The Tower: A Novel (29 page)

‘A Japanese haiku. “Oh, this sultry heat! / The spiders’ webs hanging hot / on the summer trees.” The poet was called Onitsura, he lived in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries.’

‘Aha. Don’t you think it’s terribly hot in here? But that’s what I can’t get out of my mind: the hot spiders’ webs. You’ll have to forgive me if I couldn’t concentrate properly on the rest of your talk, it was going round and round in my head all the time. You get taken in by this Mr, what did you say? – Mr Onitsura. You believe in his hot spiders’ webs. Until you realize that it’s only a body that can get hot. But a spider’s web doesn’t have one, so it can’t get hot! … And yet you trust the fellow, somehow the line makes sense and that irritates me. Oh, I think the Baron would like to talk to you. In the meantime should I … act on your behalf?’ Malthakus looked round quickly and pulled the corner of a plastic bag out of his pocket. ‘We have the same way home as far as Wolfsleite – then the hand-over of the goods in
question.’ Meno had to laugh at the stamp dealer’s innocent blue-eyed look, the words whispered behind his hand.

‘Well, Rohde, my friend, have you thought over my offer? Your boss would have no objection.’

‘I need a little time, Herr von Arbogast.’

Schiffner raised his champagne glass and drank to Meno. ‘We also have to have a talk about the Association conference, my son. The regional office has already been on the line asking where our response to the meeting on the election report is. And there’s some work coming your way soon. From our talented up-and-coming young writer.’ Schiffner nodded in the direction of Judith Schevola. Arbogast and he exchanged glances, grinned. Sperber and Altberg came to join them. ‘She wants to publish a book with us. Have a look some time. I mean at the book.’ Arbogast, Sperber and Schiffner began to laugh. ‘And just you be careful, my son, talent can be infectious.’ The three of them laughed even louder.

‘My God, Knabe’s shooting her mouth off again. How can you stand her, Ludwig, her and her feminist twaddle?’ Sperber rocked up and down on his toes and looked across at the dentist, who, gesturing all the time and rolling her eyes, was arguing with Däne, Jochen Londoner and Kittwitz.

Her husband was standing there, disconsolately holding the stalk which was all that was left of the pineapple. ‘That limp-dick Knabe really ought to give his old woman one for once.’

‘D’you think that’s what she needs?’ Schiffner stuck his hands in his pockets and began to rock on his toes as well.’

‘No, she swings the other way. She does it with that Julie from the riding school, that’s why they don’t have any children.’

‘The woman who lives on Rissleite, where Heckmann, the carter, used to have his business?’

‘The very one! She once gave one of my physicists a good thrashing because he’d had the audacity to pick a cherry that was hanging over
the fence of her property.’ Arbogast tapped his walking stick, rocked on heel and toe. ‘Pity about Knabe, really. Tall woman, splendid hips … Junoesque. Or what do you say, Heinz? You’re the specialist here.’

Schiffner stroked his face, his habitual gesture for introducing a joke. ‘Dear ladies, if you only knew how gladly we see you among us and that it is our greatest pleasure to dwell in your midst …’ The three of them giggled, Meno turned away. The Old Man of the Mountain drew him aside. ‘Let’s have a drink, Herr Rohde. What is it to be?’

Meno shook his head.

‘Oh, come on, Rohde. It’s terribly hot in here … That power cut just now, during your talk, perhaps it has something to do with that … But in here’ – Altberg placed his hand on his chest – ‘it’s freezing. And that brandy warms you up, I can recommend it. VSOP – yes, in that respect he really does splash out.’ Altberg poured three glasses, held one out to Meno, downed the other two as if they were water, filled them again. ‘You beware of Arbogast. – Come on, let’s walk up and down, Sperber and Dietzsch are watching us … I think he’s a spy.’

‘Dietzsch?’

‘Sculptors can write reports too. Especially when they’re short of money – and of the success other sculptors enjoy … And this bottle’s coming with us, this warming, coppery liquor, it’ll be a corpse by the time we’ve finished, we mustn’t let something as good as this go to waste. – I had it from Malthakus and he heard it from Marroquin …’ Altberg emptied the fourth glass, gave Meno a horrified glance, suddenly started to breathe heavily. ‘You think that’s just rumour and conjecture? Do you know what? You’d be right! You’d be absolutely right! Pure supposition, that’s all … the imagination of a man whose business is literature has run away with him. I’ve spoken to Schiffner again, he actually does reject the book …’

‘Don’t you feel well? Would you like to sit down? Or get some fresh air?’

‘No, no, I’m all right, Rohde. Thank you for your letter. One has
to be a bit careful with you … Do you know something? There’s no harm in a bit of gossip. After all, we make a living from that delightful fare.’

