In 1941, Berlin police detective Bernie Gunther flirts with suicide as a way out of his wretched life. He loathes Nazi Germany, but has orders to serve and protect the Reich, and feels like an imposter, a blur of who he was before the crimes that he was commanded to execute in Belorussia. Nazi newspapers trumpet their clarion call that “the Jews are our misfortune,” while Germany struggles to maintain their strength against the advancing Russian army.
Berlin is barely recognizable, with everything in short supply-- watery coffee; minted chalk for toothpaste; powdered milk like sawdust; tiny shards of soap—“even the prettiest girl smelled like a stevedore”--and worst of all, brackish, sour, ersatz beer. You couldn’t even get drunk to escape the pain. Moreover, the streets have eyes and the walls have ears; incautious words and ambiguous acts could get you in serious trouble, or dead.
Bernie Gunther is called up to Prague to serve as bodyguard to Reinhard Heydrich, Reichsprotector and head of the SS. He despises and fears him, but there is no choice but to abide. He is in the middle of investigating the death of a foreign railway worker in Berlin when he leaves. He is also falling for a beautiful woman, Arianne, whose life he saved from a perp who may be connected to the railway worker’s death. She is as inscrutable as Gunther, and thereby irresistible. He invites her to go to Prague with him, and he discreetly plants her at a hotel suite.
At Heydrich’s country house, he is surrounded by the Reich’s most abhorrent officials, including four of Heydrich’s adjutants. A cocktail party serves up more than expected, and compels Bernie into a dicey assignment (no spoilers, so I am being circumspect). This is where the hardboiled style and wit are curtailed. Gunther has been given carte blanche to interrogate the lives and ask no-holes-barred questions of these top officials. A surfeit of details in Gunther’s investigation at the country house occasionally reads like the filling in of dossiers, and becomes too self-aware and telegraphic. The limited movement of the country house setting adds to the officiousness of it all. The noir-like atmosphere dissipates as the narrative style changes; the pace becomes uneven, sluggish at times, and loses its edge.
The most enigmatic character, Arianne, shrinks from a spicy, intriguing character into a stock set piece for two-thirds of the novel. However, Kerr delivers up a cogent denouement, harking back to the hardboiled style once again and provoking a possible storyline for the next novel. I had begun to slouch in my chair, until the climax put me right back on the edge.
This is my first Kerr novel, but I am interested in pursuing more of the Bernie Gunther series, especially the first three books, which were well received. Apparently, the Gunther series is not written in chronological order, as the last book, FIELD GRAY, took place in the 1950’s. 3.75