Gorilla Republic: Deutschland: Part 14

14th January 2025

Grunwald, Bavaria

Grünwald was an affluent, well-defined neighbourhood, its low population making it one of the most desirable places to live, and not just in Munich, but in the whole of Bavaria. Affluent Germans flocked to it, and residing there was an unspoken badge of success. As Banou stepped out of the taxi, she immediately sensed how starkly different Grünwald was from Sendling. The air carried the subtle yet unmistakable weight of old money. Following the discreetly folded map, they quickly realised they would stand out far more than anticipated. It was not difficult to locate the Kurhotel spa. They settled at a small café across the street, from where they could observe the entrance. As the lazy morning sun drifted overhead, they shared pitchers of Schorle and assessed their operational vantage point. One thing became clear, it was not going to work. The café was too exposed, and even without that disadvantage, they were African and conspicuously out of place.

“We need to pretend we are a couple,” Banou suggested.

Mapacha, already sceptical of the plan, cast her a sideways glance, his expression a careful mix of patience and doubt. They tried another café down the street, only to find it even worse, crowded, noisy, and impossible for a discreet conversation. Frustrated, they turned back. As they strolled along the streets, Banou slipped her arm through his, a deliberate attempt to blend in with the strolling couples. Mapacha stiffened slightly at the unexpected contact but said nothing, his face an impassive mask. She leaned in closer, pretending to admire the window displays they passed, and caught a trace of his scent, earthy, masculine, and faintly tinged with the sharpness of the morning's tea. It was unexpectedly comforting, and for a moment, her irritation melted into a quiet fondness. Mapacha, however, was less composed. The Afro Sheen in her hair mingled with the subtle floral notes of her imported Oil of Olay, creating a heady aroma that pricked at the edges of his self-control. He forced himself to focus on the task at hand, his jaw tightening as he fought off the discomfort stirred by her proximity. Banou, sensing his tension, smirked inwardly. She knew better than to expect him to hold her hand or lean into the moment as the other couples around them did. Yet, there was something in his silence that intrigued her. For now, she let her arm rest on his, pretending not to notice his discomfort, though the faintest flicker of amusement danced in her eyes.

“Hey, Mapacha, you have to smile and look romantic,” she urged.

Mapacha, whose face was set in a permanent grimace, offered no encouragement. Romance, it seemed, was as foreign to him as Grünwald itself. Eventually, they returned to the original café. Over sandwiches and tea, they watched the spa entrance. Mapacha resigned himself to the café's limitations and focused on observing the clientele. Wealthy retirees and sharply dressed businessmen arrived in high-end Mercedes Benzes and Audis, confirming the exclusivity of the Kurhotel. While Banou smoked and tried to maintain polite conversation, Mapacha quietly catalogued their comings and goings. Despite his keen observation, he found it hard to get a clear look at their faces. By dusk, Mapacha signalled the end of their reconnaissance. With Banou once again clutching his arm, they hailed a taxi and returned to Sendling. Over dinner at the hotel restaurant, Mapacha broke his silence.

“This is not going to work. We can’t operate out of a café. We will need a car, somewhere more discreet to watch from.”

Banou, inexperienced and increasingly out of her depth, nodded in default agreement.

“Call Odria after dinner and tell her we need a car tomorrow. Something fast but unremarkable. No driver, I will handle that myself.”

“You can drive?” Banou asked, surprised.

“Yes, Banou. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Well, Gwafa or the boss always did the driving. You never seemed to.”

Mapacha’s glare made her shrink slightly.

“I was in the army. Driving was mandatory for all recruits. Gwafa’s the getaway man, and the boss enjoys driving. I let them.”

They finished the rest of their meal in silence before retreating to their room. Banou called Odria, who promised to arrange a car by morning. Relaying this to Mapacha, she then undressed, showered, and fell into an exhausted sleep. Mapacha, however, remained awake. Laying both maps on the floor, he reviewed them carefully, mentally piecing together Grünwald. The maps showed landmarks but not residential properties, so he marked off public houses, refining his focus. Next, he examined Ludwig’s photographs. Thirty years had passed. How had time changed him? Would he have lost his hair? Suffered an injury? Altered his face deliberately? Mapacha studied every line, trying to imagine Ludwig at his current age. The questions haunted him long into the night, leaving him restless. By the time sleep came, it was almost morning.

**

Opel Commodore Fastback

The next morning, after a quick breakfast of brezen, weisswurst and tea, they rushed out quickly, intending to find Odria. As they passed the reception, they heard the receptionist calling out to them.

"Good morning," the fresh faced Bavarian greeted with his heavily accented English. "This was delivered for you this morning."

It was a brown sealed envelope. Mapacha thanked him, tipped him 5 Marks, and they walked out into the open. He unsealed the envelope, and inside, he found three keys on a holder on a note.

'Use the Opel. The tank is full, and it is ready to go.'

Odria had delivered the car quickly, having worked overnight to source one for them. Her choice for the job was a two door Opel Commodore fastback. With a keen eye, Mapacha walked around it, appraising, and realised it was a perfect candidate. It looked common enough that it would blend in anywhere, and appeared fast enough that it could do a quick job. The unit Odria had picked was not flashy, came with a faded lime green schema that had patches of dirt, a series of discoloured stickers in German that they could not read that were carelessly stuck on the dented rear bumpers, with lightly tinted windows that made them slightly obscure, enough that they would not be seen, but transparent enough to not look suspicious. On the Munich roads, it was simply just another car. Banou was unsure, but she did not know much about cars, so she let it go.

