Babylon Berlin Read Online Free PDF Page A

they fell into the next trap. The Ford A got stuck behind a yellow Berlin city bus, which was blocking the already narrow temporary access route. Berlin smokes Juno cigarettes an advertisement revealed. Wolter cursed. A boy in his Sunday best stood on the steps leading to the upper deck, cocking a snook at them.
    The vast brick expanse of police headquarters was already in view. The building wasn’t called Red Castle for nothing; the great corner tower presided over Alexanderplatz like a medieval keep. It had taken some time for Rath to get used to the fact that even the officers referred to headquarters as The Castle .
    ‘Let me out here, I’ll get us something to eat,’ he said. ‘I’ll be quicker on foot. See you back at the Castle.’
    After scarcely ten minutes he entered the station from Dircksenstrasse. This was where CID had their offices, on the same side as the city railway. His day-to-day work was interrupted by the peal and rumble of trains wheeling past his window. Rath greeted the cop at the entrance by raising the Aschinger paper bags in his right hand. Three bratwurst with mustard. In the left hand a tub of potato salad. The food from Aschinger’s was better than the canteen. First they would take time to eat, and after that they would concentrate on the interviews.
    It would be a while before they summoned the first of the gang from the cells. Let them stew a little longer. Rath’s stomach rumbled as he climbed the steps. Apart from two cups of coffee – a good one at home and a bad one in the 220th precinct – he hadn’t eaten anything today.
    As he emerged from the stairwell into the grey corridor he paused, lost in thought, outside a glass double door with HOMICIDE written in white capital letters. He thought of Bruno’s words in the car – Gennat’s boys – hand-picked. In the long passageway behind the glass door, another door opened. Homicide was busy on Sundays too. A young woman was standing in the doorway. She shouted something back into the office before turning and moving down the passageway. Rath peered through the glass into a narrow face with a resolutely curved mouth, and dark eyes under black hair cut fashionably short. She wore a dark red suit and carried a file under her arm. Her shoes clicked across the stone floor of the long passageway at a brisk clip and, when she greeted a passing colleague, her smile conjured up a dimple on her left cheek.
    ‘Don’t get lost now,’ a voice startled Rath from his daydream. He turned as if he’d been caught out. ‘You still work for us,’ said Wolter.
    The glass door opened and the woman bestowed her smile on the officers from E Division.
    ‘Good afternoon,’ she said. Her voice was higher than he’d expected.
    Wolter tipped his hat and Rath raised the paper bags. The woman looked at him in amusement almost, and he felt stupid and awkward. He lowered the paper bags and her smile returned. Rath wasn’t sure if she was smiling or laughing as she continued on her way, her dark red suit becoming smaller and smaller, before disappearing behind the next glass door. Uncle patted him on the shoulder.
    ‘Let’s get something to eat before the real work begins. You look completely out of it. When was the last time you had a woman?’
    ‘Ask me something easier.’
    ‘No wonder you’re not enjoying Vice,’ Wolter said, ‘if you’re living like a monk. I’ll make sure I introduce you to a few girls.’
    ‘Forget it.’ After Doris, Rath had had enough of women. She had dropped him as soon as the smear campaign had begun. Not even half a year had passed…
    ‘Oh come on!’ Wolter wouldn’t let go. ‘I know some great girls! In our line of work, you get around. Like I said: I’m not about to trade places.’
    ‘Things don’t look too bad in Homicide either.’ He pointed to the glass door, the Aschinger bags still in his hand. ‘Can you tell me who that was just now?’
    ‘Charlotte Ritter, a stenographer in