by David Young
‘No, still the Republic, I guess. We’ve only been underway a couple of hours. But still, it’s interesting to see it from out at sea. And see it for the final time.’ He slaps me on the back. ‘We’ve done it, Irma. Are you excited?’
‘I will be,’ I say. ‘Once we’re safely in the West.’ I don’t tell him that I fear this is all a trap, and we’ll never get there. Or if we do, it will be like last time.
The male policeman snorts in a derisory manner.
Joachim aims a kick at him. ‘What’s that, Vopo? Was there something you wanted to say?’
The man shakes his head, but has a sly grin on his face. ‘No, no. I was clearing my nose.’
When Joachim turns away, the male policeman gives me a wink. I’m not sure what he intends it to mean. But to me, it signifies what I’ve feared all along.
We’re not as in control as we think we are.
At some stage soon, the tables will turn.
43
Müller was hoping no one would do anything stupid. Neither the construction soldiers, the Soviet crew, nor she hoped – down on the deck below – her deputy Werner Tilsner. Dieter and his gang had already proved themselves, if not trigger-happy, then more than willing to threaten to use weapons. The irony of it, when they were in fact little more than conscientious objectors, wasn’t lost on her.
Her first priority, though, was to get a message through to her family in the Hauptstadt. Even though the Soviets’ radio systems were likely to be more advanced than the Republic’s, she doubted she’d be able to talk to them, unless there was some way of patching a radio link through to the telephone system.
‘I’ve agreed to let her send a message to her family,’ Dieter said to the captain. All the while, he kept the pistol barrel at Müller’s temple. But oddly, she didn’t feel frightened for herself. Instead, she was suffused with a steely calm – trying to imagine this was happening to someone else. There was no point provoking them. It was already a powder keg situation. Thankfully, the Soviet captain appeared equally unmoved.
‘We can probably pass something on,’ said the captain. ‘Get her to write it down and I’ll make sure it’s delivered to the wireless room.’ The conversation was in Russian, but again Müller managed to understand the gist of it. The captain handed her a pad and pen, and she began a short message to try to reassure Helga, and at least give her grandmother something to read to the children.
But as she started to write, Müller found her emotions overwhelming her. She’d been shown to a desk at the side of the wheel, with Dieter standing behind her – the gun no longer at the side of her head, but at her back. In case she’d forgotten, from time to time he poked her with it.
High above the ice-covered sea, she could see into the far distance and the coast of the Republic. It hammered home to her just how far away from her children and little family she was. She swallowed back her tears and began to write a short note of love and reassurance.
*
The guard changed with regularity. Approximately every hour or so, Tilsner would be brought up at gunpoint, so that first Dieter, then Joachim could be relieved. The third one, Holger, seemed different. More thoughtful, less gung-ho. Dieter and Joachim gave the appearance of adrenalin junkies – as though they enjoyed teetering on the edge of calamity. Holger had a more stolid air – almost as if he knew things weren’t going to turn out well, but that he was resigned to his fate. It was a more realistic approach – and mirrored the way Müller felt.
He was less edgy with her, sitting next to her rather than forcing her to stand, letting her and the crew know his gun was there – but not constantly proving it with jabs of the barrel.
‘It’s still not too late to give yourselves in, you know,’ she said to him.
He gave a long sigh. ‘I don’t mind talking,’ he said, ‘but let’s not talk about that. It’s not going to happen.’
She tried to think of another approach. Perhaps being positive was the way. ‘What are your plans when you get to the BRD?’
He eyed her suspiciously, no doubt wondering what she was angling at. He shrugged. ‘Nothing very interesting. I just want to be left alone to live my life.’
‘What tipped you over the edge? Was it having to join the construction soldiers?’
‘Not particularly. I’m a mechanic by training. I’m used to getting my hands dirty.’
Müller looked down to inspect them – an almost Pavlovian reaction to check a suspect was telling the truth, even though this was hardly a standard interrogation.
‘As in cars?’
He nodded. ‘I like to find old bangers and restore them. I guess I’ll do something similar in the West. I haven’t really thought about it.’
