A Darker State

by David Young

  ‘OK,’ I say. ‘Tell me more.’

  40

  Three months later (December 1976)

  Bautzen II

  It took Tilsner just over two and a half hours to drive the two hundred plus kilometres from Keibelstrasse to Bautzen. The quaintness of the town was at odds with the two brutal prisons Tilsner knew it contained. But from this approach they weren’t visible – instead the skyline was dominated by the various towers of its historic buildings.

  He glanced across at Reiniger, who had been uncharacteristically silent for most of the journey. ‘You haven’t been saying very much, Comrade Oberst.’

  ‘You can imagine I’m not best pleased with you, Hauptmann. You undermined me during that telephone call – and if you make an enemy of Jäger, or make me an enemy of his, the world can start to get dangerous.’

  ‘I really don’t care, Comrade Oberst. What I care about is getting my boss out of jail and back on this case. That should be all you care about too. It seems obvious to me that we must be getting very close to solving it, and some people – possibly even the powers that be – don’t want us to.’

  ‘Don’t try to tell me my job, Hauptmann. Treading on thin ice doesn’t even begin to describe your situation.’

  *

  They waited in a side street, making sure they had a clear view of the entrance to the walled and razor-wire-topped prison compound. A few minutes before 1 p.m., a black Volvo drew up and slowly drove past. Tilsner signalled with his arm from the window, and Jäger pulled in behind them.

  Once all three were out of the cars and walking towards the prison entrance, Tilsner addressed the Stasi colonel. ‘Is it all sorted?’

  Jäger eyeballed him with a deadpan expression. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

  *

  Müller paced the cell. The chain-smoking of her cellmate enveloped her in a cloud of foul fumes, and Müller’s constant toing and froing was a vain attempt to try to circulate the air. The woman was pleasant enough, despite her dismay at discovering that she was sharing her incarceration with a Vopo. But neither of them had more than snatches of sleep. The light above the door had constantly flashed on and off, so that dozing for a few minutes was all Müller could manage.

  ‘You should lie down while you can,’ the cellmate said. ‘They’ll soon be putting you to work in the basement. Save your energy.’

  ‘I won’t be staying here,’ insisted Müller. ‘There’s been a mistake. I’ll be released today when they realise.’

  ‘Pah!’ snorted the woman, blowing out another cloud of white, suffocating smoke, and then coughing repeatedly. Müller slapped her back lightly. ‘That’s what they all say,’ she rasped. ‘But trust me, they don’t make mistakes. You might not be guilty of anything, or you might not think you’re guilty of anything, but you’re in here for a reason. Because they want you in here. They want to break you.’

  The rattle of the guards’ keys in the metal door ended the brief conversation.

  Two guards entered. ‘You!’ one of them shouted, pointing at Müller. ‘You’re coming with me, now.’

  Müller made a futile attempt to wriggle free as the guard tried to cuff her hand to his. Then she closed her eyes, relaxed her arm and let him drag her out, as his colleague stood watch over her cellmate, who was smirking to herself.

  *

  She’d assumed she was being taken down to the basement work area, as her cellmate had mentioned. Either that or being dragged to the same sort of interrogation room she’d met a desperate Gottfried in during his confinement.

  Instead, she was led through the prison, along the wire-caged first-floor landing, down the central metal steps, and out to what looked like the staff and administration area. She was shown into an empty meeting room, and as he unlocked the cuffs the guard told her to wait. Someone would be in to see her shortly. The guard then exited the room and locked the door behind him.

  Müller took a few breaths of the cleaner air. People had been smoking in here too. There was a faint smell of tobacco, but compared to the constant choking fug of the cell, it almost felt like she was in the open, country air. The minutes ticked by with nothing happening – perhaps this was part of the process, the attempt to break you. But she had nothing to confess. She wrung her hands and tugged at her prison overalls, the starched material chafing at her skin. She tried not to let hope enter her mind: the hope that soon she would be free, and able to see her young family again.

  When the door did open, she was surprised to see Jäger, followed by Reiniger. Both smiling, but their smiles seemed forced, as though there was an underlying tension. She felt a fluttering in her stomach; this had to be a good thing, surely?

