Chapter One Thousand Four Hundred Twenty-Eight
28th January 1961
Mitte, Berlin
There was a great deal of profound irony of having John Elis approach Zella about Kiki regarding the music that she had played in the club almost a year earlier. A year ago, Kiki had come in during an open mic night at the club and had been given a somewhat muted reception. Over the last year styles and tastes in music had shifted somewhat, many would argue that it was a return to basics. This change was a complete surprise and he asked Zella if she could talk to her friend. Somehow, Kiki of all people had been way ahead of everyone else and now they were trying to catch up.
“There’s now a demand for an act like that” John had said, “Folk music of all things is big in New York right now, some sort of Beatnik bullshit and I’m in this business to make a living here.”
That was a week ago and once Kiki agreed to come into the club on a day off, things had come together with surprising speed. Kiki was a classically trained musician along with Sarah Schmidt so playing with the V8 Club’s house band was relatively easy for her once they had agreed on the music that they were going to play. When Saturday night rolled around Zella was certainly surprised at the reception that Kiki received. These people had no idea who she was. To them she was just a pretty girl fronting a band. She was back in the artistic look, the one that Zella had noticed a year earlier. This time, Kiki was wearing a red velvet dress with white linen beneath that looked like it had come straight from the Baroque Period. Considering the resources for old clothes that Kiki had, it was extremely likely that the dress was authentic and had been dug from a chest somewhere in the Hohenzollern Palace.
Zella wondered what the original woman who had worn that dress would make of her descendant wearing it in this context. That was when the thought occurred to her that she would probably approve of what Kiki was doing with her life, even as she envied her relative freedom. How many times had Kiki reminded Zella of what life was like for their ancestors? Smallpox, arranged marriages, complete lack of sanitation, Theocracy and constant war because of that. Certainly not coming up roses, that was for certain.
Besides being here to support her friend, Zella had other business here tonight. Werther Meindl, a Mechanical Engineer by trade with BMW Motorrad and had worked in Stuttgart until he had come to Berlin to work on the von Holz Racing Team. For Zella’s purposes, he was stupid enough to think that he could get away with sleeping with the daughter of his boss though she had done nothing to lead him on. That was why Zella had accepted his invitation to come here tonight. She already knew that it was going to end in frustration in that regard, but before that happened Zella would have an opportunity to sell him on her designs. If that didn’t work, then his presence here alone would be more than enough for her to have him by the balls and she was perfectly prepared to squeeze them until he squeaked.
“I’ll have one of whatever she’s having” Werther said to John, who glanced Zella’s way. She nodded and John added a liberal amount of vodka to the soda with a twist where Zella’s drinks rarely contained alcohol.
Zella wanted Werther’s judgement impaired but not enough for him to set his judgement aside entirely. If Zella gave John a second signal, then Werther would be slipped a Micky. Later he would wake up naked in a different sort of establishment a couple blocks from here that didn’t advertise its presence and specialized in the sort of activities that few people would admit to partaking in. John found it funny that if you really want to get rid of people, putting them in a situation where people would forever think that they were a submissive who was into whips and chains happened to be extremely effective. It helps to have friends in extremely low places was how John put it. He was more than happy to help Zella with a caper, but only so long as it didn’t draw the wrong sort of official attention and no one got badly hurt. A man thinking with wrong part of his anatomy was asking to have a girl like Zella swindle him even if she just intended to steal his time as opposed to his money.
“The girl with the violin is a friend of yours?” Werther asked.
“Yeah” Zella replied, not bothering to correct him about what instrument Kiki was playing “All the way back to when we were in school.”
“You’re still in school, aren’t you?” Werther asked.
Someone like Werther would be too dense to see the difference between University and the Gymnasia, otherwise he would be aware of the steel jaws that were already closed around his neck. They sat at the bar in silence for a few minutes before Werther spoke up again.
“Your father said that you were a big on the music scene here in Berlin” Werther said, “I figured that you would be able to let me know who’s who and what the happening acts are.”
That actually sounded fairly reasonable to Zella, but she knew from experience to see past people’s pretense.
That was when Arnold, one of heavies who worked as a bouncer on the busier nights at the V8 Club walked past the bar. In spite of appearances, he was also openly gay. No one dared to take issue with that because Arnold could pop someone’s head like a pimple if they bothered him. Werther gave him a subtle toast and Arnold gave him a slight nod. Only Zella witnessed the exchange and instantly understood the implications.
“I think I’m going to enjoy working in Berlin” Werther said as Zella cursed inwardly. John Elis was going to laugh his head off when Zella explained this to him later. Werther was a friend of Old Fritz and she would need to come up with a different plan.
