03 The Striker Portfolio by The Striker Portfolio (epub)

Author:The Striker Portfolio (epub)
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2017-11-21T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven : THE HARE

It was one of those buildings without a soul, a sorting-house for displaced persons, its design so modern that it set a trend that would never be followed: there is something already old-fashioned about black-and-teak matt mouldings and mushroom chairs. Glass is a precious material that can make a palace of a cave, playing with light and casting it into shadowed places, but there is no real point in constructing an entire building of it to prove that here we have open minds and hold no secrets.: the purpose is defeated by over-exposure and the result is that here we must shut our faces since we cannot shut our doors.

People moved through the place as if through the cross-section of a termitarium under glass. But they were very efficient.

The Frau Doktor i/c night-hours casualties was a big-boned lesbian with flat expressionless eyes and hands like a mechanical grab. She put in seven sutures and ordered anti-tetanus but that was as far as I would go with her: the capsules were livid-hued and presumably anti-bacterial and coagulation agents and I slipped them into my pocket when her head was turned and just drank the water which was refreshing. She obviously hadn’t heard about indiscriminate sensitization and I didn’t bother to tell her that I could produce enough antibodies to stop a mad horse given a fair chance.

They wanted me to fill in forms before discharging me because I still looked like an accident case and the Polizeidirektion would expect details so I asked if I could sit down while I filled them in and then edged out to the street when they were busy rubbing antennae with some remote inmate via the automatic switchboard.

It had cost me forty-five minutes but my hand would have been useless with the wound still open and the delay had to be written off as an investment. First light was an hour and a half away and even if they’d found Benedikt by now they probably wouldn’t notice the remains of the N.S.U. until morning.

I had told Ferris to leave his 17M in the Marienwerdestrasse because it was just round the block from the hospital and it saved me having to walk back to the Lister-Platz. I slipped the match from under the wiper and got in. The keys were in the ignition and the tank was full and it only took half a minute to find the envelope under the back carpet. It was a big one, quarto.

Karl Ernst Rodl, Hamburg, Herrenhauserstrasse 15 geboren Hamburg 1924, Automechaniker.

I hadn’t had to tell Ferris I needed German-national papers: he knew they’d be looking for an Englishman. The rubber stamping bore faint segments and the photograph was sufficiently unlike my face to be natural but the Automechaniker bit was off key because my nails weren’t normally split or ingrained. They slipped up sometimes in Credentials and Ferris would be on to that: a blast would already be working its way through his particular pipeline.

There was also a folder inside the envelope.

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