The Grey Falcon

by J. C. Williams

  “I am not paid by them. I work with them to help find the truth.”

  This time Mrs. Rauch kept the door open and awaited the translation.

  “Archaologe?” Mrs. Rauch asked.

  Chad understood and broke into a smile.

  “I dig for facts and then make conclusions. I don’t think your husband was involved in drugs.”

  After the translation, Mrs. Rauch seemed to be making a decision.

  “What do you want?” she asked. Kari handled the translations.

  “I want to know more about your husband. About Christoph. I want to learn what he was like. Maybe with your help, I can find out what really happened.”

  She invited them in. The one-year-old boy hung onto the edge of the sofa and looked curiously at the visitors with wide eyes. The three-year-old girl peeked at them from the hallway corner.

  “I am Chad. This is Kari. May I call you Elsa?”

  She nodded and smiled. Chad noticed she was prettier when she smiled. When the stress momentarily left her.

  “You have been through a terrible ordeal. I am sorry for your loss. Tell me about Christoph. When you met. When you first married. What was he like?”

  Elsa relaxed as she thought back on her early days with Christoph.

  “He was exciting. Full of energy and full of dreams. There was nothing he couldn’t do. That is, he thought he could do anything. He tried several jobs and careers. It started that way. His fourth career began a year and a half ago. It was in electronics, a growing field and one with very little unemployment. By then, he began to see that maybe he could not do everything. Maybe, even, he could not do most things. I saw that too. He was becoming depressed. I suggested he try therapy. He was angry with me for that. Said that I no longer believed in him. I offered to go and make it couples therapy.”

  “Were you working then?” Chad asked.

  “Yes. I received a nursing certification just after we were married. I was happy. I am good at it. I think he resented that.”

  “This was two years ago? You were pregnant then?”

  “Yes. That was more pressure. We already had Gwen. Now a second one was on the way. Added to that, such bad timing, was the death of his uncle six months later.”

  “They were close?”

  “Very. His mother died when he was six. His father when he was ten. His aunt and uncle raised him.”

  “Tell me more about his family, please.”

  “Christoph’s father and brother came here from Croatia. They were Serbian. They were in their early forties, I think. They came to escape persecution of the Serbs by the Croats. It was in the nineties. Just after re-unification. They went to work in the mines. The mines have been important to Dresden for hundreds of years. It is almost gone now. They built a house together and both married younger women from Dresden. The house was home to both families. Christoph was an only child. His mother was in her early thirties. His aunt was as well and never had children.”

  “Thank you,” Chad said.

  “This helps?” Elsa asked.

  “I don’t know yet,” Chad said honestly.

  “If you don’t think it was drugs, then why was he murdered?” she asked.

  “I think he sold something. I think when he was leaving the museum, the money was stolen from him. Possibly, by the people whom he just did business with. Do you have any idea whether he was doing that? Selling something?”

  “No.”

  “Did he ever mention that he found something?” Chad probed.

  “No. We did not see each other much these last four months. He came to see the kids. He loved them. But he would change during the visit. He was happy when he first came, but then as time came close to leaving, he became depressed. Never angry with them. Just sad.”

  “And with you, Elsa? Was he angry with you.”

  She was hesitant to answer.

  Finally she did, “He never hit me. Never hurt me. But, he was more and more angry with me. He yelled. I couldn’t take it anymore. It bothered the children. They cried. I had to leave him.”

  “That was six months ago?”

  “Yes.”

  “He worked as a truck driver for the last year?”

  “Yes.”

  “Tell me about that. Did he like it?”

  “How did you know?” she asked. “I think he liked it. I think he felt comfortable. No pressure. I feel he was doing something within his abilities. He did not have to try so hard to be good at it.”

  “Did any of his trips result in a particular happy mood or a particularly bothersome moment?”

  Kari had trouble translating the intent.

  Elsa answered. Kari repeated it in English.

  “Nothing from his trips. But a few weeks ago, he came to see me. He told me everything was going to change for us. He said he would spend more time with the children and he even mentioned going to therapy with me.”

  “What happened?” Chad asked.

  “I think his aunt’s estate was settled.”

  Chad tried to relate this piece of information with his notes. “When did she die?”

  “About ten months ago. I forgot to tell you that. It added to his sadness. I tried once more to get him to get help. He didn’t want it.”

  Chad summarized, “It took ten months to settle the estate? Christoph was excited about it. Was there a large inheritance?”

  “No. She owned an apartment and had a little savings. Her life insurance was five thousand, but Christoph spent that on the funeral and living expenses between hauls.”

  Chad thought through what this meant. If the men who killed Christoph did not trust him to take one payment, or thought he was holding back leverage, they probably torched the house. Most likely they searched it first. Why didn’t they do the same to the aunt’s apartment? It would make the logical place to stash whatever he was selling.

  “What happened to the apartment? She owned it, you said. Does it go to you now?”

  Kari interrupted, “Dresden residences are predominantly multi-family dwellings. Apartments are often owned, only about half are rented.”

  Elsa answered, “Yes. Just this week, the papers were processed.”

  “Have you been there this week? Or recently?”

