07-11-2025, 03:45 PM
"One, two" Police. Three, four" Grenadier"
Grinning, I tapped on the call acceptance of my cell phone's hands-free system. A few days ago, Derek had put this ringtone of an ancient hit on the device and assigned it to his own number, so it was clear who was calling.
“Hello darling”
Hi Sascha. Tell me, what are you doing right now
I'm stuck in traffic on the A9 just before the Schkeuditzer Kreuz. Why
Okay, then you probably have a little time for me.
I always have time for you, don't I
Haha, that'd be nice. Listen, I got two theater tickets from a customer for Othello.
Crap, not again. I wasn't a big fan of the theater, unfortunately Derek was quite the opposite. I suppressed the sigh that was already on the tip of my tongue.
“And when”
“That's the problem, it's tonight. Do you have time?”
This was THE opportunity to put in some overtime! On the other hand, Derek was so sweet that I couldn't really say no.
“I think so. When and where?”
“At eight at the theater. Can you make it?”
“I'll manage.” ”Should I dress up?”
“Well, it can be a little more than your usual jeans and T-shirt.”
I had suspected it.
Okay. Shall we meet at the entrance at half past seven?
Yes, great! Thanks, Sascha!
I could literally feel Derek smiling contentedly. What wouldn't I do for the boy.
Okay, then, see you tonight.
We said goodbye and I ended the connection. Theater. Argh! Othello? I had heard of it, but please don't ask me what it was about. Theater things went in one ear and out the other for me. But wait, there was something. I had to grin, a famous Saxon joke crept through my brain: “What's the difference between a kettle and Othello?” “In the Gessl, the tea is boiling, in the Odello, the tea is done!”
Rrrrrrring! Rrrrrrring!
It was like being at a telephone exchange today! This ringtone, however, did not bode well; it sounded official.
Altmann.
Sascha, where are you?
Always the same questions.
At the Schkeuditzer Kreuz.
Get dressed and go to Nürnberger Straße 32.
What's going on there?
? There's a flat on fire and the police found a dead body.?
That's not uncommon. However, it was usually not a job for us, there had to be more to it than that.
?And?
?The cause of death was probably neither the fire nor the smoke inhalation.?
Ah yes, so it was a job for us after all.
?Okay, I'm on my way.?
I rolled down the window next to me and stuck the blue strobe light on the car roof. I also put on the appropriate music, and as if by magic, the road in front of me was cleared. Okay, unfortunately it wasn't quite that smooth, but at least I wasn't stationary anymore.
Maybe this would be a good time to introduce myself. Allow me, Sascha Altmann. Detective Inspector Sascha Altmann, to be precise. Employed at the Leipzig CID in the “crimes against the person” department, also known as the homicide division in everyday German. 25-year-old teenager, tall, slim, blond, gay. Well, after the phone call with Derek, that was probably already clear anyway. We had known each other for half a year, and we were slowly approaching the point where we would start living together.
Damn, that stupid chick! Blind and deaf! She just pulls into the lane in front of me. And with a Smart. If I hadn't slammed on the brakes, my heavy BMW would have pushed this little box so hard that she would have ended up on the new runway at the nearby airport. That would have meant more paperwork!
Luckily, I was now slowly getting out of the traffic jam, and soon I really had a clear run all the way into the center of Leipzig. From a distance, I saw the flashing blue lights of the fire department when I turned into the one-way street leading to the scene of the crime. Shortly thereafter, I parked the car behind a green-white Passat. The house looked like a rather dark hut, so I should probably take my torch with me. As I got out, I spotted the first familiar face and greeted the uniformed colleague who was taking care of the roadblock.
“Hi Berni.”
“Hi Sascha. It took you a long time, your boat's been there for ages.”
I had the longest way, I was already in Weißenfels today, to deliver evidence.
Poor you. Well, have fun in there, everything is destroyed.
Luckily I was wearing black trousers. I marched to the entrance, through which two fire hoses were still winding. One of the firefighters came towards me.
“Where do you think you're going?”
“Altmann, CID. Where do I have to go?”
“Got it. Second floor on the left. You can't miss it, just follow the smell.”
This was getting better and better. I fought my way up the soaking wet stairs and entered the affected apartment shortly thereafter. The colleagues from the fire department had apparently arrived quickly at the scene and were able to limit the fire to the apartment. That was a good thing, otherwise the wooden staircase in this run-down old building would have caused huge problems.
I went deeper into the apartment and spotted my “Big Chief” looking through the third door.
“Hi boss.”
“Hello Sascha, you're finally here.”
I made an offended face.
“Boss, it's not even nine o'clock and I've already been to Weißenfels?”
Detective Chief Inspector Machlitzke grinned.
“I'm only joking. You were pretty quick from the Schkeuditzer Kreuz to here.”
Well, I wanted to say that too!
“What do we have here?”
Jens (that's my boss's first name) pointed invitingly to the far left corner of the room.
“Take a look for yourself.”
I entered the room and went to where another familiar face was standing next to a slightly charred human body.
“Hello, Doc?”
“Sascha?”
Yikes, that really wasn't a particularly pretty sight. A man, apparently middle-aged, with his clothes partially burned into his skin, was lying on the floor in a contorted position.
“Cause of death?”
“Definitely not the fire, he was already dead.” ”Take a look at his head.”
I could have done without that, but it was all in a day's work, so I squatted down next to the body. Hm. The prompt arrival of the fire brigade had ensured that some things were still clearly visible. For example, the huge dent above the left temple.
“Fall or blow?”
“Blow from a blunt instrument, I'd say. You'd have to fall awkwardly to catch something like that.”
That finally made it clear why my team had been requested. I rose again and went over to Jens.
“Murder with arson to cover up?”
“It certainly looks that way. Murder or manslaughter. Smell it?”
I sniffed. Through the overpowering smell of burning and the stench of burnt flesh, I now detected another faint smell.
“Fire accelerant?”
“Exactly. That blob over there looks like a melted petrol can.”
I looked around the room a little.
“But it can't have been full, otherwise the F wouldn't have had a chance.”
“You're right, big guy, there were probably only a few drops left.”
“He probably only found it here and didn't bring any with him. Unplanned? More like manslaughter, right?”
That's one of the things we need to find out. Take a look around, maybe you'll find something interesting.
That's exactly what I did. I put on gloves, turned on my flashlight and began to examine the surroundings. In the room with the body, presumably the living room, fire and the water used to extinguish the fire had left a trail of destruction. Or was there more?
“Boss, did F live like this?”
“Nah, they say they barely touched anything.”
“Then there must have been a real fight, the way the furniture is lying around.”
Right. Pa? Watch where you're stepping, or you'll step on the murder weapon.
Gosh, I'm not a rookie anymore!
Well, hopefully.
I carefully picked my way through the remains of a dining table and the chairs. Hm. Big dent in the head. A chair leg? But they all still seemed to be attached to the corresponding chairs. I continued picking. Wait a minute. What was that? Carefully, I uncovered a larger piece of wood in the field of debris. Wow. It looked like I had struck gold! The thing had apparently been somewhat protected from the fire by the debris above it, at least it looked quite intact, and it wasn't even slightly charred. Those dark spots weren't burnt, they looked like blood!
“Jens!”
KHK Machlitzke was next to me in a flash.
“Did you find something?”
“Yes, it looks like it. Could it be the murder weapon?”
Jens stared at my find in amazement.
“A rolling pin?”
Despite the macabre situation, I had to laugh.
“With this, we have narrowed down the potential circle of perpetrators to mother-in-law and wife.”
Now my boss was laughing too.
“It would be nice if it were that simple. But good work, Sascha.”
Doc, who had joined us in the meantime, confirmed this.
“Yes, that could well be the case. The size fits the head injury in any case. But I won't be able to say anything more precise until later.”
Sure thing, Doc. Time of death?
The man addressed frowned.
I'm sorry, Jens, it's hard to say at this stage. The sooner I have the body on the table, the sooner you'll get more precise information.
All right, Doc. I'll make sure he's delivered to you as quickly as possible.
Thanks. I'll get out of your way then, there's nothing more for me to do here. Have fun, you two.
With these words, the coroner disappeared, and Jens looked at me.
Call the cold hand, they can come and clear up.
I did as I was told and called the hearse on my cell phone. The poor bastards would also enjoy their customer. Then I joined Jens, who was still looking around the apartment. Unfortunately, we didn't find anything that would have given us a quick lead on the possible culprit. However, my boss did discover a laptop behind an overturned chair.
“Let's see if it still works.”
He made a move to press the power button.
“Don't, Jens!”
He looked at me in astonishment.
“Why not? I just want to see if it still works. Maybe we'll find some information that will help us.”
I looked at the device doubtfully. It looked pretty worn out. The casing was splintered around the monitor, slightly charred in another place, and the extinguishing water had also contributed to the destruction.
“If you try to turn it on, it could give it a final blow.”
Shit, you're probably right. But if I send it to the LKA lab, I won't get the results until sometime between Christmas and New Year's. And I'm deliberately not saying when.?
I had to laugh. Since Machlitzke had convicted a high-ranking LKA official of murdering his lover two or three years ago, the relationship between him and his colleagues there had been more than just a little strained.
“I have a better idea, boss.”
“So?” ”Fire away!”
The thing is too big even for the LKA guys, they pass something like that on to external data recovery experts.
What are you getting at? Wait, isn't your better half a computer guru?
That's right, he works at Data Rescue, and sooner or later the schlepp would end up on his desk anyway.
Jens' face cleared up a bit.
“Hm, you mean we could foist it on him directly?” Some people would get pretty huffy about that, saying it was bypassing the official channels.
Then he laughed.
“Oh, screw the official channels. Hildebrand?”
One of the forensic technicians who had arrived in the meantime rushed over.
“Yes, boss?”
“Take a quick look and see if you can find any tracks on this thing so we can send it to the data recovery lab.”
“You got it.”
The technician took the laptop and disappeared with it in the direction of the mobile lab. Jens turned back to me.
“Can you take this directly to your Devon?”
Derek, not Devon. Yes, I think so. He owes me a big favor anyway.
Machlitzke looked at me curiously.
What for? Or should I, an innocent heterosexual, not ask this question?
I answered him, laughing.
Hehe, it's harmless. He's taking me to the theater tonight, to see Othello.
Sounds good to me, you cultural barbarian. I should do something like that with my wife again sometime.
Sorry, but that's really not my thing. But maybe I'll have to work overtime tonight after all?
