‘Oh, Frau Zeff, of course I remember that. That is how I was able to find you now.’ Gruber seemed quite pleased with himself.
‘Well, I never found him,’ said Lola. ‘You must know that as well.’
Gruber tried to trick her. ‘You were seen together, Frau Zeff.’
‘Whoever told you that, Sergeant, is mistaken.’
‘And remind me, please, Frau Zeff, why were you looking for him?’
‘I told you: we were childhood friends. I was fond of him; I would like to see him again. That’s all.’
‘And yet you gave up looking for him?’
‘Sergeant, if you, with all your detective skills, haven’t been able to find him, how should I be expected to?’
Gruber was pleased to have his detective skills mentioned, but he would not be distracted. ‘Are you political, Frau Zeff?’
‘Political? No. I can’t afford to be political in my work, Sergeant.’
Gruber had been his usual careless self. He knew nothing about what sort of work she did.
‘I work at the Hotel zur Kaiserkrone, Sergeant. In fact, if I don’t leave shortly, I will be late for my shift.’
‘Well, Frau Zeff, why don’t we go there together, and we can continue our conversation on the way?’
Lola and Gruber walked side by side, and he imagined for a moment that they might be lovers, which made his head swim a little. He had forgotten how wonderful it felt having a pretty woman walking beside you. They got to the hotel and went in the service entrance, then through a narrow, dimly lit service corridor past the kitchen. ‘Here we are,’ said Lola. She opened a swinging door and they stepped through. Gruber found himself behind the bar in the very grand Mahogany Room with its high ceilings, its enormous chandeliers and mirrors, and colorful tapestries and paintings in gilt frames. He and Lola faced a long row of SS officers arrayed along the bar. They were young and fit. They were among their own, laughing, or deep in earnest discussion, completely at ease.
‘Who’s this then, Lolly, a new boyfriend?’ said a grinning lieutenant.
‘You know, Jürgen, you’re my one and only,’ said Lola with a laugh.
Gruber was knocked off balance. He was somewhere he hadn’t expected to be and definitely didn’t belong. The SS were an elite aristocracy and they regarded his sort of official, with his big belly and his ill-fitting brown uniform, as the fascist underclass. The storm troopers were thugs. Yes, they were useful for some tasks. But they were not serious political warriors, like the SS, highly trained and prepared to both kill and die for the Führer. The SA was the old guard, thick around the middle, out of shape, the remnants of an earlier, pre-Third Reich world. Gruber tried to laugh along with Lola’s joke, but the SS men just looked at him with their killer eyes.
Gruber would have liked to say he had stood with the Führer since the early days, when he had been an enforcer and they had been schoolboys. He had knocked heads in the Bürgerbräukeller. He had been part of the putsch. He thought of himself as one of the old lions, and these SS types as hyenas. They were after Willi Geismeier too – Gruber knew that from his various inquiries. He also knew that if he got to Geismeier first, they would soon be there too, circling, trying to steal his prey. And determined hyenas could kill a lion.
Still, Gruber thought he had several advantages over the SS and the Gestapo. First of all, he had worked with Willi Geismeier for years, and knew how he operated. Second, he doubted they knew anything about his own investigation. For instance, he was sure they knew nothing about the precinct logbook or Lola’s connection to Willi. And he didn’t for a minute buy her claim that she knew nothing about Willi’s whereabouts. It was a bit worrisome that she was friendly with some in the SS. He would have to be more careful now when it came to Lola Zeff.
He started following Lola. He followed her to and from work a few times, although he never went inside the Mahogany Room again. He questioned the hotel manager, Alex Kusinski, who could say only good things about Lola. Kusinski said he was certain she didn’t have a partner or boyfriend. ‘I would know,’ he said.
‘Nobody in the SS?’ said Gruber.
Kusinski just raised his eyebrows.
Gruber followed Lola to her parents’ house. She went there – usually on Tuesdays, her day off – for an early supper. He stood and watched in the small park across from their building. It was rainy and cold, and by the time she came out an hour and a half later, he was soaked and shivering.
One Sunday he followed her to Tullemannstraße. After a half hour, she left in the company of a little old lady. Willi had taught Lola how to tell if someone was following her. But this was the first time Lola had noticed Gruber. ‘Don’t be alarmed, Frau Schimmel,’ she said, ‘but I think we’re being followed. It’s the policeman I told you about.’
‘So that’s who he is,’ said Frau Schimmel. She had noticed him when they left her building. She knew all about being followed from her old Berlin days. The two women walked arm in arm to a cafe where they drank coffee and shared a slice of Linzertorte.
Gruber had the feeling that whenever he was following Lola, Willi was lurking somewhere behind him. And the feeling grew stronger all the time. Gruber would turn suddenly, hoping to catch him, but of course Willi was never anywhere to be seen.
It occurred to Gruber that if he were to arrest Lola, Willi would have to come to her defense. He would have to arrest Lola somewhere public, at night maybe, just to make sure Willi was there. But under what pretense could he arrest her? And if he were to arrest her, and Willi wasn’t nearby,
