Maria's cell phone rings. She answers it, says something in German, then turns to McGrave.
"Excuse me," she says. "I need to take this."
She steps aside, out of earshot. But a breeze kicks up and McGrave's attention is suddenly drawn to something else a half block away.
He heads across the street, weaving through the traffic and across iron plates laid over trenches cut into the asphalt, and on past several storefronts, until he reaches a gallery with a large, banner draped across the top four floors. He'd caught a glimpse of it fluttering in the breeze.
The banner is in German, but it depicts glassware and ceramics, including the item that attracted McGrave-a pot that looks just like the one destroyed in the shoot-out in Ernie Wallengren's house.
Maria marches up to him. She seems angry. "Looking for some souvenirs?"
"Tell me what the banner says."
"It's advertising an auction of rare Egyptian antiquities. The auction is tomorrow, but you're going to be-"
"On a plane back to Los Angeles with Richter handcuffed beside me," McGrave says, interrupting her and pointing at the banner. "Because that son of a bitch is going to try to steal Nefertiti's toilet tonight and I'm going to be there to catch him."
####
Torsten "Duke" Schneider and Maria stand side by side in front of a full house of detectives, briefing them in English, out of deference to McGrave, on the operation that they've hurriedly put into motion.
On the wall behind Torsten and Maria is a street map of Mitte as well as photographs of the interior and exterior of the auction house, schematic diagrams of sewers, and other blueprints.
"We believe that Richter and his new team will strike the auction house tonight and use the World War Two-era tunnels beneath Wilhelmstrasse to do it," Maria says. "The construction work in the area provided the perfect cover for him to access the tunnels and dig his way beneath the auction house without raising any suspicion."
Torsten uses a pointer to indicate spots on the street map.
"Two-man surveillance teams will be placed here, here, and here," he says, pointing to buildings facing the front and rear of the auction house. "We've also placed fiber-optic cameras into the tunnels and will monitor them in our mobile command unit, which will be parked here." He points to the lot where Maria and McGrave stood earlier. "Our strike unit will be stationed in an empty, unoccupied storefront around the corner from the auction house. They will move in on my signal. I want everyone in place within the hour. You each have your assignments. Let's get moving."
The detectives disperse. Torsten and Maria approach McGrave, who is sitting at Maria's desk.
Torsten helps himself to a frosted chocolate doughnut with chocolate sprinkles from the box on Heinrich's desk.
"These doughnuts really energize your thinking," Torsten says. "I can see why they are so popular among law enforcement officers in the U.S. This is my third one today."
"I didn't get an assignment," McGrave says.
"You'll be observing from the command post."
McGrave shakes his head. "I don't observe, Duke, I act. I need to lead the strike team."
"I'm afraid I can't allow it," Torsten says. "You don't have any jurisdiction and you can't carry a weapon."
"This is all the jurisdiction I need," McGrave holds up his badge. "And I'm a weapon."
Maria groans.
Torsten beams. "Say it again."
"What?" McGrave says.
"'I'm a weapon.' It's so… so…"
"John Wayne," Maria says.
"Exactly!" Torsten says.
"So I can be on the team?"
"Absolutely not," Torsten says. "But you will be welcome in the trailer. I'll even provide doughnuts. You're with Kommissar Vogt until then."
Her cell phone rings. She glances at the caller ID. It's Erich's school.
Like much of the architecture of the GDR era, the Oberschule looks like a concrete shoe box that's been spray painted with graffiti.
School has been dismissed and there are only a few kids hanging around.
Maria and McGrave emerge from the Passat to find Erich sitting on a concrete bench out front. Erich is sitting with a man who is roughly McGrave's height and build, but that's where the similarities end.
You look at him and see a guy who reads avant-garde novels, not because he likes them, but so he can say he reads avant-garde novels. You look at him and you see a closet full of sweaters and scarves, because he lives in a perpetual winter, needs to be swaddled all the time, and likes having clothes to shed at coffeehouses, where he spends more time than in his own home. You look at him and see a lover who gets tears in his eyes when he makes love because otherwise it would be fucking and because no matter how many times he does it, he's always afraid it will never happen again.
"This is my ex-husband, Karl," Maria says, then gestures to McGrave. "This is John McGrave, a detective from America."
"Isn't that my shirt?" Karl says.
Maria ignores him and turns to Erich. "What happened? All they told me was that you were in a fight with another boy."
Karl speaks up before his son can. "It was a shocking act of violence and depravity."
McGrave glances at Erich. There isn't a scratch or bruise on him. "He looks like he came out okay."
"He's been expelled for a week," Karl says. "That is hardly 'okay.'"
McGrave nods. "What's Axel look like?"
Erich breaks into a big, proud grin, but before he can speak, Karl answers for him again. "Erich broke the boy's arm."
Maria gasps.
McGrave smiles, which is all the encouragement Erich needs.
"It was great," Erich says in an excited rush, eager to share the experience. "He swung at me and I took him completely by surprise, just like you showed me."
Karl glowers at Maria. "Congratulations, you've turned our son into a sociopath."
Maria isn't any happier about this than Karl is. She turns to McGrave and crosses her arms under her chest, mostly so she won't be tempted to hit him.