The Making of Herman Faust

by Michele E. Gwynn

  “Give it to me!” Faust barked as he grabbed it from her, placing it on the bump growing red and angry on his daughter’s forehead near her temple. “How did this happen?” He scooped the small child up, cradling her as he held the ice pack in place with his free hand, all the while whispering assurances to her. “It’s okay, darling. Daddy has you. No worries, okay?”

  “It hurts,” she cried.

  “I know. I know, but it will stop in a minute. Be calm.” He paced, gently rocking her, and looked at Margaret. “Well?”

  His mother-in-law’s face clearly showed her pain. She did not like seeing her granddaughter in tears. “We were going up and down the sidewalk on her bike. There was a patch of ice, I think, and her foot slipped off the pedal. She toppled right over and banged her head. Not too hard, but enough to give her a good bump. For a moment, she just lay there unmoving.” A shadow passed over Margaret’s blue eyes. “Then she cried out and I knew she’d only hurt herself. I picked her up and brought her in and that’s when you came in.”

  Herman noted her pained expression. He felt instantly guilty for barking at her. She loved Therese every bit as much as he did, and he knew she hadn’t done anything wrong. It was an accident. That was all. “Okay.” He looked down at his child whose cries had already subsided into sniffles. She seemed alright. She was a tough little munchkin, and God knows he’d survived far worse scrapes as a child than this one. His heartbeat was returning to normal and the ice pack seemed to be doing its job. The bump appeared less angry, less red. In a little while, it would be nothing more than a small bruise, which they both would still have to explain to Helga when she came home.

  “Do you think we should take her to the clinic and let them check it out?” Margaret asked, still worried.

  “No. Not unless anything else develops. Let’s just keep her calm and awake for the next hour and see how she’s doing then. If she gets a headache or nausea, I’ll take her in, but otherwise, I think she’ll be okay.”

  “Alright then. Can I help? You were up. Did you need something?”

  “I was after a glass of water and some aspirin.”

  “I’ll get that for you.” She went to the counter, grabbing a glass and filling it before finding some aspirin in the medicine cabinet. “Here. There are two.” She handed over two small, white pills.

  Herman sat down, holding Therese with one arm, balancing the makeshift ice pack on her head while he popped the pills and swallowed them down with a swig of water.

  “You’re sick, Papa?” Therese asked.

  He smiled. “You’ve given me your headache, which means your head should be feeling pretty good now. Does it?”

  She grinned. “You can’t take my headaches.”

  “What? Of course I can. I’m your papa and I have magical powers.” He waved his free hand over her face like a magician. “Alacazam!” He snapped his fingers. “See? I bet your head doesn’t hurt, does it?”

  “You’re silly, papa!” She laughed.

  “Silly and magical. Ha!”

  Herman sat entertaining Therese while Margaret set about preparing dinner. It wasn’t part of her usual babysitting duties, but guilt drove her to it. She hoped it would help Helga not be quite so distraught once she learned that Therese had been injured on her watch, not that she would blame her, but that didn’t matter, because Margaret blamed herself. By the time Helga arrived, a little more than an hour had passed, and Therese was feeling better. In light of her recovery, Helga wasn’t quite as upset as everyone thought she would be. Faust, on the other hand, was dog-tired after very little sleep. He ate dinner and then went to get ready for another long, cold night, hopefully one that at least provided some answers if nothing else. He prayed that his shift would be uneventful otherwise, a prayer that, as the evening progressed, proved to be unanswered.

  Chapter Four

  The station house was in a state of chaos. Captain Rheinhardt was missing. No one had seen or heard from him, least of all, the dayshift Captain, Maximilian Schneider, who remained to cover the night shift while launching an investigation into Rheinhardt’s whereabouts. Worse, Sgt. Herring called in sick. A junior officer was pulled off foot patrol to man the desk in his absence, leaving them short.

  “Faust!” Schneider bellowed from his office as Herman passed his door to clock in. “Come in here.”

  Herman hesitated, knowing he’d catch hell if he failed to clock in on time. “Sir,” he stepped inside the doorway, a questioning look on his face. “I need to punch in.”