I looked hopefully at my superior, but he shook his head and grinned.
“Nothing. Especially now that we have to keep your Dennis happy so that he will help us.”
“Derek!”
“All right, all right. So go on, beat it. As soon as Hildebrand is done with the forensics, you go to your sweetheart and wheedle the thing out of him.”
“All right, boss. Should I come back here afterwards?”
No, go straight to the office, I'll be on my way soon too. There's not much more I can do here, the rest has to be done by the forensic police.
So I left the unpleasant crime scene and walked down to the street, where I got into the forensics van. The technician present was just leaning over the laptop.
“Find anything, Werner?”
“Three pretty messed-up fingerprints and half a handprint. But I can't promise that they'll be usable in the end.”
“But you'll try?”
“Sure, I'll do my best.” ”Well, I'm done, you can take it with you.”
“Great.”
I grabbed the laptop, which had also been cleaned a bit in the meantime. After I had stowed it safely in the car, I set off for my sweetheart's company. Hm. Maybe I should warn him. I tapped the speed dial for his cell phone. After a half rings, he was already on and I heard his cheerful voice.
“Hello Sascha, missing me already?”
I laughed.
“I'm ALWAYS missing you when we're not together.”
“You old flatterer. I hope for your sake that you're not calling to cancel tonight!”
I sighed.
“No, but I'm planning an attack on you.”
Shoot.?
I need your expert help. We have a damaged laptop here, and we urgently need to access the data. If we leave it to the LKA, it will take forever and a day.?
How badly damaged??
Badly, I'd say. Fall, fire and extinguishing water.?
Derek groaned.
You don't do things by halves, do you? And knowing you, should I drop everything else?
I had to grin, he knew me just way too well.
That would be VERY nice!
All right, I can take a look at the thing. When will you be here?
I looked around briefly, the traffic was flowing quite well.
Five to ten minutes, I don't need any longer.?
Okay, I'll clear the table. See you in a moment.?
We finished the call, and about seven minutes later I pulled into the Data Rescue company parking lot. After getting the laptop out of the trunk, I entered the office building and wanted to take the familiar route to Derek's office – but I hadn't reckoned with the dragon behind the reception desk.
“Where do you think you're going?”
I looked around. Oh God, where had Data Rescue found that old hag? Shouldn't a receptionist be welcoming customers in a friendly manner? I decided to answer with a counter question.
“Where is Ms. D?lke?”
She is on vacation, I am the substitute. So, where do you want to go? You can't just walk in here!
So, I can't? That would be a first.
You are the substitute? I see. Tell me, do you know Mr. Prosch by any chance?
Of course, he is one of the managing directors!
Well, at least she knew that much.
“Great. Firstly, I'm his friend, secondly I have an appointment and thirdly, I'm convinced that he wouldn't be particularly thrilled if he knew what kind of tone you use when addressing potential customers!”
The dragon's face grew longer and longer, but no further sounds came, so I turned around again and three minutes later I was in my darling's office/laboratory.
“Hi Derek?”
“Sascha?”
He rushed over to me, carefully took the laptop from me and placed it on a table, and then gave me a not-so-careful hug. Oh God, I had such a crush on this crazy little brown-haired guy! About three hours later, we managed to let go of each other. Well, it wasn't quite three hours. Strictly speaking, it was much too short. But duty called.
“So this is my new patient?”
“Yes. What do you think, can you fix him?”
Derek looked curiously at the laptop.
“Has anyone already tampered with it?”
No, I just managed to stop Jens from turning it on.
Very good, then there is hope. Where did you get it?
It was found in the room of a murdered man, in which the murderer started a fire to cover up his crime.
I briefly told Derek about my latest case. He sighed.
Nice. How soon do you need a result?
Let me think. Until yesterday?
He looked at me reproachfully.
Okay, until the day before yesterday?
Stupid! All right, I'll get right on it and get back to you when I've found something.
That would be really very nice of you, darling.
I'll do anything for you. But we're still going to Othello tonight, right?
Yes, of course!
I preferred to just think the word 'unfortunately' to myself. I said goodbye to Derek, threw a friendly 'see you' at the reception dragon on my way out, got in the car and drove to the office. I arrived at practically the same time as my boss and together we went upstairs to the office.
'What does David say, can he fix the laptop?
Derek! His name is Derek! And he'll do his best, won't he?”
“Well, hopefully, we didn't find anything useful in the apartment. But maybe Eva already has something?”
Eva Schl?ter, a detective sergeant, was confined to a wheelchair after a serious accident and has since done everything she could from her desk. Sure enough, we found her happily hacking away at her computer keyboard.
“Hi, Eva.”
“Hello, Sascha.”
After the greeting, we sat down on our chairs and looked expectantly at the only female being in the room.
“Well, I've already found out a few things. The tenant of the apartment is called Harald Brauner, 43 years old, with a criminal record. The Organized Crime Department has a thick file on him, covering everything from human smuggling to counterfeiting. But he was always just one of the small fry. Here, there is also a photo.
Eva pointed to the large flat screen on the wall. Hm, well I couldn't say whether that was our burnt corpse. It could be, but it didn't have to be. Jens seemed to feel the same way.
It could be the victim, but I wouldn't want to make any definite statements. Of course, it was his apartment, so there are a few things that point in that direction.
Probably. It would be a pretty big coincidence if someone who looked somewhat similar to the tenant was found beaten to death in a stranger's apartment.
Are there any current investigations against him?
No, boss. Brauner only got out of prison six weeks ago and he hasn't shown up since then.
Hm. Anyway, please check with the OV, maybe they can give us some advice on where we should look.
I'll do that, boss.
Sascha and I are going to the cafeteria first, we both haven't had a decent breakfast yet.
Breakfast? I looked at my watch, it was already just after eleven. How time flies.
Do you want us to get you something?
No, thanks, I'll go to lunch with the girls later.
Machlitzke and I went to the annexe where the cafeteria was located. It was reasonably empty; breakfast was over and lunch was just beginning. We got ourselves something to eat, then sat down at one of the many free tables.
What do you think, Jens? A criminal with a thick police record, a murder, it all fits together, doesn't it?
My boss looked thoughtfully at his plate.
Yes, it seems so. This could be a pretty big deal if there are any gang-related issues involved. It would be really damn important, your Detlef?
Derek!
? whatever, that he finds something on the laptop. I'll have the apartment searched again with the finest comb, maybe something will turn up there after all.
We talked a little more before we headed back to the office around half past twelve. Eva already had news for us there.
Doc called and sent us the victim's fingerprints. There wasn't much left to get, the fingers were pretty charred, but there's an 85 percent probability that it's Brauner. He's also doing a tooth comparison, but that'll take time, he needs the prison doctor's files first.
Well, that's enough to work with the hypothesis that the dead man is actually Harald Brauner. Have you heard anything from the police yet?
No, they were quite surprised that he's out again. Actually, he still had a year and a half to go.
Very funny. At that moment, my cell phone rang with the familiar melody, which made the other two present laugh. I quickly accepted the call.
“Yes?”
“Hello darling. Pay attention, the laptop was not as damaged as it looked from the outside. I was able to read almost the entire hard drive and burned everything onto a DVD. One of our field representatives should arrive in about a quarter of an hour, he has the laptop and the DVD with him.
Wow, you're great! I didn't think it would be so fast.
As I said, the damage wasn't as bad as it could have been. So then, see you tonight.
Thanks a lot, kid!
Grinning, I hung up and looked into the expectant faces of my colleagues.
“The broad grin on your face means that Daniel must have found something.”
“Derek!”
This time my objection to defacing the name of my beloved was supported by Eve in stereo.
“Yes, yes, all right. Come on, what is it now?”
He was able to copy almost all the data. We'll get the laptop back in a few minutes, along with a DVD containing the data from the hard drive.
Great! I hope this helps us. You'd better go downstairs and accept delivery of the stuff right away.
I followed the instructions and twenty minutes later I re-entered the office. I immediately gave the DVD to Eve.
“Here, see what you can do with this.”
Our computer expert immediately plunged into the work, and while she was doing so, the door opened and KHK Berger from the Organized Crime Division entered.
“Hi. I heard you're working on one of my patients?”
Well, actually Doc is working on him, and I wouldn't call him a patient anymore. Do you have anything that could help us?
Not much that you don't already have, but at least I found out why he was released from prison already.
We looked at our visitor curiously.
“Terminal bowel cancer, the doctors gave him three to six months.”
He hadn't even reached the three months. But that explained the early release from prison. And maybe Brauner should be happy that he had been spared the last phase of his illness.
“According to the files, Brauner wasn't a big shot, was he?”
Nah, he was always just a henchman. And always the one who got caught and busted. But he never ratted on his backers.
So no revenge among old business partners?
I don't think so. Like I said, he didn't betray anyone, and he was far too insignificant to make himself a mortal enemy.
At least not until today.
Exactly, Jens. I'll let you get back to work. Please let me know when you've found something, okay?
Machlitzke promised him, then it was just the three of us in the office again.
Guys, I've got something!
We immediately rushed to Eva, who was staring intently at her computer monitor.
“Here, his email program. He has been communicating with a Viktor Barenkow for the last two weeks.”
Something about the name rang a bell in my head, but I couldn't place it.
“And here, he wanted to meet with him this morning, at his apartment! Brauner wanted to collect 50,000 dollars from Barenkow for something.”
Jens winced.
“I get it. Viktor Barenkow. He runs a car and scrap yard somewhere out in Lönig. Supposedly he's into car smuggling, but they could never prove it.”
Thoughtfully, I looked at the monitor.
“Did Brauner want to blackmail him with it?”
It's possible. But wait a minute, there's something else here. In this e-mail Brauner mentions some stones. I think he wanted to sell them to Barenkow for the fifty thousand.?
Our boss picked up the phone and dialled a speed-dial number.
“Sven? Jens here. Say, Brauner in connection with some stones, does that ring a bell?”
Jens listened for a moment, then switched to speaker.
“Say that again, please, so the others can hear.”
KHK Berger's voice came through.
“Just before his last arrest, Brauner was involved in a blood diamond deal. Maybe that's what they mean by stones?”
An interesting theory. Maybe Brauner had diverted some back then?
How much would you need to get 50,000 dollars for it?
Our telephone partner thought for a moment.
“It depends. With a reasonably reputable dealer – if you can even talk about blood diamonds in terms of reputable – not that much. If you have to sell quickly and can't pick and choose the buyer, it would have to be a handful.”
