Sidney Chambers and The Dangers of Temptation

by James Runcie

  ‘He knows about everything,’ Sibilla Leber interrupted, before muttering the word neugierig once more.

  ‘I suppose everyone has heard the story,’ Hanna answered, ‘even tourists like you.’

  ‘My husband is not a tourist,’ Hildegard pointed out, but it didn’t matter. Hanna Pietsch didn’t seem to worry who was listening to her.

  ‘Public shame, no matter how long ago, can never become a secret. Our lives are summed up in so few ways: Sibilla is the one whose husband was a communist hero; Günter was the one with the unhappy wife; I am the old widow whose husband was in prison.’

  ‘Did your husband blame anyone for his imprisonment?’ Hildegard asked.

  ‘It was only to be expected.’

  ‘In private, did he think Günter’s father was responsible?’

  ‘He didn’t like to see his friend profit at our expense. But you know what they say? Wo Geld kehrt und wendt, hat die Freundschaft bald ein End. All friendships soon turn cold when money is involved.’

  Sidney took over once more. ‘Was your son aware of his father’s feelings?’

  ‘Otto did not know the Jansen family was directly responsible. He only found out recently, after my husband died. Someone told him at the funeral.’

  ‘And was he angry?’

  ‘I think so. But he didn’t behave any differently in public. Only at home. Emotion can be dangerous in this country. People do not like to talk about how they feel. It makes them vulnerable. Then others can take advantage.’

  Sibilla Leber said that she was surprised Hanna was speaking so freely.

  ‘I am too old to care,’ the widow replied. ‘What can they do to me?’

  ‘Do you know where Otto is?’ Sidney asked.

  ‘He just said he was leaving for a few days. He wanted to get away. He never tells me where he is going. He doesn’t have to, I suppose. He is a grown man. That does not mean I do not keep the food ready for him. But it’s hard. Do you have a son, Mr Chambers?’

  ‘No. I have a beautiful daughter. Anna.’

  ‘My husband always wanted a boy but I think I would rather have had a little girl. They are better at looking after their parents.’

  Sidney could see that Sibilla Leber was about to interrupt and contradict this statement but thought better of it.

  Hanna Pietsch continued. ‘Now I am old I do not know what will become of me. It would be easier if I still believed in God but too much has happened for me to do that.’

  ‘He is still there,’ said Sidney, ‘waiting for you.’

  ‘I cannot hear him calling. Perhaps it is too late for his mercy.’

  Sidney leant forward. ‘God’s love will not let us go. He is with us. His love surrounds us. His call still summons us.’

  ‘Then he may have to wait a long time. I’m tired now. I do not like these questions. Please leave me.’

  As they left the building, Sidney put his arm around Hildegard. She was shivering. He saw how sad this visit home was making her. He wished they had not come.

  The following day the Chambers family drove off to the Jasmund woods above Saßnitz to cheer themselves up a bit. Anna had been promised a trip to an enchanted forest where she could imagine all her favourite fairy tales with woodland settings coming to life: Hansel and Gretel, Little Red Riding Hood, Snow White and Rapunzel. Hildegard said they would discover an almost holy wilderness, the true and ancient Germany amidst the high trees, shallow ponds and sunlit clearings. It would be their own adventure, just the three of them, alone and together in a homeland she had always known and loved.

  She hummed the Bach chorale ‘Now all the woods are sleeping’ as she drove up the tree-lined hill on the edge of Saßnitz, passing a church that was almost entirely hidden by forestation. They then found themselves in a vast and eerie landscape, gravid with mystery and possibility. There were no lower branches on the densely planted beech trees; nor was there bracken on the ground to obscure the view. Instead, the forest stretched out before them, immense, unbounded and unknowable. There were paths to prevent them getting lost but it was difficult to tell where any of them led. There was no horizon; only an infinity of possibility. After walking for almost an hour, the family sat in a little hollow, enjoyed a picnic, and then lay down and looked up at the sky.

  ‘Hello, Mr Moon, when are you coming back?’ Anna asked and found there was an echo.

  ‘Hello, hello, hello. Mr Mooooooon!’