‘Any relatives in the BRD?’
He nodded. ‘My uncle’s family live in Munich. Maybe I’ll head down there. I quite fancy the idea of going south, near the mountains. If I can’t get a job as a car mechanic to start with, maybe I’ll look for something in a ski resort. Repairing the lifts, that sort of thing. And get a bit of skiing in on the side. Do you ski?’
Müller laughed.
The young man looked confused. ‘Sorry, did I say something funny?’
‘No, sorry. I was thinking about the bizarre nature of this situation. Me, a police major, being held at gunpoint. You . . . ’
‘A deserter . . . an escaper . . . a kidnapper. Take your pick.’
‘And we’re talking about skiing, smashing through a frozen sea on a Soviet icebreaker . . . ’
‘Which, in effect, we’ve hijacked. It doesn’t look too good, does it?’
She looked at him with a shake of her head. ‘It doesn’t, Holger – if I can call you that – it doesn’t at all, I’m afraid. They won’t let you get away with it. You’ve come to realise that, haven’t you?’ She could see it was true in his face. Müller decided to take a calculated gamble – it was disloyal to Irma, but she didn’t owe the girl, or rather young woman, anything. In fact, Irma was in her debt. ‘I think Irma knows that too. Yes, if you gave yourselves up you would face a long jail sentence. But I would be prepared to speak up for you – that may help. You two need to try to persuade the others.’
‘Ha!’ He slapped his thigh with the gun, then came to his senses. ‘Can you imagine trying to persuade Dieter of anything? Or Joachim, come to that?’
‘What about Irma? She might have more chance – Dieter’s her boyfriend, after all. And she knows I’ll be true to my word about speaking up for you.’
‘How does she know?’
‘Because she’s been in a similar position before, Holger. She knows me.’
‘Knows you? From where?’
Müller drew herself up in her seat – trying to show the authority she wasn’t feeling.
‘Irma’s tried to escape the Republic before.’
‘No!’
‘Not just tried, she succeeded.’
The young man frowned. ‘That doesn’t make sense. Why was she back in the Republic then, working in a shitty job in the campsite?’
‘The BRD sent her back.’
‘I don’t believe you. That doesn’t happen.’
‘It does, I assure you.’
‘Why wasn’t she in jail? Everyone knows if you’re caught trying to escape it’s a long stretch in prison – at the very least.’
‘That’s a good question, Holger. Think about it. Why wasn’t she sent to jail? Can you think of a reason?’
Müller saw the look of horror slowly make itself clear on his face. Then the penny dropped. ‘Surely not?’
Müller nodded. ‘I’m afraid so, Holger. Irma works for the Stasi as an unofficial informer. I know that, because I know the Stasi colonel who arranged it all – her handler. It was a deal to stop her being sent back to the Jugendwerkhof.’
The young man continued to shake his head. ‘But that means . . . ’ He let the thought die in his mouth.
‘Exactly, Holger. That means all your
plans have been compromised, from the moment Dieter and Irma got together. The Stasi would have known everything.’
‘But . . . ’ He started to get up from his seat next to Müller. ‘I’m going to have to tell Dieter and Joachim.’ He prodded her with the gun. ‘You’d better come with me.’
‘I can and will, certainly, Holger. But is that the best course of action? I could be lying, and you’d make yourself look a fool if you confront Irma in front of the others.’ She saw him hesitate. ‘It’s up to you, of course, but what I’d suggest is you take her to one side in a quiet moment. See if what I’ve said is true. Ask her about Hamburg. Ask her about the Harz mountains and the Brocken. Ask her what happened to her friend Beate. Ask her who killed Beate’s boyfriend, Mathias. She might deny things, but you’ll see on her face that I’m telling the truth. Then you use that information to your advantage.’ Müller didn’t like what she was doing – playing with the young man, much in the way Jäger would. But if it meant she and Tilsner survived this nightmare, it was worth it.
Holger sat down, mulling over what the detective was telling him. ‘How?’