‘Please forgive me, Herr Altberg, I didn’t mean to, er, tread on your toes –’

‘That’s the problem! No one wants to tread on anyone’s toes, everyone’s polite and quiet and keeps their distance. I’ll make a start, for I have to admit … I love gossip.’ He took a sip and laughed. ‘Don’t use that against me if I should … well, crop up among your lot. As an old brandy spider, for example, heheh.’

Meno felt uncomfortable and yet he listened in fascination to the stories the old man recounted with relish – without appearing to be drunk; Meno had noticed his slight swaying before, during his visit to him at 8 Oktoberweg, it could just as well be ascribed to weakness or tiredness. Against his will he was gripped by the old man’s halting and disjointed delivery, soaked up his words with a craving previously unknown in himself, at least not in this connection, and it surprised him; he really ought to have withdrawn at once with some polite but empty phrase. Was Herr Rohde aware that Judith Schevola had had affairs with several of those present? She’d already been married four times – and was only thirty-five! She literally hunted men down, which didn’t necessarily do them any good. She must have had some bad experiences. ‘Do you know what her first husband said when he found her after she’d attempted suicide? – “Oh, then I’ll soon get my collection of prints back.” There was blood everywhere, the bathtub was full of it –’

‘Now then, Georg, talking scandal again?’ Teerwagen, the low-voltage physicist in his mid-fifties with heavy horn-rimmed spectacles and an imposing belly, over which a watch chain stretched, took a sip of a glass of red wine, his other hand casually stuck in the pocket of his elegant suit. ‘Are you coming along afterwards as well, Herr Rohde? – To look at the stars. From midnight onwards. It’s fairly clear
tonight and astronomy is one of the main points of our social evenings. Arbogast will have the large observatory opened. We won’t, however, he able to see the Spider constellation. If you’d been here on 15 December you’d have been able to observe a relatively rare spectacle: an eclipse of the sun.’

‘Oh, come on, Heiner, it was only a half-eclipse. What we deserve, heheh, in this country with its half-people.’

Teerwagen slowly twisted his glass one way and the other. ‘Today we’re going to look at Pisces.’ He gave Altberg a swift glance; by this time the old man had emptied the bottle.

‘Yes, Heiner. The mute fishes,’ Altberg murmured.

‘It’s good that we’ve got to know each other a bit better, Herr Rohde. There we are, neighbours, but we don’t have a real conversation until we meet here. Funny. I quite often see you taking your evening walk, you’re pretty unmistakable with your hat. My wife wants me to ask you where you got it.’

‘Present from my sister. The Thälmannstrasse Exquisit, delivery from Yugoslavia.’

‘My wife thought it must be something like that. Lamprecht, the hatter, is still off sick, who knows if he’ll ever go to our heads again, so to speak. His son doesn’t seem interested in taking over the business. – But you need the right face to go with it. Mine’s too round. By the way, I’m also one of your readers. Our librarian gave it a blue card. I have to say that his feeling for quality is seldom wrong, at least for my taste. – Oh, thank you.’ Alke had come and, eyes lowered, was holding up a tray with ice cream.

‘Do you like ice cream, Herr Rohde? I’m mad about it. And it’s excellent here.’ Altberg rubbed his hands in delight and took two tubs.

‘Yes’ – Teerwagen loosened his tie – ‘the ice cream – and the heating.’

Meno was tired and wanted to leave. He gave Alke a surreptitious
sign and she responded with a slight bow. He saw Malthakus attempting to slip out of the conference room with a bulging bag and the Baroness, who was close by, turning away at precisely that moment to take the person she was talking to by the arm and stroll away, chatting, as the stamp dealer grasped the door handle.

‘The Herr Baron wishes to speak to you,’ he heard Ritschel’s equally emphasizing voice murmur behind him. They went into the study. ‘I really would like to have longer to think your offer over,’ Meno said as he went in. Arbogast raised his hand, nodded to Ritschel, who closed the door. ‘Don’t worry, my friend, I don’t want to press you. Just a few formalities. A receipt for your fee. Sign by the red cross please.’ Arbogast handed Meno the form and an envelope across the table.

‘A thousand marks?!’

‘That is what our speakers generally receive. Good pay for good work. The reverse is true as well, something that is unfortunately too little understood in this country. I beg you to excuse the little power cut, there have been more and more recently. I don’t think it will have distracted you too much; you were speaking without notes anyway. Oh, and there’s one more thing …’ Arbogast opened a drawer and handed Meno a heavy, leather-bound tome. ‘Our visitors’ book.’ He picked up a fountain pen and slowly unscrewed the lid. ‘With a joke if possible, please. You should know that I collect jokes.’ There was a knock at the door. Alke came in, whispered something to the Baron.

‘Oh yes.’ Arbogast drummed his fingers on the desk. He drew the visitors’ book to him, leafed through it, took the pen, looked at Meno reflectively. ‘In the garden, you say?’

‘Yes, Herr Baron.’

‘Has anything been affected? The heating plant? The greenhouses?’

