Magic Hoffmann by Jakob Arjouni Read Free Book Online Page B

a while he asked: ‘Which is the correct Berlin station to alight at?’
    â€˜The correct...?’ Rudi tilted his head sceptically to one side, then he cheered up. ‘Just stick with me, I’ll show you.’
    Shortly afterwards they reached Potsdam, and Rudi ordered more beer and vodka.
    â€˜Just look at those houses. All garbage. We didn’t expect to get Switzerland, but at least they could have given us something like Austria.’
    Sooty apartment facades flashed by, dusty grey windows, faded signs for bakeries and cobblers.
    Twenty minutes later they entered Berlin. Fred pressed his face to the window. So this was the city he had seen so often on TV. But soon he seemed to be on an accelerated tour of Hessen. At first gigantic steel edifices rose up, grey and windowless, surrounded by motorways, which reminded him of Mannheim or Offenbach. Then came tall, fifties-style buildings next to tea-coloured civil service construction - Darmstadt - then old buildings with stucco facades in various pastel shades - Wiesbaden. Where were the skyscrapers, palaces, television towers, Brandenburg Gates? The further the train entered the city, the more Mannheim, Darmstadt and Wiesbaden mingled, the more bricks, chrome, concrete, decayed walls, tawdry modern turrets, houses like bunkers and UFO-like structures seemed to be hurled together at random. Fred remembered the paeans of praise which his history teacher had lavished on the women of the ruins - he had probably never taken a look at the results.
    Still, Fred was impressed. He had never seen so many houses in one place. Like many provincials he veered between so what and wow, look at that.
    Rudi had stood up. ‘I’m just going to the loo. We don’t get out at Zoo station. Wait for the main station.’
    He winked at Fred and went to the glass door that led to the first class compartments. Fred wondered why he had brought his coat with him, then he caught the suspicious look in the waitresses eye. Suddenly he leaped up. As he burst out of the dining car, Rudi looked around in astonishment and began to run. A large family was blocking the way, and by the time Fred had shoved the last grandchild aside Rudi had almost reached the next door. Then two enormous rucksacks appeared before him in the aisle, followed by a couple. Rudi stood still, and Fred ran into the back of him at full speed. They fell down together in a tangle of rucksacks and legs.
    Rudi gasped: ‘So you need to go too?’
    â€˜Right away. And the waitress is also bursting, but she’d like to cash up first.’
    Rudi rubbed his shoulder and sighed. ‘You look mad enough as it is.’
    The woman winked at her friend and smiled. ‘Wild town, Berlin.’

7
    Â 
    Fred shoved Rudi back into the dining car, took his suitcase and walked happily to the nearest exit. Berlin, big city, big deal - you couldn’t put one over on Magic Hoffmann that easily. A clown like that would certainly have to get up earlier.
    An elderly gentleman explained to him that the next station lay in the former West Berlin. The train entered a curve and two churches appeared in the window, one half demolished and one in Mannheim style, in the midst of department stores and cinemas. Then the train came to a halt at Zoo station. Fred was propelled along the platform by a pack of screaming teenagers on a school outing. He looked around in amazement. The entire railway station of the capital city consisted of four tracks, two beer stalls and a ticket inspector’s hut. The pack huddled together and, shoulder to shoulder, descended a narrow urine-coloured, tiled stairway down into the station concourse. Gift shops, chip stalls, coffee counters - indistinguishable from hundreds of other stations in Germany.
    Fred went through a revolving door onto the forecourt and looked for a taxi driver to ask the whereabouts of a cheap hotel. Even if he was going to be living with Annette, he