patches bloomed on her pale skin all the way from forehead to shoulders. She'd always blushed in patches like that. When we'd made love it had been the same. A thousand filthy memories of us filled my mind and this time I couldn't hold them back. This time I didn't really want to.
I seized her wrist as she pulled back for another slap. My dick was getting hard: this was more like the girl I knew.
Vogel stepped between us, a warning for me in his eyes.
I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender. 'All right, all right, I've had enough beatings for one night. Detective.' I nodded at him, then at Gisela. 'Frau Ritter. Thanks for the chat.'
Vogel took a step towards me. I left, the sting of Gisela's slap still warm on my cheek and my stomach muscles aching worse than ever as I headed home.
4
My own snores shook me awake, air dry-whistling through my nose. Then my bed rocked, and I started thinking maybe something else had awoken me, like someone trying to open my door without realising I'd wedged the bed up against it.
A dark pot-bellied man loomed against the far wall, picked out by the sunlight coming through the open curtains. I blinked a couple of times and the man resolved himself into the shadow of my corner stove. I'd got home close on three am to find the lock broken and my room ransacked by Ritter's mob. Funny though how the mess hadn't dragged me down as much as the realisation that my room was little bigger than the holding cell at Mühlenstrasse.
Plus the fact that somehow, in some way I couldn't understand, I'd felt more at home in that cell than I did in my actual home.
The door crashed against the bed. I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes.
'Hold on, for Christ's sake,' I said.
'Klein, wake up.' I recognised Vogel's honeyed tones.
'I'm awake, damn it!'
The door across the landing creaked open. I checked my watch. Just gone eight am. Good Christ, was I never going to get enough sleep?
'What's all this?' That was the voice of my neighbour – and landlady – Effi Schneider. She didn't sound happy.
Vogel stopped pushing at my door and said, 'I'm sorry madam, but we need to take Detective Klein to headquarters.'
'On a Sunday?' Effie said.
I sat as still as I could and held my breath. What did Vogel and Ritter want with me now? I wanted to tell the inspector to go to hell, to submit his request in writing to my precinct house and have to wait days for the response. On the other hand, maybe he wanted me to help find the Albermann kid after all. Or, worse, maybe they'd found her. No, scratch that last one: if they'd found her they wouldn't need me. Not unless Ritter was looking for a scapegoat.
'And I suppose you're the cretins who smashed the place up yesterday?' Effi went on. 'Honestly, you think this is a good use of tax payers' money while there's four million unemployed and people queuing round the block for the soup kitchens?'
'Madam, I really couldn't say. I've been sent down here from Berlin, and I didn't have much say in the matter, I can tell you.'
'Berlin, eh?' Effi made a sound somewhere at the back of her throat. 'Explains a lot.'
I wrapped a cotton sheet around my midriff and I got up. I scraped the bed back and opened the door. 'You found her?'
Vogel put a finger to his lips. There was something different about him today, but I couldn't work out what it was. There was another plainclothesman beside him, a squat man with thin hair draped across a dry scalp. This guy had the nerve to leer at me, revealing missing teeth. Beyond these two, Effi stood at the threshold of her rooms. Hot curlers steamed in glossy dark hair which came down over her ears. A black velvet jacket strained to contain her ample stomach and she was wearing a thin silver chain around her neck. Three dark-haired young girls peered out from behind her skirts.
'So what, it turns out I can help after all?'
'I thought they'd caught the Ripper?' Effi said.
'Well, we have...' Vogel said.
'Heard on the wireless
I seized her wrist as she pulled back for another slap. My dick was getting hard: this was more like the girl I knew.
Vogel stepped between us, a warning for me in his eyes.
I held up my hands in a gesture of surrender. 'All right, all right, I've had enough beatings for one night. Detective.' I nodded at him, then at Gisela. 'Frau Ritter. Thanks for the chat.'
Vogel took a step towards me. I left, the sting of Gisela's slap still warm on my cheek and my stomach muscles aching worse than ever as I headed home.
4
My own snores shook me awake, air dry-whistling through my nose. Then my bed rocked, and I started thinking maybe something else had awoken me, like someone trying to open my door without realising I'd wedged the bed up against it.
A dark pot-bellied man loomed against the far wall, picked out by the sunlight coming through the open curtains. I blinked a couple of times and the man resolved himself into the shadow of my corner stove. I'd got home close on three am to find the lock broken and my room ransacked by Ritter's mob. Funny though how the mess hadn't dragged me down as much as the realisation that my room was little bigger than the holding cell at Mühlenstrasse.
Plus the fact that somehow, in some way I couldn't understand, I'd felt more at home in that cell than I did in my actual home.
The door crashed against the bed. I sat up, rubbing sleep from my eyes.
'Hold on, for Christ's sake,' I said.
'Klein, wake up.' I recognised Vogel's honeyed tones.
'I'm awake, damn it!'
The door across the landing creaked open. I checked my watch. Just gone eight am. Good Christ, was I never going to get enough sleep?
'What's all this?' That was the voice of my neighbour – and landlady – Effi Schneider. She didn't sound happy.
Vogel stopped pushing at my door and said, 'I'm sorry madam, but we need to take Detective Klein to headquarters.'
'On a Sunday?' Effie said.
I sat as still as I could and held my breath. What did Vogel and Ritter want with me now? I wanted to tell the inspector to go to hell, to submit his request in writing to my precinct house and have to wait days for the response. On the other hand, maybe he wanted me to help find the Albermann kid after all. Or, worse, maybe they'd found her. No, scratch that last one: if they'd found her they wouldn't need me. Not unless Ritter was looking for a scapegoat.
'And I suppose you're the cretins who smashed the place up yesterday?' Effi went on. 'Honestly, you think this is a good use of tax payers' money while there's four million unemployed and people queuing round the block for the soup kitchens?'
'Madam, I really couldn't say. I've been sent down here from Berlin, and I didn't have much say in the matter, I can tell you.'
'Berlin, eh?' Effi made a sound somewhere at the back of her throat. 'Explains a lot.'
I wrapped a cotton sheet around my midriff and I got up. I scraped the bed back and opened the door. 'You found her?'
Vogel put a finger to his lips. There was something different about him today, but I couldn't work out what it was. There was another plainclothesman beside him, a squat man with thin hair draped across a dry scalp. This guy had the nerve to leer at me, revealing missing teeth. Beyond these two, Effi stood at the threshold of her rooms. Hot curlers steamed in glossy dark hair which came down over her ears. A black velvet jacket strained to contain her ample stomach and she was wearing a thin silver chain around her neck. Three dark-haired young girls peered out from behind her skirts.
'So what, it turns out I can help after all?'
'I thought they'd caught the Ripper?' Effi said.
'Well, we have...' Vogel said.
'Heard on the wireless
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