Jens switched immediately.
Brauner didn't have much time to find a reputable buyer. He had to fall back on the connections he had from before. Did the name Barenkow come up in connection with him at some point?
Barenkow? Viktor Barenkow? The car dealer? Not that I know of, but supposedly he's involved in everything and nowhere.
Okay, thanks, Sven. I think we'll pay Mr. Barenkow a visit.
Gladly. And keep me posted, okay? If you can get your hands on something on Viktor, that would be a holiday for us. The slimy brother has always slipped through our fingers.
Let's do it.”
Machlitzke hung up and looked at me.
“Come on, Sascha, let's go.”
We grabbed our jackets and headed out. Twenty minutes later, we had found the junkyard with the attached used car lot. Everything looked very quiet, not a soul in sight, but the gate was wide open, so we drove in. We got out and looked around when suddenly, about a hundred meters away, a man came around a pile of scrap cars. When he saw us, he froze stiff. Jens called to him.
“Mr. Barenkow? Viktor Barenkow? Police?”
No sooner had the man heard the word police than he turned around and ran away. We dashed after him. When we came around the pile of scrap cars, we just saw the man storm up the outside staircase of a three-story building.
“Stop, police!”
You can try it. The fugitive, however, remained unimpressed by this request and rushed through a door at the end of the stairs into the building. My boss and I ran towards the building, when the man reappeared in the door and held something in his hands that looked very threatening. I immediately recognized what it was.
Shit, he's got an AK!
In the next moment, the bullets from the Kalashnikov were already flying around our ears. Fortunately, the guy shot from the hip, which was anything but beneficial for accuracy. Jens and I jumped behind junk cars for cover and drew our weapons.
Barenkow, give up, you won't get out of here!
In reply, bullets again struck the metal sheet protecting my superior.
Damn. If he has enough ammunition, we won't get to him that easily.
We should call for reinforcements and have the area sealed off. Not there! He'll just slip away from us.
Machlitzke grinned maliciously.
“At least he can't do that. I know the building well, it's an old coal bunker with the office on top. The only access is these stairs. And whether he's got an AK or not, he won't be able to get out.”
At least there's some good news.
Nevertheless, you're right, we'll call for backup. I'm not going up against an assault rifle with a pistol, I'd rather call the SEK.
My superior reached for his cell phone, opened it and swore.
“Damn, no signal here. What's yours saying?”
Unfortunately, exactly the same. No wonder, we used the same network.
“Chief, I'll run to the car and do it over the radio.”
Machlitzke looked around thoughtfully. The terrain looked good, I would always have cover on the way.
Okay, I'll cover you. Are you ready?
Yes, on three.
My companion nodded, and I started counting.
One, two, three!
We both jumped up, and while Jens fired several shots in the direction of the building where Barenkow had barricaded himself, I stormed off.
It worked. By the time the first shots rang out from the Kalashnikov, I had long since rounded the protective corner and was running to our patrol car for safe cover. Once there, I tried again with the cell phone, but there was no reception there either. Well, then it would have to be over the open radio. Even at the risk of the place being swarming with reporters. I turned the device on and reached for the microphone. A patrol car was just asking a car owner for information, I couldn't wait.
“Radio free! Lion two?”
The babble in the ether immediately died down and the radio center answered.
“Dispatcher, Lion 2?
“Seven-twenty-three?”
“Zwo here!”
“Location, Barenkow car dealership, Zwieselstrasse. We're being shot at with an automatic weapon and urgently require the SWAT team.”
Fittingly, the next salvo from the AK sounded in the background.
“Received, reinforcement and SWAT are on their way!”
There we go.
Seven-twenty-three, thank you and out.
I got out of the car again and went to the trunk. From it, I took two bulletproof vests, putting one on immediately. From the secret compartment, I took the Heckler & Koch MP5, which would at least create a small degree of equality in terms of weapons. Of course, a submachine gun was inferior to an assault rifle in everything except handiness. I loaded it, and at that moment I already heard the siren of the first backup car. Shortly thereafter, it came to a screeching halt next to me, and the two uniformed colleagues jumped out. I didn't know them, so I introduced myself.
Altman, Homicide. My boss is pinned back there, in the building at the end of the site, a murder suspect with a Kalashnikov is squatting.
Nice shit. Are we going in?
Yes, we're going in, but not in. That's for the SEK to do.
Thank God.
The colleagues were already wearing protective vests, and one of them already had the patrol car's submachine gun in his hand.
“Let's go, show us where to go.”
We dashed to the edge of the scrap pile, behind which the danger zone began. I looked around carefully and saw that my boss was keeping an eye on the building's door several meters above the ground. I blew a short whistle and he looked over at me. I gave him the thumbs up sign to let him know I was coming back to him. He nodded and looked back at the building. I turned to the crew.
“I want you to take a quick look around the corner so you can get the lay of the land.”
They did just that and I continued.
“He's firing from the door at the end of the stairs.”
“Is he alone?”
“It seems so, we haven't seen any other people.”
“Good. You want to go out again?”
“Yes. Cover me with the HK, okay?”
“All right.”
The sequence of a few minutes ago was repeated. On the count of three, I charged forward, while my colleague in the camouflage gear opened fire with the MP. In response, a few shots came from the building, but they were completely untargeted, so I reached the cover behind which my boss was waiting without any problems.
“Here, I brought you something.”
Jens gratefully accepted the bulletproof vest, even though it wouldn't provide any real protection against a shot from an assault rifle.
“I'll try to talk to him again.”
“Okay.”
I took aim with the MP while my superior cautiously peeked over the cover.
“Barenkow, give up! You're surrounded, the SWAT team is about to arrive. You don't stand a chance!”
In response, bullets again pelted our cover of steel and sheet metal, so we decided to keep our heads down.
“He seems to want to shoot it out, boss.”
“It certainly looks that way. And if he's killed Brauner, he's got little to lose.”
Unfortunately, it looked like that, so we waited for the arrival of the special task force and kept an eye on the stairs leading out of the building. Ten minutes later, our heavily armed and armored colleagues arrived. The officer-in-charge came running to us in zigzags.
“Hiya. What have you got for us?”
Machlitzke filled him in.
“A murder suspect firing an AK?”
“Great. What about other exits?”
“There aren't any; the only way in or out is through those stairs.”
“Well, at least that's something. Should we go in or do you want to try again in a friendly way?”
We laughed softly.
“His response to our attempts at being friendly has always been lead.”
“All right. I'll call in my people, entry in fifteen minutes.”
While the SWAT leader was sorting and informing his men, surprisingly no more shots were fired, although there was a lot of movement as the officers approached. I looked questioningly at Jens.
“Do you think he's out of ammo?”
I'd rather not count on that. We'll stick with the SEK. You know how to use that thing, don't you?
He pointed to the machine pistol in my hands.
.48 from fifty the last time we practiced.?
.Very nice.?
The clock continued to tick mercilessly, and then the time had come. The officer in charge turned to us again.
“We're going in in one minute.”
“Okay, we'll follow your lead.”
He didn't seem particularly thrilled by the announcement, but he didn't object either.
“Agreed. But if there's a shootout, you'll have to hit the dirt.”
We promised to do that, then got ready to go. Ten seconds to go?
“Go, go, go!”
Some of the SWAT team members rushed out from behind their cover, while others pointed their weapons at the door opening. When no one fired immediately, Jens and I also jumped up and followed our colleagues. We quickly covered the distance to the building, where we then felt our way up the stairs along the wall of the building. There was still no reaction from Barenkow. Very strange.
The first SWAT team members had reached the door and jumped into the building. Shortly afterwards, the first shouts were heard.
“Left secure!”
“Right secure!”
The next officers stormed in, followed by the officer-in-charge and Jens and me.
“Rear secure!”
“All rooms secured!”
That went a lot smoother than I had feared. No shootout at OK Corral? I secured the MP and looked around when the SEK officer-in-charge came back out of the back rooms.
“I'm sorry, but your bird has flown.”
Jens was stunned.
How is that possible? There is no other exit here!
At that moment, a shout came from one of the back rooms.
“Over here!”
We rushed to the officer who had called out. He was standing in front of an open window. Jens looked at the scene in disbelief.
“That can't be, it's at least 8 meters to the ground!”
The officer pointed to a piece of rope hanging from the radiator.
“He tried it with a rope ladder. With the emphasis on *tried*.”
When we stepped to the window and looked out, we recoiled in shock. On the ground, actually 25 or more feet below us, was a hunched figure, next to it a Kalashnikov and on top of it a rope ladder. Without a word, my boss turned around and stormed out of the building, with me close on his heels. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we ran into KHK Berger.
“Did you get him?”
You could say that. What are you doing here?
I heard about the shooting on the radio and came right over. Where is Barenkow?
Come on.
We went around the building, and when Berger saw the “down-and-out figure,” he let out a small cry.
Oh, shit. Did he jump out or what?
After a few steps, we had reached the AK gunner and my boss grabbed the rope ladder lying on top of him. The end of it looked badly frayed. Either it had been damaged before or Barenkow had simply been too heavy for it.
“He didn't hop, he wanted to rappel. And I idiot didn't even think of that possibility.
And if he hadn't been working with inferior equipment, he might even have made a successful escape. While I was looking at the windowless rear wall of the building on the first two or three floors, KHK Berger crouched down next to the would-be climber.
“Hm. Two things, Jens. First: he's dead. Second: it's not Barenkow.”
I jerked around, just in time to see the now completely flabbergasted face of my boss.
“Not Barenkow? Then why did he run away when we addressed him as Barenkow?”
No idea, but that's definitely not Viktor. He looks familiar, I think he's one of his errand boys. I can't remember his name, I'll have to look at the files again.
The story was becoming increasingly opaque.
Boss, maybe it wasn't Barenkow who killed Brauner? If this is Viktor's errand boy, maybe he overheard something about the diamond deal and wanted to give himself a little pay raise.
It's possible, but on the other hand, Brauner had an appointment with Barenkow today.
At that moment, my superior's cell phone rang.
Machlitzke.
He listened tensely into the receiver.
“Good work, thanks!”
He ended the call.
“Sasha, your theory just went down the drain. Barenkov's fingerprints were on the rolling pin.”
Damn. Why did this idiot shoot up the place like that?
We should go up and take a look around the office. Maybe we'll find a clue to Viktor's whereabouts.
So we went back to the premises from which there had been such wild shooting at us. There we split up and began to look around thoroughly. I found a lot of documents on the desk about the scrap and car trade, but nothing that helped us in any way. My luck only changed when I looked at the trash.
