"Why, sure." Gustav became eager. "What isn't being pinched these days?
Every day a few cars.
But mostly they only drive round in them till the petrol's out and then leave them standing."
"Yes; it's, probably that way with ours."
Gustav told me he meant to get married soon.
There was a little one on the way, so there was nothing else for it.
We drove down the Monkestrasse and then through the side streets.
"There she is!" called Gustav suddenly.
The car was standing in a dark, concealed side alley.
I got out, took my key and switched on the ignition.
"O.K., Gustav," said I. "Thanks very much for bringing me."
"Shouldn't we have a drink somewhere?" he asked.
"No, not to-night.
To-morrow.
I must get off at once."
I put my hand to my pocket to pay him the fare.
"Are you balmy?" he asked.
"Right, thanks, Gustav.
Don't wait.
Au revoir."
"What d'you say to looking around to see if we can't nab the boy that pinched it?"
"No, no, he'll be gone long since, sure." I was suddenly in a frenzy of impatience. "Au revoir, Gustav."
"Have you petrol?" "Yes, enough.
Looked at that already.
Good night, then."
He drove off.
I waited awhile, then I followed, reached the Monkestrasse and drove along it in third.
As I came back again Koster was at the corner.
"What is it?"
"Get in," said I quickly. "You don't need to hang around any more.
I've just been to Alfons.
He's—he's met him already."
"And?"
"Yes," said I.
Koster got in without a word.
He did not take the wheel.
He sat beside me, rather huddled, and I drove.
"Shall we go to my place?" I asked.
He nodded.
I accelerated and took the road by the canal.
The water was one broad silver band.
The warehouses on the opposite bank lay deep black in the shadow, but the streets were drifting pale blue light, over which the tyres slipped along as over invisible snow.
The broad baroque spires of the cathedral towered up beyond the roofs of the houses.
They gleamed green and silver against the receding, phosphorescent sky where the moon hung like a great flaming onion.
"I'm glad it's happened that way, Otto," said I.
"I'm not," replied he. "I should have got him myself."
Frau Zalewski's light was still burning.
As I unlocked the door she came out of her sitting room.
"There's a telegram for you," said she.
"A telegram?" I asked in surprise.