A Walk Among the Dead

by Fanning, Fred

  “Kurt, let’s leave here at 8:15 pm.”

  “Sounds good, I’m taking a nap until then.”

  At 8:00 pm Günter and Kurt cleaned themselves up and at 8:15 pm left for Reinhardt’s home. Minutes before 9:00 pm they arrived at the home, parking out of the street lights. They walked in the dark up to the house’s rear entrance. Kurt rapped on the back door. Within a few moments, Freda answered. After they had greeted each other, Freda motioned for them to join her and Reinhardt in the family room.

  “Come, everyone sit and talk about things to come,” said Reinhardt.

  “As I said earlier to Kurt, we have a small window of opportunity for a quick mission. Johann von Manntoell is out of town for another day. We need to get into his hotel room and take pictures of the documents he has that deal with the missing money,” said Freda.

  “Kurt and Günter, we need you to get into Johann von Manntoell’s room and take those pictures. We also need you to drop the photos off at the photo shop on Saargemünder Strasse. Freda will pick them up there,” said Reinhardt.

  “Got it, we will take care of it,” said Kurt.

  “Yes, I am with Kurt,” said Günter.

  “Good, I’m glad to hear I can still count on you both. Günter, let me speak with you on the way out,” said Reinhardt.

  “Gladly Reinhardt,” said Günter. He smiled broadly as he followed Reinhardt.

  Freda grabbed Kurt’s arm as they moved to the door. She held him while Reinhardt and Günter walked outside to talk.

  “Kurt, you know what you and Günter have done has caused a great deal of problems for Reinhardt, don’t you?” asked Freda.

  “Yes, yes I do.” His voice was shaking.

  “Reinhardt has decided that there is a way that you can make it up to him. If you are willing?” asked Freda.

  “Freda I would do anything for Reinhardt,” said Kurt. Kurt lived next to Reinhardt in East Germany. Kurt wanted to be a police officer liked Reinhardt, but his weight and poor physical abilities made him ineligible. Reinhardt was flattered by Kurt’s attention and called in favors to get Kurt in and through the academy. This was something Kurt would never forget.

  “After you take the pictures at the hotel, Reinhardt wants you to get Günter out in the woods and kill him. He also wants you to drop his body somewhere near the Wannsee Lake.”

  “My God Freda, do you mean it?” asked Kurt.

  “It is not me asking, Kurt. It is Reinhardt and yes he means it,” said Freda.

  “This is going to be tough because I’ve worked with Günter for a long time,” said Kurt.

  “This is for Reinhardt, Kurt,” said Freda.

  “I don’t like it Freda, but for Reinhardt I’ll do it,” said Kurt.

  Kurt and Günter walked around the back of the house into the dark. Reinhardt waited in the backyard while Freda was at the back door. After several minutes, Reinhardt returned to the home.

  “Damn him. Why did he make me do this?” asked Reinhardt. His face was flush with anger.

  “He has changed since the wall came down,” said Freda.

  “Yes you are right, but he has been with me for so long,” said Reinhardt.

  “I spoke to Kurt and he agreed to do the task,” said Freda.

  “Good ole Kurt. I still have him,” said Reinhardt.

  Meanwhile, Kurt and Günter got into the car and headed for the Apartment-Hotel-Dahlem. They drove to the hotel and parked on a side street. They walked around and next to the hotel. As they passed the hotel, Kurt slipped to the side of the building in the shadows. He worked his way around to the back and found a door to the basement.

  Günter walked to the corner and sat on the bus stop bench for a few minutes. No one else was around. Günter walked back towards the hotel and slipped beside the house just as Kurt had done. He saw Kurt ahead waiting at the door. Kurt saw him and nodded his head. Kurt then pulled a tool from his pocket and jimmied the lock on the door. Within seconds, the door was opened. Kurt and Günter slowly and quietly walked in the door and saw a light at the end of the hall. Thankfully the stairs were not within sight of the person in the lobby. Police Officer Hammer had told them Johann von Manntoell was in room 203. They climbed the stairs, and at room 203, Kurt again pulled his tool and jimmied the lock. They were both in the door within seconds.