“Boss, I've got something!”
Both Jens and the colleague from the OV came to me. I triumphantly showed them a letter.
“What is it, big guy?
A booking confirmation from the railroad. Barenkow bought a ticket for the Moscow Express on the Internet and it was sent to him by mail.
Well done, Sascha! Does it also say when the ticket is for?
I read the text more closely and was flabbergasted.
For today!
Damn, what time?
4:33 p.m.?
We looked at our watches in unison. It was already shortly before half past three, we would have to hurry.
“We have to go to the train station, and we need a photo of Barenkow!”
“I have one with me, and I'll come with you, I'll recognize him even without it.”
“Good, then let's go!”
We dashed to our cars and shortly thereafter we were speeding through the increasingly dense afternoon traffic toward the main train station with the lights flashing and sirens blaring. On the way, I had an idea.
Shouldn't we inform the federal police? They could do a massive search of the platform.
Jens thought about it briefly.
I thought of that too, but I'd rather not. If Barenkow is as crazy as his henchman, then he might be heavily armed. With all the people at the station, it could be a disaster. We should try to keep this as inconspicuous as possible.”
That was a good point. We finally arrived at the main station, left our cars at the taxi stand and rushed into the building. While we were walking up to the cross-platform, Berger showed us a picture of our killer. Once at the top, my boss stopped our rush.
“We'd better keep going inconspicuously now.” Sascha, which platform do we have to go to?”
I looked at the electronic display.
“Platform 9?”
“Okay, let's go. We'll split up. Sascha, you go in at the front and go through the train. Sven, you go quickly to the other end and start from there. I'll take the platform. And remember, it's dangerous, so be careful.”
We made our way to the platform at a brisk pace, but without running. There were still 20 minutes to go before the train's departure. I entered the first carriage through the open door. The train was already quite full, and many travelers were carrying heavy luggage. It would not be easy to make our way through the packed carriages.
I laboriously worked my way forward, but even after three wagons I still hadn't spotted Barenkow. And the train was getting more and more crowded. Hopefully one of the other two would have more success! With a sigh, I pushed myself further along, bumping into an elderly man.
“Excuse me.
“Job twoju mat!?
Fuck your mother? How nice. I shot the guy an angry look, who glared grimly back from under his moustache. Well, I didn't have time for this, I turned around and kept walking. But suddenly something twitched in my brain. The nose seemed somehow familiar. But the beard? And the blond hair? On the other hand, you can glue on a beard and dye your hair. I turned around to the friendly guy again and scrutinized him. And the more I scrutinized him, the more I became convinced that this was Viktor Barenkow!
Unfortunately, he noticed my close inspection of his person. There was a train carriage door just two meters away, and through it he jumped onto the intermediate platform. I rushed after him.
Barenkow, stop, police!
I drew my service pistol while running. Caution is the mother of the porcelain box. However, the pursued man did not even think about stopping or attacking me; he continued running in the direction of the transverse platform, probably hoping to disappear into the crowds there.
However, I caught up with him quite quickly, my legs were probably 15 to 20 years younger than his. When he looked back at me just before reaching the cross-platform, fate struck in the form of a small dog that ran in front of his feet and caused him to fall. Three seconds later, while he was still trying to get up, I pounced on him.
“Nice and still.” Viktor Barenkow, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Harald Brauner.”
I sat formally on his back, put away my pistol and reached for the handcuffs, which I also put on him right away. In the meantime, two rather haggard federal police officers had arrived.
“What's going on here?”
I reached into my jacket pocket and showed them my ID.
Altmann, Leipzig CID. I've just arrested a murder suspect. Can you make an announcement over the loudspeaker on platform 9?
Yes, no problem.
Good. Please announce that Chief Inspector Machlitzke and Chief Inspector Berger are to go to the transverse platform, the operation is over.
All right?
One of the officers spoke into his radio, and shortly afterwards the announcement was made over the loudspeaker. A few minutes later, the two officers puffed up to us, panting for air. When my boss saw the secured Barenkow, a broad smile stole across his face.
“You caught him? Great, Sascha! Any problems with that?
No, he wanted to go AWOL, but then stumbled over one of those little barkers, and that was that.
Great. Where exactly did you find him?
I pointed to the still-open carriage door at the intermediate platform.
In there, to the left, he was standing in front of the second compartment.
Good, then we'll go and see if we can find his luggage.
Machlitzke turned to the two station policemen.
“You'd best come with me, and please make sure that the train doesn't leave for the time being.”
“The railroad won't be pleased about this.”
“There's nothing we can do about it; we'll hurry too.”
One of the officers spoke into his radio again, and shortly thereafter the loudspeakers announced that the Moscow Express would probably be 10 minutes late in departing. On the way back to the carriage, KHK Berger looked back and forth between me and Barenkow. Then he shook his head.
He has changed quite a bit. How did you recognize him? I think I would have just walked past him.
I probably would have, but he insulted me, so I looked a second time. Still, I kept walking at first, but then I remembered the nose.
This nose had been broken once and was slightly crooked on his face, and that was a feature that couldn't be easily hidden.
“Good work, Sascha. Wouldn't you like to come to my OV?”
Jens jumped at the chance.
“I heard that, Sven! Leave Sascha alone, he's mine!”
Berger raised his hands in defense.
“All right, all right, it was worth a try.”
In the meantime, we had reached the carriage and got back on the train. In the compartment in front of which Barenkow had been standing when I bumped into him, two more people were sitting, an extremely old couple. Machlitzke entered with a friendly smile.
“Hello, police. Please tell me, was this gentleman here in this compartment earlier?”
The two old people looked a little frightened, and the man answered in broken German.
“Yes, he was sitting here.”
My superior smiled even more broadly.
“Can you tell me what his belongings are?”
With a trembling hand, the grandfather pointed to a suitcase and a travel bag. Jens grabbed the suitcase and handed it to me outside, and he himself grabbed the travel bag. Then he turned to the old people again.
“Does he own anything else in this compartment?”
The two shook their heads.
“Good. Thank you for your cooperation. I wish you a pleasant journey!”
With these friendly words, we left the compartment and then the train. During the whole event, the arrested man had not said a word, he had only glared around angrily and made no further escape attempt.
“So everything's been taken care of here. The train can leave now.”
The federal police officer with the radio announced this, while Machlitzke used his cell phone to call for a patrol car to take Barenkow to the police station. It was now 4:40 p.m.
When we arrived at the police station, we immediately began the first interrogation. After we had presented the evidence to Barenkow, especially his fingerprints on the murder weapon, he quickly broke his silence to make it clear to us that it was not murder but 'only' manslaughter. Shortly after 6 p.m., he was taken to his cell. Our case was solved. Satisfied, we leaned back in our chairs.
“That went really well today. I didn't think we'd be able to wrap things up on the same day.”
Something like that was really quite rare.
But Sascha, you should hurry now. You have an appointment at the theater. Not there? You've stood up your Derek and then he gets angry at you. Then I'll have the next murder on my hands, and actually I want to call it a day now.
Hallelujah! My boss had used my boyfriend's real name! But he was right, I really had to hurry. Especially since I still had to change. And I could also use a quick shower. So I said goodbye and rushed home. I did everything in a rush, and I arrived at the theater right on time. I spotted Derek from afar, and when he finally saw me, he came running towards me and jumped right into my arms.
“There you are! I was already afraid you would let me down.”
I cuddled my little one properly.
“I promised you that I would be there, didn't I?”
Happy, he looked at me with his big brown eyes.
“Yes, you did. Let's go in?”
There was no way around it, so I let him drag me to the theater. When we took our seats, there were still ten minutes to go before the performance began.
“How's your case going? Did the laptop data help you?”
“Yes, it did. It was a great help. We were able to arrest the culprit earlier.”
Come on, tell me! What exactly happened?
My little one was always very interested when it came to my work, so I told him how we had tracked down Barenkov. When I got to the scene at the junkyard, Derek started to turn pale.
He shot at you?
I gently took him in my arms.
Yes, but I'm fine.
Damn it, promise me you'll always take care of yourself!
I did him the favor, then I continued to the end.
But why did he have this... what's-his-name, the brown one? Why did he kill him?
He claims it was an accident. Brauner suddenly wanted an extra $10,000 for the blood diamonds, and that's when it came to the fight. Supposedly, Brauner attacked him with a knife, so Barenkow grabbed the rolling pin and bashed him over the skull with it. When he realized that Brauner was dead, he panicked and set the place on fire. Then he dyed his hair and stuck on a fake beard. Since he was going to Russia today anyway, he thought he could just leave. But he hadn't reckoned on the data on the laptop.
And this Brauner was terminally ill?
Yes, he probably wanted to have a nice last few weeks with the money. Well, no chance. But I think it's starting now.
And sure enough, the lights dimmed and the play began. Derek was quickly captivated by the action, but I had trouble staying awake. The day had been exhausting. I wondered if I could bill the theater visit as overtime. After all, it was about murder and mayhem, so it was basically continuing education, right?
When we left the theater late that evening, my little darling was still completely wired.
“Do you want to stop somewhere for a beer?”
I grimaced in agony.
“Hey, don't be mad at me, but I've had a long day. Actually, I just want to go to bed.”
A cheeky grin appeared on Derek's face.
“Do you want to spend the night at my place?”
Suddenly I wasn't that tired anymore. I grinned back.
“Are your parents there?”
“Nope, they're out of town, so we have the house to ourselves.”
How promising.
“Well, let's go then!”
Fifteen minutes later we reached Derek's apartment, and another ten minutes later I was crawling naked into his bed while my boyfriend was still taking his clothes off. What was that? My feet had bumped into something. I bent over and pulled it out from under the duvet. The next moment I was shaking with laughter. I held a hot water bottle in my hand. And another one in bright pink!
“Tell me, what is that?”
Derek grinned.
“Well, something has to keep me warm when you're not there.”
“I get that, but this? This looks really gay! And I thought you were the one with an eye for beauty in our relationship.”
I am, after all I chose YOU. And I'd rather give this thing up today than tomorrow. But I can't do that until we move in together and you warm me every night?
Damn, I think we should really do that soon. I flung the rubber thing out of bed and Derek slipped under the covers with me?
Half an hour later I fell asleep and had a wild dream full of rolling pins, laptops, rope ladders, train tickets and not to forget pink bed bottles. That had been just a single day in my life, and it had provided material for at least half a novel!