  “It can wait.” Schneider insisted, pointing at the chair opposite his desk.

  Faust took a seat, waiting.

  The captain held a stack of papers in his hand. Herman recognized them as the report he’d written up and put on Rheinhardt’s desk the night before. “I’ve read your report.” He sighed, clearly tired and more than a little aggravated. “Start from the beginning. I want to know who this woman was.”

  Faust fidgeted, clasping his hands before him. “I can only tell you what Rheinhardt told me, sir. Her name was Edith Meyer Hoffmann. She was smuggled outside of the wall somehow with the help of her brother, Gunter Meyer. It was a routine traffic stop for me until I discovered he was harboring someone inside his vehicle. I brought them in to give a statement and Herring took them in for processing. Per our protocol, I informed the captain, and when he learned her name, he was the one who told me she was the wife of an East German scientist who works for the Soviets, in some place called Obolensk.”

  “It’s not a place, Faust, it’s the scientific arm of the Russian government for biological warfare.”

  “He said something similar. Anyhow, next thing I knew, the woman was dead in her holding cell, and both Rheinhardt and Meyer were gone. Herring said they’d left earlier, that the captain was taking him home.”

  “Didn’t you think that was odd?” Schneider drilled.

  “Not really. I brought them in to the station. Meyer’s car was left behind. I was going to send someone for it, but if the captain wanted to take him to it, or home, it wasn’t my business.”

  Schneider stared down his nose at Faust for a long minute. “What else? Did Rheinhardt say anything else? Did he make any calls?”

  Herman blinked. “Yes. At least, he was making a call before I left his office to type up the report.”

  “To whom?”

  Faust thought back. “He commented that the LKA would want to talk to her. That’s all I know.”

  The captain made a note. “I’ll have the phone log checked.”

  “Sorry, sir, but any word on her brother? Did anyone inform him?”

  Schneider looked up and sat back in his chair, eyeing the young officer. “No. Gunter Meyer has not been informed.”

  This just seemed wrong to Herman. “I don’t understand. This was his sister. He needs to know. I’ll go myself if necessary. I know we’re short-handed tonight—”

  “He’s dead, Officer Faust.”

  Herman paused, his mouth hanging open.

  “Meyer’s body was found earlier today floating in the Havel River five miles downstream from his home. The coroner is performing a rush autopsy, but the preliminary findings are fairly conclusive. He was shot three times in the chest. Either he died first and was thrown into the river, or he drowned as a result of his injuries. What I need is a forensics report on the bullets and final word from Doctor Menghala. Oh, and I’ve sent an investigator to Sgt. Herring’s home. It seems far too suspicious under the circumstances for him to be calling in sick.”

  “Actually, he began feeling under the weather last night, not long after the paramedics carried Frau Hoffmann’s body out,” Faust shared.

  Schneider stood, picking up his phone as he angrily punched the numbers, dialing. “And why didn’t you note this in your report?”

  Faust was taken aback. “It had nothing to do with the case, sir.”

  The captain grumbled, waiting for someone to pick up. “It’s Schneider. Send at HazMat team to Sgt.
Herring’s home. Lock it down, quickly! He had contact with the body.” He hung up and began pacing. Finally, he stepped around his desk and past Herman where he pushed the office door shut with a bang.

  Faust jumped in his seat.

  “Herman,” Schneider began, trying for a more calm tone of voice, “there’s more.”

  Faust looked at him, fear creeping into his blue eyes. “What is it?”

  Schneider came back and sat on the end of his desk, looking down at Herman. “The paramedic, the one who performed CPR, is also sick, getting worse by the hour.”

  “What? But, sir, I was the first to begin CPR on her...”

  “Did you come into contact with her blood?” Schneider asked, deadly serious as he stood and backed up. “Do you feel ill?”

  “No. Not at all. Well, I had a bit of a headache earlier, but I took some aspirin and it went away.”

  “Any coughing? Fever? Bleeding from your ears, eyes, or mouth?”

