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Chapter Six

Faust could still feel himself shaking.

As he grasped the gear stick, he wrapped his hand tight around it to try and curb the obvious shudders. He had almost stalled the car three times because his leg refused to sit still.

Faust had never fired his gun in public before, until today. Nothing he’d been taught at the academy could have prepared him for it. The adrenaline that screamed through his veins, the harsh thudding in his chest. The horrible silence afterwards. Once it was all over, his pistol had seemed heavy in his hands, and he’d hastily stuffed it back in his holster. He almost felt guilty about it all; the way people had stared at him, at what he held, what he’d done. Like a child caught playing with something it shouldn’t.

He glanced into the rear-view mirror. He had been doing it every few moments since they began driving. Part of him expected Karl to burst the door off its hinges, or lean forward and crush his skull, before grabbing the wheel. But he was still slumped in the back seat, his head leaning against the car window, his eye shut. Faust shivered. That damned eye patch gave him the chills.

Eventually, he felt Karl stir, and watched him in the mirror as he sat up straight, and stared at the city go by. He looked utterly dejected, as though he’d left all hope and purpose behind, sitting by the railroad tracks.

“Why’d you do it?” Faust asked, after a few more minutes of silence. Karl looked up, his face doing a good job conveying the crushing disappointment he must have been feeling on the inside.

“Do what,” he mumbled.

“Try to leave the city.”

Karl shrugged.

“If that’s your answer, the guys at the station are going to hang you out to dry.”

“Family,” Karl said, staring at Faust in the mirror. “I was going back home, to my family.”

Faust couldn’t meet his gaze, and looked away. In that moment, the young officer felt a great sorrow fill him.

The car quietly purred over the busy city streets. They neared a market, and outside people began to increase in number. The two men sat quietly, the stillness between them expanding and growing thicker. One of them not knowing what to say, the other not caring.

Faust watched as a crowd formed round a stall, each person waving their money in the air and shouting to the poor vendor. The snow was easing, and starting to melt; grey slush lined the roadside.

“You think I did it, don’t you,” Karl said suddenly. Faust looked at him in the mirror, and came to a realisation.

“Honestly? I don’t know.”

Karl nodded, and turned to stare out the window once more. “Your partner does,” he said.

“He’s ... undecided,” Faust said, struggling to find the right word. “You carry on like this though, you’ll make his mind up for him.”

Karl grunted.

There was a sudden jerk as the officer pushed down hard on the brakes, narrowly missing an old woman who had began marching across the road without looking where she was going. Faust watched her as she passed, her big hips swaying and her back bent. She waddled over to the crowd around the stall, and started poking people at the back with her stick.

"Was Munich always this busy?" Karl said. "I opened that newspaper on the train and..." He trailed off, looking wistfully out the window. "It's a mighty different world I awoke to."

Faust nodded. "Time's been hard here, caused a lot of folk nothing but hardship.”

"The war?"

"In part. After it was over we had to pay our dues. Got taken apart piece by piece by those we'd done the same to.”

Karl motioned out the window. "Seems to me these people don't know any great hardship. I've never seen the streets so busy, folk spending like there's no tomorrow."

"In some ways there isn’t," Faust said. "What buys you a three course meal at nine in the morning won't get you a loaf of bread come five o'clock. People spend their paycheque as fast as they can, before it's not worth the paper it's printed on."

The car finally escaped the clutches of the busy marketplace, and Faust expertly guided her down a series of increasingly narrow streets.

"You said in part," Karl said, "what did you mean?"

Faust cleared his throat. He felt his neck warm, and he wished he hadn't brought it up. Keifer had warned him about this. Letting a suspect worm his way into your head, twisting your perception of him and testing your loyalties. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and hoped Karl hadn't noticed.

"We're almost at the station," he said abruptly. If there was any awkwardness Karl didn't let it show and merely grunted and went back to staring out the window.

After a few more minutes had passed he spoke again. "What's going to happen once we get there?"

Faust had been wondering that himself. The investigation had been plagued with problems from the start, and it was just over a year now since the murders. Would his team jump at the chance to finally make an arrest? How important was due process compared with public image? Part of him imagined handing over Karl to be like dropping a chunk of meat into a pool of baying sharks. He'd only been at the station for two months. Was he really in any position to give an answer with any authority?

"I don't know," he admitted, pulling into the station car park. "I honestly don't know."

His answer hung in the air, between the two men. Faust become conscious that he was a little scared, and chided himself. Keifer would have a field day if he could see inside him right now. He looked at Karl in the rear-view mirror, but if the man was frightened his face kept it hidden.

"You're new, aren't you." It was a statement, rather than a question. Karl turned in his seat. "You have no idea what's going to happen when you take me in there."

Faust opened his mouth but Karl interrupted, his deep, growling voice low and rumbling in the quiet interior.
"I knew it the first time we met. Back at the hospital you were shaking like a leaf. I bet it was the first time you ever saw it. I mean, really got up close and saw it. The rawness of it all. It terrified you."

Faust couldn't meet his gaze. He felt his heart sink deeper and deeper into his chest, and a blackness settled inside him.

"On the train you pointed that gun at me and your hands were trembling. I bet that was the first time you ever even fired that thing. You want to know what’s going to happen in there?" Karl leaned forward. "I'm going to get torn to shreds. And you're just going to hand me over to them. You call yourself a police officer but you're just as eager to close this case as they are. What's the truth worth when you can have a pat on the back and nice picture in the evening paper."