Grinning, I tapped on the call acceptance of my cell phone's hands-free system. A few days ago, Derek had put this ringtone of an ancient hit on the device and assigned it to his own number, so it was clear who was calling.
“Hello darling”
Hi Sascha. Tell me, what are you doing right now
I'm stuck in traffic on the A9 just before the Schkeuditzer Kreuz. Why
Okay, then you probably have a little time for me.
I always have time for you, don't I
Haha, that'd be nice. Listen, I got two theater tickets from a customer for Othello.
Crap, not again. I wasn't a big fan of the theater, unfortunately Derek was quite the opposite. I suppressed the sigh that was already on the tip of my tongue.
“And when”
“That's the problem, it's tonight. Do you have time?”
This was THE opportunity to put in some overtime! On the other hand, Derek was so sweet that I couldn't really say no.
“I think so. When and where?”
“At eight at the theater. Can you make it?”
“I'll manage.” ”Should I dress up?”
“Well, it can be a little more than your usual jeans and T-shirt.”
I had suspected it.
Okay. Shall we meet at the entrance at half past seven?
Yes, great! Thanks, Sascha!
I could literally feel Derek smiling contentedly. What wouldn't I do for the boy.
Okay, then, see you tonight.
We said goodbye and I ended the connection. Theater. Argh! Othello? I had heard of it, but please don't ask me what it was about. Theater things went in one ear and out the other for me. But wait, there was something. I had to grin, a famous Saxon joke crept through my brain: “What's the difference between a kettle and Othello?” “In the Gessl, the tea is boiling, in the Odello, the tea is done!”
Rrrrrrring! Rrrrrrring!
It was like being at a telephone exchange today! This ringtone, however, did not bode well; it sounded official.
Altmann.
Sascha, where are you?
Always the same questions.
At the Schkeuditzer Kreuz.
Get dressed and go to Nürnberger Straße 32.
What's going on there?
? There's a flat on fire and the police found a dead body.?
That's not uncommon. However, it was usually not a job for us, there had to be more to it than that.
?And?
?The cause of death was probably neither the fire nor the smoke inhalation.?
Ah yes, so it was a job for us after all.
?Okay, I'm on my way.?
I rolled down the window next to me and stuck the blue strobe light on the car roof. I also put on the appropriate music, and as if by magic, the road in front of me was cleared. Okay, unfortunately it wasn't quite that smooth, but at least I wasn't stationary anymore.
Maybe this would be a good time to introduce myself. Allow me, Sascha Altmann. Detective Inspector Sascha Altmann, to be precise. Employed at the Leipzig CID in the “crimes against the person” department, also known as the homicide division in everyday German. 25-year-old teenager, tall, slim, blond, gay. Well, after the phone call with Derek, that was probably already clear anyway. We had known each other for half a year, and we were slowly approaching the point where we would start living together.
Damn, that stupid chick! Blind and deaf! She just pulls into the lane in front of me. And with a Smart. If I hadn't slammed on the brakes, my heavy BMW would have pushed this little box so hard that she would have ended up on the new runway at the nearby airport. That would have meant more paperwork!
Luckily, I was now slowly getting out of the traffic jam, and soon I really had a clear run all the way into the center of Leipzig. From a distance, I saw the flashing blue lights of the fire department when I turned into the one-way street leading to the scene of the crime. Shortly thereafter, I parked the car behind a green-white Passat. The house looked like a rather dark hut, so I should probably take my torch with me. As I got out, I spotted the first familiar face and greeted the uniformed colleague who was taking care of the roadblock.
“Hi Berni.”
“Hi Sascha. It took you a long time, your boat's been there for ages.”
I had the longest way, I was already in Weißenfels today, to deliver evidence.
Poor you. Well, have fun in there, everything is destroyed.
Luckily I was wearing black trousers. I marched to the entrance, through which two fire hoses were still winding. One of the firefighters came towards me.
“Where do you think you're going?”
“Altmann, CID. Where do I have to go?”
“Got it. Second floor on the left. You can't miss it, just follow the smell.”
This was getting better and better. I fought my way up the soaking wet stairs and entered the affected apartment shortly thereafter. The colleagues from the fire department had apparently arrived quickly at the scene and were able to limit the fire to the apartment. That was a good thing, otherwise the wooden staircase in this run-down old building would have caused huge problems.
I went deeper into the apartment and spotted my “Big Chief” looking through the third door.
“Hi boss.”
“Hello Sascha, you're finally here.”
I made an offended face.
“Boss, it's not even nine o'clock and I've already been to Weißenfels?”
Detective Chief Inspector Machlitzke grinned.
“I'm only joking. You were pretty quick from the Schkeuditzer Kreuz to here.”
Well, I wanted to say that too!
“What do we have here?”
Jens (that's my boss's first name) pointed invitingly to the far left corner of the room.
“Take a look for yourself.”
I entered the room and went to where another familiar face was standing next to a slightly charred human body.
“Hello, Doc?”
“Sascha?”
Yikes, that really wasn't a particularly pretty sight. A man, apparently middle-aged, with his clothes partially burned into his skin, was lying on the floor in a contorted position.
“Cause of death?”
“Definitely not the fire, he was already dead.” ”Take a look at his head.”
I could have done without that, but it was all in a day's work, so I squatted down next to the body. Hm. The prompt arrival of the fire brigade had ensured that some things were still clearly visible. For example, the huge dent above the left temple.
“Fall or blow?”
“Blow from a blunt instrument, I'd say. You'd have to fall awkwardly to catch something like that.”
That finally made it clear why my team had been requested. I rose again and went over to Jens.
“Murder with arson to cover up?”
“It certainly looks that way. Murder or manslaughter. Smell it?”
I sniffed. Through the overpowering smell of burning and the stench of burnt flesh, I now detected another faint smell.
“Fire accelerant?”
“Exactly. That blob over there looks like a melted petrol can.”
I looked around the room a little.
“But it can't have been full, otherwise the F wouldn't have had a chance.”
“You're right, big guy, there were probably only a few drops left.”
“He probably only found it here and didn't bring any with him. Unplanned? More like manslaughter, right?”
That's one of the things we need to find out. Take a look around, maybe you'll find something interesting.
That's exactly what I did. I put on gloves, turned on my flashlight and began to examine the surroundings. In the room with the body, presumably the living room, fire and the water used to extinguish the fire had left a trail of destruction. Or was there more?
“Boss, did F live like this?”
“Nah, they say they barely touched anything.”
“Then there must have been a real fight, the way the furniture is lying around.”
Right. Pa? Watch where you're stepping, or you'll step on the murder weapon.
Gosh, I'm not a rookie anymore!
Well, hopefully.
I carefully picked my way through the remains of a dining table and the chairs. Hm. Big dent in the head. A chair leg? But they all still seemed to be attached to the corresponding chairs. I continued picking. Wait a minute. What was that? Carefully, I uncovered a larger piece of wood in the field of debris. Wow. It looked like I had struck gold! The thing had apparently been somewhat protected from the fire by the debris above it, at least it looked quite intact, and it wasn't even slightly charred. Those dark spots weren't burnt, they looked like blood!
“Jens!”
KHK Machlitzke was next to me in a flash.
“Did you find something?”
“Yes, it looks like it. Could it be the murder weapon?”
Jens stared at my find in amazement.
“A rolling pin?”
Despite the macabre situation, I had to laugh.
“With this, we have narrowed down the potential circle of perpetrators to mother-in-law and wife.”
Now my boss was laughing too.
“It would be nice if it were that simple. But good work, Sascha.”
Doc, who had joined us in the meantime, confirmed this.
“Yes, that could well be the case. The size fits the head injury in any case. But I won't be able to say anything more precise until later.”
Sure thing, Doc. Time of death?
The man addressed frowned.
I'm sorry, Jens, it's hard to say at this stage. The sooner I have the body on the table, the sooner you'll get more precise information.
All right, Doc. I'll make sure he's delivered to you as quickly as possible.
Thanks. I'll get out of your way then, there's nothing more for me to do here. Have fun, you two.
With these words, the coroner disappeared, and Jens looked at me.
Call the cold hand, they can come and clear up.
I did as I was told and called the hearse on my cell phone. The poor bastards would also enjoy their customer. Then I joined Jens, who was still looking around the apartment. Unfortunately, we didn't find anything that would have given us a quick lead on the possible culprit. However, my boss did discover a laptop behind an overturned chair.
“Let's see if it still works.”
He made a move to press the power button.
“Don't, Jens!”
He looked at me in astonishment.
“Why not? I just want to see if it still works. Maybe we'll find some information that will help us.”
I looked at the device doubtfully. It looked pretty worn out. The casing was splintered around the monitor, slightly charred in another place, and the extinguishing water had also contributed to the destruction.
“If you try to turn it on, it could give it a final blow.”
Shit, you're probably right. But if I send it to the LKA lab, I won't get the results until sometime between Christmas and New Year's. And I'm deliberately not saying when.?
I had to laugh. Since Machlitzke had convicted a high-ranking LKA official of murdering his lover two or three years ago, the relationship between him and his colleagues there had been more than just a little strained.
“I have a better idea, boss.”
“So?” ”Fire away!”
The thing is too big even for the LKA guys, they pass something like that on to external data recovery experts.
What are you getting at? Wait, isn't your better half a computer guru?
That's right, he works at Data Rescue, and sooner or later the schlepp would end up on his desk anyway.
Jens' face cleared up a bit.
“Hm, you mean we could foist it on him directly?” Some people would get pretty huffy about that, saying it was bypassing the official channels.
Then he laughed.
“Oh, screw the official channels. Hildebrand?”
One of the forensic technicians who had arrived in the meantime rushed over.
“Yes, boss?”
“Take a quick look and see if you can find any tracks on this thing so we can send it to the data recovery lab.”
“You got it.”
The technician took the laptop and disappeared with it in the direction of the mobile lab. Jens turned back to me.
“Can you take this directly to your Devon?”
Derek, not Devon. Yes, I think so. He owes me a big favor anyway.
Machlitzke looked at me curiously.
What for? Or should I, an innocent heterosexual, not ask this question?
I answered him, laughing.
Hehe, it's harmless. He's taking me to the theater tonight, to see Othello.
Sounds good to me, you cultural barbarian. I should do something like that with my wife again sometime.
Sorry, but that's really not my thing. But maybe I'll have to work overtime tonight after all?
I looked hopefully at my superior, but he shook his head and grinned.
