6 I guess that’s that

My fever returned, and I had the night nurse give me two aspirin. “You don’t look too good,” she told me. “Why don’t you go home and lie down?”

I shook my head. “Is there somewhere here I can sleep for a few hours?”

“We’ve got a second storeroom at the end of the corridor. I can have a bed set up.”

As I lay there, my thoughts went to Samarin. Was the air in his room as stuffy as it was in here? Did he too feel claustrophobic? Did he hear the humming of the central heating? The room had no window, and it was pitch-dark. I held my hands in front of my face but couldn’t see them.

Sometimes I think something is over and done with when in fact things are just beginning. That’s what had happened to me in the morning, when Welker and Samarin had walked me to my car. Sometimes I also think I’m in the middle of something, but in fact it’s already over. Was what we had wanted to bring to an end that night, in effect, already over? Of course it hadn’t happened yet. But were the roles already doled out in such a way and the conditions such that whatever happened, whatever we chose to do, would still have the same result?

It was only a feeling. A fear. The fear of being too slow again, of not being fast enough to see what was actually taking place. So I weighed everything that Welker wanted, what Samarin wanted, at best what both of them would get, at worst what both would lose, what they might surprise each other with, and what they might surprise us with.

Immersed in these reflections, I fell asleep. At midnight the nurse woke me up. “The others are back.”

Philipp, Nägelsbach, and Welker were sitting in the nurses’ room, discussing where the exchange was to take place. Welker wanted a hidden, secret place, preferably somewhere on the outskirts of the city.

Nägelsbach preferred an open, brightly lit area, or a street somewhere downtown. “I want to be able to see these people!”

“Everybody started to chip in. So we can make sure they don’t try to trick us? We’ll tell them where and when we’ll meet. We’ll inform them of the time of our meeting so they won’t be able to trick us.”

“But a place that is well-lit and open…”

“During the exchange, one or two of us should be standing by-someone who can see everything, but won’t be seen. Someone who can step in if need be.”

We decided on the Luisenpark. There were trees and shrubs behind which one could hide, but there was also a wide lawn. Samarin’s men were to drive up the Werderstrasse, while we would come up the Lessingstrasse with Samarin. The exchange would take place in the middle of the park.

“Shall we do the exchange, Philipp, while the two of you stand in reserve?” I suggested. The others nodded, and Nägelsbach agreed to wear his police jacket and cap again. “Perhaps it’s good if we can act as if the police are on our side.”

All we could do now was wait. The big old alarm clock in the nurses’ room chopped the time into little pieces. Nägelsbach had found some boxes of matches and was building a little tower, two matches one way and two the other, all the heads facing outward. Welker kept his eyes shut. His face was tense, as if he were concentrating on a difficult mathematical equation. Philipp was excitedly looking forward to the exchange as an adventure.

I went to the storeroom, turned on the light, and had Samarin talk to his men. “They’ve already been at the Augusta-anlage for ten minutes.”

“Tell them to wait there until they get further instructions.”

Then I released his straps and helped him off the bed.

“What about this?” he asked, nodding down to the strait-jacket that tied his arms across his chest.

I hung his coat over his shoulders. “Your men can take that off for you.”

Even in the straitjacket he looked dangerous, as if he could crush me against the wall with his massive, powerful body. I kept my distance until we got to the car. He didn’t say a word, not when he saw the others, among them Nägelsbach in uniform, not when Nägelsbach and I had him sit between us on the backseat, not during the drive.

We parked in the Lessingstrasse, and Welker and Nägelsbach got out and walked off. I explained to Samarin where his men were to take the children into the park, and he informed his men.

Then we got out, too, and waited at the entrance to the park, Philipp to the right of Samarin, I to the left. I couldn’t see Nägelsbach and Welker, but I could see the shrubs at the other end of the park where they were going to hide. There was a half moon, bright enough for the bushes, trees, and benches to be clearly visible. The broad lawn shimmered gray. I was again beset by the fear that I had overlooked something and tried once more to weigh everything. We would send Samarin and they would send us the children. Or would they just shoot Philipp and me? Might they fail to turn up for the exchange and simply watch us and wait for us to retreat, exhausted and rattled, and then attack us? Might they… But my fever wouldn’t let me think straight. Suddenly I found the situation unreal, bordering on the absurd. Somewhere in the distance Nägelsbach and Welker lay in wait, ready to jump out and shout “Surprise!,” terrifying the enemy. Next to me Samarin stood like a bear with a ring in his nose and a chain on the ring. I wouldn’t have been surprised had I heard the chain clink with every step. Philipp peered into the darkness with anxiety and pleasure, like a hunter on the prowl.

At the other end of the park headlights appeared. A big car stopped and two men got out. They opened the back doors and helped a boy and a girl get out. They walked toward us and we walked toward them. There was silence, except for our steps on the gravel.

When we were twenty meters away I said to Samarin: “Tell them to stop and send the children to us.”

He barked some orders in Russian. The men stopped and said something to the boy and the girl that sounded like “Go on!” The children came toward us.

“I guess that’s that,” I said.

Samarin nodded and walked toward his men. He reached them and they exchanged a few words, then began to walk toward Werderstrasse. The children asked what was happening and where their father was, but Philipp growled at them to keep quiet and hurry. When we got to the entrance of the park we looked back. We looked back at the very moment it happened.

We didn’t see where the shot came from; we only heard it. After the first shot there was immediately a second one. We saw Samarin collapse and his two companions crouch down to assist him, or to shield themselves, or both. I thought Oh God! and heard the silence in the park and the echo of the shots in my head, and then mayhem broke loose. Samarin’s men got up and, still firing shots, ran toward their car, jumped in, and were gone.

Before I could even formulate the thought Get the children in the car, one of us with them! they were running off, shouting, “Dad!”

Welker had come out from behind the bushes at the other end of the park. He came toward them and hugged them. Philipp ran over to Samarin. When I got there, out of breath, Philipp straightened up. “He’s dead.”

“Where’s Nägelsbach?”

Philipp looked around. “Where’s Nägelsbach!” he shouted at Welker.

Welker pointed to the bushes at the end of the path. “That’s where he…”

Then we saw him. He came toward us, dragging his feet, his hand pressed to his side.

“You idiot!” Philipp said to Welker. I had never seen him so furious. “Quick, Gerhard! We’ve got to get him to the car.”

We ran over to Nägelsbach, propped him up, and slowly, step-by-step, made our way to the car.

Welker followed us. “What should I-”

“Wait for the police to come!”

The lights went on in some of the houses.