The Lady from Zagreb Read Online Free Page A

Gormann, the strangler. Even outside Germany that’s a famous case. Forty minutes, if you can manage it.”
    “That’s not scratching, Arthur. That’s scraping. Gormann was almost fifteen years ago. Look, there must be someone else in your new police building on Werderscher Markt.”
    “Of course there is. Commissioner Lüdtke is already drafted in. And before you suggest them, so are Kurt Daluege and Bernhard Wehner. But we’re still a couple of speakers short for a conference that lasts for two whole days.”
    “What about Otto Steinäusl? He used to be the IKPK president, didn’t he?”
    “Died of TB, in Vienna, year before last.”
    “That other fellow in Prague. Heinz Pannwitz.”
    “He’s a thug, Bernie. I doubt he could speak for five minutes before he used a swearword or started beating the lectern with a cosh.”
    “Schellenberg.”
    “Too secretive. And much too aloof.”
    “All right, what about that fellow who caught Ogorzow—the S-Bahn murderer? That was only last year. Heuser, Georg. That’s the fellow you should get.”
    “Heuser is the head of Gestapo, in Minsk,” said Nebe. “Besides, since Heuser caught Ogorzow, Lüdtke is terribly jealous of him. That’s why he’s going to stay in Minsk for the time being. No, you’re it, I’m afraid.”
    “Stopgap Lüdtke’s not exactly fond of me, either. You are aware of that.”
    “He’ll damn well do what I tell him. Besides, there’s no one who’s jealous of you, Bernie. Least of all Lüdtke. You’re no threat to anyone. Not anymore. Your career is going nowhere. You could have been a general now, like me, if you’d played your cards right.”
    I shrugged. “Believe me, I’m a disappointment to myself most of all. But I’m not a speaker, Arthur. Sure, I’ve handled a few press conferences in my time, however, they were nothing like what you’re asking. I’ll be terrible. My idea of public speaking is to shout for a beer from the back of the bar.”
    Nebe grinned and tried to puff his Havana back into life; it took a bit of doing but he finally managed to get the cigar going. I could tell he was thinking of me while he went about it.
    “I’m counting on you being crap,” he said. “In fact, I expect every one of our speakers will be bloody awful. I’m hoping the whole IKPK conference is so fucking boring that we’ll never have to do another one again. It’s ridiculous talking about international crime while the Nazis are busy committing the international crime of the century.”
    “First time I’ve ever heard you call it that, Arthur.”
    “I said it to you, so it doesn’t count.”
    “Suppose I say something out of turn? Something to embarrass you. I mean, just think who’ll be there. The last time I met Himmler, he kicked me on the shin.”
    “I remember that.” Nebe grinned. “It was priceless.” He shook his head. “No, you needn’t worry about putting your foot in the German butter. When you’ve written your speech you’ll have to submit the whole text to the Ministry for Propaganda and National Enlightenment. They’ll put it into proper, politically correct German. State Secretary Gutterer has agreed to cast his eye over everyone’s speeches. He’s SS anyway so there shouldn’t be a problem between our departments. It’s in his interest if everyone sounds even duller than him.”
    “I feel reassured already. Jesus, what a farce. Is Chaplin speaking, too?”
    Nebe shook his head. “You know, one day I think someone really will shoot you. And that will be goodbye, Bernie Gunther.”
    “Nothing says goodbye quite like a bullet from a nine-millimeter Walther.”
    In the distance, at the shimmering edge of the lake, I could just about make out the schoolteacher, Kirsten. She and her shapely friends were now disembarking at the jetty in front of the Swedish Pavilion. I collected the oars and started to row again, only this time I was putting my back into it. Nebe hadn’t asked and I didn’t tell him,