  Overhead they heard starlings, jays, the odd crow, and, in the far distance, the cries and laughter of children sounding as if they came from another life, a previous generation calling back to them across time.

  ‘This is more like home,’ said Hildegard. ‘No people, no ideology, no conflict. A land that survives them all. This will still be here when everything else is past. Do you believe in the wisdom of the forest, Sidney?’

  ‘Isn’t the idea that people go into the woods to be tested in some way? They almost always get lost but they come out a different person. What was lost is found. You can’t get more Christian than that.’

  ‘It’s a risk, isn’t it? You may get lost and you might even die.’

  ‘But, as Shakespeare has it, out of this nettle, danger, we pluck this flower, safety.’

  ‘If trees could speak . . .’

  Anna was inspecting the hollow of a beech that might have served as the entrance to a magical underground kingdom. ‘Trees can’t speak, Mummy. Don’t be silly.’

  Hildegard smiled and called back to her daughter. ‘I like being silly sometimes, Anna. Don’t you?’

  ‘Not all the time. That would be silly.’

  ‘So,’ Sidney concluded, ‘being silly all the time is silly?’

  ‘Yes, Daddy, but not as silly as you and your stupid questions.’

  As they drove back, Sidney confessed that he was still troubled by Günter’s accident. The official account didn’t make sense.

  ‘It will be hard to contradict,’ Hildegard pointed out. ‘And it will be unpopular if you make your feelings known. The police are telling a very straightforward story. It was dark and late and it took place at a familiar blackspot.’

  ‘Jürgen suspects something,’ Sidney continued. ‘I feel sure of it.’

  ‘You think Günter was run off the road by someone he knew? By Otto? Is that why he has disappeared?’

  ‘Don’t you think that there is something wrong about the way the authorities have closed this without any investigation? They aren’t even looking for the driver.’

  They passed the first sign for Binz. ‘Isn’t this the road where it happened?’

  ‘It is,’ said Hildegard.

  ‘Then can we stop at the site of the accident? There can’t be that many turns out of Prora. It’s only four or five kilometres.’

  ‘We don’t want to be questioned by the police.’

  ‘Humour me, my darling. Just for a moment.’

  ‘It may not be so funny if we’re arrested. They don’t need an excuse.’

  ‘We can pretend to be lost.’

  ‘On a straight road?’

  ‘Or to have broken down. It won’t take long.’

  Hildegard pulled over. ‘Five minutes only,’ she said. ‘Come on, Anna, we’re going exploring.’

  ‘Is it a treasure hunt?’ Anna asked.

  ‘Yes. We need to find ten pine cones and three tyre tracks.’

  Once they had got out of the car, Sidney made his first observation. ‘Günter would have had to stop to turn left.’

  ‘Unless he didn’t.’

  ‘But even if there was no traffic, he would have had to slow down when crossing the railway tracks. It’s hard to believe he could have been travelling fast enough to skid.’

  ‘I’ve got three pine cones already,’ said Anna.

  Hildegard looked for evidence of where Günter’s bike must have ended up. At first they could not find any. Sidney suggested searching further up the road. Eventually, with Anna’s help, they found an indentation in the ditch.


  ‘I think that’s where a wheel’s been, Mummy. And there’s a piece of metal. Look, it’s a mirror . . .’

  ‘Well done, Anna. Now see if you can find some more cones.’

  ‘This may be part of Günter’s wing mirror,’ said Sidney.

  ‘That’s odd,’ Hildegard noted. ‘It’s before the turn.’

  ‘Unless he was going the other way?’ Sidney asked.

  ‘I think we have to assume he was travelling home.’

  Hildegard thought out loud. ‘Which means that either he took the turn before or he was hit by a car coming from the opposite direction. He could have been knocked backwards and dragged along. If that is the case, we need to inspect the bike.’

  ‘Also,’ Sidney observed, walking to a narrow turning point by the railway line, ‘if he emerged here, instead, he still wouldn’t have had enough time to build up sufficient speed to lose control and kill himself. He was hit, I’m sure of it.’

  ‘Another piece of metal, Daddy.’

  ‘Good girl.’

