when we get there.
I've seen dozens of pictures.'
