A Man Without Breath

‘My name is Bernhard Gunther and I haven’t talked to anyone I wanted to talk to for almost three weeks. That is until you got off that plane. It now seems to me I’ve been waiting for you to show up or the world to end. For a while back there I really didn’t mind which, but now that you’re here I have this sudden inexplicable urge to keep going a while longer. Maybe even long enough to make you laugh – if that doesn’t sound presumptuous.’

‘Make me laugh? In my line of work, that’s not so easy to do, Herr Gunther. Most men give up when they get a nose of my usual brand of perfume.’

‘And what might that be, doctor? Just in case I’m passing a branch of Wertheims.’

‘Formaldehyde number one.’

‘My favourite.’ I shrugged. ‘No really. I used to be a homicide cop at the police praesidium on Berlin Alexanderplatz.’

‘That explains your strange taste in perfume. So what are you doing in Katyn Wood? From what I hear, this isn’t exactly a whodunit. Everyone in Europe knows who the killer is.’

‘Right now I’m walking a tightrope between the Bureau of War Crimes and the Ministry of Enlightenment. What’s more, I’m working without a net.’

‘Sounds like quite an act.’

‘It is. I’m supposed to make sure that everything here goes smoothly. Like a real police investigation. Of course, it doesn’t. But then, that’s Russia for you. A man who is afraid of failure should never come to Russia. It’s just as well that they tried to make Bolshevism work here or we’d really be in trouble.’

‘That’s an interesting way of looking at it.’

‘I’ve got a lot of interesting ways of looking at all sorts of things. You got anything special to do tonight?’

‘I was hoping for some dinner. I’m starving.’

‘Dinner’s at seven-thirty. And there’s a good chef. From Berlin.’

‘After that I was hoping you might show me the cathedral.’

‘It’d be my pleasure.’

‘Cathedrals always look their best at night. Especially in Russia.’

‘You sound like you’ve been in Russia before, Dr Kramsta.’

‘My father was a diplomat. As a child I lived in many interesting places: Madrid, Warsaw and Moscow.’

‘And which of them did you like the best?’

‘Madrid. But for the civil war, I’d probably be living there now.’

‘I’d have thought there were plenty of opportunities for a good doctor after a civil war.’

‘It will take more than a box of Traumaplast to fix that country, Herr Gunther. Besides, who ever said I was a good doctor? My bedside manner was always lacking, to say the least. I was never any good with patients. I haven’t got the patience for all their aches and pains and imaginary ills. I much prefer working with the dead. The dead never complain about your lack of compassion, or that you’re not giving them the right medicine.’

‘Then you should fit right in here in Smolensk. We estimate there are as many as four thousand bodies buried in Katyn Wood.’

‘Yes, I heard the announcement on Radio Berlin, on Tuesday night. Only they seemed to suggest it was more like twelve thousand.’

I smiled. ‘Well, you know how Radio Berlin is with facts and figures.’

At group HQ in Krasny Bor I took Dr Kramsta to her quarters, carried the luggage through the door, and handed her a crude little map of the compound.

‘That’s my hut over there, in case you need me for anything,’ I told her. ‘Right now I’m going over to the site. That’s where Professor Buhtz is nearly always to be found these days. But if you like I can wait fifteen minutes and then you can come with me. Otherwise I’ll see you at dinner.’

‘No, I’ll come with you,’ she said. ‘I’m anxious to get started.’

When I returned she had changed into white trousers, a white turban, a white coat and black boots; she looked like the Sarotti chocolate Moor, but on her that was still becoming as hell: I always did have a soft spot for women in white coats. I drove back to the wood and parked the Tatra. Straightaway she took out her handkerchief, sprinkled some Carat perfume onto it and held it to her nose and mouth.

‘You really have been down here for a while, haven’t you?’ she said.

‘I was sorry to hear about Hindenburg.’

‘Gnezdovo,’ she said as we walked up the slope to the edge of grave number one. ‘That means Goat’s Hill, doesn’t it?’

‘Yes, but you won’t see any goats around here. There are wolves in these woods. And before you say it, I don’t mean me. Real ones.’

‘You’re just saying that to scare me.’

‘Believe me, doctor, there are many scarier things around here than a few wolves.’

Near the top of the slope we came in sight of the recently constructed wooden shed. Several dozen corpses were laid out, and with the help of Lieutenant Sloventzik’s translating, Buhtz was talking to a group of lean, grim-faced civilians who were the members of the Polish Red Cross.

Voss came over as soon as he saw me. I introduced him to Dr Kramsta, who quickly excused herself and went to join Professor Buhtz.

‘Is she the new pathologist Buhtz has been expecting?’

‘Mm hmm.’

‘Then I think I just decided to leave my body to science.’

‘Well, don’t die yet. I need you here in Smolensk.’