  ‘Sit down, Karin,’ said Jäger, who himself pulled out a chair and sat across the desk, elbows on the table, and fingers steepled together under his chin. ‘As you can imagine, there’s been a misunderstanding. We’re trying to sort it out at the moment. Your clothes should be arriving shortly, then we’ll give you a lift back to the Hauptstadt.’

  Müller gave a laugh, but even she could hear the edge to it. The heat of anger flushed through her body. ‘A misunderstanding?’ she said in a level tone. ‘A misunderstanding that sees me arrested in front of my children and grandmother? An old woman knocked to the floor by thugs from your own ministry? That’s some misunderstanding.’

  Reiniger sighed. ‘Clearly something’s gone wrong, Karin. We’re doing our best to help you. Your arrest was nothing to do with either of us, but Klaus has gone out on a limb to secure your freedom. There will be no further action—’

  ‘Further action? Hah! Why was there any action in the first place? I’ve done nothing wrong, nothing at all.’

  Jäger nodded in agreement. ‘As I say, it was a misunderstanding. Some members of a regional branch of the Ministry exceeded their remit.’

  Müller could guess who. Baum and his lackey Diederich. ‘I trust that they will be punished?’

  Jäger rubbed his hand across his face. ‘Let’s just concentrate on returning you to your family. We can talk about everything else another time. Your clothes should have been cleaned and will be here in a moment. You’ll be taken to the changing room, and then brought back here. Then we’ll get you home to Berlin.’

  41

  Müller had been surprised to see Tilsner, too, waiting for her as they left the prison. He attempted to speak to her, but Jäger ushered her away firmly. There seemed to be something her deputy was eager to talk to her about, but Jäger thwarted him by making sure she came back in his Volvo to the Hauptstadt, with Tilsner driving Reiniger.

  Müller used the rear-view mirror to check her make-up. Minimal, as always. Just a dab of mascara. ‘Now we’re alone, are you willing to tell me more about what’s happening?’

  Jäger stared fixedly ahead. Snow was falling steadily, but although it was settling on the embankments and verges of the autobahn, so far it was little more than slush on the actual road surface.

  ‘I’ve told you about as much as I’m allowed to.’

  ‘So was it all at the behest of the Frankfurt Stasi? I’m convinced they don’t want us to get to the bottom of our investigation.’

  He sighed and turned to her briefly. ‘Perhaps it was a warning to you. And perhaps you ought to heed it.’ He turned his gaze back to the road. ‘I had to go right to the very top to get you out. Pull in a lot of favours again.’

  ‘So are you going to try to get Reiniger to take Tilsner off the case?’

  ‘No, but I’ll be taking a personal interest from now on.’

  ‘I thought you worked for the Main Intelligence Directorate – the foreign branch. How does this possibly interest you?’

  ‘Your meetings with Metzger. He concerns us . . . or rather did, though we still have to make sure there is no fallout that comes our way from his untimely death.’

  Müller fell silent. Jäger appeared happy to let her think her arrest was Baum and Diederich’s work. But what if it wasn’t? What if the peo
ple who seized her were from Jäger’s own department? What if he knew? What if he authorised it? And then had second thoughts when Reiniger intervened.

  As Jäger wiped condensation from the Volvo’s windscreen with his handkerchief, Müller hunkered down into her red raincoat. What had Tilsner been trying to say? Was he attempting to warn her about something? Was Jäger even taking her back to her apartment as he claimed, or were they actually on their way to Normannenstrasse for questioning?

  *

  But no, Jäger – this time – was true to his word and escorted her to the lobby door at Strausberger Platz. Müller didn’t invite him in. There was, however, still something she needed from the Stasi colonel. Though now wasn’t the time to ask him. So, although it went against her better judgement, she held out her hand and thanked him.

  He nodded, but his expression remained grim as he made his way back to the car, the melted snow squelching underfoot on the pavement.