‘As far as we could tell, no, Herr Baron.’

Arbogast screwed the lid back on the pen, stroked the visitors’ book. ‘Herr Londoner asked me to tell you that he and his wife would be
delighted if you were to visit them again. Once more, many thanks for coming, Herr Rohde. We’re going to the observatory now, but you’ll be tired.’ He stood up and shook Meno by the hand.

‘To have children is a great responsibility …’

‘They aren’t toys one can acquire when one feels like it and throw away when one doesn’t like them any more.’

‘One has to think about these children. Wouldn’t one be prepared to give them everything? To do everything for them? So that they are brought up to be decent people. Can blossom out?’

‘Well, Herr Doktor, I’m not telling you anything new there, although it’s difficult to be a good father to all one’s children at the same time.’

‘You don’t know what I’m talking about. But we know where you go … On Thursdays. – Your wife, does she know too?’

‘We were talking about children. Do you smoke? Would you like something to drink?’

‘We want to try and keep this conversation calm. Calm and matter-of-fact. Part of that, however, is that in future you must be more careful with our invitations. When a letter’s left opened, it does invite people
to read it, however ordinary it might look, it’s the way things are, a natural human instinct.’

‘Some nurses, some colleagues are interested in whom their senior doctor corresponds with. And a secretary’s job is to deal with letters, opened and unopened ones …’

‘Are you a hundred per cent sure of your secretary? – We are talking calmly, perfectly calmly, Herr Doktor. – Look, among other things I’m responsible for the hospitals in this district. The health services are – you know that as well as I do. But how can one improve something?’

‘That is the question. Grumbling and grousing will get us nowhere, your boss is absolutely right there. That’s something else you know just as well as I do. But perhaps there are disruptive influences?’

‘I’m a qualified electrician, you know, and if one thinks of one of these hospitals as a complex circuit … You only need
one
break and the current stops flowing.’

‘The current is still there, the circuit is the right one, but somewhere in this complex network there’s a blockage, whether it’s arisen by chance or not …’

‘Do you think that hospitals that work, factories that work are not in our interest? There was a time when you thought differently about these things – about interests. Once you were completely on our side. Oh, no, no. As a student one is no longer an child, no longer a silly little boy …’

‘At nineteen one is grown up, responsible for one’s thoughts and actions … You studied and were active in Leipzig, we know that. And
you knew that lip service is not enough, that fine words are nothing in themselves.’

‘You were ready for more. May I show you something …’

‘That’s right, Herr Doktor. With your declaration of commitment. And reports. Most of them are rather wordy, in that I agree with my colleagues in Leipzig. But these reports definitely contain substantial information.’

‘At nineteen … you were a good observer; at nineteen others were officers in the war, partisans, I knew one person who at nineteen was a commander in Budyonny’s army … How angry you could get! What a low opinion of the workers you had, in nineteen fifty-three … And by then you were twenty … And a fighter, Herr Doktor, fully on the side of our cause. If you had had your way, Herr Weniger would have been thrown out of the university.’

‘Fortunately my colleagues were rather more circumspect than you and have kept a good gynaecologist for our country. You hated him, him and his secure position, him and his defeatism, that wasn’t consistent, since Herr Weniger stayed here after all, his naked realism that refused to believe in anything … Just as much as you adored his girlfriend of the time. But then you didn’t write anything about that, about the four times you went to see her … If you should happen to be interested in what Herr Weniger was doing during that time …’

‘Quite right, he was being questioned. Not for his diploma. That was the version his girlfriend told you. – But we digress. If these children have particular talents, it would be negligent of a father not to support them to the best of his ability. Just suppose your sons were musically gifted, wouldn’t you do everything in your power to obtain the
clarinet or cello for which they show such talent? See that they have lessons?’

‘And then it is often the case that children who are musically gifted have talents in other areas as well, they’re not stupid, they have no problems at school.’

‘Perhaps they could become outstanding scientists. Engineers. Technologists.’

‘Or doctors. Of which our country has such great need. – You would like what? Well we do need a little light, Herr Doktor.’

‘But that kind of university course costs money, a lot of money. And the senior high school beforehand. Money that belongs to our state and that it generously disburses for those who, through their qualifications and profession, will at some time in the future occupy privileged positions. Does our state not then have the right to find out who it is who wants to go to university, where they come from and so on?’

‘Whether he intends to employ the knowledge he has acquired here and, as I said, at the state’s expense for the good of that state and in the service of the people who, by their work, have made his studies possible. We consider that a legitimate interest.’

‘So we ought not to be in such a hurry to close your file as our colleagues in Leipzig believe. Your wife seems to have diverted you from our course … Think my proposal over, sleep on it.’

‘Take your time. Oh, and one more thing: as you know, doctors are needed in
our
country. It would be a betrayal of the patients in your care. – Comrade Sergeant, show the Herr Doktor out.’