Herring turned to the lackey behind him. “Call the ambulance! Schnell!”
“Get over here, Herring, and do the breaths. Hurry!” Faust directed the Sergeant in CPR, telling him to check quickly for any obstruction in her airway. “Pinch her nose and blow in two breaths.”
Herring wiped the excess blood from her mouth and did as bid. Faust began counting out compressions once again. “Where the hell is the Captain? We need to inform her brother. She may have a medical condition we don’t know about. He’s here still, yes?”
Herring blinked, clearly confused and rattled by the situation. “No. Rheinhardt took him out of here about an hour ago.”
“What, why?” Faust pointed, and Herring blew in two more breaths.
The Sergeant sat back up. “I don’t know. He didn’t say. I figured he was taking him home. We didn’t have any reason to hold him.”
“Shit! A fine time to take off.” Faust and Herring kept up the life-saving measures until the emergency medical responders showed up. One short man in his late thirties and a tall, young woman who looked fresh out of school took over, checking again for a pulse.
The young woman opened Frau Hoffmann’s shirt, pushed her bra straps out of the way, and grabbed a defibrillator. Lifting the paddles, she said, “Clear!” before shocking Hoffmann’s heart. The machine continued its monotone. She increased the amplitude and repeated the task. Still nothing. The man filled a syringe and injected the intravenous line he’d only just put in. Once complete, the woman, again, tried to shock Frau Hoffmann’s heart back to life. The monotone stretched out like a siren in the silence, never once breaking off into a steady beat.
“I’ll need to inform her brother. Which hospital will you be taking her to?” Faust stood back, looking around.
The short EMS technician sat back on his heels. “Whichever one has an open morgue.” His partner, the tall, young woman, set the paddles back on the defibrillator and pulled out a sheet from her bag. She shook it out and laid it over the body of Edith Meyer Hoffmann.
“What? Why did you stop?” Faust looked down at them, eyes wide and full of anxiety.
“She’s gone, officer. I’m sorry, but it took us more than thirty minutes to get here, and despite all your efforts, and ours, we’ve been unable to revive her. She’s been down too long. She’s gone.”
Herman Faust stood, unsure what to do next. This was his first death on the job. He ran his hand over his face, chewing the inside of his cheek - a nervous habit that helped him think. His wife, Helga, often joked he would one day chew a hole right through his face.
“I need to contact the Captain. If he’s still with Herr Meyer...” Faust walked out of the cell and left the block. Herring followed.
“I can’t believe it. She was fine when I put her in there. Maybe a little cough, and she looked rather thin, but otherwise, she seemed okay. Normal for those from the other side of the wall. And what do you think was with all that blood coming out of her nose and ears?”
“Maybe a brain hemorrhage? I don’t know, Herring. That’s for the coroner to figure out now.”
Herring went behind his desk, wiping blood off his hands with a towel. “Well, at least you didn’t get blood all over you.” He picked up the phone. “I’ll call the Captain. As soon as I get him on the line, I’ll transfer him to your desk.”
Faust stood, looking unsure of how to take the next step. “Okay. I guess I’ll be at my desk.” He wandered off to his area in the back corner of the quadrant.
He sat down, stunned. Only once before had he been involved in a life or death situation, a choking. A perp he’d picked up for drug possession had tried to swallow down the bag of drugs he carried. The bag got stuck and the fool began to choke. Faust had immediately grabbed him around the waist, applying pressure just below the breastbone. The Heimlich maneuver was successful. The baggie of drugs was expelled and the dealer went to jail. Alive. But this was the first death. The silence in the station house was briefly interrupted by the paramedics wheeling the body out to the ambulance. He couldn’t see her face, but she was there, under the white sheet, dead.
The junior officer followed, a Polaroid camera in hand. He’d been taking pictures before the body was removed. Standard procedure. There was also closed circuit footage inside the holding area. All of it would be collected as part of the evidence to close her case. A woman who’d escaped communist rule, found fleeting freedom, only to be jailed, dies inside a cell all alone. It was a fucking tragedy. Such shouldn’t happen to anyone in Faust’s opinion.