  *

  ‘Karin, Karin. My God, I’m so pleased you’re back,’ Emil pulled her into a tight hug and then Helga joined in, but Müller watched her grandmother wince as she did so. Müller pulled back and then examined Helga’s arm. The purple blotch surrounded by yellow was the size of a plum.

  ‘Scheisse, Helga, is that what they did to you?’ she asked.

  ‘Ach, it’s nothing. Emil’s had a look – nothing’s broken.’

  ‘What we don’t understand, Karin, is why?’ said Emil as he kept his hands on her shoulders. ‘Why did they do this to you?’

  Müller shook her head. ‘I don’t know. They didn’t give me a proper explanation. They said it was a branch of the Ministry for State Security exceeding its remit.’

  ‘Are there consequences for you, Liebling?’

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t think so. I haven’t been charged with anything. I was accompanied back to the Hauptstadt by senior police and Stasi officials. Unless told otherwise, I just get on with my job. Immediately.’

  Helga gasped. ‘Surely they can allow you some time off to recover? Where did they take you? It must have been awful.’

  Müller pinched her brow between her thumb and forefinger. Then she lifted her head and smiled. ‘I was in Bautzen. Just for one night. I was one of the lucky ones.’ Her cellmate, in the little conversation they’d had, had revealed she’d already been in Bautzen for two months . . . with no sign of being released, and no real knowledge of her alleged ‘crimes’. Only that some of her friends had been planning an escape attempt across the Anti-Fascist Protection Barrier, but the cellmate herself claimed she was not involved. She had no real reason to lie to Müller, except, of course, that Müller was a major in the People’s Police, although evidently – from her very presence in Bautzen – one whose career had, at least temporarily, hit rock bottom.

  ‘Where are Jannika and Johannes?’ asked Müller. ‘I’ve been so looking forward to seeing them.’

  ‘They’re at the crèche,’ said Emil. ‘We thought it best that life should carry on as normally as possible. Helga has been a rock.’

  ‘It’s the least I can do,’ said Müller’s grandmother. ‘Shall I go and get them back early so you can give them a kiss and a cuddle?’

  The thought was tempting for Müller. But she really did need to get back to work. If the Stasi had been trying to prevent her talking to Fenstermacher’s contact in the endocrinology department at Charité, then she had to redouble her efforts to find him and discover exactly what he knew about these sinister experiments.

  ‘I’ll see them this evening before bed, in time – I hope – for tea, and their bath.’

  ‘We could have a little party, perhaps?’ suggested Helga.

  ‘That sounds lovely,’ said Emil. ‘But I have to work this evening. I managed to get switched from my early shift to a late one so I could help Helga with the twins and take them to the crèche.’ He glanced down at his watch and frowned. ‘But I was just about to go in before you turned up. I’d better still do that, otherwise I’ll be for the high jump.’

  ‘Of course,’ said Müller. She leant in to give her boyfriend a kiss on the lips as he reached to get his coat. He paused, and pulled her in for a hug.

  ‘I’m sorry about this. Let’s arrange an outing with the children – and Helga too if she’d like – as soon as we can. It’s just things at work are a bit chaotic at the moment. We’ve got a couple of doctors and nurses off sick.’

  Müller knew she was as guilty as he was of not making time for their relationship. She’d thought her promotion, taking charge of the new unit, might end up as a poisoned chalice. She didn’t want that poison to seep into her family life. She’d already failed in one relationship – with Gottfried – and now there were the children to consider too. She had to make this work.

  42

  Müller’s attempts to arrange a meeting with the endocrinologist were again rebuffed by officials at Charité. She’d been given the runaround over the telephone so had turned up in person at the department, only to be told the same thing: the doctor was away and wouldn’t be back till the following Monday. However, they said he was aware of Müller’s need to speak to him and would make sure he was available then.

  When Müller had tried to talk to Tilsner at Keibelstrasse she got the same kind of stonewalling until, during their telephone briefing, Reiniger eventually revealed that her deputy had – temporarily – been assigned to other duties.

  ‘As soon as there’s a breakthrough in the current case you can have him back, Karin,’ Reiniger had said.

