•
We’ve got legs, we’ve got teeth, we’ve got eyes, we’ve got arms, so just someone try and bite us, bite Franz, let him just try. He’s got two arms and two legs, he’s got muscles, he can chop everything into kindling. If you know Franz, he’s no weakling. Whatever we have behind us, whatever lies ahead of us, we’ll have someone along the way, we’ll lift a glass to that, no two, no nine.
We have no legs, o woe, we have no teeth, we have no eyes, we have no arms, anyone can turn up to bite Franz, he is a weakling, he’s incapable of sticking up for himself, all he does is drink.
•
‘I’ll do something, Herbert, I can’t stand to watch it.’ ‘What will you do, girl?’ ‘I can’t stand to watch it, the man doesn’t get it, he sits there and tells hisself, she’ll be back, she’ll be back, while I’m scanning the papers every day and there’s never anything about her. Did you hear anything?’ ‘Nope.’ ‘Couldn’t you listen out, in case someone’s happened to hear summink.’ ‘It’s all nonsense, Eva, everything you say is nonsense. The mystery isn’t a mystery at all. What’s happened? The girl’s gone. So why do yourself in about it. Find another one.’ ‘Is that what you’d say if it was me?’ ‘Now hang on, Eva. I’m talking about those sort of girls.’ ‘That’s where you’re wrong. I introduced them to each other, I’ve been round the morgue to look, mark my words, Herbert, something’s happened. There’s something awfully wrong with Franz, Herbert. Something’s up. Haven’t you heard anything at all?’ ‘I dunno what you mean.’ ‘Well, sometimes somebody says something, in the group. Has anyone seen her? She can’t have just disappeared. I tell you, if she doesn’t turn up soon, I’ll go to the police.’ ‘As if! I can just see you doing that.’ ‘Don’t laugh, I’m serious. I have to find her, Herbert, something’s happened, she hasn’t just disappeared by herself, she wouldn’t leave me like that, and she wouldn’t leave Franz like that either. And he doesn’t get it.’ ‘I don’t want to hear any more about it, it’s all crap, and now we’re going to the cinema, Eva.’
•
In the cinema they see a film.
When in the third act the hero is apparently mown down by a bandit, Eva gives a sigh. And out of the corner of his eye Herbert sees her slip down off her seat and pass out. Afterwards they walk silently arm in arm through the streets. Herbert is astounded: ‘Your fancy man isn’t going to like it if you’re like this.’ ‘He shot him, didn’t you see, Herbert?’ ‘That was just a trick, he didn’t really, you missed it when they set it up. And you’re still shaking.’ ‘You’ve got to do something, Herbert, it can’t go on this way.’ ‘You’re supposed to be going abroad, tell your gentleman you’re ill.’ ‘No, I mean do something. Do something, Herbert. You helped Franz when he lost his arm, you need to do something for him again now. Please!’ ‘I can’t, Eva. What am I supposed to do?’ She cries. He has to sit her down in the car.
•
Franz doesn’t have to beg, Eva helps him out, he’s on the Pums payroll, something is being lined up for the end of September. At the end of September the plumber Matter returns. He was abroad, on some plumbing job or something. When he sees Franz he says it was to recuperate, something with his lungs. He looks terrible, and not at all recuperated. Franz says Mitzi’s gone, did he remember her; but he’s not to tell anyone about it, there are vindictive people who just laugh when they hear about someone’s bird walking out on them. ‘So not a squeak to Reinhold, we used to share women in the past sometimes, he would laugh himself silly if he got wind of something like that. Besides,’ Franz smiles, ‘I haven’t got around to replacing her yet.’ He looks sad about the mouth, across the forehead. But then he throws his head back and presses his lips together.
There’s a lot going on in the city. Tunney has successfully defended his title, but the Yanks aren’t too pleased, he’s not very popular there. In the seventh he took a count of nine. Then it was Dempsey’s turn to wobble. Turned out, that was his last big punch, and it was all over by 4.58 a.m., 23 September 1928. You can read all about it, and the flight record from Cologne to Leipzig, and then there’s supposed to be an economic war between oranges and bananas. But that’s in the inside pages.
