had a drug problem too some years back. I am a trained engineer, you know? I had a very good job, lots of money. I got a little too fond of the heroin and I lost my job. With thanks to my marvellous wife Trude and the mercy and love of my saviour Jesus Christ I am now a clean and healthy person. I shall take you to Hamburg and introduce you to my church. A church is better than any hospital. Only the Lord can help people like us.’
‘Bless you,’ whispered Ned. ‘You are truly a Good Samaritan.’
‘I suppose,’ Dieter went on, after blushing slightly at the compliment, ‘that you do not have a passport?’
‘No,’ replied Ned. ‘I’m afraid I don’t.’
‘They do not always require them at the border, but even if they do not, the customs will certainly need to check my consignment papers. It is better they do not see you. We are ten miles away. I shall stop at the next filling-station and you must hide amongst the cargo. They do not search.’
‘Let me give you some money for the diesel.’
For a terrible moment Ned thought that he had said something wrong. Perhaps diesel was a thing of the past and lorries were now fuelled by methane, or hydrogen or God knew what else.
‘Money? I do not want your money,’ Dieter said. ‘I do this for my Saviour. That is my reward.’
As they drove the ten miles to the filling station, Ned, as gently as he dared, probed Dieter about his drug habit and how much money it had cost him.
‘Heroin is that expensive?’ he said wonderingly.
‘Sure, but it is cheaper if you smoke it,’ Dieter said. ‘You must know this, surely? What was your drug?’
‘Cannabis.’
‘Your family sent you to a hospital for
‘My parents are very old-fashioned,’ Ned said, uncomfortably aware that there was much about the world he had yet to learn.
Approaching the traffic-lights at the outskirts of Hamburg, Ned felt a pang of guilt as he grabbed his oilskin bag, opened the door and jumped down onto the street.
‘Sorry, Dieter,’ he called back into the cabin. ‘But I really don’t think your church can help me.’
Dieter shook his head sorrowfully and pulled away with a hiss of brakes and a big double honk from his horn. Ned skipped aside and waved and waved until the lorry disappeared around a corner. He hoped that Dieter could at least see this last gesture in his wing-mirrors and know that his help had been appreciated.
Which indeed it had been. Ned had been crammed amongst the bales of pulp for no more than an hour either side of the border. The doors at the back had not even been opened, though the side of the lorry right next to Ned’s ear had been slapped twice as they had been waved through, causing him a ringing in the ears which was still with him. Dieter was amused and teased him about it all through Schleswig-Holstein.
‘It was the Lord speaking to you, Karl. Take my word for it.’
Ned turned now and looked around him. It was getting late and there was much to do. At a small Sparkasse he changed his kroner into Deutschmarks, then crossed the street to the underground station and took a train to St Pauli. He had a strong feeling that Babe was watching him now and would disapprove violently of what he was about to do.
From St Pauli he crossed the street into the Reeperbahn. Sitting at a window in the Bar Bemmel, opposite the Lehmitz, he sat nursing a glass of milk as the street outside warmed up into a whirl of touristic Friday night frenzy. The lights, the colour, the noise, the music were all absolutely alien to him. He saw men and women with jewellery and metal bars affixed to their noses, ears and eyebrows. He saw black men with dyed blonde hair, and orientals with orange hair. He saw men passing by holding hands. Once a woman with a shaved head poked her tongue out at him as she passed. There had been what looked like a metal stud in her tongue. Ned blinked and swallowed hard.
‘Oh, brave new world, that has such creatures in it … he murmured to himself and shook his head, like a dog that has just taken a bath.
At the U-Bahn station he had bought a map and three tourist information booklets which he had read twice through before a waitress approached him and told him that if he was going to stay here he would need to drink more than one single glass of milk over the course of two hours.
‘Of course,’ said Ned. ‘Bring me one of those,’ he commanded, pointing at a pink looking cocktail at the table next to his.
‘All cocktails five marks,’ said the waitress.
Ned supposed (indeed had seen) that his Danish fisherman’s outfit of jeans, thick white pullover and donkey-jacket were not the usual habiliments favoured by the night people of Hamburg and he smiled understandingly as he produced a ten mark note.
‘I have been fishing all day. Keep the change and have a drink yourself.’
The suspicious scowl was instantly replaced by a happy grin. ‘Thank you, sir!’
‘Er, I forgot to ask,’ he said when the cocktail arrived. ‘What’s in it exactly?’