  ‘That’s all well and good, Comrade Oberst,’ replied a furious Müller. ‘But I won’t make a breakthrough if I don’t have a deputy or anyone to help. I’ll have to rely on the local People’s Police at Eisenhüttenstadt – and I believe they might be compromised by their links to the Bezirk Frankfurt Stasi regional unit.’

  ‘You still have Schmidt. I’ve kept him in Wilhelm-Pieck-Stadt Guben. It’ll keep his mind occupied while we search for his son.’

  ‘But you’ve just, in effect, scaled down the search for his son by taking Tilsner off the case.’

  ‘He’s not off the case, Karin, I told you. I’m just reallocating him temporarily because of a shortage of manpower elsewhere.’

  Müller found herself grinding her teeth as she listened. It was a habit normally confined to night-time dreams, much to Emil’s chagrin.

  ‘One useful thing you could do is go to see Schmidt’s wife. She could do with some womanly support. It’s coming up to Christmas – it must be terrible for her with her son missing and her husband away on a case.’

  Müller bit down on the tip of her tongue to try to stop herself saying something she would regret. The sentiment from Reiniger was perhaps admirable, but the chauvinistic way he phrased it – as though only another woman could give a desperate mother support – made Müller’s pulse pound in her head.

  She paused slightly to let her anger dissipate. ‘I can do that, of course. But I’m supposed to be the head of a new Serious Crimes Department. You’ve just taken away my deputy. My forensic scientist is working on half power because most of his energy’s spent worrying about his missing son. Are you sure you want me to carry on?’

  ‘I’m quite sure, Karin. Quite sure. But remember, one of the aims of the new unit was to ensure better liaison with the Stasi at a high level. You don’t seem to have got off to a very good start on that front. Perhaps you ought to arrange a meeting with your friend Jäger. See if there’s anything you can do to get back in their good books.’

  Müller sighed but said nothing. She was tempted to just hang up, but in the end let Reiniger cut the call. She was quickly beginning to lose respect for her police colonel. Perhaps Tilsner was correct after all. He’d always found the man pompous, ineffective. Müller had a better relationship with him, but was fast coming round to Tilsner’s point of view.

  *

  An atmosphere of sadness was evident everywhere in the Schmidt family apartment. The Christmas decorations loo
ked half-hearted, and although Müller was far from a stickler for housework, she noticed that what few there were – on the mantelpiece and the top of a bookshelf – seemed to have been put in place without being cleaned from the previous year. Wax residue from melted candles was still on the base of candlesticks that didn’t have candles in them, and the tiny Räuchermännchen were still covered in a film of dust.

  As soon as Hanne Schmidt had ushered Müller through the front door, she scurried into the kitchen, busying herself with making them both coffee – even though Müller had told her not to bother. It was as though she needed to be doing something constantly, to take her mind off Markus and the days, weeks and months that had gone by without tangible proof of his well-being.

  ‘Jonas isn’t here, I’m afraid, Major Müller,’ she called from the kitchen, above the clatter of utensils. ‘Though I suppose you must know that already.’ Her voice sounded forlorn.

  ‘I’m sorry about that, Hanne. It wasn’t my idea. Perhaps he should be here with you.’

  The woman popped her head round the living room doorway. She had her arms crossed over her chest, as though trying to give herself some comfort. ‘Oh no,’ she said. ‘I’d much rather he was trying to do something useful, and he tells me this case might help you to find Markus. Although, as I understand it, it’s a murd—’

  The woman stopped herself before she uttered the word – the word that linked her only son’s disappearance to a possible brutal death.

  She clasped her hand to her mouth, as though astonished by what she was about to say. ‘I . . . I’ll just get the coffee . . . sorry.’ She turned and ran back to the kitchen, but not before Müller saw the moisture gather in her already raw, bloodshot eyes.

  After a few minutes Hanne returned with the tray of coffee and sat down on an armchair, while Müller perched forward on the sofa. She tried to pour the coffee into the cups, but her hands were shaking so much she had to put the pot back down on the tray. Müller laid her hand gently on the woman’s arm, and then took over the pouring duties.