How does a plant protect itself against the cold? There are many species that are quite defenceless, even against a slight frost. Others have something in their chemistry that allows them to look after themselves. The most significant is the conversion of starch to sugar. Not all food crops benefit by this process – e.g. the increased sweetness in frost-affected potatoes. But there are other instances where it takes the heightened sugar content of a plant or fruit through refrigeration to make said plant or fruit palatable, as in the case of wild fruits. If such fruits are left on the bough until the first frost, they will make so much sugar that their taste is transformed and greatly improved. Rose-hips are an example here.
Does it matter that a couple of Berlin kayakers were drowned in the Danube, or that Nungesser crashed off the Irish coast in his White Bird. They cry the headlines out on the street, you buy the paper for 10 pfennigs, throw it away somewhere. They tried to lynch the Hungarian Prime Minister because he ran over a farmlad in his car. If they had succeeded, the headline would have read: ‘Hungarian Prime Minister lynched outside Kaposvar’, and there would have been a great hoo-ha about it, a few cultivated people would have read ‘Lunched’ and just laughed, the other 80 per cent would have said: too bad, or what do I care, pity it didn’t happen here.
People like to laugh in Berlin. At Dobrin’s, on the corner of Kaiser-Wilhelm-Strasse, there are three people sitting at a table, a fat lump, a merry grig and his bird, if only she didn’t screech like that when she laughed, and then another fellow, a kind of nonentity, he’s the fat guy’s friend, who is paid for, his job is to listen to the fat guy and laugh at his jokes. The chubby tart snogs her loudmouth every five minutes and croons: ‘Ooh, whatever will he come up with next!’ Then he will nibble her neck, which takes up another two minutes. She doesn’t care what the other guy thinks, watching them. The loudmouth is saying: ‘So she says to him, she says: what was that thing you did to me just now? What was that thing you did just now? The third thing I could say would be boom-boom.’ The third man smirks: ‘You really are a hard-boiled piece of work.’ The loudmouth, with delight: ‘Not so hard-boiled as you are a twerp.’ They sip their soup, next story.
‘An angler walks up to a lake, and there’s a girl sitting there, and he says, “Well, Fräulein Fischer, what about you and me going fishing together?” She says, “Me name’s not Fischer, it’s Fokker.” “So much the better.” ’ The three of them roar with laughter. The fat man explains: ‘Because today we happen to have soupe du jour.’ The bint: ‘What will the man come up with next!’
‘All right, all right, what about this one? A woman says: “Tell me, do you know what a propos means?” “A propos, that means, while we’re on the subject.” “You see,” she says, “I knew it was filthy. Kchch!” ’ It’s very nice and cosy, the little lady needs to step out six times to powder her nose. ‘Then the hen says to the cock, oh when will it be my turn. Waiter, bill please, that’s three cognacs, two bread and cheese, three bouillons with three rubber soles.’ ‘Rubber soles, that were zwieback.’ ‘Well, you say zwieback, I say rubber soles. Haven’t you got any change? There’s a wee one at home, and when I go out, I like to leave him ten pfennigs to suck on. Right, that’s it. Come along, honey. Comedy hour’s over, time to go home.’
A few girls and women cross Alexanderplatz and Alexander-strasse with a foetus on board, which is protected by law. And while the women and girls are sweating because of the heat, the foetus is sitting quietly in his temperature-controlled womb-room, he walks over the Alexanderplatz, but there’s trouble in store for some foetuses, and it wouldn’t do to laugh too readily.
Then there are others wandering around stealing anything they can lay their hands on, some have got their guts full, others are thinking how they might achieve such a state of affair
s. Hahn’s department store is on the skids, but all the other firms are doing good business, though it just looks as if they are businesses, in actual fact they are calls, halloos, twitterings, crick crack, a twittering without a forest.
•
So I returned, and considered all the oppressions that are done under the sun: and behold the tears of such as were oppressed, and they had no comforter; and on the side of their oppressors there was power; but they had no comforter. Wherefore I praised the dead which are already dead more than the living which are yet alive.
I praised the dead. Each in his season, to rend, and a time to sew, a time to keep, and a time to cast away. I praised the dead who lay under trees, sleeping.