  ‘But if it was deliberate,’ Hildegard replied, ‘whoever did it must have known exactly when and where Günter was going to be on the road. They could even have followed him . . .’

  ‘There could also have been a second driver.’

  ‘Do you mean Otto and Karl could have been working together?’ Hildegard asked.

  ‘And even with Rolf Müller.’

  ‘That really would mean trouble,’ said Hildegard. ‘We should get back.’

  Anna had found seven more pine cones and declared herself the winner. She hoped they could have ice creams on the beach when they returned to Binz.

  ‘There is a phrase in German,’ Hildegard said, as she started the car once more, ‘auf dem Holzweg sein, which means “to be on the wooden path”. It comes from the idea that when huge trees fall in the forest their trunks open up a new way through the woods. Travellers follow it, get lost and end up nowhere. I think you call it “barking up the wrong tree”. I hope we’re not doing that.’

  ‘And is there a phrase for barking up the right tree?’

  ‘There is – auf dem richtigen Weg sein. We just have to find it.’

  On their return to the Villa Friede, they discovered that Rolf Müller had paid a visit. Someone had reported that they had seen Hildegard, Sidney and their child ‘acting suspiciously’ on the main road. He now demanded that Mr and Mrs Chambers left matters well alone if they wanted to avoid arrest. Sidney did not like to ask on what charge, as he knew by now that anything could be made up to suit: spying, probably.

  Günter’s motorbike was also available for collection from the Volkspolizisten. Maria Jansen could pick it up in exchange for a necessary payment, ideally in Deutschmarks, the West German currency.

  She sent Sidney and Hildegard. Once they got to the station on Jasmunderstraße, Rolf Müller ticked them off for their curiosity and reminded the ‘honoured guests’ that the investigation had been concluded. Günter had driven off the road. No other vehicle had been involved. As they had suspected, it was a simple case of a drunken driver losing control at an accident blackspot. The bike was not in perfect condition, the tyre pressure was down, the brakes were worn, and there were plenty of scuffs and scratches from previous incidents which indicated that the victim was persistently reckless.

  As Hildegard went to complete all the necessary paperwork and pay a fee, Sidney took a closer look at the bike. Most predominant were traces of pale-blue paint on the left of the back mudguard; if Günter had been driven off the road, this was the most likely colour of Trabi responsible: the same as Karl Fischer’s car.

  He started working away with his fingernail and discovered what he thought were two different types of paintwork; both pale blue and dark green. Someone had gone over the original damage in order to disguise it. It had not been done well. This was either all too hasty or a deliberate attempt to incriminate someone.

  Hildegard emerged from the office and announced that the bike would be returned later that day. Both the paperwork and the police inquiry were complete. Just before they left, however, Sidney could not resist asking Rolf Müller one last question. ‘Did you get your money?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I remember in the Bierhalle; how you told us all that Günter owed you money, but he could start by paying off his debt in beer.’

  ‘I don’t remember that.’

  ‘Perhaps it doesn’t matter.’

  ‘Those kinds of debts are cancelled after a death.’

  ‘What will happen to the Pensionshaus Garni?’ Sidney asked.

  ‘The one Günter was going to take over? It will stay within state control. No one will profit.’

  ‘There’s no chance of Otto Pietsch being able to look after it? It used to belong to his father.’

  ‘That is impossible. Why do you ask?’

  ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  ‘I think it does. I have noticed that you are persistent, Mr Chambers.’

  Hildegard stepped in. ‘My husband likes to know how everything works. He is curious in that way.’

  ‘Politics is best left to the politicians: the Church to the clergy. Each have their own way of doing things, and if things are not explained that is not always so bad.’

  ‘I think it is better when everything is out in the open,’ said Sidney.

  ‘Do you really?’ Müller continued. ‘I thought priests preferred mysteries.’

  ‘That’s probably why he feels so at home here,’ Hildegard interrupted, keen to dilute the tension.

  ‘I’m not sure that I do,’ said Sidney.

  ‘Then it’s probably just as well that you won’t be here for much longer,’ Rolf Müller concluded. He began to move away, keen to get back to his work.