  “Two days ago. Why?”

  He didn’t want to explain his concern yet, because he didn’t want to alarm them.

  “Kari, in your studies, had you learned about estates and properties?”

  “Some, what do you want to know?”

  “In whose name is the property listed when it goes through the process? The deceased, or the state, or the inheritor?”

  “The deceased. Then when the will is processed, the inheritor pays any back taxes. Then, the governing body transfers it to the inheritor.”

  “So through all of this, the property was in the name of Rauch? Christoph’s uncle’s name was Rauch correct?”

  Elsa understood Chad well enough to answer.

  “Ja. Chritoph’s uncle was Thomas Rauch. But, the property was always in his Aunt Berni’s name.”

  Kari and Chad asked at the same time, “What was her name?”

  “Bernadina Weber.”

  It made sense to Chad now. The house part. Whoever burned the Rauch house, did not know about the apartment in a different name. But, he didn’t have an answer to what Christoph sold at the museum. He felt the answer was at Aunt Berni’s. The timing of Christoph’s action corresponded to the possession of the house. Or, what if there was something else, like a safety deposit box? He asked about that. Elsa didn’t know if Christoph inherited a safety deposit box from his aunt. There was no mention of it by Christoph. However, she was certain there was nothing like that he left to her.

  Chad realized that she might not know of any new safety deposit boxes or accounts that Christoph had set up in the last few weeks of his life, but the police had gone down that path.

  He felt sure there was an answer in Aunt Berni’s residence.

  “You
said you were there a couple days ago? Can I ask what you did there?”

  “I cleaned the apartment. We plan to move there. Why?”

  “Oh, that’s good. Is it closer to the hospital?”

  “It is a little closer. I moved to this apartment because my mother lived in this area and she would watch the children at night. I could count on Christoph less and less before I left him. And, getting an overnight child caregiver was difficult. And, expensive. My mother will move in with us. It is an unusual residence. It is two apartments with the walls knocked out to connect the two. Each has two bedrooms. There are two kitchens. Christoph’s father and uncle were very close. You didn’t answer why you asked what I did there.”

  Kari understood and explained. “Dr. Archer is concerned what you may have seen or be suspected of seeing if there is something there that was used for extortion.”

  “Oh,” Elsa responded.

  “Elsa, would you allow me and the police to examine and search the apartment?”

  “Without me?”

  “Yes,” Chad said.

  “No. Not the police, but you can look, if I am with you.”

  Kari stepped in again. “Dr. Archer is not an official so your presence would be suspect if a case was made.”

  “I see. Yes I trust you. But, you may not be who you say you are.”

  “Do you have a computer here?” Chad asked. “Let’s look me up.”

  They did so and Elsa was convinced that Chad was not a thief or con man. She gave him the key.

  “I’ll drop you off first,” Chad told Kari. “You should not be incriminated either.”

  “Okay,” she said. “ You know that you are not protected from suspicion?”

  Chad thought about the near miss in Malta and the man in London looking for him.

  “Suspicion is the least of my concerns.”

  He was right. Two cars followed him back to the city center. Zevic made a few calls. His last was to Max in the other car.

  “Max, he is police. I walked past his car. It is a police car. I have made arrangements. Can I rely on you to ensure it is done?” Zevic shared the plan.

  Chapter 51

  Archer dropped Kari off at the tour guide office in a southeast district of the city, not far from Elsa’s flat. He keyed the address for Aunt Berni’s apartment into his phone app. The helpful voice gave him instructions.

  “Turn left on Lobtauer Strasse.”

  He made the turn.

  “Continue one point three kilometers then continue on Weiseritzstrase.”

  Traffic was light. Chad had a chance to look at the buildings. This area seemed depressed. Buildings were vacant. There were pawn stores. Chad recognized them even in German. He spotted some residences. Unkempt. Several loiterers. He knew from Kari that unemployment was on a path of reduction up until 2012. Refugees and immigrants were raising the level now.

  Chad looked at the expected arrival time. Twenty minutes. Good for me he thought. I might fly out yet tonight.

  Unfortunately, his route to Aunt Berni’s was on the same line as the central police station, Polizeidirektion Dresden. Unfortunate because that was one of two routes Zevic had prepared for his operation, thinking Chad would return there.

  The ringing cell phone, showed a London exchange. Chad answered.

  “Hello.”

  “Chad. It’s me, Sandy.”

  No cute banter, he thought. Something was up.

  “What’s happening?” he asked.

  “Chad, we identified my intruder. His name is Max Alton. He has form. Strong-arm enforcement, short incarcerations, several suspicions of assault and worse. He does private investigations.”

  “Okay, so you can find him?” Chad asked.

  “No. And, yes. I put an alert on his passport. He left this morning for Dresden.”

  Chad was half way through the intersection but made a last second hard right turn into a side street to talk to Sandy. He barely registered that a man stepped off the curb just ahead of where he had been headed. And, Chad definitely didn’t see the man with the handgun that stepped into the intersection from the left. The first man was to stop Chad and his car. The second man was to stop Chad permanently. Together, the two planned to murder him and hijack the car. Now they stood in the intersection looking dumbly at each other.

