The cab driver was right. There were tons of flats and rooms for rent on a nightly basis in Berlin, but many of the listing sites, like Airbnb, required him to register and pay with a credit card in order to rent. That wouldn’t work. He found a site that required landlords to pay-to-list, and began bookmarking suitable accommodations. Luckily there were quite a few studio flats available in Wedding. Most were run-down, but they were cheap.
He dialed the number listed for a promising flat nearby. Without thinking about it, he spoke excitedly, with a New England accent far different from his neutral, Midwestern accent.
“Oh, hi, do you have the flat for rent on Amsterdamer Straße?”
“Yes, that is correct.” The woman’s voice held little emotion.
“Is it available for the next three days?”
“Yes.”
“Wonderful, wonderful. Listen, I’m in Berlin for business, and I could really use some help. I took the train in and when I woke up it was all gone—I mean everything: my luggage, laptop, wallet, passport, money, credit cards, you name it, gone. The rascals even slipped my wedding ring off!”
“Oh, that’s terrible,” the woman said with a little more sympathy.
“My wife wired me some money, and I’m looking for a place to rent. Can we meet? You’ll see I’ve got an honest face!” Desmond let out a goofy, nervous laugh that matched the fake exasperated accent he had affected.
“Ah, well, okay.” The woman said it would be three hours before she could get to the flat. Desmond agreed and ended the call. Assuming it worked out, he’d be off the street soon.
He opened a web browser and scanned the top German news sources. Bild carried no news about him, but a breaking news banner at the top of Spiegel Online read: Berlin police launch citywide manhunt for American man wanted for murder and assaulting two police officers.
Desmond clicked the link and scanned the article. The hunt was being run by the Landeskriminalamt, also known as the LKA—the police division charged with investigating major crimes and conducting special manhunts. The LKA would be coordinating a number of units. Reading the list gave Desmond pause about staying in the city.
The Spezialeinsatzkommando—the state police’s SWAT teams—were on standby for locations to raid. Mobiles Einsatzkommando—the special operative agents of the LKA—were being deployed to every borough to conduct a manhunt. Wasserschutzpolizei—the river police—were monitoring all the city’s waterways. Zentraler Verkehrsdienst—the traffic police—had engaged local and highway patrol units (Autobahnpolizei) to search for him. They even had Diensthundführer—K9 units—at the Concord, picking up his scent.
They were about to turn the city upside down looking for him.
Despite naming him, the article didn’t have any details about who he was or his background. This was both a relief and a disappointment. It would make it harder for them to find him—but it told him nothing about who he was.
Desmond opened the phone’s map application and found what he needed. Despite the citywide manhunt launching, Wedding looked like it would be a perfect place to hide. But Desmond still had the sense that he was missing something—and that the dry cleaner was somehow part of the puzzle.