•
And once more Eva starts in: ‘Franz, won’t you do something at last? Three weeks are up, you know, imagine if you were mine, and you didn’t care.’ ‘There’s no one I can talk to about it, Eva, you know that, I can talk to you and Herbert and the plumber, but that’s all. I can’t tell anyone, they’d all laugh in my face. And I can’t go to the police. If you don’t want to give me any more money, Eva, then that’s fine. I – I’ll go to work again.’ ‘I don’t understand how you’re so unmoved, I never seen you cry – I feel like giving you a good shaking, but that wouldn’t change anything.’ ‘I can’t help you.’
A few bonds are loosened, the criminals fall out among themselves
Early October time there’s the internal dispute within the firm that Pums was dreading. It’s about money. As ever, Pums takes the resale of goods for the principal concern of a criminal outfit, whereas to Reinhold and the others, Franz included, it’s their acquisition. It’s the acquisition, not the resale value, that should determine the distribution of rewards, Pums’s cut is quite disproportionate, the man is taking advantage of his monopoly in relation to the fences, the better fences won’t do business with anyone but Pums. The gang can see that, even though Pums has relented a bit and offered various concessions, something still needs to be done. They tend to favour a more co-operative arrangement. To which he says: that’s what we’ve got. But the point is they don’t think so.
There is the break-in on Stralauer Strasse. Even though Pums no longer plays an active part in jobs, he goes along this time. It’s a bandage factory in a back building on Stralauer Strasse. They’ve managed to ascertain that there’s money in the office safe. It’s partly intended as a blow against Pums: no more dodgy goods, just straight cash. No question of a swindle when they divvy up the money. Which is also what moved Pums to participate. They climb up the fire escape in twos, and calmly unscrew the lock on the office door. Then the plumber gets to work. They break open all the office storage facilities, there’s nothing beyond a few marks, stamps, a couple of petrol canisters in the corridor, they’ll come in. So they have to wait while Karlchen the plumber gets to work. Then, wouldn’t you know it, he burns his hand so badly while he’s messing about with the safe that he can’t go on. Reinhold has a shot at it, but he’s had no practice, Pums takes the oxy-acetylene torch from him, but he can’t do it either. Things are getting tense. They need to knock off, the security guard will be along any minute.
In their rage they take the petrol canisters, empty them over the furniture, including the wretched safe, and chuck in matches. Won’t Pums just crow, but they’ve had enough. So someone’s a bit previous with the matches and Pums gets a little bit singed, big deal! What’s he doing there anyway. His back is scorched, they run down the stairs, wave: ‘Guard’, Pums just barely makes it into the car. He’ll have learnt his lesson, you would think. But what are they going to do for money.
Pums can laugh. Goods always were the better option. You need to be a specialist. Do something. Pums is denounced as an exploiter, a cheat. But you can’t be sure, overdo things with him and he’ll take his connections and start a new firm. In the sports club on Thursday he will say, I did my best for you, I can show you written accounts if you like, that’s just it, you can’t prove anything against the man, and if we don’t want in, then the club will say it’s none of our doing, you baled, the man does his best, and if he does slightly better out of it than you guys, don’t get sore, you’ve still got your girls on the game while he’s got his old lady and fuck all. So they decide to persevere with him, the lousy exploiter and entrepreneur.
It’s the plumber who cops their full rage. We can’t use a bungler like that. He’s burnt his hand, is trying to heal it, has always done good work so far, and now all he hears is gripes.
Listen to them, he thinks, scowling. I was cheated out of my business when I still had one; I have a tipple and my wife yells at me, and then it’s New Year’s Eve, and I come home, and who’s not there. The bitch. Gets in at seven in the morning, slept with some fellow, cheated on me. So there’s me with no trade and no missus. And little Mitzi and that bugger Reinhold. She was mine, she didn’t want him, it was me she went with to the party, driving down the avenue, she wrote the book about kissing, and then he took her off me because I’m just a poor scab. And that fucker, he did her in, he’s a killer, because she wanted no part of him, and now he’s throwing his weight around, and I burnt my hand, and I even helped him carry the body. He’s a big villain, a proper killer. And I was supposed to take the whole thing on myself, for a wretch like that. What kind of eejit am I.
