was aiming at a Commie.”
“So. It was an accident. I don’t see how that proves the Nazis organize most of the violence.”
“No? Well, you want to come round our way and take a look out of my apartment window on Dragonerstrasse. The Central Offices of the German Communist Party are just around the corner, on Bulowplatz. So that’s where the Nazis choose to exercise their democratic right to hold a parade. Does that seem reasonable? Does that sound law-abiding?”
“Proves my point, doesn’t it? You living in a Red area like that.”
“All it proves is that the Nazis are always spoiling for a fight.”
I bent down and flicked my flashlight up and down the dead girl’s body. Her upper half looked more or less normal. She was about thirteen or fourteen, blond, with pale blue eyes and a small galaxy of freckles around her pixie nose. It was a tomboyish sort of face, and you could easily have mistaken her for a boy. The matter of her sex was only confirmed by her small, adolescent breasts, the rest of her sexual organs having been removed along with her lower intestines, her womb, and whatever else gets packed in down there when a girl gets born. But it wasn’t her evisceration that caught my eye. In truth, both Heinrich and I had seen this kind of thing many times in the trenches. There was also the caliper on her left leg. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“No walking stick,” I said, tapping it with my pencil. “You’d think she’d have had one.”
“Maybe she didn’t need one. It’s not every cripple that needs a stick.”
“You’re right. Goebbels manages very well without one, doesn’t he? For a cripple. Then again there’s a big stick inside almost everything he says.” I lit a cigarette and let out a big, smoky sigh. “Why do people do this kind of thing?” I said to myself.
“You mean, kill children?”
“I meant, Why kill them like this? It’s monstrous, isn’t it? Depraved.”
“I should have thought it was obvious,” said Grund.
“Oh? How’s that?”
“You’re the one who said he must be depraved. I couldn’t agree more. But is it any wonder? I say is it any wonder we have depraved people doing things like this when you consider the filth and depravity that’s tolerated by this fag end of a government? Look around you, Bernie. Berlin is like a big, slimy rock. Lift it up and you can see everything that crawls. The oilers, stripe men, wall-sliders, boot girls, sugarlickers, Munzis , T-girls. The women who are men and the men who are women. Sick. Venal. Corrupt. Depraved. And all of it tolerated by your beloved Weimar Republic.”
“I suppose everything will be different if Adolf Hitler gets into power.” I was laughing as I said it. The Nazis had done well in the most recent elections. But nobody sensible really believed they could run the country. Nobody thought for a minute that President Hindenburg was ever going to ask the man he detested most in the world—a guttersnipe NCO from Austria—to become the next chancellor of Germany.
“Why not? We’re going to need someone to restore order in this country.”
As he spoke, we heard another shot travel through the warm night air.
“And who better than the man who causes all the trouble to put an end to it, eh? I can sort of see the logic behind that, yes.”
One of the uniforms came over. We stood up. It was Sergeant Gollner, better known as Tanker—because of his size and shape.
“While you two were arguing,” he said, “I put a cordon around this part of the park. So as to keep the pot-watchers away. Last thing we want is any details of how she was killed getting into the newspapers. Giving stupid people stupid ideas. Confessing to things they haven’t done. We’ll have a closer look in the morning, eh? When it’s light.”
“Thanks, Tanker,” I said. “I should have—”
“Skip it.” He took a deep breath of a night air made moist by water a light breeze had carried from the fountain. “Nice
“So. It was an accident. I don’t see how that proves the Nazis organize most of the violence.”
“No? Well, you want to come round our way and take a look out of my apartment window on Dragonerstrasse. The Central Offices of the German Communist Party are just around the corner, on Bulowplatz. So that’s where the Nazis choose to exercise their democratic right to hold a parade. Does that seem reasonable? Does that sound law-abiding?”
“Proves my point, doesn’t it? You living in a Red area like that.”
“All it proves is that the Nazis are always spoiling for a fight.”
I bent down and flicked my flashlight up and down the dead girl’s body. Her upper half looked more or less normal. She was about thirteen or fourteen, blond, with pale blue eyes and a small galaxy of freckles around her pixie nose. It was a tomboyish sort of face, and you could easily have mistaken her for a boy. The matter of her sex was only confirmed by her small, adolescent breasts, the rest of her sexual organs having been removed along with her lower intestines, her womb, and whatever else gets packed in down there when a girl gets born. But it wasn’t her evisceration that caught my eye. In truth, both Heinrich and I had seen this kind of thing many times in the trenches. There was also the caliper on her left leg. I hadn’t noticed it before.
“No walking stick,” I said, tapping it with my pencil. “You’d think she’d have had one.”
“Maybe she didn’t need one. It’s not every cripple that needs a stick.”
“You’re right. Goebbels manages very well without one, doesn’t he? For a cripple. Then again there’s a big stick inside almost everything he says.” I lit a cigarette and let out a big, smoky sigh. “Why do people do this kind of thing?” I said to myself.
“You mean, kill children?”
“I meant, Why kill them like this? It’s monstrous, isn’t it? Depraved.”
“I should have thought it was obvious,” said Grund.
“Oh? How’s that?”
“You’re the one who said he must be depraved. I couldn’t agree more. But is it any wonder? I say is it any wonder we have depraved people doing things like this when you consider the filth and depravity that’s tolerated by this fag end of a government? Look around you, Bernie. Berlin is like a big, slimy rock. Lift it up and you can see everything that crawls. The oilers, stripe men, wall-sliders, boot girls, sugarlickers, Munzis , T-girls. The women who are men and the men who are women. Sick. Venal. Corrupt. Depraved. And all of it tolerated by your beloved Weimar Republic.”
“I suppose everything will be different if Adolf Hitler gets into power.” I was laughing as I said it. The Nazis had done well in the most recent elections. But nobody sensible really believed they could run the country. Nobody thought for a minute that President Hindenburg was ever going to ask the man he detested most in the world—a guttersnipe NCO from Austria—to become the next chancellor of Germany.
“Why not? We’re going to need someone to restore order in this country.”
As he spoke, we heard another shot travel through the warm night air.
“And who better than the man who causes all the trouble to put an end to it, eh? I can sort of see the logic behind that, yes.”
One of the uniforms came over. We stood up. It was Sergeant Gollner, better known as Tanker—because of his size and shape.
“While you two were arguing,” he said, “I put a cordon around this part of the park. So as to keep the pot-watchers away. Last thing we want is any details of how she was killed getting into the newspapers. Giving stupid people stupid ideas. Confessing to things they haven’t done. We’ll have a closer look in the morning, eh? When it’s light.”
“Thanks, Tanker,” I said. “I should have—”
“Skip it.” He took a deep breath of a night air made moist by water a light breeze had carried from the fountain. “Nice
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