  None of that happened. Behind him other cars screeched to stops and honked. Their noise made Chad turn to his left looking back, even as he was responding to Sandy’s warning.

  “Dresden? This morning?”

  That’s when he slowly coasted past the parked car facing the opposite direction. Chad saw a man standing next to the car holding a silenced pistol in his left hand. The man was turning, watching Chad’s car drive past.

  Chad recognized the man from Sandy’s video of his break-in. Their eyes met.

  “Damn,” Chad said as he accelerated ducking down in the seat.

  The back window shattered with the first shot. Then Chad heard two loud hisses as the silenced bullets punctured the rear tires.

  Chad whispered, hoping, “Please not the gas tank. Not the gas tank.”

  The shooting stopped and he heard tires screeching behind him. He risked a glance in the rear view mirror. Max Alton was turning his car around to follow Chad.

  Knowing he’d never outrun the pursuit with two flats, Chad turned right at the corner and slammed on the brakes. He grabbed his backpack and phone and leapt from the car. Ahead, a young man was just about to chain his bicycle to a pole.

  Chad pocketed his phone, grabbed the bike, ran off with it, and hopped on.

  “Call the police,” he yelled to the stunned man behind him.

  With his backpack on both shoulders he pedaled hard, trying to figure out the derailleurs.

  He heard Alton turn the corner behind him. He looked ahead to the left and right, trying to find an escape route. He took the next street to the left. The more turns the better for him. He looked for alleys, but passed on three, worried about dead ends.

  He had to make more turns. Alton was closing on him. Ahead, Chad saw the green of a park. He swerved onto the sidewalk, putting parked cars between him and his pursuer. He turned into the park and started across it.

  He saw Alton turn left at the end of the park to head him off. Chad made a hard right turn, passing behind Alton’s car. He pedaled harder and rocketed down a slightly sloped street. Two blocks later he saw another park. He skipped the paths and rode across the grass. Several people yelled at him for breaking the rules.

  When he reached the end of the park, he stopped behind a maintenance shed.

  He called Sandy.

  “Sorry, Sandy. Max saw me. I had to lose him.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “I am now. I’m calling the police next.”

  “Good.”

  He called Peter.

  “Chad, what happened?”

  “Peter, I’m sorry, I had to leave your car. It’s a bit shot up.”

  “I know. We were called. Are you okay?” the detective asked.

  “Yes. There was man from London chasing me.”

  “Witnesses said there was an attempted carjacking.”

  “Oh. I didn’t know.”

  “Can I come get you?”

  “I have somewhere I need to go. If you trust me, I’ll contact you for a ride when I’m done.”

  “Fine. How are you travelling?”

  “Bicycle.”

  Peter laughed. “If it helps, on the north side of the river is a long bike and running path.”

  “Thanks. Oh, and can you track down the owner of the bike. He should have called by now.”

  Chad broke cover, found a bridge two blocks away, and crossed to the greenway that ran parallel to the River Elbe.

  He followed it, skirting the New City, until he saw hotels. He rode up to one. Left the bike with the valet along with Peter’s number. He gave the man twenty euros and a second twenty for the bike owner. A cab took him to Aunt Berni’s.
<
br />   Chapter 52

  After paying the taxi driver, Chad appraised the neighborhood that surrounded Aunt Berni’s. It was comprised of multi-family dwellings, typically with only four or six apartments. The construction was similar to each other, but different pastel colors and the uniquely varied entrances provided distinction. There was a scattering of leafy trees that overhung the properties and the street in front. Each corner had one or two retail establishments. A grocery. A dry cleaners. A pharmacy. Nice place to live, Chad concluded.

  He walked through a gate and up four steps to the main door. One of the keys from Elsa opened it. He inspected the doorframe, ceiling, and baseboards. These showed their thirty years of wear and tear, but the walls were recently painted. The stairs were wood, worn, but recently varnished, and very clean.

  On the second level, he could turn left or right. Aunt Berni owned the entire floor. There were two units on the first level, two more on the third, and from the outside it appeared that a fourth level also had some type of a unit, an attic converted to an apartment, though its ceilings would be severely sloped to match the roof.

  Unlocking the door, he was met with the aroma of cleaning solutions and bleach. He wandered through the two units. The wall that would have separated the two units had been removed, connecting the living areas. Each had a large window that overlooked a communal green area for several homes surrounding the block. The bedrooms were at the far sides, right and left, each with a window on the outside wall.

  Chad took a pair of gloves from his backpack and started to search the apartment in a systematic, quadrant-divided process. It was a natural approach based on his many years of excavations.

  An hour later, he sat in the middle of the floor between the two units. He had found nothing. Nothing in the obvious places - closets, cupboards, dressers, and under the beds. It was almost furnished, though many items had a piece of blue tape on them. He reasoned that between what Elsa and her mother owned there was not a need for much of Aunt Berni’s furniture. The blue tags were probably designating what was to go.

  He started over, looking in cushions and under drawers. Perhaps, there were hidden back panels and false bottoms. He even examined the mattresses for any slits that could have been made to store papers and then sewn shut.