Müller knew he’d risen to the bait. Now to reel him in. ‘You threaten to expose her, but you don’t as long as she agrees to do what you want.’
‘And what do I want?’
‘You want to live, Holger. You don’t want to die in some bloodbath when Stasi agents – or even worse, Soviet troops – storm this ship. Yes, you’ll be locked up. Probably for quite a long time. But I promise, if you help me now, if you try to put an end to this, I will help you. So you use what I’ve told you to get Irma to persuade Dieter. She’s the only one he might listen to.’
44
It’s Dieter’s turn for the rota for bridge duty – holding Major Müller at gunpoint alongside the Soviet captain. The hours have been ticking by – but this side of the boat we can’t see anything other than an unbroken expanse of sea ice.
Dieter gives me a kiss as he takes the policeman with him to begin the handover. I almost shy away. I’m not sure if I even like him any more. My body tells me I do – my head tells me I don’t. The policeman obviously senses some of this – I see him smirking at me behind Dieter’s back.
Then Holger returns. After he waves Hauptmann Tilsner back to his bedroll, he shakes Joachim awake.
‘Can you keep an eye on him a moment?’ he asks his friend. ‘I need to show Irma something.’
It’s an odd request, but Joachim shakes himself awake and gets his gun ready.
Holger ushers me out into the gangway.
We move over to the other side of the ship. Here, through the porthole, I can see the sea ice give way in the distance to a snow-covered coastline. The Republic, or the BRD? I’ve no idea. All I know is, we must be getting close to our destination. All around us, we can hear the repetitive thunderous noise as the vessel ploughs relentlessly through the ice.
‘I’ve got a horrible feeling about this, Irma. It’s not going to turn out well.’
Is that all he wants to do? Bleat about our situation? He should have thought about that before he joined this deadly adventure – as should I.
‘I don’t think they’re going to take us to the West,’ he continues, ‘still less let us get away. It doesn’t make any sense.’
‘They will – otherwise the two police officers die.’
‘And you can say that so callously, can you? I wonder why that is?’
I glare at him. ‘What do you mean by that?’
‘I mean, what happened to your friends from the Jugendwerkhof. Who was it? Oh yes, Beate?’
I look at him in shock. ‘What do you know about Beate?’
‘Or perhaps I should ask you how Mathias died?’
And then realisation dawns. How could I be so stupid? After all, the notion that Major Müller is my friend was ridiculous from the start. She’s been feeding him information.
‘Do you want me to go on, Irma? I mean, we could talk about why – despite being guilty of Republikflucht – you weren’t sent back to the Jugendwerkhof. Do you want to tell me about the deal you made to ensure that didn’t happen? About who you had to supply information to.’
That does it. I kick him as hard as I can on the shin, then furiously pummel his stomach until those strong, meaty hands grab hold of mine and he pulls me into a bear hug. ‘Calm down,’ he whispers in my ear. I’m sure he can feel the wetness of my tears against his cheek. I’m sure he can sense my utter defeat. How I hate myself for what I’ve become. ‘I’m sorry I had to say those things. I swear to you, they will remain a secret between us two. But—’
‘But what?’
‘But you have to help me. Help us.’
‘How?’
‘Now I know what you went through before, I’m even more certain that this isn’t going to end well. They’re trying to trick us. Lull us into a false sense of security. Then they’ll strike. Even now, attack helicopters could be on their way to storm the ship. They were probably waiting until it got nearer to the coast. We have to try to persuade Dieter to give up. It’s the only way we’ll survive. And you’re the only person he’ll listen to.’
‘Ha! You think he’ll listen to me? I don’t think he will. The man is on a mission. He will see it through to the bitter end, whatever that may be.’
‘We know what it will be, Irma. That’s why you have to try to convince him.’
‘And if I don’t, or won’t?’
‘It’s not in my nature to be disloyal. But if you force me to tell him about you, if you won’t help us get out of this mess, I won’t hesitate to reveal to him what you really are.’
*
Holger hasn’t left me with a choice. It’s little more than blackmail – and I thought he was a genuinely nice guy. Looks can be deceptive.
