Self's punishment - By Bernhard Schlink & Walter Popp Page 0,57

I could gather, they wanted to put him under pressure after you had turned him in. They wanted to have the cooperation they’re now paying me for, but they wanted it for nothing, in exchange for keeping quiet about his hacking into the system. When he died they were somewhat disgruntled because then they had to pay. Me.’

He could have gone on talking for ever, probably wanted to justify himself, too. I’d heard enough.

‘Thank you, that’s plenty for now, Herr Grimm. In your place I’d keep our discussion confidential. If the RCW get wind of the fact that I know, you’ll be useless to them. Should anything more about Mischkey’s death come to mind, call me.’ I gave him my card.

‘Yes, but – don’t you care about what’s going on with the emissions control. Or are you going to go to the police anyway?’

I thought about the stink that so often caused me to shut the window. And about what was there, even though we couldn’t smell it. Nonetheless it left me indifferent for the time being. I packed away Mischkey’s printouts that were lying on Grimm’s desk. When I turned to leave, Grimm stretched out his hand towards me. I didn’t take it.

19

Energy and Stamina

In the afternoon I should have had my appointment with the ballet director. But I didn’t feel like it and cancelled. At home I went to bed and didn’t wake up until five. I almost never have a siesta. Because of my low blood pressure I find it difficult afterwards to get going again. I took a hot shower and made a strong coffee.

When I called Philipp at the station the nurse said, ‘The doctor is already off to his new boat.’ I drove through Neckarstadt to Luzenberg and parked in Gerwigstrasse. In the harbour I passed a lot of boats before finding Philipp’s. I recognized it by the name. It was called Faun 69 .

I know next to nothing about sailing. Philipp explained to me that he could sail to London in this boat or to Rome via France, just not venturing too far from the coast. There was water enough for ten showers, space enough in the fridge for forty bottles, and room enough in the bed for one Philipp and two women. After he’d shown me around he switched the stereo on, put on Hans Albers, and uncorked a bottle of Bordeaux.

‘Do I get a test-drive, too?’

‘Slowly does it, Gerd. Let’s empty this little bottle first, and then we’ll raise the anchor. I have radar and can set sail any time day or night.’

One bottle turned into two. First of all Philipp told me about his women. ‘And what about you, Gerd, how’s your love life?’

‘Ah, what can I say?’

‘Nothing on the go with smart traffic wardens or attractive secretaries, or whatever else you are involved in?’

‘On a case I did get to know a woman recently who’d appeal to me, but it’s difficult because her boyfriend isn’t alive any more.’

‘I beg your pardon, but where’s the difficulty in that?’

‘Oh, well, I can’t flirt with a grieving widow, can I? Especially as I’m supposed to be finding out who murdered the boyfriend.’

‘Why can’t you? Is it your public prosecutor’s code of honour, or are you simply afraid she’ll turn you down?’ He was laughing at me.

‘No, no, you couldn’t put it like that. And then there’s somebody else – Brigitte. I like her too. I don’t know what to do with two women.’

Philipp burst out laughing, loudly. ‘You’re a real philanderer. And what’s stopping you from getting closer to Brigitte?’

‘I am already . . . with her, I’ve even . . .’

‘And now she’s expecting a child by you?’ Philipp could hardly contain his mirth. Then he noticed that I wasn’t at all inclined to laugh, and enquired seriously about my situation. I told him.

‘That’s no reason to look so sad. You just need to be aware of what you want. If you’re looking for someone to marry, then stay with Brigitte. They’re not bad, these women around forty. They’ve seen everything, experienced everything, they’re as sensual as a succubus if you know how to arouse them. And a masseuse, what’s more, and you with your rheumatism. The other one sounds like stress. Is that what you want? Amour fou? A heaven of passion, then a hell of despair?’

‘But I don’t know what I want. Probably I want both, the security and the thrill. At any rate sometimes I want one, sometimes