  ‘Could I ask one more question?’ Sidney pressed. ‘I think Günter Jansen’s body was found on the right-hand side of the road?’

  ‘That is correct; towards Binz.’

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t understand. We drive on the left in England and so it is sometimes confusing.’

  ‘I am sure you don’t need to worry. You will not be doing much more driving here.’

  ‘I don’t intend to. It would be too dangerous. I just wanted to know, if the victim left the road and fell into the right-hand ditch, why the angle of impact on his bike is from the left? That would imply that someone hit him from the side as he crossed the road; quite violently, perhaps even deliberately.’

  ‘He fell to the right. There was no other vehicle involved.’

  ‘With the bike dented on the left.’

  ‘He must have turned over.’

  ‘With a sidecar?’

  ‘He was travelling at speed. We know Günter liked to drive fast. There is no mystery to this. It was late and dark and the man had drunk too much. He was keen to get home. He made a miscalculation. That is all. Please, no more questions. This is your last warning. My colleagues are not so tolerant of interference.’

  Back at the Villa Friede, Hildegard tentatively asked Maria if she had seen Karl Fischer.

  ‘He came to offer his condolences.’

  ‘What about Otto Pietsch? Has he paid you a visit?’

  ‘He was not so fond of my husband.’

  ‘Did you ever see them argue?’

  ‘Once; after his father’s funeral. Günter said Otto was drunk, making accusations. He went to see him afterwards.’

  ‘Was it about the Pensionhaus Garni?’

  ‘I wouldn’t know.’

  ‘Günter was going to take it over. It had belonged to Otto’s father.’

  ‘Nothing “belongs” to anyone for long. Why does it matter now that everyone is dead?’

  ‘Because Otto seems to be missing. His mother doesn’t know where he is.’

  ‘Perhaps he has gone away.’

  ‘Would you know where?’

  ‘Karl might. They are friends.’

  ‘And would Karl tell you?’

  ‘Why would he
do that?’

  ‘Because you love each other. You have no secrets.’

  Maria almost smiled. ‘You think it is all as simple as that?’

  In Jürgen’s room, Sidney tried once again to ask the boy about the night of the accident. ‘Is there anything you want to tell me?’

  Jürgen said nothing but handed Sidney an earphone. Once he had checked it was in his guest’s ear properly, the boy turned the knob of his cassette recorder. Play. Stop. Rewind. He had to go over the actions several times before Sidney could understand that he was listening to part of a conversation between Maria and Karl Fischer. They seemed to be talking about a sparrow or a starling, a Spatz, which could not find its nest. He would have to ask Hildegard.

  ‘Hat der Spatz seinen Baum gefunden?’ This was Maria’s voice. ‘Has the sparrow found its tree?’

  And Karl had replied, ‘Ja, sein Nest ist am Boden. Yes, his nest is on the ground.’

  That evening, Hildegard and Sidney visited Karl Fischer. He lived in a modern detached house, not far from the Villa Friede on the Wylichstraße, with the sea at one end of the street and a lake at the other. Three iron swallows decorated the frontage.

  As they had suspected, Maria Jansen was already there.

  Karl Fischer expressed his surprise but gave them a tentative welcome and asked them to sit down. Hildegard apologised for the intrusion. She and her husband just wanted to ask about the night of the Friendship Festival. There were a few things neither of them could understand.

  ‘Death is always hard,’ Karl replied.

  ‘But we wanted to ask about the living.’

  ‘It’s difficult to remember. Everyone had drunk so much.’

  Sidney decided to take a risk. ‘I think you were sober enough to drive. You gave everyone a lift.’

  ‘It doesn’t really matter how we all got home, does it? The fact is that Günter did not.’

  ‘And I think you, and perhaps all your friends, know why.’

  ‘Of course we do. He drove off the road. The police inquiry has concluded.’

  Hildegard hesitated. ‘Rolf Müller has told you. Already?’

  ‘It’s obvious.’

  ‘I am not sure that it is,’ said Sidney. ‘We looked at Günter’s motorbike and found traces of paintwork at the rear. We think he may have been hit by a green car.’