  Inside Günter went to work locating the pictures, newspapers, and other documents that could provide information. He handed them to Kurt to photograph. Kurt skillfully worked the camera as he took photos of each item and gave them back to Günter, who placed them exactly where they were found. Within ten minutes, they were complete and ready to leave. Günter checked the hall and quickly and quietly moved out the door, down the hall, and down the stairs with Kurt close on his heels. Within seconds, they were safe in the basement. They quickly retraced their steps out the door with Kurt locking it behind them. Günter proceeded from around the house and walked slowly to the car around the corner. Kurt followed him, but at the sidewalk, he turned toward the bus stop and sat on the bench. Within a few minutes, a car pulled up the side street to the bus stop. Günter turned off the lights. Kurt got up from the bench and walked towards the car. Once there, he climbed in with Günter. After a few seconds, Günter pulled away from the curb and they proceeded to the farmhouse. As they were driving Kurt made a request.

  “Günter I hate to bother you, but a friend owes me some money. I was wondering if you could run out by his house so I can collect. We could get some beer with the money.”

  “Is it far?”

  “No, just out near the Wannsee.”

  “Sounds like a good idea.”

  As they got close to the lake, Kurt gave Günter directions.

  “Turn right here. It’s just up ahead. Now turn here into this gravel driveway,” said Kurt.

  After a few seconds, Kurt said, “Pull over here.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “You know wives, his won’t be happy if she sees me.”

  “I see,” said Günter.

  As Günter pulled the car to the side of the driveway, Kurt pulled a gun from his coat. Kurt pulled the trigger and the bullet struck Günter in the head. Before he knew what was happening, Günter was dead. Kurt quickly pulled the parking brake, stopping the car. He got out and walked around to the driver’s side. He pulled Günter from the car and dragged him to the edge of the lake. As he laid the body near the edge, it slid into the water.

  Kurt returned to the car and drove to the farmhouse. A few times he had trouble seeing through the tears. Once there, he took a hot shower to clean the filth off. Unfortunately, it didn’t erase what he had done to his colleague. He had drunk several glasses of vodka before he fell asleep on the couch. He awoke mid-morning and took the film to the photo shop as directed. From there he stopped at the coffee shop on Saargemünder Street. This was a small place with no inside seating. He got a large coffee and walked to a pay phone nearby. He called and left a voice mail for Freda. He then drove to the farmhouse to finish the bottle of vodka.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Back in Berlin, Maggie pulled the Hans von Manntoell report out of her drawer. She wiped the chalkboard clean and drew a chalk line down the middle from top to bottom. As she read through the report, she wrote down highlights in the left column. She then did the same with the Helga von Manntoell report in the right column. She sat back at her desk, sipped her cold coffee, and stared at the board, looking for connections between the two murders. As she focused on the board, the first thing she noticed was the extreme amount of violence in both cases. She also saw the time of day and method were similar. Her focus was broken by the phone ringing.

  “Hello, my name is Edna Tabler from St Marienberg Clinic in Helmstedt. I was asked to call you with an update on Käthe Woolwine. Can I get your full name, position, and badge number?”

  “Yes, my full name is Magdalena Hoffmann, Deputy Inspector, badge number N4V4M3.”

  “Thank you, Deputy Inspector. She is
in critical condition, still on a breathing machine, and her kidneys have shut down. We have her on dialysis and in a drug induced coma.”

  “Thank you, can you give me her prognosis?”

  “I spoke to her doctor just moments ago and her prognosis is that she will not wake from the coma. Her body will continue to shut down due to the internal damage from the beating she received.”

  “Thank you. I greatly appreciate your information.”

  “You are welcome, goodbye.”