He realized he’d been sitting there for quite some time and, still, the phone hadn’t rung. He looked up, seeking out Herring. The man was leaning over the front desk, rubbing his temples.
“Hey, Herring. Any luck yet?”
Herring straightened. “No, not yet.”
“Keep trying.” Faust sat forward. The clock on the wall said it was 0437. His shift would end in less than three hours. There was still much to do beginning with informing her family, which they were trying to do.
“Where are you, Captain?” he muttered under his breath. No longer capable of sitting still, Herman Faust pulled out the requisite forms for an inmate death and began filling them out.
Chapter Three
Morning shift change arrived with still no word from Captain Rheinhardt. Faust walked to the front desk, his jacket slung over his arm.
“I’ve put all the paperwork in the Captain’s desk. Where on earth do you think he is? Why isn’t he answering his pages?”
Sergeant Herring looked up, appearing the worse for wear, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Faust. Maybe he just went home after dropping Meyer off. We’re all exhausted and something seems to be going around.” He coughed. “He’s probably home and in bed, which is where I’m going and you should too. We’ve done all we can. The rest is up to the Captain when he comes in tonight.”
“I suppose you’re right. I have everything in my report. If he has any questions, he knows where to find me. Goodnight, Herring.”
“Yeah, you too, Herman.”
Faust punched out on the clock and left the station house. Outside, the morning was crisp and cold. The ground was covered in wet snow and at least six inches of it covered his police cruiser. He sighed. He didn’t feel like cleaning off a windshield, but it was necessary if he wanted to get home. He pulled on his coat, yanked his hat down over his head, and resigned himself to the task. By the time he was finished, the inside of the car had heated up. He was grateful once he slid in behind the wheel and closed the door. His fingers felt numb and his body ached in unusual places. His neck and shoulders screamed for rest, most likely from giving CPR for half an hour. He was tired and looking forward to getting home. More so, he was looking forward to his mother-in-law’s arrival because then he could crawl into his warm bed and sleep off this hellish night.
***
Helga was in the kitchen when he arrived. She stood by the stove cooking eggs. He noticed she was already dressed for work, looking very professional in her dress suit. His wife was a legal secretary and knew about as much of the law as her employer. She was an intelligent woman with a sparkling wit. It didn’t hurt that she was also beautiful with flowing red hair and crystal blue eyes. How she chose him over all the men vying for her attention that day still stymied him, but he was grateful. He would have fought them all to win her, but as luck would have it, she was the one who threw the winning punch. He knew it was that act which won his heart.
It all went down after he’d graduated the police academy. He and his best friend, Joseph Heinz, had gone out to celebrate, dragging along their friend, Karl Keller. Keller and Faust often argued, always on the opposite side of every issue, while Joseph seemed to be the linchpin that held their trio together. Even so, they were never far from each other’s company. That evening, they made the rounds of the local pubs, feeling jovial and optimistic about their futures. Around about the third establishment, they stumbled upon a spot with a good band playing lively mus
ic. It was there that they spotted her, a gorgeous girl with flaming hair sitting with her friends. Herman smiled at her, unable to help himself and she smiled back. Joseph whistled, saying, “Now there’s a looker, Herman!”
“That she is, my friend, and I do believe she’s looking at me so roll your tongue back up into your mouth.” Faust was laughing as he patted Joseph on the shoulder.
Karl smirked. “That wasn’t you she was smiling at, Faust, it was me! That one there is all mine.”
Herman’s eyebrows lowered. “Want to bet on it?”
Joseph noticed the serious turn his friend’s mood had taken and tried to smother his own grin even as his own brow rose in surprise. “Gentlemen, I do believe we have a wager. May the best man win?”
“You stay out of it, Joseph!” Faust grunted, unaware that his best friend was already backing off from participating in the bet even as he kept closed-mouth about it, silently laughing. But Karl Keller did not back off. Before Joseph could reel the man in, Keller had boldly walked up to the red-haired beauty and asked her to dance. She’d glanced over in Herman and Joseph’s direction before politely agreeing. As the band played, Keller spun the lovely girl around the dance floor while Herman fumed.