“Nothing. Especially now that we have to keep your Dennis happy so that he will help us.”
“Derek!”
“All right, all right. So go on, beat it. As soon as Hildebrand is done with the forensics, you go to your sweetheart and wheedle the thing out of him.”
“All right, boss. Should I come back here afterwards?”
No, go straight to the office, I'll be on my way soon too. There's not much more I can do here, the rest has to be done by the forensic police.
So I left the unpleasant crime scene and walked down to the street, where I got into the forensics van. The technician present was just leaning over the laptop.
“Find anything, Werner?”
“Three pretty messed-up fingerprints and half a handprint. But I can't promise that they'll be usable in the end.”
“But you'll try?”
“Sure, I'll do my best.” ”Well, I'm done, you can take it with you.”
“Great.”
I grabbed the laptop, which had also been cleaned a bit in the meantime. After I had stowed it safely in the car, I set off for my sweetheart's company. Hm. Maybe I should warn him. I tapped the speed dial for his cell phone. After a half rings, he was already on and I heard his cheerful voice.
“Hello Sascha, missing me already?”
I laughed.
“I'm ALWAYS missing you when we're not together.”
“You old flatterer. I hope for your sake that you're not calling to cancel tonight!”
I sighed.
“No, but I'm planning an attack on you.”
Shoot.?
I need your expert help. We have a damaged laptop here, and we urgently need to access the data. If we leave it to the LKA, it will take forever and a day.?
How badly damaged??
Badly, I'd say. Fall, fire and extinguishing water.?
Derek groaned.
You don't do things by halves, do you? And knowing you, should I drop everything else?
I had to grin, he knew me just way too well.
That would be VERY nice!
All right, I can take a look at the thing. When will you be here?
I looked around briefly, the traffic was flowing quite well.
Five to ten minutes, I don't need any longer.?
Okay, I'll clear the table. See you in a moment.?
We finished the call, and about seven minutes later I pulled into the Data Rescue company parking lot. After getting the laptop out of the trunk, I entered the office building and wanted to take the familiar route to Derek's office – but I hadn't reckoned with the dragon behind the reception desk.
“Where do you think you're going?”
I looked around. Oh God, where had Data Rescue found that old hag? Shouldn't a receptionist be welcoming customers in a friendly manner? I decided to answer with a counter question.
“Where is Ms. D?lke?”
She is on vacation, I am the substitute. So, where do you want to go? You can't just walk in here!
So, I can't? That would be a first.
You are the substitute? I see. Tell me, do you know Mr. Prosch by any chance?
Of course, he is one of the managing directors!
Well, at least she knew that much.
“Great. Firstly, I'm his friend, secondly I have an appointment and thirdly, I'm convinced that he wouldn't be particularly thrilled if he knew what kind of tone you use when addressing potential customers!”
The dragon's face grew longer and longer, but no further sounds came, so I turned around again and three minutes later I was in my darling's office/laboratory.
“Hi Derek?”
“Sascha?”
He rushed over to me, carefully took the laptop from me and placed it on a table, and then gave me a not-so-careful hug. Oh God, I had such a crush on this crazy little brown-haired guy! About three hours later, we managed to let go of each other. Well, it wasn't quite three hours. Strictly speaking, it was much too short. But duty called.
“So this is my new patient?”
“Yes. What do you think, can you fix him?”
Derek looked curiously at the laptop.
“Has anyone already tampered with it?”
No, I just managed to stop Jens from turning it on.
Very good, then there is hope. Where did you get it?
It was found in the room of a murdered man, in which the murderer started a fire to cover up his crime.
I briefly told Derek about my latest case. He sighed.
Nice. How soon do you need a result?
Let me think. Until yesterday?
He looked at me reproachfully.
Okay, until the day before yesterday?
Stupid! All right, I'll get right on it and get back to you when I've found something.
That would be really very nice of you, darling.
I'll do anything for you. But we're still going to Othello tonight, right?
Yes, of course!
I preferred to just think the word 'unfortunately' to myself. I said goodbye to Derek, threw a friendly 'see you' at the reception dragon on my way out, got in the car and drove to the office. I arrived at practically the same time as my boss and together we went upstairs to the office.
'What does David say, can he fix the laptop?
Derek! His name is Derek! And he'll do his best, won't he?”
“Well, hopefully, we didn't find anything useful in the apartment. But maybe Eva already has something?”
Eva Schl?ter, a detective sergeant, was confined to a wheelchair after a serious accident and has since done everything she could from her desk. Sure enough, we found her happily hacking away at her computer keyboard.
“Hi, Eva.”
“Hello, Sascha.”
After the greeting, we sat down on our chairs and looked expectantly at the only female being in the room.
“Well, I've already found out a few things. The tenant of the apartment is called Harald Brauner, 43 years old, with a criminal record. The Organized Crime Department has a thick file on him, covering everything from human smuggling to counterfeiting. But he was always just one of the small fry. Here, there is also a photo.
Eva pointed to the large flat screen on the wall. Hm, well I couldn't say whether that was our burnt corpse. It could be, but it didn't have to be. Jens seemed to feel the same way.
It could be the victim, but I wouldn't want to make any definite statements. Of course, it was his apartment, so there are a few things that point in that direction.
Probably. It would be a pretty big coincidence if someone who looked somewhat similar to the tenant was found beaten to death in a stranger's apartment.
Are there any current investigations against him?
No, boss. Brauner only got out of prison six weeks ago and he hasn't shown up since then.
Hm. Anyway, please check with the OV, maybe they can give us some advice on where we should look.
I'll do that, boss.
Sascha and I are going to the cafeteria first, we both haven't had a decent breakfast yet.
Breakfast? I looked at my watch, it was already just after eleven. How time flies.
Do you want us to get you something?
No, thanks, I'll go to lunch with the girls later.
Machlitzke and I went to the annexe where the cafeteria was located. It was reasonably empty; breakfast was over and lunch was just beginning. We got ourselves something to eat, then sat down at one of the many free tables.
What do you think, Jens? A criminal with a thick police record, a murder, it all fits together, doesn't it?
My boss looked thoughtfully at his plate.
Yes, it seems so. This could be a pretty big deal if there are any gang-related issues involved. It would be really damn important, your Detlef?
Derek!
? whatever, that he finds something on the laptop. I'll have the apartment searched again with the finest comb, maybe something will turn up there after all.
We talked a little more before we headed back to the office around half past twelve. Eva already had news for us there.
Doc called and sent us the victim's fingerprints. There wasn't much left to get, the fingers were pretty charred, but there's an 85 percent probability that it's Brauner. He's also doing a tooth comparison, but that'll take time, he needs the prison doctor's files first.
Well, that's enough to work with the hypothesis that the dead man is actually Harald Brauner. Have you heard anything from the police yet?
No, they were quite surprised that he's out again. Actually, he still had a year and a half to go.
Very funny. At that moment, my cell phone rang with the familiar melody, which made the other two present laugh. I quickly accepted the call.
“Yes?”
“Hello darling. Pay attention, the laptop was not as damaged as it looked from the outside. I was able to read almost the entire hard drive and burned everything onto a DVD. One of our field representatives should arrive in about a quarter of an hour, he has the laptop and the DVD with him.
Wow, you're great! I didn't think it would be so fast.
As I said, the damage wasn't as bad as it could have been. So then, see you tonight.
Thanks a lot, kid!
Grinning, I hung up and looked into the expectant faces of my colleagues.
“The broad grin on your face means that Daniel must have found something.”
“Derek!”
This time my objection to defacing the name of my beloved was supported by Eve in stereo.
“Yes, yes, all right. Come on, what is it now?”
He was able to copy almost all the data. We'll get the laptop back in a few minutes, along with a DVD containing the data from the hard drive.
Great! I hope this helps us. You'd better go downstairs and accept delivery of the stuff right away.
I followed the instructions and twenty minutes later I re-entered the office. I immediately gave the DVD to Eve.
“Here, see what you can do with this.”
Our computer expert immediately plunged into the work, and while she was doing so, the door opened and KHK Berger from the Organized Crime Division entered.
“Hi. I heard you're working on one of my patients?”
Well, actually Doc is working on him, and I wouldn't call him a patient anymore. Do you have anything that could help us?
Not much that you don't already have, but at least I found out why he was released from prison already.
We looked at our visitor curiously.
“Terminal bowel cancer, the doctors gave him three to six months.”
He hadn't even reached the three months. But that explained the early release from prison. And maybe Brauner should be happy that he had been spared the last phase of his illness.
“According to the files, Brauner wasn't a big shot, was he?”
Nah, he was always just a henchman. And always the one who got caught and busted. But he never ratted on his backers.
So no revenge among old business partners?
I don't think so. Like I said, he didn't betray anyone, and he was far too insignificant to make himself a mortal enemy.
At least not until today.
Exactly, Jens. I'll let you get back to work. Please let me know when you've found something, okay?
Machlitzke promised him, then it was just the three of us in the office again.
Guys, I've got something!
We immediately rushed to Eva, who was staring intently at her computer monitor.
“Here, his email program. He has been communicating with a Viktor Barenkow for the last two weeks.”
Something about the name rang a bell in my head, but I couldn't place it.
“And here, he wanted to meet with him this morning, at his apartment! Brauner wanted to collect 50,000 dollars from Barenkow for something.”
Jens winced.
“I get it. Viktor Barenkow. He runs a car and scrap yard somewhere out in Lönig. Supposedly he's into car smuggling, but they could never prove it.”
Thoughtfully, I looked at the monitor.
“Did Brauner want to blackmail him with it?”
It's possible. But wait a minute, there's something else here. In this e-mail Brauner mentions some stones. I think he wanted to sell them to Barenkow for the fifty thousand.?
Our boss picked up the phone and dialled a speed-dial number.
“Sven? Jens here. Say, Brauner in connection with some stones, does that ring a bell?”
Jens listened for a moment, then switched to speaker.
“Say that again, please, so the others can hear.”
KHK Berger's voice came through.
“Just before his last arrest, Brauner was involved in a blood diamond deal. Maybe that's what they mean by stones?”
An interesting theory. Maybe Brauner had diverted some back then?
How much would you need to get 50,000 dollars for it?
Our telephone partner thought for a moment.
“It depends. With a reasonably reputable dealer – if you can even talk about blood diamonds in terms of reputable – not that much. If you have to sell quickly and can't pick and choose the buyer, it would have to be a handful.”
Jens switched immediately.