  “No. None of that. I feel fine and I didn’t get any blood on myself. I did the chest compressions until the paramedics arrived. It was Herring who performed the mouth to mouth...at my direction,” he said in growing horror. “Oh, dear God. Is he going to die?”

  Schneider seemed only slightly relieved. “We need to get you checked out right away, Faust, just in case.”

  Herman gripped the arms of his chair. “But my wife, my daughter?”

  “One crisis at a time. I’ll send a medical team to pick them up. First, let’s get you to the hospital. I’ll have an ambulance here to pick you up, but in the meantime, I need you to go into a holding cell, for all our protection.”

  Faust stood, feeling shaky as fear seeped into his bones. Worry for his family muddled his thinking. “Okay, sure. But, how? Why? What the hell was she carrying?”

  Schneider preceded him to the door, throwing it open wide and stepping out of Herman’s way. “The hospital coroner. She discovered the organism in Hoffmann’s blood during routine lab tests. It’s a fast-acting toxin that attacks the white blood cells and breaks down the lining of healthy cells. To put it in laymen’s terms, it was inserted into a virus that causes cells in the body to degrade until a person bleeds to death. The coroner is almost one hundred percent sure it only spreads through contact with the blood and body fluids, but until we know for sure it’s not airborne, we need to keep you confined.”

  They walked down the hall and through central command to the hallway leading to the holding cells. Schneider punched in the code and allowed Faust to enter the secure area.

  “Cell number six is off limits for now until we get a decontamination crew in to clean it, so I’ll put you next door in five.” He entered the code and the steel door to cell number five rolled open.

  Herman stood looking into the small, depressing interior, disbelief written all over his face. He looked at Captain Schneider. “Will you let me know once my wife and daughter are at the hospital?”

  “Of course. You’ll probably arrive at the same time.”

  Faust nodded, and taking a deep breath, stepped inside. The door began rolling closed immediately behind him.

  Chapter Five

  The examination took no more than twenty minutes. Doctor Zara Liebermann checked Faust’s eyes, ears, throat, and then drew several vials of blood. She sent those off to the lab, reassuring him as she did.

  “I see no signs of hemorrhaging. Your focus is clear and you’re not showing any signs associated with such.” She lifted Faust’s arms out. “Hold them here,” she said. Doctor Liebermann let go, watching to see if either of Herman’s arms suddenly fell. Neither did. “When a person has a brain hemorrhage, they experience symptoms of stroke. Your speech is clear, no weakness on either side. If you’d contracted this virus the coroner discovered upon contact with the deceased, you’d already be exhibiting symptoms of full infection. You were lucky, Officer Faust.”

  Herman sighed, then quickly looked up. “And my wife, Helga? Our daughter?”

  Doctor Liebermann pulled off the rubber exam gloves, her lips pursed. She sat down on the stool, looking Faust in the eye. “Your wife is asymptomatic,” she began.

  Faust felt relief flood him, but it was short-lived.

  “But your daughter,” Liebermann shook her head, “has a high fever, and if we can’t bring it down, she’ll begin to have seizures. Her lab work is pending, but her symptoms do not coincide with what we currently know. Did she have any contact with you following your experience with Edith Meyer Hoffmann?”

  His heart constricted. “I don’t know...” he paused. “When I came home this morning, I did see her, of course.” He thought back. “I remember picking her up in the kitchen. I was still in uniform, but,” he shook his head, emotions tightening his throat, “I should have been more careful. I didn’t think.”

  Liebermann patted his arm. “Don’t beat yourself up. As I said, what she presents with is not at all in line with what we know of this virus. Still, she is a child, and what little we know about this might affect children in a different manner. We won’t know until the report comes back from the lab. Right now, we have her in isolation, receiving fluids and antibiotics to bring down the fever and help her fight off any infection.” Liebermann stood. “Truly, her condition seems more appropriate to a concussion than a virus, but—”

  Faust jumped up. “She had a fall!”

  “When?”

  Herman ran a hand through his hair. “Sometime in the afternoon. I woke with a headache and went to the kitchen. My mother-in-law was there with Therese. They’d just come in. She said she’d fallen off her tricycle, but that it was just a bump.” He looked hopeful.

