The March Fallen by volker Kutscher

Author:volker Kutscher
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Sandstone Press Ltd
Published: 2020-05-13T16:00:00+00:00

53

The tea dance began at five on the dot in Hotel Eden, and Charly was all dressed up. The risk of running into a colleague who might squeal to Wieking in a place like this was low; the cost, on the other hand, would be high. She had told Gereon as much on the telephone, but he had said it wasn’t important so long as she came away with a result.

Somehow she’d let herself be talked into going it alone! He was right, though, he’d never manage to prise her away from G Division officially, and there was no doubt that undercover operations had their appeal. This particular operation was so undercover that not even police knew about it. Still, what could they do? It was only dancing . . . for all that she was supposed to be ill.

She had left Kirie with the porter and walked fifteen minutes to the hotel, saving the taxi fare. The afternoon would be pricey enough. The Eden advertised itself as ‘the most modern luxury hotel in West Berlin’, and it was certainly among the most expensive.

She went straight from the cloakroom to the ballroom, taking her place at one of the tables near the dancefloor. She ordered a glass of house champagne, lit a cigarette and looked around. The band was already playing, and the room was filling even though it was only a few minutes after five. It was mostly women at the tables, the majority of whom wore expectant looks, until the first gallants arrived and led them to the floor. It seemed to Charly as if the dancers chose the most ardent looking women. Certainly they weren’t interested in the smokers. She stubbed out her Juno and tried to look keen. Before long a pomaded, southern-looking type with a pencil moustache arrived and essayed a perfect bow. A peacock, the kind she’d usually have sent packing.

‘May I have this dance?’

She smiled, reached for the man’s outstretched hand and stood up. The band played Latin American. She would have preferred Jazz, but that was asking too much at five in the afternoon.

She didn’t know the dance, but it wasn’t an issue. Her partner held her firmly and, thanks to his steady hand, her legs did what they were supposed to. No comparison with Gereon, whose range just about extended to the slow numbers.

‘The lady dances well.’

‘Entirely thanks to you.’

His response was a self-satisfied smile. Conversation wasn’t his strong point. Charly chose to lead. ‘What’s your name?’ she asked.

Her pomaded gigolo gave her a conspiratorial glance. ‘Just ask for Bertrand,’ he whispered.

‘From France?’

‘Brussels.’

‘How about Achim von Roddeck? Will I find him here too?’

Just ask for Bertrand looked confused at first, then insulted. ‘No, not anymore.’

‘They say he’s an author these days.’

His face told her he didn’t wish to discuss a former colleague, but nor did he wish to rebuff her. Or perhaps he wasn’t allowed. He smiled sourly. ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t know a lot about Herr von Roddeck.’

He wheeled her across the dancefloor.

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