Brauner didn't have much time to find a reputable buyer. He had to fall back on the connections he had from before. Did the name Barenkow come up in connection with him at some point?
Barenkow? Viktor Barenkow? The car dealer? Not that I know of, but supposedly he's involved in everything and nowhere.
Okay, thanks, Sven. I think we'll pay Mr. Barenkow a visit.
Gladly. And keep me posted, okay? If you can get your hands on something on Viktor, that would be a holiday for us. The slimy brother has always slipped through our fingers.
Let's do it.”
Machlitzke hung up and looked at me.
“Come on, Sascha, let's go.”
We grabbed our jackets and headed out. Twenty minutes later, we had found the junkyard with the attached used car lot. Everything looked very quiet, not a soul in sight, but the gate was wide open, so we drove in. We got out and looked around when suddenly, about a hundred meters away, a man came around a pile of scrap cars. When he saw us, he froze stiff. Jens called to him.
“Mr. Barenkow? Viktor Barenkow? Police?”
No sooner had the man heard the word police than he turned around and ran away. We dashed after him. When we came around the pile of scrap cars, we just saw the man storm up the outside staircase of a three-story building.
“Stop, police!”
You can try it. The fugitive, however, remained unimpressed by this request and rushed through a door at the end of the stairs into the building. My boss and I ran towards the building, when the man reappeared in the door and held something in his hands that looked very threatening. I immediately recognized what it was.
Shit, he's got an AK!
In the next moment, the bullets from the Kalashnikov were already flying around our ears. Fortunately, the guy shot from the hip, which was anything but beneficial for accuracy. Jens and I jumped behind junk cars for cover and drew our weapons.
Barenkow, give up, you won't get out of here!
In reply, bullets again struck the metal sheet protecting my superior.
Damn. If he has enough ammunition, we won't get to him that easily.
We should call for reinforcements and have the area sealed off. Not there! He'll just slip away from us.
Machlitzke grinned maliciously.
“At least he can't do that. I know the building well, it's an old coal bunker with the office on top. The only access is these stairs. And whether he's got an AK or not, he won't be able to get out.”
At least there's some good news.
Nevertheless, you're right, we'll call for backup. I'm not going up against an assault rifle with a pistol, I'd rather call the SEK.
My superior reached for his cell phone, opened it and swore.
“Damn, no signal here. What's yours saying?”
Unfortunately, exactly the same. No wonder, we used the same network.
“Chief, I'll run to the car and do it over the radio.”
Machlitzke looked around thoughtfully. The terrain looked good, I would always have cover on the way.
Okay, I'll cover you. Are you ready?
Yes, on three.
My companion nodded, and I started counting.
One, two, three!
We both jumped up, and while Jens fired several shots in the direction of the building where Barenkow had barricaded himself, I stormed off.
It worked. By the time the first shots rang out from the Kalashnikov, I had long since rounded the protective corner and was running to our patrol car for safe cover. Once there, I tried again with the cell phone, but there was no reception there either. Well, then it would have to be over the open radio. Even at the risk of the place being swarming with reporters. I turned the device on and reached for the microphone. A patrol car was just asking a car owner for information, I couldn't wait.
“Radio free! Lion two?”
The babble in the ether immediately died down and the radio center answered.
“Dispatcher, Lion 2?
“Seven-twenty-three?”
“Zwo here!”
“Location, Barenkow car dealership, Zwieselstrasse. We're being shot at with an automatic weapon and urgently require the SWAT team.”
Fittingly, the next salvo from the AK sounded in the background.
“Received, reinforcement and SWAT are on their way!”
There we go.
Seven-twenty-three, thank you and out.
I got out of the car again and went to the trunk. From it, I took two bulletproof vests, putting one on immediately. From the secret compartment, I took the Heckler & Koch MP5, which would at least create a small degree of equality in terms of weapons. Of course, a submachine gun was inferior to an assault rifle in everything except handiness. I loaded it, and at that moment I already heard the siren of the first backup car. Shortly thereafter, it came to a screeching halt next to me, and the two uniformed colleagues jumped out. I didn't know them, so I introduced myself.
Altman, Homicide. My boss is pinned back there, in the building at the end of the site, a murder suspect with a Kalashnikov is squatting.
Nice shit. Are we going in?
Yes, we're going in, but not in. That's for the SEK to do.
Thank God.
The colleagues were already wearing protective vests, and one of them already had the patrol car's submachine gun in his hand.
“Let's go, show us where to go.”
We dashed to the edge of the scrap pile, behind which the danger zone began. I looked around carefully and saw that my boss was keeping an eye on the building's door several meters above the ground. I blew a short whistle and he looked over at me. I gave him the thumbs up sign to let him know I was coming back to him. He nodded and looked back at the building. I turned to the crew.
“I want you to take a quick look around the corner so you can get the lay of the land.”
They did just that and I continued.
“He's firing from the door at the end of the stairs.”
“Is he alone?”
“It seems so, we haven't seen any other people.”
“Good. You want to go out again?”
“Yes. Cover me with the HK, okay?”
“All right.”
The sequence of a few minutes ago was repeated. On the count of three, I charged forward, while my colleague in the camouflage gear opened fire with the MP. In response, a few shots came from the building, but they were completely untargeted, so I reached the cover behind which my boss was waiting without any problems.
“Here, I brought you something.”
Jens gratefully accepted the bulletproof vest, even though it wouldn't provide any real protection against a shot from an assault rifle.
“I'll try to talk to him again.”
“Okay.”
I took aim with the MP while my superior cautiously peeked over the cover.
“Barenkow, give up! You're surrounded, the SWAT team is about to arrive. You don't stand a chance!”
In response, bullets again pelted our cover of steel and sheet metal, so we decided to keep our heads down.
“He seems to want to shoot it out, boss.”
“It certainly looks that way. And if he's killed Brauner, he's got little to lose.”
Unfortunately, it looked like that, so we waited for the arrival of the special task force and kept an eye on the stairs leading out of the building. Ten minutes later, our heavily armed and armored colleagues arrived. The officer-in-charge came running to us in zigzags.
“Hiya. What have you got for us?”
Machlitzke filled him in.
“A murder suspect firing an AK?”
“Great. What about other exits?”
“There aren't any; the only way in or out is through those stairs.”
“Well, at least that's something. Should we go in or do you want to try again in a friendly way?”
We laughed softly.
“His response to our attempts at being friendly has always been lead.”
“All right. I'll call in my people, entry in fifteen minutes.”
While the SWAT leader was sorting and informing his men, surprisingly no more shots were fired, although there was a lot of movement as the officers approached. I looked questioningly at Jens.
“Do you think he's out of ammo?”
I'd rather not count on that. We'll stick with the SEK. You know how to use that thing, don't you?
He pointed to the machine pistol in my hands.
.48 from fifty the last time we practiced.?
.Very nice.?
The clock continued to tick mercilessly, and then the time had come. The officer in charge turned to us again.
“We're going in in one minute.”
“Okay, we'll follow your lead.”
He didn't seem particularly thrilled by the announcement, but he didn't object either.
“Agreed. But if there's a shootout, you'll have to hit the dirt.”
We promised to do that, then got ready to go. Ten seconds to go?
“Go, go, go!”
Some of the SWAT team members rushed out from behind their cover, while others pointed their weapons at the door opening. When no one fired immediately, Jens and I also jumped up and followed our colleagues. We quickly covered the distance to the building, where we then felt our way up the stairs along the wall of the building. There was still no reaction from Barenkow. Very strange.
The first SWAT team members had reached the door and jumped into the building. Shortly afterwards, the first shouts were heard.
“Left secure!”
“Right secure!”
The next officers stormed in, followed by the officer-in-charge and Jens and me.
“Rear secure!”
“All rooms secured!”
That went a lot smoother than I had feared. No shootout at OK Corral? I secured the MP and looked around when the SEK officer-in-charge came back out of the back rooms.
“I'm sorry, but your bird has flown.”
Jens was stunned.
How is that possible? There is no other exit here!
At that moment, a shout came from one of the back rooms.
“Over here!”
We rushed to the officer who had called out. He was standing in front of an open window. Jens looked at the scene in disbelief.
“That can't be, it's at least 8 meters to the ground!”
The officer pointed to a piece of rope hanging from the radiator.
“He tried it with a rope ladder. With the emphasis on *tried*.”
When we stepped to the window and looked out, we recoiled in shock. On the ground, actually 25 or more feet below us, was a hunched figure, next to it a Kalashnikov and on top of it a rope ladder. Without a word, my boss turned around and stormed out of the building, with me close on his heels. When we reached the bottom of the stairs, we ran into KHK Berger.
“Did you get him?”
You could say that. What are you doing here?
I heard about the shooting on the radio and came right over. Where is Barenkow?
Come on.
We went around the building, and when Berger saw the “down-and-out figure,” he let out a small cry.
Oh, shit. Did he jump out or what?
After a few steps, we had reached the AK gunner and my boss grabbed the rope ladder lying on top of him. The end of it looked badly frayed. Either it had been damaged before or Barenkow had simply been too heavy for it.
“He didn't hop, he wanted to rappel. And I idiot didn't even think of that possibility.
And if he hadn't been working with inferior equipment, he might even have made a successful escape. While I was looking at the windowless rear wall of the building on the first two or three floors, KHK Berger crouched down next to the would-be climber.
“Hm. Two things, Jens. First: he's dead. Second: it's not Barenkow.”
I jerked around, just in time to see the now completely flabbergasted face of my boss.
“Not Barenkow? Then why did he run away when we addressed him as Barenkow?”
No idea, but that's definitely not Viktor. He looks familiar, I think he's one of his errand boys. I can't remember his name, I'll have to look at the files again.
The story was becoming increasingly opaque.
Boss, maybe it wasn't Barenkow who killed Brauner? If this is Viktor's errand boy, maybe he overheard something about the diamond deal and wanted to give himself a little pay raise.
It's possible, but on the other hand, Brauner had an appointment with Barenkow today.
At that moment, my superior's cell phone rang.
Machlitzke.
He listened tensely into the receiver.
“Good work, thanks!”
He ended the call.
“Sasha, your theory just went down the drain. Barenkov's fingerprints were on the rolling pin.”
Damn. Why did this idiot shoot up the place like that?
We should go up and take a look around the office. Maybe we'll find a clue to Viktor's whereabouts.
So we went back to the premises from which there had been such wild shooting at us. There we split up and began to look around thoroughly. I found a lot of documents on the desk about the scrap and car trade, but nothing that helped us in any way. My luck only changed when I looked at the trash.
