Rosa

“Nothing on our end,” said Hoffner.

“Good. Then our friend must have been successful.” Pimm took a quick turn; the buildings peeled past in a gray wash of stone and glass. “You know my associate?”

Little Franz was seated between them. The boy had found himself a scarf and was smoking a cigarette. A nice bit of wool, thought Hoffner. “Stepping up in the world, eh, Franz?”

Franz continued to gaze out the windshield, his tiny fingers wrapped around his cigarette as he exhaled a thin stream of smoke. In Pimm’s presence, Franz was a much tougher prospect. “I was told to come along,” said the boy, the “Herr Oberkommissar” conspicuously absent.

Pimm said, “He needs to learn sometime. You won’t hold it against him, will you?”

Hoffner nodded at the cigarette. “You have another?” Franz fished one from his pocket and handed it to Hoffner. “We’ll call it even, then.” Hoffner lit up.

Pimm took them west, making sure to keep clear of any residual scuff-ups along the way. The government had reacted quickly: armored cars and light artillery-vast metal rhinos standing sentry-had already cordoned off the streets leading into the square. It was difficult to tell just how many troops Ebert had sent in; at every turn there seemed to be another unit marching in formation: it was more than enough to conjure memories of early January.

“They’re going to make quick work of this,” said Pimm. “Wouldn’t want to be back in that square.”

“Yah,” Hoffner grunted. He continued to gaze out. “So. . what do you think, Franz? Was it worth it to get her out?” The boy seemed surprised to be asked; he shrugged lazily. Hoffner nodded to himself and then spoke across to Pimm. “I’d love to see the look on Braun’s face when they find she’s gone missing. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

Pimm shifted gears and said, “Just so long as you keep the Kripo out of my back pocket for the next few weeks, we’re settled.” He took another quick turn and Hoffner put a hand to the roof so as to keep from flattening the boy. “That was the agreement,” said Pimm as the car straightened. “You want to gum up the works with your friends in the Polpo, not my business. You don’t keep up your end with me, and I’ll bring her right back.”

Hoffner laughed quietly. “Fair enough.” He was glad to see little Franz following every word.

It was nearly ten when they pulled up to the construction fencing outside the Rosenthaler station, Pimm having doubled back when they had gotten far enough north to avoid any trouble. Even here, the sounds of Alexanderplatz crackled overhead through the rain: no one was venturing out, which made for a very private transport of the body up the ramp. At the ladder down into the site, the largest of the men hoisted Rosa onto his shoulder. He steadied his grip on the slick rungs and headed down. Three minutes later the small group, including Franz, stood in the main cavern. Pimm had set it up nicely with a few torches to brighten up the place.

“Perfect,” said Hoffner. “The last place Braun would look.”

Pimm nodded to his man to set her down; he then turned to Hoffner. “So we’re good here?” he said impatiently. Pimm had his hat in his hand and was fingering the water from the brim. “We’ve done our bit?”

Hoffner said, “I need to get her into one of the back caverns.”

Pimm motioned his men to the ladder. “Well, you enjoy that, then.” He placed his hat on his head as his men began to climb.

“Hold on,” Hoffner said with surprise. “I can’t do that on my own, not with my ribs.”

Pimm grabbed on to the ladder. “We’re on a schedule, Inspector. We got her here. You want her someplace else, that’s up to you.” He waved over to the boy. “You, too, Franz. Let’s go.”

Franz began to follow. Hoffner said, “At least leave me the boy. Forty minutes, an hour at the most. I’ll get someone. I need him to stay with the body.”

Pimm let out a frustrated breath. He turned to Hoffner. “All right. Fine. Forty minutes.” He took a step up the first rung and looked back at the boy. “You come by the office afterward. We’ll square it.” He waited for a nod from Franz and then headed up.

Five minutes later, Hoffner joined Pimm and his men in an alley across from the site. They all stood in the shadows, eyes fixed on the ramp.

“You could have had a career on the stage,” said Hoffner as he watched and waited.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” said Pimm. “You’re sure he’s-”

Franz appeared at the top of the ramp. He slipped on the wood and then bounded out into the square before heading south toward Alexanderplatz.

Hoffner stepped from the shadows and said, “I’m sure.”

A HERO OF THE REPUBLIC

Rosa lay quietly in the outline that had once been Mary Koop’s. They had done their best to scrub her clean of the grease. They had even clothed her. Even so, her hair was still slick, and her face had an odd shine to it, especially in the torchlight: she looked as if she had been swimming.

Hoffner was kneeling by her side, his coat heavy from the rain. He had been like this for several minutes, replaying the dream and the pebble and the sun in his eyes as he had tried to find her. Odd, he thought, to be alone with her now. She had been words to him, an image in his head, alive and defiant: here, she seemed so much less than that. This was death, a body-a tool-nothing more. She was being used again, and for that, Hoffner felt his only remorse.

He heard the sound of footsteps approaching from beyond the cavern’s opening, and he slowly tightened the grip around his pistol: he kept it low, hidden behind Rosa’s torso. From the sound of it, there were several men making their way back. Hoffner tried to pick out the exact number: it was the only way he knew to keep his mind focused.

A light began to grow, the beam bobbing to the rhythm of the steps as they drew closer. Hoffner heard a whispering of voices, indistinct words dulled by the wood and dirt. A single “There” broke through, and a moment later two young soldiers-Freikorps from their uniforms-stepped into the shadowed chamber. Immediately they raised their rifles, keeping Hoffner in their sights. Braun was directly behind them; he stepped past them as a second man appeared at the opening. The man had a strikingly handsome face and carried a small jar in his hands.

Braun spoke with his usual charm: “What a surprising sense of symmetry you have, Herr Oberkommissar. The Rosenthaler Platz. Wouters’s den. One might even say there’s a sentimental side to you.” Hoffner said nothing.

The second man now stepped forward. His focus was on Rosa. He seemed agitated. “They’ve removed the unguent.”

Braun put up a hand to stop him. “Step away from the body, Herr Oberkommissar.”

Hoffner remained where he was. “You can tell Herr Doktor Manstein that I’m quite harmless, Herr Braun. Especially when I’ve got two rifles aimed at my chest.”

Braun showed only a moment’s surprise. “And what else did you learn on your trip to Munich, Herr Oberkommissar?”

Hoffner spoke across to Manstein. “Your father-in-law did excellent work creating this little haven for Wouters, Herr Doktor. Naturally the idea was yours.”

Manstein studied Hoffner. He said nothing.

“I’m guessing the engineer Sazonov wasn’t much of an expense,” Hoffner continued. “Or his family. No reason to pay the dead.” Hoffner saw a glimmer of confirmation in the eyes. “Must have been difficult being away from Munich all that time. The only one who knew how to apply the Ascomycete 4 to Frulein Koop, the only one who could placate Wouters with the appropriate injections between escapades, though I’m sure Herr Direktor Schumpert was delighted to have his daughter and grandchildren in the city for such an extended period of time.”

Manstein stared at him without a trace of emotion. “Am I meant to be impressed?”

“But that’s not all you were good for, was it, Herr Doktor?” said Hoffner.

Manstein’s gaze grew colder still. “Can we shoot him now and get on with this?”

Hoffner looked at Braun. “That would make it quite a day for you, wouldn’t it, Herr Braun?”

“Even with your back up against it,” said Braun. “I will give you that.” Braun unclipped his holster. “You’re