Keep your eyes on Karl the plumber: something’s going on with him
Karl the plumber is looking for someone to confide in. He’s in the Alexander-Quelle opposite Tietz’s, a couple of borstal boys with him, and then a mystery man, you can’t say what it is he does, he’s in various trades, what he studied back in the day was wheelwright. He’s a classy draughtsman all right, they’re sitting round the table together tucking into frankfurters, and the young wheelwright is drawing all kinds of saucy pictures, men and girls and Christ knows what all else. The welfare boys are having a time of it, and Karl moves in and takes a dekko and thinks: he’s a good draughtsman all right. The three of them can’t stop laughing, the two welfare boys are exhilarated because they’ve just come from Rückerstrasse, and there was a raid, and they managed to get out round the back. And at that moment Karl the plumber goes up to the bar.
Just then two fellows are slowly making their way through the joint, looking left and right, talking to a man who pulls out his papers, and they take a look at them, say a word or two, and suddenly the two men are standing at their table, they’re surprised all right but they don’t let on, they don’t say anything. They keep talking calmly away, of course the two are cops, they’re the ones from the Rückerdiele, they’ve seen us. And the wheelwright goes on making his filthy drawings, and one of the policemen whispers in his shell-like: ‘Police’, peels back his lapel to show the badge on his weskit. His partner in crime does the same thing with the two boys. Who’ve got no papers, while mystery wheelwright has got a doctor’s certificate and a letter from some girl, and all three of them are to report to the station on Kaiser-Wilhelm-Strasse. The boys say right out what’s on their minds, but to their astonishment the police say they never saw them in Rückerstrasse, it was pure coincidence that they ran into them later in the Alexander-Quelle. Well, then we shouldn’t have volunteered that we skipped out, and all of them laugh. The policeman pats them on the back: ‘Well, the warden will be all the more pleased to have you back.’ ‘Oh, him, he’s on holiday.’ The wheelwright is standing in the office with the constables, he can talk his way out, his address is correct, just he’s got such soft hands for a wheelwright, one of the cops can’t get his head around that, he keeps turning them over and over, but I’ve been out of work for the past year, shall I tell you what I think, I think you’re a nance, I don’t even know what that is, a queer.
An hour later he’s back in the bar. Karl the plumber is still there, the wheelwright runs up to him.
‘What do you do for a living?’ It’s twelve o’clock as Karl asks the question. ‘What do you do?’ ‘I take what comes.’ ‘Are you afraid to tell me?’ ‘Well,
you’re no wheelwright neither.’ ‘I’m as much a wheelwright as you are a plumber.’ ‘You never. Look at my hand, the burns on that, that was from doing electrical work.’ ‘Some shady business, more like.’ ‘Shady business! Wasn’t good for anything, I’ll tell you that much.’ ‘Who d’you work for then?’ ‘Little villain, asking the questions.’ Karl asks the wheelwright: ‘Whose outfit are you in?’ ‘Schönhauser local.’ ‘Oh yeah, the bowls club.’ ‘So you’ve heard of us.’ ‘Why wouldn’t I have heard of the bowls club? Try asking there if they know about me, plumber Karl, and is Paule the mason not with you as well.’ ‘Oh sure, he’s a mate of mine.’ ‘We were together in Brandenburg back in the day.’ ‘Well. Listen, then maybe you’ll loan me five marks, I’m skint, my landlady will throw me out, and I won’t go in the August shelter, there’s always trouble there.’ ‘Five marks, all right. But no more ‘n’at.’ ‘Ta. Well, maybe talk about business?’
The wheelwright is a windbag, sometimes it’s women, sometimes it’s boys. When he’s in a fix, he borrows or steals. He, the plumber, and someone else from the Schönhauser group go freelance, and pull a couple of quick jobs. Someone in the wheelwright’s mob tips them the wink about where to go. First off, they get a hold of some motorbikes, which gives them some mobility and access to the countryside. That way they’re not dependent on Berlin, in case there’s something worth having in the environs.