Garden of Beasts

where all the senior officials will be appearing in public. He then decides if it is important to have a filming crew or a photographer present to record the event.” He gave a sour laugh. “You go to see, say, Mutiny on the Bounty, and you don’t even get a Mickey Mouse cartoon until twenty minutesof tedious reels of Hitler coddling babies and Göring parading in his ridiculous uniforms before a thousand Labor Service workers.”
    “And Ernst will be on that list?”
    “That’s what I’m hoping. I hear the colonel doesn’t have much patience for propaganda, and he detests Goebbels as much as Göring, but he has learned to play the game. One does not succeed in the government in this day and age without playing the game.”
    As they approached the Edelweiss Café, Paul noticed a cheap black car sitting on the curb beside the statue of Hitler, in front of the restaurant. Detroit still seemed to have one up on the German auto industry. While he’d seen some beautiful Mercedes and BMW models, most of the cars in Berlin were like this one, boxy and battered. When he returned to the United States, and had the ten G’s, he’d get the car of his dreams, a shiny black Lincoln. Marion would look swell in a car like that.
    Paul was suddenly very thirsty. He decided he’d get a table while Morgan made his call. The café seemed to specialize in pastry and coffee but on a hot day like this, those had no appeal to him. Nope, he decided; he’d continue his education in the fine art of German beer making.

Chapter Fourteen
    Sitting at a rickety table at the Eidelweiss Café, Willi Kohl finished his strudel and coffee. Much better, he thought. His hands had actually been shaking from the hunger. It wasn’t healthy to go without food for so long.
    Neither the manager nor anyone else had seen a man fitting the suspect’s description. But Kohl hoped someone in this unfortunate area had seen the victim from the Dresden Alley shooting. “Janssen, do you have the pictures of our poor, dead man?”
    “In the DKW, sir.”
    “Well, fetch them.”
    “Yes, sir.”
    The young man finished his Coca-Cola and walked to the car.
    Kohl followed him out the door, absently tapping the pistol in his pocket. He wiped his brow and looked up the street to his right toward the sound of yet another siren. He heard the DKW door slam and he turned back, glancing toward Janssen. As he did, the inspector noticed a fast movement just beyond his assistant, to Kohl’s left.
    It appeared that a man in a dark suit, carrying a fiberboard musical instrument case or suitcase, had turned and stepped quickly into the courtyard of a large, decrepit apartment building next door to the Edelweiss Café. There was something unnatural about the abruptness withwhich the man had veered off the sidewalk. It struck him as somewhat odd as well that a man in a suit would be going into such a shabby place.
    “Janssen,” Kohl called, “did you see that?”
    “What?”
    “That man going into the courtyard?”
    The young officer shrugged. “Not clearly. I just saw some men on the sidewalk. Out of the corner of my eye.”
    “Men?”
    “Two, I believe.”
    Kohl’s instincts took over. “We must look into this!”
    The apartment building was attached to the structure on the right and, looking down the alley, the inspector could see that there were no side doors. “There’ll be a service entrance in the back, like at the Summer Garden. Cover it again. I’ll go through the front. Assume that both men are armed and desperate. Keep your pistol in your hand. Now run! You can beat them if you hurry.”
    The inspector candidate sprinted down the alley. Kohl too armed himself. He slowly approached the courtyard.
    •   •   •
    Trapped.
    Just like at Malone’s apartment.
    Paul and Reggie Morgan stood, panting from the brief sprint, in a gloomy courtyard, filled with trash and a dozen browning juniper bushes. Two teenage boys in dusty clothes tossed rocks at pigeons.
    “Not the same police?” gasped Morgan. “From the Summer Garden? Impossible.”
    “The same.” Paul wasn’t sure they’d been spotted, but the younger officer, in the green suit, had glanced their way just as Paul had pulled Morgan into the courtyard. They had to assume they’d been seen.
    “How did they find us?”
    Paul ignored the question, looking around him. He ran to the wooden entrance door in the center of the U of the building; it was closed and locked. The first-floor