Two hundred is not a lot of coal to get a name off a file. And when the Ivans decide to keep a dog away from a bitch it’s best to settle the account without any trouble.’
Konig smiled and then nodded. ‘Perhaps you are right,’ he said. ‘But you know, it has occurred to me that you and this Ivan are in it together. It would after all be a nice way of raising money, wouldn’t it? The Russian puts the squeeze on innocent people, and you offer to act as intermediary.’ He kept on nodding as he surveyed the subtlety of his own scheme. ‘Yes, it could be very profitable for someone with the right kind of background.’
‘Keep going,’ I laughed. ‘Maybe you can make an ox out of an egg.’
‘Surely you admit that it’s possible.’
‘Anything is possible in Vienna. But if you think I’m trying to give you some chocolate for a lousy two hundred, that’s your affair. It may have escaped your attention, Konig, but it was your ladyfriend who asked me to walk her home, and you who asked me to come here. Frankly, I’ve got better things to polish.’ I stood up and made as if to leave.
‘Please, Herr Gunther,’ he said, ‘accept my apologies. Perhaps I was allowing my imagination to run away with me. But I must confess that this whole affair has me intrigued. And even at the best of times, I find myself suspicious with regard to so many things that happen today.’
‘Well, that sounds like a recipe for a long life,’ I said, sitting down again.
‘In my own particular line of work, it pays to be a little sceptical.’
‘What line of work is that?’
‘I used to be in advertising. But that is an odious, unrewarding business, full of very small minds with no real vision. I dissolved the company I owned and moved into business research. The flow of accurate information is essential in all walks of commerce. But it is something that one must treat with a degree of caution. Those who wish to be well-informed must first equip themselves with doubt. Doubt breeds questions, and questions beg answers. These things are essential to the growth of any new enterprise. And new enterprise is essential to the growth of a new Germany.’
‘You sound like a politician.’
‘Politics.’ He smiled wearily, as if the subject was too childish for him to contemplate. ‘A mere sideshow to the main event.’
‘Which is?’
‘Communism against the free world. Capitalism is our only hope of withstanding the Soviet tyranny, wouldn’t you agree?’
‘I’m no friend of the Ivans,’ I said, ‘but capitalism comes with its own particular faults.’
But Konig was hardly listening. ‘We fought the wrong war,’ he said, ‘the wrong enemy. We should have fought the Soviets, and only the Soviets. The Amis know that now. They know the mistake they made in letting Russia have a free hand in Eastern Europe. And they’re not about to let Germany or Austria go the same way.’
I stretched my muscles in the heat and yawned wearily. Konig was beginning to bore me.
‘You know,’ he said, ‘my company could use a man with your special talents. A man with your background. Which part of the SS was it that you were in?’ Noting the surprise that must have appeared on my face, he added: ‘The scar under your arm. Doubtless you too were keen to remove your SS tattoo before being captured by the Russians.’ He lifted his own arm to reveal an almost identical scar in his armpit.
‘I was with Military Intelligence – the Abwehr – when the war ended,’ I explained, ‘not the SS. That was much earlier.’
But he had been right about the scar, the result of an obliterating and excrutiatingly painful burn sustained from the muzzle flash of an automatic pistol I had fired underneath my upper arm. It had been that or risk discovery and death at the hands of the NKVD.
Konig himself offered no explanation for the removal of his own tattoo. Instead he proceeded to expand on his offer of employment.
This was all much more than I had hoped for. But I still had to be careful: it was only a few minutes since he had all but accused me of working in consort with Captain Rustaveli.
‘It’s not that working for someone else gives me the livers or anything,’ I said, ‘but right now I’ve got another bottle to finish.’ I shrugged. ‘Maybe when that’s empty… who knows? But thanks anyway.’
He did not seem offended that I had declined his offer, and merely shrugged philosophically.
‘Where can I find you if I ever change my mind?’
‘Fraulein Hartmann at the Casino Oriental will know where to contact me.’ He collected a folded newspaper from beside his thigh and handed it to me. ‘Open it carefully when you get outside. There are two $100 bills to pay off the Ivan, and one for your trouble.’
At that moment he groaned and took hold of his face, baring incisors and canines that were as even as a row of tiny milk-bottles. Observing my eyebrows and mistaking their inquiry for concern he explained that he was quite all right but that he had recently been fitted with two dental plates.
‘I can’t seem to get used to having them in my mouth,’ he said, and briefly allowed the blind, slow worm that was his tongue to squirm along the upper and lower galleries of his jaw. ‘And when I see myself in a mirror, it’s like having some perfect stranger grinning back at me. Most disconcerting.’ He sighed and shook his head sadly. ‘A pity really. I always had such perfect teeth.’
He stood up, adjusting the sheet around his chest, and then shook my hand. ‘It was a pleasure meeting you, Herr Gunther,’ he said with easy Viennese charm.
‘No, the pleasure was all mine,’ I replied.
Konig chuckled. ‘We’ll make an Austrian out of you yet, my friend.’ Then he walked off into the steam, whistling that same maddening tune.
23
There’s nothing the Viennese love more than getting ‘cosy’. They look to achieve this conviviality in bars and restaurants, to the accompaniment of a musical quartet comprising a bass, a violin, an accordion and a zither – a strange instrument which resembles an empty box of chocolates with thirty or forty strings that are plucked like a guitar. For me, this omnipresent combination embodies everything that was phoney about Vienna, like the syrupy sentiment and the affected politeness. It did make me feel cosy. Only it was the kind of cosiness you might have experienced after you had been embalmed, sealed in a lead-lined coffin, and tidily deposited in one of those marble mausoleums up at the Central Cemetery.
I was waiting for Traudl Braunsteiner, in the Herrendorf, a restaurant on Herrengasse. The place was her choice, but she was late. When at last she arrived her face was red because she had been running, and also because of the cold.
‘You have a less than Catholic air about you, the way you sit there in the shadows,’ she said, sitting down at the dinner table.
‘I work at that,’ I said. ‘Nobody wants a detective who looks as honest as the village postmaster. Being dimly lit is good for business.’
I waved to a waiter and we quickly ordered.
‘Emil’s upset that you haven’t been to see him lately,’ Traudl said, giving up her menu.
‘If he wants to know what I’ve been doing, tell him I’ll be sending him a bill for a shoe-repair. I’ve walked all over this damned city.’
‘You know he goes to trial next week, don’t you?’
‘I’m not likely to be able to forget it, what with Liebl telephoning nearly every day.’
‘Emil’s not about to forget it either.’ She spoke quietly, obviously upset.
‘I’m sorry,’ I said, ‘that was a stupid thing to say. Look, I do have some good news. I’ve finally spoken to Konig.’
Her face lit up with excitement. ‘You have?’ she said. ‘When? Where?’
‘This morning,’ I said. ‘At the Amalienbad.’
‘What did he say?’
‘He wanted me to work for him. I think it might not be a bad idea, as a way of getting close enough to him to