  Maggie made a few notes on her legal pad then called the Oskar-Helen-Heim clinic, Silke Mencken was slowly improving. She continued to slip in and out of consciousness; however, her body temperature was normal and many of her vital signs were back to normal. She had some awful injuries to her face and head that appeared to have been caused by a large boot.

  Maggie made a few more notes on her legal pad then called Johann to arrange a meeting.

  “Johann, can we get together this morning?”

  “Sure would you like me to come to you?”

  “Yes, I have notes on a chalkboard and want to work with them,” said Maggie.

  “Sounds good, I will catch a cab there now.”

  “See you in a while.” Within 30 minutes Johann arrived. He made his way to Maggie’s office. He knocked on the open door jamb.

  “May I come in?”

  “Yes, please come in,” said Maggie. She put her cigarette out in a small ashtray next to her.

  “Here is the chalkboard I spoke to you about,” she said.

  “Let me look at it for a few minutes,” said Johann. Maggie got them each a cup of coffee from the break room. When she returned, Johann was seated in a chair, enthralled by the chalkboard. The smell of strong coffee competed against the smell of cigarettes for attention.

  “What do you think?” she asked.

  “Wow,” he said.

  “This is good information, but I am still missing a great deal.” She handed him his coffee and sat in the chair beside him.

  “First I would like you to tell me about your father,” she said, pulling out a pad of paper and pen from her bag

  “I don’t really want to, but if it will help catch his killer I certainly will.”

  “I can’t solve this without knowing more about him,” she said.

  “My father was a proud man of distinct breeding. He lost a leg in the World War II, which caused him to limp. This wasn’t a strange sight in post-war Germany. During the war, many were crippled. My father came from a long line of Prussian Cavalry officers. He used to breed and sell horses on the family estate. He was the eldest of four sons and destined to lead the family in the years ahead. After the First World War, he was alive but bruised. He was wounded several times and had medals for bravery and courage under fire. His most precious was the Iron Cross placed around my neck by Baron von Hindenburg himself. Also in World War I he lost two brothers. As my grandfather got older, he began to assume more and more of the duties around the estate. My father returned to active service in World War II. He served as the commander of an SS Cavalry Battalion. He fought in two short but successful campaigns before returning to Berlin to sit on the SS General Staff. He was called the poster soldier for Hitler’s Master Race. Standing over six feet tall with blonde hair and blue eyes, he always stood straight and tall with immense pride. In previous trips to Berlin, he had been used by the German Staff as a symbol of the future of the German people. It was at this point my father gave everything to Hitler. In a repayment for his devotion, he was given a transfer to the Russian Front to lead a brigade in the summer of ‘42 assault against Stalingrad. There my father was in a tank battle where he lost his leg in the explosion. The war was over for him. The rest of the war, he spent in clinics from his wounds. During the battle of Berlin, we went to Wittenberg. After the war, we returned to Berlin where my father was able to buy a flat and worked for the U.S. Army as a gardener. He led an uneventful life until his death.”

  “Now it is my turn to say wow,” said Maggie.

  “So what of that can you use?” asked Johann.

  “I don’t know, but I took several notes that I will go through later,” said Maggie.

  “Now we need to contact the U.S. Consulate and get permission to review documents at the Berlin Document Center here in Berlin,” said Maggie.

  “We? Does that include me?”

  “Yes, I want your opinion on some of the documents.”

  “Who could we speak to about that?” asked Johann.

  “I will talk to the U.S. Consulate Public Affairs Officer,” said Maggie

  “You think they will give us permission?”

  “Yes, my father was American Soldier at the U.S. Consulate years ago. That provides me with a unique connection.”

  “Wow, I never would have thought you were American.”

  “My mother is German so I am half American. My parents were married and lived here in Germany. My father was killed in a car accident near Mannheim. My mother and I moved back to Berlin after that.”

  “Sorry to hear about your father. Your mother is still alive, though.”

  “Yes, she lives in a center here in Berlin. She is in bad health.”