When the song ended, Keller tried to pull her along for another dance. Joseph appeared behind them. “May I cut in?”
The girl gave Joseph the eye, and seeing her chance to escape, accepted. “Of course.” Keller had no choice but to relinquish her hand. He wandered over to the edge of the floor and watched, waiting.
Joseph looked down at her as he led her through the polka. “I hope I wasn’t intruding...” He left the statement hanging.
“Not at all.”
“I’m Joseph,” he said. Heinz glanced over at Herman who stood, hands in pockets, glaring at him. Heinz chuckled. “And that one over there is Herman, my best friend.”
“He looks quite put out,” she said.
“Yes, well, he wanted to dance with you, but Karl beat him to it.”
“He did?” She turned her large, lovely blue eyes on him.
“Oh, yes. That’s why he’s glaring at me now. Thinks I’m stepping on his toes.” The grin spread across his face.
“And are you?” She offered an inquiring look.
Joseph noticed the laughter in her eyes, caught off guard by both her boldness and her beauty, and stumbled. He righted them both immediately. “No, but it does seem I’m stepping on yours. Sorry!”
She laughed. “I’m Helga, by the way.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Helga. There’s not a boyfriend somewhere around here, is there?”
“You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
“I’m practicing.”
“For what?” she said.
“Well, we’ve just graduated from the police academy. We’re officially police officers. One day, I hope to be a detective. Herman, too. He’s very smart, that one. Don’t let his silly hair fool you.”
She looked at the man in question. His blond hair fell in a wave over his eyes, refusing to stay slicked back. “I don’t think his hair is silly. In fact, it’s quite nice.”
The song ended, and Joseph offered his arm, intending to lead Helga to Herman and let them take it from there. Karl reappeared, grabbing Helga’s hand.
“Another go-round, sweets?” He leaned in, trying to kiss her.
Helga recoiled in horror, balled up her fist, and smacked Karl hard across the jaw. The young man flew back, stumbling, and landed on his ass. Joseph stood with his mouth hanging open in shock. From twenty feet away, Faust came running.
“Are you alright?” he asked her, concern in his voice. “You didn’t hurt your hand, did you? Christ, let me see your knuckles?” He took her hand, holding it gently, examining each finger.
“It’s fine. I’m fine. Thank you.” Helga blushed, trying to appear calm, but she stood there, allowing Faust to continue holding her hand.
As they stared at each other, Joseph backed away. Karl tried to rise, anger in his eyes as he looked at Herman holding the girl’s hand. Joseph stepped in quickly, pulling Karl away and outside. A waltz struck up, and Herman and Helga drew closer, slowly melding together as they began to dance, unaware that a roomful of people watched them, their attention drawn to the feisty redhead who’d just clobbered one man and now seemed to be calmly enjoying the company of another. They’d been together ever since. It was on the day of his wedding when Faust finally thought to ask Joseph exactly what he’d said to Helga that first night. Discovering the truth, he felt bad for thinking his best friend had tried to horn in on his love. It had, in fact, been the opposite. Joseph helped set them up. For that, he was eternally grateful.
Now, Helga stood before him, a welcome sight, especially after last night. She turned, smiling, as she flipped the eggs over in the pan.
“Good morning, dearest. How was your night?”
Faust slipped off his coat, hung it on the back of the kitchen chair, and walked to her. Without a word, he took her in his arms and held her, burying his face in her hair. Silently, Helga slipped her arms around his waist and allowed herself to be held. They stood that way for a long minute, just the two of them, in the silence.
Finally, he spoke. “Smart lady,” he kissed the top of her head, “you always know exactly what I need.”
Helga smiled softly into his shoulder. “Well, of course.” She turned her face up to him, kissing his lips briefly. “Bad shift?”
“The worst. A lady died.” He told her what he knew.
“That’s terrible, Herman. And no word from your Captain?”
“None. I left him a detailed report. I suppose I’ll know more tonight. Right now, I’m just exhausted.”
