Chapters (64)
‘Of course.’ I levelled his gaze with my own. ‘We’ll be careful. Thank you for your concern, Walter, but it’s preposterous. Who would Charlotte go with?’
‘Paul, listen to me! You’re not listening. Jenö has a ticket for her to leave with him. It leaves in two weeks.’
From the pinched seriousness of his mouth, it occurred to me that this was not a game. ‘No.’
‘Pauli—’
‘I will not persuade Charlotte to leave with Jenö Fiedler.’
‘You must. It’s not safe here. You must persuade her to go with him.’
‘I’ll ask her to go with me.’
‘You just said you don’t have any money.’
‘Not yet—’
‘He’s leaving in two weeks. Charlotte has to be on that flight.’
‘Why do you want to help her? All you have done for the past decade is try and destroy her!’
He looked at me. ‘You mistake me,’ he said coolly. ‘I couldn’t care less what happens to Charlotte Feldekova. My fear is Jenö will stay if she doesn’t go. I have to get him out at least.’
47
Berlin
In Dresden Palace there is a porcelain menagerie. Tiny birds perch on the walls, and on the floor are hundreds of animals: peacocks; rhinoceroses; monkeys. A hen hangs from a fox’s jaws; a vulture grips the heart of a cockatoo. The ruler at the time, Augustus the Strong, had suffered from what was known as a maladie de porcelaine. In the corridor leading from the porcelain room there are hundreds of blue-inked vases. Augustus’s porcelain-sickness was so perverse that he gave the King of Prussia a whole battalion in exchange for these vases. The soldiers would have marched from Dresden to Berlin knowing they’d been swapped for some pots. A battalion for a set of vases.
My heart for Charlotte’s life.
I left Charlottenburg and went directly to Steglitz. I don’t remember the journey but I knew where I was going. The train took me south and when we emerged from the tunnels rain streaked the carriage windows. The buildings receded as I marched toward the Bauhaus, feeling the weight of my gloved hands swing. I walked automatically, and saw hardly a thing.
Walter’s words were crazy in my mind; his request absurd. In all his morbid gentleness I had expected him to confirm my suspicions. Yes, he should have said: Follow her. Go to the Bauhaus. See what she’s up to. But there had been no charitable condolences, no exhortations that all would be well, nor were there any poisoned barbs that Charlotte had been sent to devil me.
Instead, he had asked me to be Jenö’s advocate.
It was outrageous. Unfair.