  The doctor nodded. “I’ll let you know when her labs come back. In the meantime, I’m ordering a CAT Scan.” She headed toward the door.

  “Can I see my wife?”

  Liebermann turned. “She’s in the next room. I’ll send her in.” She left.

  Faust paced, waiting. He didn’t need to wait long. Helga ran through the door and straight into his arms.

  “Herman, what in God’s name is going on?”

  He held her close, breathing in her scent. “I don’t exactly know yet.”

  “But something is wrong with Therese.” Pain filled her voice.

  He looked down into her blue eyes. “I know. The doctor thinks it’s a concussion. She’s ordering head x-rays or some such.”

  “A concussion? From what?” Then she remembered. “The fall off her tricycle? Oh my God!” Tears pooled in her eyes, falling down her cheeks. “But mother said it was just a bump. Nothing at all, and Therese was fine. I saw her. She was okay. Just a little tired maybe.”

  “I don’t know, darling. It may have been more of a bump than we all realized. We’ll just have to wait and see what this CAT Scan shows. At least it does not seem to be what affected the lady who died at the station. For that, we can be thankful.”

  “But her fever keeps rising. It began right before the damned police showed up at our door with an ambulance waiting.” She suddenly became angry, pounding on his chest. “Why didn’t you call? I was terrified!”

  Faust grabbed her hands, pulling her in close. “I’m so sorry, Helga. I, too, was caught off guard the minute I walked into work, and then Schneider detained me, put me in isolation in one of our cells. I couldn’t call. He said he would take care of you both, make sure you were seen to. I’m so sorry.” He’d never felt so helpless. They stood there, in the middle of the exam room, holding on to each other, silently praying their daughter would be alright. As the night wore on, the situation worsened.

  News came in the form of lab and radiology results. Therese Faust was negative for the newly discovered virus, but her CAT Scan concluded severe concussion resulting in rapid brain swelling. Her little body could not fight both the swelling and the fever, and seizures began to wrack her. An intense discussion with Doctor Liebermann ended with the decision to medically induce a comatose state which would allow the brain time to heal and for the swe
lling to reduce. Herman and Helga could only watch, pain in their eyes and fear in their hearts as their daughter was hooked up to a multitude of monitors and IVs.

  ***

  At 7:00 a.m., a tall man with dark hair and eyes walked down the hallway and entered the ICU. His brow was set in a deep furrow. He unbuttoned his overcoat and leaned over the nurse’s desk. “I’m looking for Faust. Herman Faust. His daughter is a patient—”

  “Joseph.” Faust exited his daughter’s room three doors down from the nursing station.

  The dark-haired man turned, recognizing the voice. “Herman,” he quickly thanked the nurse, and met Faust halfway. They stood facing each other, one man concerned, and the other, barely holding it all together. “What’s the news?”

  Faust rubbed his face, exhaustion in the gesture. “I’m so sorry to have called you so early...”

  “Don’t worry about that. What can I do? How can I help?”

  Faust sighed, looking at his friend, Joseph Heinz. Moisture welled in his blue eyes as he noted the sincerity in Heinz’s own. As usual, his old pal was calm and collected, and ready to help. It was who Joseph was. He didn’t rile easily, and his first instinct was always to listen, then find a way to make a situation better. Most people who met him thought the tall, quiet man couldn’t be bothered with their problems, until he turned his attention on them, focusing in on them like a laser. Joseph had an ability to see the big picture in all things, even if he sometimes skipped over the minutia. He could connect the dots of obscure concepts in ways that made him an ideal candidate for police work. It was a direct complement to Faust’s own way of laying things out point by point. They’d made a great partnership while in the academy, helping each other through the stages, completing their training near the top of their class.

  “Therese is in an induced coma. The doctor hopes this will help her body heal, giving it the time and rest it needs so the swelling will go down in her brain.”

  “I can’t believe this happened from just falling off a tricycle.” Joseph sighed, speaking quietly. “So how long will it take?”