“Well, mother should be here in a few minutes and Therese will be taken care of so just go to bed. Get some sleep. It will all be okay, love.”
At that moment, Therese toddled into the kitchen. “Papa!” She flung herself at his legs, holding them tight.
Faust looked down at her long red curls and felt love swell in his heart. “Yes, munchkin, it’s your papa. I’m home.” He released his wife to bend down and pick up his daughter. “Guten morgen, Liebling. Did you sleep well?”
Therese placed her hands on either side of her father’s face and leaned in, touching her nose to his. “Yes!”
“That’s good. Did you remember to sleep a little for your dear papa too?”
“I can’t sleep for you too.” The girl giggled.
“Well no wonder I’m so tired then, greedy girl.”
“Go, sit,” Helga directed them. “Breakfast is ready.”
Faust carried his daughter to the kitchen table where he set her down in her high chair and then took his own seat. Helga plated their eggs and ham slices, taking the time to cut Therese’s ham into small bite sizes. Together, they sat eating, enjoying the peaceful moment.
Hearing a car pulling into the driveway, Helga announced, “Mom is here and it’s time for me to leave.” She rose, kissing Therese on her head, and paused, looking at Herman.
“I’m okay,” he said. “Go. I’ll get some sleep and see you before I leave for shift.” He stood, carrying his plate to the sink.
“You’re sure?”
He turned. “Yes. I’m sure. But I love that you asked.”
“Well, I love you, you fool.” Helga embraced her husband, resting her chin on his chest as she stared up into his eyes.”
Faust smiled. “So that’s why you married me?” He chuckled, kissing her lips softly.
“That, and you’re very cute.” With one last kiss, Helga pulled away just as her mother came in the side door of their small home.
“It’s bad out there. Herman, you put the chains on Helga’s tires?” Margaret shook off her coat, stomping the snow off her feet in the mudroom.
He looked at his mother-in-law. “Yes, Mutti.”
“For once I didn’t need to remind you,” she said, walking into the kitchen. Her eyes lit upon her granddaughter. “Hello,
sunshine!”
“Oma!” Therese grinned, holding her arms out to her grandmother.
Faust shook his head and bounced a glance off Helga who shrugged. “Thank you, mother. There’s soup in the refrigerator for lunch and rolls in the breadbox.”
“Go. I got this. You think I don’t know how to take care of a child? How do you think you grew up?” Margaret shooed her daughter out the door. “And you,” she addressed Herman, “can go to bed. You look like you’re going to fall asleep on your feet.”
“I feel like it.” Faust ruffled his daughter’s hair, passing by. “Don’t let her drive you crazy.”
“She won’t. Old Herr Duncan is out shoveling the sidewalk. Maybe we can play outside a little later. It should warm up enough to let her burn off some energy.”
“Shout if you need anything.” He walked around the corner and headed to bed, hoping sleep would wipe the image of the dead woman from his mind, and that when he awoke, he would get some kind of answer from his captain.
***
Sleep did not come easy. First, it was a nightmare revolving on a loop inside his head. Gunter Meyer and his sister, Edith Meyer Hoffmann were both stuffed inside the hidden space beneath the man’s backseat, which didn’t make sense. Then a phone would ring and Captain Rheinhardt would remind him that the LKA wanted to brief the scientist and her brother immediately. He shouted at Faust to quickly remove the two from the car and bring them in. When he tried to comply, Meyer was missing, and Edith was dead. Her blood covered the car, and behind him, a unit of men wearing HazMat suits told him to back away with his hands up. Faust awoke around three in the afternoon, covered in a cold sweat. His mouth was dry, and his head ached. He needed water and some aspirin, so Herman rose to make his way to the kitchen. That’s where he found his mother-in-law packing ice into a towel and his daughter sat on the edge of the table crying.
“What happened? He moved quickly to Therese’s side.
“She fell off her tricycle. She’s okay. It’s just a small bump, but I’m putting some ice on it anyway.” She came back with the cold compress.
The Making of Herman Faust Page 2