  “I will keep her in my prayers. When do you think we will go?” asked Johann.

  “I am hoping tomorrow, will that work for you?”

  “Yes anytime tomorrow works for me.”

  “Why don’t you go back to your room and get some rest. I will give you a call later with the time,” said Maggie.

  “Thank you, I could use some rest.” Johann walked outside and hailed a taxi. He rode back to the hotel. Once there, he collapsed into bed. Later that afternoon Maggie called Johann to tell him about the appointment at the Berlin Document Center. She agreed to pick up Johann at the hotel.

  Officer Erich Hammer notified Freda about the most recent meeting between Deputy Inspector Hoffmann and Johann von Manntoell. He even had photos of the chalkboard that he would give her that night at dinner. Freda took a drive to the photo shop to pick up the photographs from Kurt. She parked out front and went in to quickly pick up the pictures. The clerk found them within seconds. Freda paid her and was out of the store in a few minutes. She immediately drove to Reinhardt’s home. Once there, she taped the pictures to a wall. Freda needed to know what Maggie knew to protect them. She then sorted through them, placing them into three categories. The connections are obvious. I wonder if Maggie has made them. She taped a piece of paper with the heading at the top of each collection of pictures. Reinhardt peeked in a couple of times while Freda was working, shook his head in approval and went back to reading the newspaper.

  After organizing the pictures, Freda returned home to dress for dinner with Erich. Erich picked her up right on time and took her to a restaurant at Mexico Platz. After an appetizer of snails and the main course of steak with krauterbutter, he gave Freda the black and white 5x8 photos of Maggie’s blackboard. He then dropped her off at her home. She would take the images to Reinhardt’s the next morning.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  At 10:00 am, Maggie picked up Johann at the hotel and drove to the center. The building was one story brick with no windows and a metal door. There was no landscaping and it appeared more like a utility building than an archive. The interior of the building smelled like mold or mildew but was nicely decorated. Once there, the director had a research librarian give them the tour and explain how it worked. She told them that the center was created to centralize all the documents found and prepared for the Nuremberg Trials that convicted many members of the NAZI Party. The document center was under U.S. control. The librarian pointed to two shelves of material that went from floor to ceiling where the files were located for Hans von Manntoell. In fact, they even had data on his wife Helga and the birth of their son Johann.

  The librarian left them alone to review the archives but warned them that none of the data could be removed from the center. They first reviewed Hans von Manntoell’s file. It contained
his family record that proved he had no Jewish blood and, therefore, allowed him to join the SS organization. The records showed his assignments, his awards, and training. It recorded the loss of his leg and included some of his other medical records. The file was very informative but added nothing to the information they were looking for.

  They turned to Helga’s file. Hers contained much of the same information proving she had no Jewish relatives. There were a few items that explained the work done to help her get pregnant. Permission was given by the highest levels of the German Government for her medical support. Again, the file was informative but provided nothing that they needed.

  Finally, they reviewed the record on Johann, which also included medical treatment and procedures used to help Helga get pregnant. The file contained information about the birth and registration of Johann. It also showed documents that proved he had no Jewish ancestry that prepared him for inclusion in the NAZI Party.

  Their research didn’t provide anything that told Maggie and Johann about the Berlin Society of Theosophy. Maggie spoke to the librarian about files on the Society. The librarian explained that it would take a day or two to locate any that may exist. The librarian promised to call her when and if she found any records.

  “May I have a form to request copies?” asked Maggie.

  “Yes, here you go,” said the librarian.

  “I will drop this off at the U.S. Consulate,” said Maggie.

  They stopped for tea at a café across the street from the Berlin Document Center. While there they took a few minutes to talk about the next move. After reviewing data in the center, it became apparent to Maggie that she needed to cast a wider net.

  “I did some research and found out that the headquarters of the Theosophical Society is in New York. I think the next step is for me to go there and see what they know,” said Johann.

  “That sounds like a good idea.”