Berlin Burning Read Free Page B

‘Can you tell me what happened?’
    â€˜It was that evil bastard Meist. He got what he deserved.’
    â€˜What happened?’
    â€˜They had another fight,’ Frau Schneider said.
    â€˜When was this?’
    â€˜They fought all the time.’
    â€˜I mean tonight, Frau Schneider. There was a fight tonight? Did you hear anything?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Did you hear any gunshots?’
    â€˜Gunshots?’ She sounded confused. So she hadn’t heard any. Presumably she didn’t know the cause of death.
    â€˜Did Maria have a gun with her?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜Did she have any kind of weapon?’
    â€˜No.’
    â€˜What time did she come up here? Tonight, I mean.’
    She gazed into her brandy. ‘I’m... not sure. I told the other officer all this.’
    Trautmann put some honey in his tone. ‘I know, Frau Schneider, but I just need to go over it with you once more. Please try to remember. It helps sometimes to tell the story more than once.’
    â€˜What time is it now?’
    â€˜A quarter past one.’
    She did some mental arithmetic. ‘Then it was about eleven thirty. Yes, that was it. Thinking about it, I looked at the clock in my room when I heard her knock.’
    Trautmann waited for her to go on.
    â€˜I came to the door and when I opened it she was there. Blood all over her. She said she’d had an accident and what should she do?’
    â€˜What kind of an accident?’
    The woman kept on as though she hadn’t even heard the question: ‘She often came to me for advice. Never took it though.’ She drank some brandy. ‘I told her a dozen times she should leave that boy, but she wouldn’t. God knows why.’
    She reached for the photo and Trautmann nudged it away with his pipe stem so she wouldn’t obscure any fingerprints. There’d been altogether too much of that.
    â€˜What kind of accident, Frau Schneider?’
    â€˜I don’t know.’
    â€˜She didn’t say?’
    â€˜Just that they’d fought...’ She tailed off.
    â€˜What advice did you give her?’
    The woman shifted on her stool and wouldn’t meet his eyes.
    â€˜Was it to go and ask her uncle for help?’ He didn’t like leading questions, but he wanted her reaction to that one. She looked up and met his eyes, then she looked away, past him, and then down into her cup.
    A lump of cold cream dropped from her chin and splashed into her brandy. Trautmann passed her his cup, glad of the excuse to be rid of it.
    â€˜Was it?’ he said.
    â€˜I don’t remember.’
    â€˜Do you remember where she went?’
    â€˜No.’ Too quick, that time. Another reason to visit Fleischer – the sooner the better.
    Trautmann hoped the lab boys from the Alex wouldn’t take much longer to arrive; he and Roth couldn’t leave the scene until they had.
    â€˜What makes you think Meist was beating her?’ Trautmann said.
    â€˜Think!’ Her voice grew louder. ‘Think, nothing. If you had seen the bruises, the scratches... He made her go out and... prostitute herself, you know. Sick. Just because he was too damn lazy to work. They argued about it. All the time.’
    â€˜Did you hear them arguing?’
    â€˜She would come up and see me afterwards. Sometimes.’
    â€˜And she told you what they argued about.’
    â€˜I’d have to be blind not to see it.’
    â€˜Is that why she killed him?’
    She got up from her stool. ‘Now look here, bull. If you think you can get me to turn stoolie on Maria you’ve got another thing coming.’
    Trautmann held the woman’s gaze. Then the apartment door opened to reveal Roth. The noise of chatter and heavy footfalls entered with him.
    â€˜Sir, lab boys are here.’
    Trautmann turned back to the woman. ‘Thank you, Frau Schneider. I’ll give Fleischer your best regards.’
    Her eyes widened with