‘Cranberry, grapefruit and vodka,’ came the reply. ‘It’s called a Sea Breeze.'
‘Good title,’ said Ned, sipping cautiously. ‘Mm … delicious.’
‘You’re are a tourist in Hamburg?’ The waitress pointed at the map and guides on the table in front of Ned.
‘That’s right. Just looking for a good time. Is this a dangerous area?’
‘The Reeperbahn? No!’ she laughed at the idea. ‘Once maybe, perhaps yes, but today it is all just businessmen and tourists.’
‘Ah,’ said Ned, ‘so there are no drug dealers or anything like that?’ He put the question innocently enough, but held the waitress’s eyes steadily.
She leaned forward to wipe down his table and whispered in his ear. ‘You looking for something perhaps? You can pay?’
‘I
‘I’ll call my friend. He knows people. Are you interested in going
Ned pondered her strange use of these American English phrases before the meaning became apparent to him.
‘Ah, I understand,’ he said.
‘Okay.’ She looked a little surprised. ‘I’ll see what I can do.’
‘Thank you… er, I don’t know your name.
‘Cosima.’
‘Thank you, Cosima. Karl Freytag at your service.
Ned watched as Cosima went behind the bar to make a phone call. After less than thirty seconds she put down the phone and nodded to him. He nodded back and raised his glass to her in salutation. Picking up his oilskin, he went to the gents to prepare for his meeting.
The man who came into the Bar Bemmel half an hour later was older than Ned, perhaps as old as fifty, which surprised him. He looked more like a successful publisher or prosperous advertising executive than the tattooed leather-jacketed gangster that Ned had imagined.
‘Gunther. I understand that you are anxious to do business,’ said the man sitting down without a handshake. ‘How may I assist you, Herr Freytag?’
‘I want you to take what I am holding under the table,’ said Ned. ‘It is a syringe… don’t worry it’s capped.’
‘Hey listen,’ said Gunther, starting to rise. ‘I’m in the business of selling, not buying.’
‘Then find me someone who
Gunther paused. ‘How much?’
‘I have half a million marks worth, which you can at least double if you cut it sensibly. I’ll take four hundred thousand in cash, a usable credit card and any contact that will allow me to buy a passport.’
Gunther looked Ned right in the eyes for perhaps five seconds before reaching under the table and taking the syringe.
‘Give me some more for testing.’
Ned was prepared for this. ‘Leave two thousand marks as a deposit,’ he said.
Gunther nodded and Ned passed a small vial under the table.
‘I make a phone call,’ Gunther stood up and took a small mobile phone from his pocket, moving away out of earshot. Ned watched him light a cigarette, dial and speak into the phone. He marvelled at the technology and wondered what the range of such telephones might be. Ned was too far away from Gunther to be able to pick up any of his conversation, but when he returned to the table everything seemed set up and he smiled a brief, tight smile.
‘Your two thousand’s in there,’ he said dropping a cigarette packet on the table. ‘I shall return in one hour. If everything is satisfactory we will go together to a place where the rest of your goods will also be checked out. Cosima is watching you. If you leave with my two thousand marks before I return, you will be followed and dealt with. Dealt with very harshly. If all goes well a passport can be ready for you in two days, the credit card and cash you will have tonight. You understand and approve?’
‘Perfectly,’ Ned extended his hand and smiled. ‘A bottle of champagne will await your return.’
Five minutes after Gunther had gone, Ned called Cosima over to him.
‘Thank you, Cosima,’ he said handing her a hundred mark note. ‘You have been very kind.’
Cosima smiled and tucked the note into her apron. ‘You’re welcome.’
‘So Gunther is your boyfriend?’
She laughed at this. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘He’s my father.’
Ned tried not to look surprised. ‘I see. Oh, tell me something, Cosima,’ he said, a thought occurring to him. ‘Which, in your opinion, is the best hotel in Hamburg?’
She looked at Ned through half closed eyes, like an artist sizing up a model. ‘For you, I should say the Vier Jahreszeiten on Neuer Jungfernstieg. Very classy. Very old-fashioned. Just like you.’
‘You flatter me. One more thing, before you bring me a cup of coffee and a glass of milk.’ The effect of the Sea Breeze was making him dizzy and light-headed. ‘Will I find a decent clothes shop in the area still open in an hour or so? I need some luggage too.’