"Get in," Mapacha instructed as he unlocked the driver's door.

Banou slid in, a bit wary about Mapacha's driving experience. He stuffed they key into the ignition, fired it up and listened as the 2.5 litre straight six roared for a moment, then settled into a steady rumble. What it lacked in appearance, it made up in engine power. This drew a quick rare smirk on Mapacha's lips before he returned to his stoic face. Banou caught it, and realised one thing about him. He liked mechanical things, and the one they were in excited him.

After he was certain it had warmed up, he dropped it into gear and crept out of the car park onto the street and then onto the main road. Banou's scepticism about Mapacha driving faded when she realised that he drove well, competently, and fast. He wound his way through traffic, and kept minding the rear view mirror to see if they were being followed. Eventually, Banou's fears were weaned out, and she started getting into the mode of things. A half an hour later, they were parked a distance away from Kurhotel. The car offered them ideal cover, and they had a much better view of the spa. From his knapsack, he drew out a pair of field glasses and focused them on the entrance. When he had ranged them properly, he handed them to Banou to give them a try.

"Can you see through them clearly?"

It took her a few minutes to get used to them.

"Yeah."

"Focus on the faces. Can you see them?"

She focused on a random face and realised she could make it out quite well.

"Right. Now check this out."

Composite Sketch of Ludwig Falkenhain

She withdrew from the glasses and watched as Mapacha set one picture of Ludwig on his lap and another, an impressive composite sketch of what he imagined he looked like. Banou sat amazed at Mapacha and realised that she had grossly underestimated him. She reached for the pictures.

"You drew this?"

"Yes."

"When?"

"Last night."

She wanted to whistle in admiration, but she realised that Mapacha would likely not care about this talent he had showcased.

"We will take turns watching it. I will go first. Every time we switch, one of us will go to one of the cafes to relieve themselves and to get a snack. You cannot go to the same place I have been. It will raise suspicion."

"OK."

Mapacha cracked his window open, and a steady cool breeze trickled into the cabin. He leaned back the seat and set himself for comfort. It would be a long wait.

At first, it was easygoing. Banou, her usual chatterbox self, had attempted to make conversation with Mapacha, but she could not bring up a topic that interested him. She missed Gwafa and even Mzee Tembo in that sense. At least with Gwafa, she could gossip with him, and with Mzee Tembo, she could needle him, but Mapacha was stolid. When it was her turn to watch the door, she had pointed out two individuals who had left. One was in a Mercedes Benz, and they had followed it to a clinic and realised it was not him. They other had left in a DKW F102 and had gone out of Grünwald, and so, they figured it could not be him. Dusk hit fast, and it surprised Banou, who had expected the day to drag. She had found it exciting at first, and she felt like a spy, but she soon realised just how much of a bore this part of the job was.

As they ate their dinner, Banou was a lot more quiet than Mapacha knew her to be, and he noted her spirits were low. This forced him to borrow a leaf from Mzee Tembo's play book.

"Don't worry Banou, tomorrow we try again, till we find this raposa (fox)," he had assured her.

That did little to convince her, and she was surprised Mapacha cared enough to try brightening her mood up. As she lay underneath the soft white cotton sheets in her room later that night, she suddenly had the urge to convince Mapacha that they could not do it, but she realised it would sound stupid. She bashed her cigarette against the ash tray and left herself drift off to sleep.

It was back to the same routine the next morning, except they had picked a different spot to park. They watched, pursued a few leads, but it was all hopeless. Around midday, Mapacha had left Banou and wandered around to find a new cafe he had not been into to use the bathroom and get snacks. He returned with sandwiches and sodas, and they ate in silence. The rest of the afternoon was no different, and Mapacha realised that it was probably better to leave early and save a weary Banou from additional angst. He was certain they would need a new plan, one that would involve getting into the spa and somehow getting the records to see if they could find a name that matched and more important, an address or telephone number. He started the Opel and he drove unconvinced away from the spa. At one of the junctions while they were stopped, a deep burgundy Audi 100 drove across the junction. Mapacha, still alert caught the frame of a svelte man in the passenger seat, and his eyes focused on him for a moment. Without hesitating, he turned right and slowly started following the Audi.

"Hey Mapacha, where are we going? This is not the way back to the hotel," a surprised Banou enquired.

She faced him and saw a different look on his face, with his flared nose pointed like a hound, and his eyes transfixed on the car ahead. Banou was confused for a moment, then saw a man in the passenger seat.

"Wait, is that him?"

Again, he ignored her and kept the car at a careful distance. They trailed the Audi for around ten minutes as it wound its way through Grünwald. Eventually, it stopped outside a smart traditional style bungalow with a waist high fence. The man in the passenger seat let himself out, and with great effort and reliance on a black cane dithered through the gate towards the house and he left himself in. Mapacha, who had stopped the car a distance away trailed his effort with the field glasses and watched the whole scene unfold.

"Yes, Banou, I think that is the guy we are looking for," he hissed, masking his excitement.

"Now way, let me see," she said as she grabbed the glasses from Mapacha, but all she saw was the red stained wooden door shut.

"Are you sure it was him?"

"I need to see him again, but it looks like him."

He jotted down the address and looked around to see what the neighbourhood looked like. Banou's heart thumped with excitement. Finally, after so much effort, they had a solid lead. Not wanting to draw attention to themselves, Mapacha turned the Opel around and headed back in the direction they had come from, hoping he could find the junction they had turned from, and eventually head to their hotel. With all the happenings going on, and Banou riddling Mapacha with a volley of questions, he failed to notice a navy blue BMW 1500 that had parked up the block.

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