‘This is Kommissar Gunther,’ I said to the operator at the Alex. ‘Connect me with Kriminalassistant Korsch or Becker in the Murder Commission as quickly as possible, if you please.’ After another short wait Becker came on to the line.
‘I’m at Kindermann’s clinic,’ I explained. ‘We stopped to pick up the medical case history on Weisthor and Lange managed to get himself killed. He lost his temper and a piece of his neck. Kindermann was carrying a lighter.’
‘Want me to organize the meat wagon?’
‘That’s the general idea, yes. Only I won’t be here when it comes. I’m sticking to my original plan, except that now I’m taking Kindermann along with me instead of Lange.’
‘All right, sir. Leave it to me. Oh, incidentally, Frau Steininger called.’
‘Did she leave a message?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Nothing at all?’
‘No, sir. Sir, you know what that one needs, if you don’t mind me saying?’
‘Try and surprise me.’
‘I reckon that she needs -’
‘On second thoughts, don’t bother.’
‘Well, you know the type, sir.’
‘Not exactly, Becker, no. But while I’m driving I’ll certainly give it some thought. You can depend on it.’
I drove west out of Berlin, following the yellow signs indicating long-distance traffic, heading towards Potsdam and beyond it, to Hanover.
The autobahn branches off from the Berlin circular road at Lehnin, leaving the old town of Brandenburg to the north, and beyond Zeisar, the ancient town of the Bishops of Brandenburg, the road runs west in a straight line.
After a while I was aware of Kindermann sitting upright in the back seat of the Mercedes.
‘Where are we going?’ he said dully.
I glanced over my right shoulder. With his hands manacled behind his back I didn’t think he’d be stupid enough to try hitting me with his head. Especially now it was bandaged, something the two nurses from the clinic had insisted on doing before allowing me to drive the doctor away.
‘Don’t you recognize the road?’ I said. ‘We’re on our way to a little town south of Paderborn. Wewelsburg. I’m sure you know it. I didn’t think you would want to miss your S S Court of Honour on my account.’ Out of the corner of my eye I saw him smile and settle back in the rear seat, or at least, as well as he was able to.
‘That suits me fine.’
‘You know, you’ve really inconvenienced me, Herr Doktor. Shooting my star witness like that. He was going to give a special performance for Himmler. It’s lucky he made a written statement back at the Alex. And, of course, you’ll have to understudy.’
He laughed. ‘And what makes you think I’ll take to that role?’
‘I’d hate to think what might happen if you were to disappoint me.’
‘Looking at you, I’d say you were used to being disappointed.’
‘Perhaps. But I doubt my disappointment will even compare with Himmler’s.’
‘My life is in no danger from the ReichsFuhrer, I can assure you.’
‘I wouldn’t place too much reliance on your rank or your uniform if I were you, HauptSturmFuhrer. You’ll shoot just as easily as Ernst Rohm and all those S A men did.’
‘I knew Rohm quite well,’ he said smoothly. ‘We were good friends. It may interest you to know that that’s a fact which is well-known to Himmler, with all that such a relationship implies.’
‘You’re saying he knows you’re a queer?’
‘Certainly. If I survived the Night of Long Knives, I think I can manage to cope with whatever inconvenience you’ve arranged for me, don’t you?’
‘The ReichsFuhrer will be pleased to read Lange’s letters, then. If only to confirm what he already knows. Never underestimate the importance to a policeman of confirming information. I dare say he knows all about Weisthor’s insanity as well, right?’
‘What was insanity ten years ago merely counts as a treatable nervous disorder today. Psychotherapy has come a long way in a short time. Do you seriously believe that Herr Weisthor can be the first senior S S officer to be treated? I’m a consultant at a special orthopaedic hospital at Hohenlychen, near Ravensbruck concentration camp, where many S S staff officers are treated for the prevailing euphemism that describes mental illness. You know, you surprise me. As a policeman you ought to know how skilled the Reich is in the practice of such convenient hypocrisies. Here you are hurrying to create a great big firework display for the ReichsFuhrer with a couple of rather damp little crackers. He will be disappointed.’
‘I like listening to you, Kindermann. I always like to see another man’s work. I bet you’re great with all those rich widows who bring their menstrual depressions to your fancy clinic. Tell me, for how many of them do you prescribe cocaine?’
‘Cocaine hydrochloride has always been used as a stimulant to combat the more extreme cases of depression.’
‘How do you stop them becoming addicted?’
‘It’s true there is always that risk. One has to be watchful for any sign of drug dependency. That’s my job.’ He paused. ‘Why do you ask?’
‘Just curious, Herr Doktor. That’s my job.’
At Hohenwarhe, north of Magdeburg, we crossed the Elbe by a bridge, beyond which, on the right, could be seen the lights of the almost completed Rothensee Ship Elevator, designed to connect the Elbe with the Mittelland Canal some twenty metres above it. Soon we had passed into the next state of Niedersachsen, and at Helmstedt we stopped for a rest, and to pick up some petroleum.
It was getting dark and looking at my watch I saw that it was almost seven o’clock. Having chained one of Kindermann’s hands to the door handle, I allowed him to take a pee, and attended to my own needs at a short distance. Then I pushed the spare wheel into the back seat beside Kindermann and handcuffed it to his left wrist, which left one hand free. The Mercedes is a big car, however, and he was far enough behind me not to worry about. All the same, I removed the Walther from my shoulder-holster, showed it to him and then laid it beside me on the big bench seat.
‘You’ll be more comfortable like that,’ I said. ‘But so much as pick your nose and you’ll get this.’ I started the car and drove on.
‘What is the hurry?’ Kindermann said exasperatedly. ‘I fail to understand why you’re doing this. You could just as easily stage your performance on Monday, when everyone arrives back in Berlin. I really don’t see the need to drive all this way.’
‘It’ll be too late by then, Kindermann. Too late to stop the special pogrom that your friend Weisthor’s got planned for Berlin’s Jews. Project Krist, isn’t that what it’s called?’
‘Ah, you know about that do you? You have been busy. Don’t tell me that you’re a Jew-lover.’
‘Let’s just say that I don’t much care for lynch-law, and rule by the mob. That’s why I became a policeman.’
‘To uphold justice?’
‘If you want to call it that, yes.’
‘You’re deluding yourself. What rules is force. Human will. And to build that collective will it must be given a focus. What we are doing is no more than a child does with a magnifying-glass when it concentrates the light of the sun on to a sheet of paper and causes it to catch alight. We are merely using a power that already exists. Justice would be a wonderful thing were it not for men. Herr -? Look here, what is your name?’
‘The name is Gunther, and you can spare me the Party propaganda.’
‘These are facts, Gunther, not propaganda. You’re an anachronism, do you know that? You are out of your time.’
‘From the little history I know it seems to me that justice is never very fashionable, Kindermann. If I’m out of my time, if I’m out of step with the will of the people, as you describe it, then I’m glad. The difference between us