We go together back up to the bridge.
Dieter looks confused and worried.
‘What are you two doing up here?’ he hisses.
‘I’ll look after her again for a moment,’ says Holger. I see the policewoman throw him a small smile. They’re in cahoots, no doubt. ‘Irma wants a word with you.’
‘Well, she can say what she wants here. We’ve no secrets between us.’
‘In private, Dieter,’ I insist. ‘I don’t want the whole world and his wife knowing my business.’
He rolls his eyes, but nods. Before he leaves the detective’s side, he makes sure Holger’s gun is trained on her instead of his own.
*
‘I hope it’s something important,’ he says, once I’ve got him away from the bridge.
‘It is. I want to hand myself in. I want us all to hand ourselves in.’
‘I thought you were made of stronger stuff, Irma. I didn’t take you for a coward.’
I want to tell him it’s a bit rich, a construction soldier accusing someone else of cowardice, but I bite my tongue. ‘It’s not cowardice,’ I say. ‘It’s realism. They are not going to let us get away with this. Look out there,’ I urge, pointing through the porthole window. ‘What do you see?’
‘A frozen sea, and the coast.’
‘But do you know if it’s the Republic or the BRD?’
‘We’ve been getting closer to the shoreline. But I looked over the captain’s shoulder at his radar screen. We’re still on course for Lübeck.’
‘They won’t let us get as far as Lübeck, Dieter, you know that. I’m asking you to give yourself in now. For me, for us. Yes, we’d be apart for some years in prison, but then we’d be released eventually and be together again.’ I pull him towards me. Whisper urgently in his ear. ‘Please, Dieter. For my sake. For all our sakes.’
He pushes me away. I can see in his eyes he’s unmoved. They burn with revolutionary fervour. It’s that Che Guevara look I used to find irresistible. Now, it spells danger to me. Danger to all of us.
‘I told you before, Irma. You’re in it now. In it till the end. But have more faith, please. Everything’s worked out so far, hasn’t it?’
I swear under my breath. ‘I suppose so.’
‘Have a little more faith in me then. Everything will turn out fine. Before you know it, we will be celebrating with rum and colas in a Western bar. And none of that Vita Cola shit. The real thing, Irma. That’s our goal. No more of the shitty lives we led in the Republic. The real thing is within our grasp.’
45
Müller knew it was the endgame when she saw the helicopter hovering in the distance. Dieter next to her hadn’t spotted it yet – but even though it was no more than a dot in the sky, she could tell from the shape it was a Volkspolizei Kamov Ka-26, the same model they’d used in their chase of Johannes Traugott through the Thuringian forest to Oberhof. When he and his wife had stolen her twin babies in scarcely credible circumstances at the hospital in Halle-Neustadt – thrusting Müller and her family to the very centre of the missing and murdered babies case she was supposed to be investigating. For that reason, it was an aircraft she’d never forget: she’d been on a desperate hunt for her own abducted hours-old baby son. The thought made her pine for Jannika and Johannes again. Helga too. But she had to hold herself together. It didn’t look like they were preparing to storm the icebreaker – at least it wasn’t a People’s Army attack helicopter – but she knew that could change at any moment.
The question was, would the Republic’s authorities allow the vessel to reach the BRD as Dieter expected? Müller scarcely found that credible. Her scepticism was borne out when she saw a well-known building on the horizon – something the icebreaker seemed to be heading towards. The Teepott at Warnemünde – next to and below the town’s lighthouse – its futuristically curved roof looking like the two wings of a squat beetle about to take flight, rather than the teapot of its nickname. It might remind some people of the much grander Sydney Opera House, and its sail-like roofs – but Müller knew the Republic’s version had been completed several years before Australia’s pride and joy.
Dieter still hadn’t seen it, hadn’t registered what it meant. But – with his gun jammed against her ribs – he looked to be taking a renewed interest at the icebreaker captain’s radar screen. Müller prepared herself. Warnemünde meant one thing. Irma, Dieter and their gang had indeed been tricked. This ship wasn’t heading to Lübeck – and probably never had been.