‘You’re the one with Heydrich’s breath in your ear. When you’ve got a suspect who’s suspicious it’s foolish to go and look for someone with a kind face and a good alibi. Come on, sir. Every bull does it now and then, even when they don’t have to. And if you ask me, you have to.’ He paused. ‘We have to.’
I grinned. ‘It’s quite like old times, working with you. You remind me of why I left the police the first time.’
‘It’s your funeral.’ Kahlo shrugged. ‘I just hope that I’m only the chief mourner.’
‘You needn’t worry. I’m not about to reach up and pull you in the grave beside me.’
‘It’s not just that.’
‘What then?’
‘I need to get on. In the job. I can’t stay being a Criminal Assistant for the rest of my bloody life. Unlike you, I’ve got a wife to support. The only way I’m going to get a promotion is if you deliver someone’s head for Kuttner’s murder, or if I join one of those SS police battalions in Russia. Come on, sir, you’ve been there. Everyone says it’s the holiday in hell.’
I nodded. ‘That it is.’
‘It sent Kuttner over the edge. We know that. I don’t want that happening to me. I want kids. I want to be able to look them in the eye when they go to bed at night.’
‘Yes, I can understand that.’
‘Right then. So far I’ve managed to avoid all that resettlement shit. But I don’t know how much longer I can do it. I can’t afford for you to fuck this case up because you’re a bit squeamish about sewing someone into the bag for this, sir.’
‘So, you admit you don’t actually think he did it, then?’
‘It doesn’t matter what I think. What matters is if it will stand up in front of General Heydrich.’
‘Well, I don’t think it will. I agree, Kluckholn’s keeping something from us. But if you remember, he said that Major Ploetz was party to the decision to burn those puppy mags. For all we know he knew about the pipe, too. You can’t put a man in front of a firing squad just because he tries to sidestep a few awkward questions.’
‘No? This is Germany, sir. Remember? It happens every day. Someone has got to go down for this and if you ask me it might as well be him. Besides, adjutant or not, he’s only a fucking captain and it’s going to be a lot easier pinning a charge on him than on any of the cauliflower. There’s not one of these bastards that doesn’t have a supply of vitamins that goes all the way to the top.’
He had a point. I didn’t like it but what he was saying made a lot of sense.
‘Am I interrupting you?’
An officer in Army uniform put his head around the door, and for a moment I failed to recognize him.
‘Only Captain Kluckholn said he was going to try to get me bumped up your list but – peculiar fellow – he wouldn’t answer me when I asked him just now if that was all right with you. Seemed rather upset about something. Had a face like thunder.’ He paused. ‘Well, is it? All right, I mean? I can come back in a few minutes if you’d prefer, only I was rather hoping to catch this afternoon’s train to Dresden. There’s quite a lot of work waiting on my desk. The Admiral – that’s Admiral Canaris – he keeps me pretty busy these days, I can tell you.’
‘I’m sorry. Major Thummel, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right.’
‘You’d better come in.’
‘Good of you,’ he warbled.
Paul Thummel advanced into the Morning Room. He moved with flat-footed nonchalance, like a golfer approaching a putt he expected to sink without any trouble, and sat down on the sofa recently vacated by Hermann Kluckholn.
‘All right here, am I?’ He smoothed his hands along the silk cushions like a schoolboy and then leaned back, comfortably. ‘I haven’t been in this room,’ he added, looking around. ‘Very cosy. Although maybe a bit too feminine for my taste. Not that I have any. At least that’s what my wife says. She gets to choose the wallpaper in our house, not me. I just pay for it.’
Thummel was about forty. He had dark hair which, like almost everyone wearing a German uniform, he wore very short at the sides so that what was on top of his skull resembled a little cap. His face was sharp and he had a very pronounced hook nose that looked as if it was trying its best to meet halfway his equally prominent chin. He was friendly and as smoothly confident as you might have expected of a man wearing a gold Party badge, a first-class Iron Cross, a decent cologne, and a silver wedding band.
‘Any suspects yet?’
‘It’s still a little early for that, Major.’
‘Hmm. Bad business all round. Leaves an unpleasant taste in the mouth to think that some fellow sitting next to you at dinner might have murdered some other fellow you knew in cold blood.’
‘Have you anyone in mind?’
‘Who me? No.’ Thummel crossed his legs, took hold of the shin of his boot and hugged it toward him like an oar in a two-man scull. ‘But fire away with your questions, Commissar, all the same.’
‘Are you feeling better today?’
‘Hmm?’
‘The hangover?’
‘Oh, that. Yes. Fine thanks. I’ll say one thing for Heydrich, he keeps a spectacular cellar. Himmler will be jealous when I tell him.’
