'The handkerchief was on the bathroom floor,' said the scar. 'We figure that she might have hit him before she died. Anyway, we phoned the murder in to the IP on Karntnerstrasse. It seems the Amis have a file on this Gunther. There's an Ami on his way here now. From the Stiftskaserne. Matter of fact, we thought you might be him until we heard you call out for Frau Warzok. And saw the bag.'
I felt my ears prick up at the mention of the Stiftskaserne. This was where the headquarters of the U.S. Military Police in Vienna was located, on Mariahilferstrasse. But it was also the home of the American intelligence community in Vienna. I'd been there before. Back in the days when the CIA had been called the OSS.
'My clothes,' I said. 'I was expecting to be here for a couple of days.'
There was something about what these cops were telling me that just didn't add up. But there was no time now to quiz them further. If the Americans had a file on me, then it was equally possible they had a photograph, too. I had to get out of there, and fast. But how? If there's one thing cops like to hang on to it's a witness. Then again, if there's one thing they hate it's a forensic amateur--a member of the public who thinks he might be able to offer some advice.
'The Stiftskaserne,' I said. 'That's the 796th U.S. Military Police, isn't it? And the CIA. Not the IP. So this must be an intelligence matter, as well as a murder. I wonder what Britta could have got herself mixed up in that might involve the CIA.'
One cop looked at the other. 'Did we mention the CIA?'
'No, but it's obvious that they're involved from what you've already told me,' I said.
'Is it?'
'Of course,' I said. 'I was in the Abwehr during the war. So I know quite a bit about this kind of thing. Perhaps I can be of assistance when the Ami turns up. After all, I've met this Bernie Gunther. And I did know Britta Warzok. So if there's anything I can do to help catch her murderer, then obviously I'd like to help. As well as being a doctor, I also speak English. That might come in handy, too. It goes without saying that I can be discreet if this involves something top secret between the CIA and the Austrian police.'
The two cops were already looking like they wanted me gone from there, and as quickly as possible. 'Perhaps later on you could be of assistance, Doctor,' said the hat. 'When we've had a chance to examine the crime scene in further detail.' He picked up my bag and carried it to the door for me.
'We'll be in touch,' said the other cop, taking me by the arm, and encouraging me onto my feet.
'But you don't know where I'm staying,' I said. 'And I don't know your names.'
'Call us at Deutschmeister Platz and let us know later,' said the hat. 'I'm Inspector Strauss. He's Kriminalassistent Wagner.'
I stood up, affecting a show of reluctance to be gone from the apartment, and allowed myself to be steered to the door. 'I'm at the Hotel de France,' I lied. 'It's not far from here. Do you know it?'
'We know where it is,' said the hat patiently. He handed me my bag.
'All right,' I said. 'I'll call you later. Wait. What's your telephone number?'
The hat handed me his business card. 'Yes, please call us later,' he said, trying not to grimace too obviously.
I felt his hand in the small of my back and then I was out on the landing, with the door closing behind me. Pleased with my own performance I went quickly down the stairs and stopped outside the apartment beneath Britta Warzok's from where, allegedly, the phone call about the smell and the mail had originated. None of that felt plausible now. For one thing there was no smell detectable on this floor. And for another there was no nosey-parker neighbor peering out of the door to see what the police were up to. As there ought to have been if the story I had been told had been a true one.
I was about to continue with my swift exit when I heard footsteps in the hallway below and, glancing out of the second-floor window, I saw a black Mercury sedan parked on the street below. Deciding that it might be wise to avoid crossing the American's path, I knocked quickly at the door of the apartment.
After several agonizing seconds, the door opened to reveal a man wearing trousers and a vest. He was a hairy man. A very hairy man. Even his hair seemed to have smaller hairs growing on it. He made Esau look as smooth as sheet of window glass. I handed him the cop's business card and glanced nervously behind me as the mounting footsteps grew nearer. 'Sorry to disturb you, sir,' I said. 'I wonder if I might come in and have a word with you for a moment.'
THIRTY-FOUR
Esau looked at Inspector Strauss's business card for what seemed like an eternity before inviting me inside. I went in past him and smelled dinner. It didn't smell good. Someone had been using some old, worn-out fat in cooking whatever it was. He closed the door at just about the moment the Ami would have rounded the corner on the stairs and seen the second-floor apartment's door. I breathed a small sigh of relief.
The entrance to the apartment, like the one on the floor above, was as big as a bus station. There was a silver tray for mail by the front door and an umbrella stand made out of an elephant's foot. But it might just as easily have belonged to the large woman standing in the kitchen doorway. She was wearing a pinafore and was supporting herself on a pair of crutches, having only one leg. 'Who is it, Heini?' she asked.
'It's the police, dear,' he said.
'The police?' She sounded surprised. 'What do they want?'
I had been right after all. Clearly these people hadn't reported anything to the police at Deutschmeister Platz, or anywhere else for that matter.
'I'm very sorry to disturb you,' I said. 'But there's been an incident in the apartment upstairs.'
'An incident? What kind of incident?'
'I'm afraid I can't tell you too much at this stage,' I said. 'However, I was wondering when you last saw Frau Warzok. And when you did, if she was with anyone. Or if you heard anything unusual from upstairs, perhaps.'
'We haven't seen her in over a week,' said Heini, absently combing the hairs on his arms with his fingers. 'And then just for a minute or two. I thought she was away. Her mail's still there.'
The woman on crutches had maneuvered herself toward me. 'We don't really have much to do with her,' she said. 'We say hello and good morning. A quiet woman.'
'When she's around we never hear very much,' said Heini. 'Just her piano, and then only when the window is open in summer. She plays beautifully. Used to give concerts before the war. When people still had money for that kind of thing.'
'It's mostly children and their mothers who come to see her now,' said Heini's wife. 'She gives piano lessons.'
'Anyone else?'
They were quiet for a moment.
'There was someone, about a week ago,' said Heini. 'An Ami.'
'In uniform?'
'No,' he said. 'But you can tell, can't you? The way they walk. Their shoes. Their haircuts. Everything.'
'What did this Ami look like?'
'Well dressed. Nice sports jacket. Well-pressed trousers. Not tall. Not short. Average height, really. Glasses. Gold watch. Quite tanned, too. Oh yes, and another reason I knew he was an American. His car was parked outside. An American car. A green one with white tires.'
'Thank you,' I said, retrieving the inspector's business card. 'You've been most helpful.'
'But what's happened?' asked Heini's wife.
'If anyone asks, I didn't tell you,' I said. 'I shouldn't be saying anything at all. Not yet. But you're respectable people, I can see that. Not the kind of people to go around spreading idle talk about something like this. Frau Warzok is dead. Murdered, probably.'
'Murdered! Here?' She sounded shocked. 'In this building? In this district?'
'I've already said more than I should,' I told them. 'Look, one of my senior officers will speak to you in more detail later on. You'd best pretend that it's news to you when he does, all right? Or it might be my job.'
I opened the door a crack. I could hear no steps in the building. 'And you'd best lock the door behind me,' I said, and went out.
By now it was dark and it had started to snow again. I walked quickly out of the building and down onto the
