Читать книгу The Grand Dark онлайн | страница 71

Largo gave the Sergeant a tentative smile. “It was a joke, sir. I was nervous.”

“Nervous?” said Tanz. “About what? Because you knew you’d been caught with a fellow conspirator?”

This was everything he feared, everything he’d been taught to avoid growing up in the Green. He tried to relax and keep his voice steady.

“No. I’ve just received a promotion and now I’m going to be late.”

“Who would give a fool like you a job?” the Sergeant said.

“Besides spreading sedition,” said Tanz, “what is it you do?”

“I’m a courier, sir. I deliver documents and packages.”

Tanz gave him a look as he rolled up the poster. “What a fine way to distribute propaganda. What’s your supervisor’s name?”

“Herr Branca.”

“His full name,” said the Sergeant.

“That’s all I know.”

The Sergeant made a disgusted sound and spit into the bloody street.

“Didn’t we arrest a Branca the other day?” said Tanz. “He was making bombs in his mother’s attic. The poor woman had no idea she was harboring a madman.”

Largo looked from one man to the other. He knew that no matter what he said, the police would find a way to turn it against him.

“That couldn’t be Herr Branca,” said Largo. “He’s an upstanding supervisor at the company.”

“What’s the company’s name?” said Tanz.

Largo told them. As soon as he said it the officers looked at each other.

“The Nachtvogel,” said the Sergeant.

“Yes. They have their eyes on your place of work,” said Tanz.

“I swear to you, sirs, I’ve done nothing wrong.”

The Sergeant grabbed him and roughly patted him down. He reached into an inner pocket of Largo’s coat and took out a small bottle. “What’s this?” he said.

“Medicine,” said Largo. “A doctor gave it to me.”

Tanz unscrewed the top of the bottle and smelled the contents. “What’s the doctor’s name?”

Largo’s throat went dry. He wished Rainer were there to tell him what to say. He’d been in the army. He knew how to deal with bullocks.

“That’s what I thought,” said Tanz. “What should we do with him?”

The Sergeant rapped the truncheon against his hand. “An anarchist and a drug addict? At headquarters they’d feed him to the dogs.”