“Boss, I've got something!”
Both Jens and the colleague from the OV came to me. I triumphantly showed them a letter.
“What is it, big guy?
A booking confirmation from the railroad. Barenkow bought a ticket for the Moscow Express on the Internet and it was sent to him by mail.
Well done, Sascha! Does it also say when the ticket is for?
I read the text more closely and was flabbergasted.
For today!
Damn, what time?
4:33 p.m.?
We looked at our watches in unison. It was already shortly before half past three, we would have to hurry.
“We have to go to the train station, and we need a photo of Barenkow!”
“I have one with me, and I'll come with you, I'll recognize him even without it.”
“Good, then let's go!”
We dashed to our cars and shortly thereafter we were speeding through the increasingly dense afternoon traffic toward the main train station with the lights flashing and sirens blaring. On the way, I had an idea.
Shouldn't we inform the federal police? They could do a massive search of the platform.
Jens thought about it briefly.
I thought of that too, but I'd rather not. If Barenkow is as crazy as his henchman, then he might be heavily armed. With all the people at the station, it could be a disaster. We should try to keep this as inconspicuous as possible.”
That was a good point. We finally arrived at the main station, left our cars at the taxi stand and rushed into the building. While we were walking up to the cross-platform, Berger showed us a picture of our killer. Once at the top, my boss stopped our rush.
“We'd better keep going inconspicuously now.” Sascha, which platform do we have to go to?”
I looked at the electronic display.
“Platform 9?”
“Okay, let's go. We'll split up. Sascha, you go in at the front and go through the train. Sven, you go quickly to the other end and start from there. I'll take the platform. And remember, it's dangerous, so be careful.”
We made our way to the platform at a brisk pace, but without running. There were still 20 minutes to go before the train's departure. I entered the first carriage through the open door. The train was already quite full, and many travelers were carrying heavy luggage. It would not be easy to make our way through the packed carriages.
I laboriously worked my way forward, but even after three wagons I still hadn't spotted Barenkow. And the train was getting more and more crowded. Hopefully one of the other two would have more success! With a sigh, I pushed myself further along, bumping into an elderly man.
“Excuse me.
“Job twoju mat!?
Fuck your mother? How nice. I shot the guy an angry look, who glared grimly back from under his moustache. Well, I didn't have time for this, I turned around and kept walking. But suddenly something twitched in my brain. The nose seemed somehow familiar. But the beard? And the blond hair? On the other hand, you can glue on a beard and dye your hair. I turned around to the friendly guy again and scrutinized him. And the more I scrutinized him, the more I became convinced that this was Viktor Barenkow!
Unfortunately, he noticed my close inspection of his person. There was a train carriage door just two meters away, and through it he jumped onto the intermediate platform. I rushed after him.
Barenkow, stop, police!
I drew my service pistol while running. Caution is the mother of the porcelain box. However, the pursued man did not even think about stopping or attacking me; he continued running in the direction of the transverse platform, probably hoping to disappear into the crowds there.
However, I caught up with him quite quickly, my legs were probably 15 to 20 years younger than his. When he looked back at me just before reaching the cross-platform, fate struck in the form of a small dog that ran in front of his feet and caused him to fall. Three seconds later, while he was still trying to get up, I pounced on him.
“Nice and still.” Viktor Barenkow, you are under arrest on suspicion of the murder of Harald Brauner.”
I sat formally on his back, put away my pistol and reached for the handcuffs, which I also put on him right away. In the meantime, two rather haggard federal police officers had arrived.
“What's going on here?”
I reached into my jacket pocket and showed them my ID.
Altmann, Leipzig CID. I've just arrested a murder suspect. Can you make an announcement over the loudspeaker on platform 9?
Yes, no problem.
Good. Please announce that Chief Inspector Machlitzke and Chief Inspector Berger are to go to the transverse platform, the operation is over.
All right?
One of the officers spoke into his radio, and shortly afterwards the announcement was made over the loudspeaker. A few minutes later, the two officers puffed up to us, panting for air. When my boss saw the secured Barenkow, a broad smile stole across his face.
“You caught him? Great, Sascha! Any problems with that?
No, he wanted to go AWOL, but then stumbled over one of those little barkers, and that was that.
Great. Where exactly did you find him?
I pointed to the still-open carriage door at the intermediate platform.
In there, to the left, he was standing in front of the second compartment.
Good, then we'll go and see if we can find his luggage.
Machlitzke turned to the two station policemen.
“You'd best come with me, and please make sure that the train doesn't leave for the time being.”
“The railroad won't be pleased about this.”
“There's nothing we can do about it; we'll hurry too.”
One of the officers spoke into his radio again, and shortly thereafter the loudspeakers announced that the Moscow Express would probably be 10 minutes late in departing. On the way back to the carriage, KHK Berger looked back and forth between me and Barenkow. Then he shook his head.
He has changed quite a bit. How did you recognize him? I think I would have just walked past him.
I probably would have, but he insulted me, so I looked a second time. Still, I kept walking at first, but then I remembered the nose.
This nose had been broken once and was slightly crooked on his face, and that was a feature that couldn't be easily hidden.
“Good work, Sascha. Wouldn't you like to come to my OV?”
Jens jumped at the chance.
“I heard that, Sven! Leave Sascha alone, he's mine!”
Berger raised his hands in defense.
“All right, all right, it was worth a try.”
In the meantime, we had reached the carriage and got back on the train. In the compartment in front of which Barenkow had been standing when I bumped into him, two more people were sitting, an extremely old couple. Machlitzke entered with a friendly smile.
“Hello, police. Please tell me, was this gentleman here in this compartment earlier?”
The two old people looked a little frightened, and the man answered in broken German.
“Yes, he was sitting here.”
My superior smiled even more broadly.
“Can you tell me what his belongings are?”
With a trembling hand, the grandfather pointed to a suitcase and a travel bag. Jens grabbed the suitcase and handed it to me outside, and he himself grabbed the travel bag. Then he turned to the old people again.
“Does he own anything else in this compartment?”
The two shook their heads.
“Good. Thank you for your cooperation. I wish you a pleasant journey!”
With these friendly words, we left the compartment and then the train. During the whole event, the arrested man had not said a word, he had only glared around angrily and made no further escape attempt.
“So everything's been taken care of here. The train can leave now.”
The federal police officer with the radio announced this, while Machlitzke used his cell phone to call for a patrol car to take Barenkow to the police station. It was now 4:40 p.m.
When we arrived at the police station, we immediately began the first interrogation. After we had presented the evidence to Barenkow, especially his fingerprints on the murder weapon, he quickly broke his silence to make it clear to us that it was not murder but 'only' manslaughter. Shortly after 6 p.m., he was taken to his cell. Our case was solved. Satisfied, we leaned back in our chairs.
“That went really well today. I didn't think we'd be able to wrap things up on the same day.”
Something like that was really quite rare.
But Sascha, you should hurry now. You have an appointment at the theater. Not there? You've stood up your Derek and then he gets angry at you. Then I'll have the next murder on my hands, and actually I want to call it a day now.
Hallelujah! My boss had used my boyfriend's real name! But he was right, I really had to hurry. Especially since I still had to change. And I could also use a quick shower. So I said goodbye and rushed home. I did everything in a rush, and I arrived at the theater right on time. I spotted Derek from afar, and when he finally saw me, he came running towards me and jumped right into my arms.
“There you are! I was already afraid you would let me down.”
I cuddled my little one properly.
“I promised you that I would be there, didn't I?”
Happy, he looked at me with his big brown eyes.
“Yes, you did. Let's go in?”
There was no way around it, so I let him drag me to the theater. When we took our seats, there were still ten minutes to go before the performance began.
“How's your case going? Did the laptop data help you?”
“Yes, it did. It was a great help. We were able to arrest the culprit earlier.”
Come on, tell me! What exactly happened?
My little one was always very interested when it came to my work, so I told him how we had tracked down Barenkov. When I got to the scene at the junkyard, Derek started to turn pale.
He shot at you?
I gently took him in my arms.
Yes, but I'm fine.
Damn it, promise me you'll always take care of yourself!
I did him the favor, then I continued to the end.
But why did he have this... what's-his-name, the brown one? Why did he kill him?
He claims it was an accident. Brauner suddenly wanted an extra $10,000 for the blood diamonds, and that's when it came to the fight. Supposedly, Brauner attacked him with a knife, so Barenkow grabbed the rolling pin and bashed him over the skull with it. When he realized that Brauner was dead, he panicked and set the place on fire. Then he dyed his hair and stuck on a fake beard. Since he was going to Russia today anyway, he thought he could just leave. But he hadn't reckoned on the data on the laptop.
And this Brauner was terminally ill?
Yes, he probably wanted to have a nice last few weeks with the money. Well, no chance. But I think it's starting now.
And sure enough, the lights dimmed and the play began. Derek was quickly captivated by the action, but I had trouble staying awake. The day had been exhausting. I wondered if I could bill the theater visit as overtime. After all, it was about murder and mayhem, so it was basically continuing education, right?
When we left the theater late that evening, my little darling was still completely wired.
“Do you want to stop somewhere for a beer?”
I grimaced in agony.
“Hey, don't be mad at me, but I've had a long day. Actually, I just want to go to bed.”
A cheeky grin appeared on Derek's face.
“Do you want to spend the night at my place?”
Suddenly I wasn't that tired anymore. I grinned back.
“Are your parents there?”
“Nope, they're out of town, so we have the house to ourselves.”
How promising.
“Well, let's go then!”
Fifteen minutes later we reached Derek's apartment, and another ten minutes later I was crawling naked into his bed while my boyfriend was still taking his clothes off. What was that? My feet had bumped into something. I bent over and pulled it out from under the duvet. The next moment I was shaking with laughter. I held a hot water bottle in my hand. And another one in bright pink!
“Tell me, what is that?”
Derek grinned.
“Well, something has to keep me warm when you're not there.”
“I get that, but this? This looks really gay! And I thought you were the one with an eye for beauty in our relationship.”
I am, after all I chose YOU. And I'd rather give this thing up today than tomorrow. But I can't do that until we move in together and you warm me every night?
Damn, I think we should really do that soon. I flung the rubber thing out of bed and Derek slipped under the covers with me?
Half an hour later I fell asleep and had a wild dream full of rolling pins, laptops, rope ladders, train tickets and not to forget pink bed bottles. That had been just a single day in my life, and it had provided material for at least half a novel!