Faust opened his door and stood up. He marched around to the back and opened the passenger door. Karl got out and raised himself to his full height. His eye loomed down on Faust, and inside it the young officer saw something he had not expected.

“Come on,” Faust murmured, “the chief will want to speak to you.”

Karl was lead inside the old, imposing building. His hands were handcuffed in front of him, and the cold metal was tight on his thick wrists. As Faust held the door open for him, and he stepped into police headquarters, he felt himself sag slightly. His spirit was shattered; it lay in pieces by the railroad track, a chunk sat a few paces outside in the bright, bitter sunlight, but Karl knew most of it remained waiting for him at home, at Hinterkaifeck. He wondered if he would ever see it again.

Inside, there awaited a large, vast hall, packed with rows of desks. Ringing phones blared every few seconds, and with the chatter of officers the sound was almost deafening. A balcony stretched round the entire room, and up there Karl could see doors leading to what he presumed was senior staff offices.

He followed Faust up to the front desk. The man there was overweight and balding, and Karl disliked him immediately. The officer swivelled in his chair as they approached and pushed aside a cup of something.

“Well, what’s this, rookie?” he exclaimed in mock surprise. “Your first arrest?”

Faust was doing a good job at hiding his nerves. “This is Karl Gabriel. He’s not under arrest, just here to answer some questions.”

The fat clerk snorted, and pointed to Karl’s handcuffs. “You restrain everyone you question?”

“Only those that need a little persuasion.”

“Sounds to me like he was resisting arrest.”

Faust stepped up to the counter. “He’s not under arrest. Just let the chief know we’re here.”

The officer eyed Faust suspiciously, but eventually nodded, and a smile crept over his face.

“Sure thing, rookie. Take him into the hall. I’ll phone upstairs.”

Karl felt a sickening feeling in his stomach. 

Faust turned round, looking pleased with himself. Karl understood that winning little battles like that were important when you started somewhere new. You had to make it clear you weren’t going to be walked all over. But something told him that the new officer hadn’t quite been as successful as he thought he had. Faust bent down and undid his handcuffs; they popped off with a click, and his wrists breathed in relief, the pain ebbing away quickly.

“Let’s go,” the officer said.

Leading the way, Faust headed past the desk and into the large, open room. They had barely taken two steps inside when the chatter seemed to die down, and Karl could have sworn even the phones stopped ringing. Faust must have noticed it too, for he stopped walking and looked around.

A cry rang up from a corner of the hall.

“What did I tell you, boys!”

Karl’s head snapped round. He watched in dismay as Jurgen Keifer strode across the floor, weaving his way between desks with a triumphant look on his face.

“The new-start done good!” Keifer continued. He went up to Faust and put his arm round his shoulder, pulling him in tight. “I always knew you had it in you.”

Faust untangled himself and asked puzzledly, “Had what?”

Keifer suddenly looked serious. “To do what was necessary, of course.” He took a step back and mimicked a cowboy, yanking his gun from his holster. “Blam!” he yelled, and burst into a harsh laugh. Everyone around joined in, and cries of encouragement rang out.

Keifer wiped his mouth and smacked Faust on the shoulder, still laughing. “Honestly though, you did good kid. I knew you wouldn’t make the same mistake twice.”

Faust tried to keep it from showing, but Karl could tell that inside the young officer was mortified. Whether from the public display or his partner’s thinly veiled reference, it wasn’t clear. Kiefer didn’t seem to have picked up on it, however, and after a few more moments of back slapping he turned his attention to Karl.

“Gather round everyone,” he said, his voice dropping and a snarl appearing on his face, “looks like we caught ourselves a butcher.”

Karl felt his temper warm up. He felt his body tense, and the urge to ram his fist in the leering officer’s face was almost too much to ignore. He opened his mouth to speak, but stopped himself. Picking a fight here might be immensely satisfying in the short term, but would undoubtedly be a very bad move.

Keifer turned to the crowd of officers that had formed around them.

“But don’t worry!” he called. “Karl Gabriel can’t remember doing it! Can’t remember the night he went back to his house in the dark.” Keifer took a step closer. “Can’t remember the night he took a pickaxe and caved in the heads of his family.” He prodded his finger into Karl chest, emphasising each word. “One. By. One.”

Karl felt his hands ball up into fists. The people watching began baying.

Keifer smiled thinly. “Who would want to? Not that I blame you, of course. If my wife was fucking my neighbour? Why I just don’t know what I’d do.”

A blinding red light came down over Karl’s vision, and his arms moved to grab hold of Kiefer.

“That’s enough!” someone roared.

Everyone stopped moving, Karl included, and looked up at the voice. A man was standing on the balcony. He was leaning over the railing, his eyes roaming over the crowd. “All of you, back off. Now!”

People started muttering and walking away. Keifer glared at Karl, who returned it with gusto. “You got lucky this time,” the officer said.

“Shame your balls only show when you’ve got back-up,” Karl growled.

Keifer’s eyes widened, and for a moment Karl thought he might swing for him. But then his face relaxed and he let out a nasty laugh. “I have every confidence we’ll find out one way or the other.”

He turned and walked away. Karl glanced down at Faust, and shot him a look.

The man from the balcony arrived at their side.

“Mr Gabriel? I’m Georg Schafer, Chief Inspector and lead detective on this case. If you wouldn’t mind following me, we’ve got some questions we’d like answers to.”