Читаем A good German полностью

“No, somewhere here,” Jake said, making a circle around the lakes. “It has to be. You don’t drive a body across town. You’d have to be near enough to think of it. Where to get rid of it, fast.”

“Unless you planned it.”

“Then you’d be on the water,” Jake said, pointing to the shoreline. “To make it easy. I don’t think it was planned. They never even took the time to go through his pockets, get his tags. They just wanted to get rid of him. In a hurry. Somewhere nearby-where nobody would find him.“ He pointed to the center of the blue patch.

Gunther nodded. “An answer for everything,” he said, then turned to Lena. “An expert on crime, our Herr Geismar,” he said pleasantly. “The coffee’s all right?”

“Yes, an expert,” Lena said.

“I have been looking forward to this meeting,” he said, sitting down. “You don’t mind if I ask you a question?”

“Somewhere here,” Jake was saying at the map, his hand on the lake.

“Yes, but where?” Gunther said over his shoulder. “It’s miles around those lakes.”

“Not if you eliminate.” He blocked off the western shore with his hand. “Not Kladow, the Russian zone.” He moved his hand and covered the bottom. “Not Potsdam. Somewhere along here.” He traced his finger from Spandau down to Wannsee, the long swatch of the Grunewald. “Where would he go?”

“A man who spoke only English? I would say to the Americans. In my experience, they prefer it.”

Zehlendorf. Jake moved across the woods, the map alive in his hand. Kronprinzenallee, headquarters. The press camp. Gelferstrasse. The Kommandatura, across the street from the KWI, an Emil connection. But the KWI was closed, dark for months. The Grunewald itself?

“What question?” Lena said.

“Forgive me, I was distracted. Just a small point. I was curious about the time your husband came for you. That last week. You know, I was in Berlin then-the Volkssturm, even the police became soldiers at the end. A terrible time.” Yes.

“Such confusion. Looting, even,” he said, shaking his head, as if even now the behavior disturbed him. “How, I wondered, did you know he was here? You didn’t see him?”

“The telephone. It was still working, even through that.”

“I remember. No water, but still the telephone. So he called?”

“From his father’s. He wanted to come for me, but the streets-”

“Yes, dangerous. The Russians were there?”

“Not yet. But near. Between us, I think, but what’s the difference? It was impossible. The Germans were just as bad, shooting everybody. I was afraid to leave the hospital. I thought, at least I’ll be safe here. Not even the Russians-”

“A terrible thing for him. So close. And after coming so far. The Zoo tower was still secure, I think, but perhaps he didn’t know that. To get through that way.”

Lena looked up. “You mustn’t blame him. He’s not a coward.”

“My dear lady, I don’t blame anyone. Not that week.”

“I don’t mean that. I told him not to come.”

“Ah.”

“I was the coward.”

“Frau Brandt-”

“No, it’s true.” She lowered her head and took a sip of coffee. “I was afraid we’d both be killed if he waited. I didn’t want another death. It was crazy to come then-there wasn’t time. I told him to leave with his father before it was too late. I didn’t want to go. I didn’t care. It was foolish, but that’s how it was. Why do you want to know this?”

“But his father didn’t leave either,” Gunther said, not answering. “Only the files. Did he mention them?”

“No. What files?”

“A pity. I’m curious about those files. It’s how he got the car, I think. You remember there were no cars then. No gas either.”

“His father said he came with SS.”

“But even they had no cars for personal matters. Not then. So it must have been for the files. What files, do you think?”

“I don’t know. You’ll have to ask him.”

“Or the Americans.” He turned around to Jake. “What do the Americans say? Did you find out?”

“Admin files, Shaeffer said. Nothing special. No technical secrets, if that’s what you mean.”

“Maybe he doesn’t know how to read them. Not like our Herr Teitel. A genius with files, that one. In his hands, a weapon.” He raised his hand, uncannily like Bernie in the courtroom, the invisible file a kind of gun. “He knows.”

“Well, if he does, he isn’t saying, and he’s been sitting under them for weeks now. It’s his home away from home.”

“What is?”

Jake stared at him, then turned to the map. “The Document Center,” he said quietly, putting his finger down on Wasserkafersteig, a short line, just a byway off the Grunewald. “The Document Center,” he said again, moving his finger left. A straight line across the Grunewald, under the Avus, where they’d stopped in the rain, a straight line to the lake.

“You’ve thought of something?”