The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set

by Michele E. Gwynn

  He looked at her busted out Peugeot. “Well, we’ll take my car.” He seemed happier about that and unlocked his Mercedes. Once he helped her in, and slid her crutches into the backseat, she dialed Faust.

  He answered on the third ring. “Herman? Elsa. Change of plan. I know where Ivchencko is hiding.” She relayed the story, and then sat through his speech about her not being careful. When he’d exhausted his ire, he ordered them both to go straight back to her place where he would meet them. He had calls to make to tactical first.

  The ride back was quiet. Elsa’s mind was racing. If they let this play out, Ivchencko would be arrested. This might sound good at the outset, but with his wealth and connections, he would escape justice. He’d tortured her, tortured countless numbers of other young women, and sold them into bondage. He also shot Joseph nearly taking yet another person from her that she cared about. Vitaly said he was also intent on killing Lukas, not to mention herself. This man couldn’t be allowed to run free and hurt anyone else. What if he came after Anno? The idea of any of them being harmed made her heart break and her blood boil. No. Arrest was too good for him.

  “What are you thinking about over there?” Lukas cast a sideways glance at her. She was chewing her thumbnail again. A sure sign her mind was at work.

  “Nothing. I’m just worried is all.”

  He took her hand. “Don’t. I’m here. And I’m not going to leave your side again. I’m so sorry that I did.” He looked at the road, mentally beating himself up for leaving her in the car, thinking she would be safe. It was thoughtless and amateur. He knew better.

  She squeezed his fingers gently. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

  Lukas sighed. “It’s not. But it will be. I promise.”

  When they arrived home, Elsa excused herself, going to the restroom. She needed a moment alone, even away from Lukas. He paced the living room, trying to field the questions flying out of Anno’s mouth. He was relieved when Faust finally arrived. While they waited for Jager and Kelner, he explained the new plan. Elsa was to remain behind with her brother and the two guards. Heinz was out because of his injury. Mahler insisted on being a part of it against Joseph’s wishes, but with the SEK set to storm the flat in two hours, she would be stationed behind the lines while they did the dirty work. Hugo wanted desperately to go along, but Faust circumvented that request by going through his captain who assigned him to guard Heinz. The marines were liaisons to the unit on call in the event Ivchencko got away. They could travel over international lines with the surrounding countries and pursue. With all possible scenarios covered, Faust gave the go ahead. Everyone had their part to play.

  HEINZ FUMED A LITTLE. He didn’t like Birgitta going on this bust, but she wouldn’t listen to him. He sat in the living room with Hugo who damn near pouted about not being included.

  “Believe me, Beimer. If I could bring her back, I’d send you in her place.”

  “I’m not complaining, Kommissar. It’s an honor to be looking out for you.”

  “I’m surprised you said that with a straight face.” Heinz ran a hand through his hair. Hugo blushed, knowing he didn’t sound sincere when he said it, although he very much respected Heinz.

  With nothing else to do, Heinz put down the stack of files, and picked up the ledger. He began going over the names on the first page. The book was thick, and the dates indicated it contained more than ten years of entries. This would take a while.

  Chapter Twenty

  ONE BLOCK DOWN, IN the two-hundred block of Weide Strasse, the black, unmarked truck parked. Inside, the SEK tactical unit waited. Two houses over and across the street from 115 Weide Strasse, an unmarked police car sat against the curb. Inside, Faust, Mahler, and Lukas kept an eye on the ground-floor corner flat. There was a light on in the kitchen, but the shades were drawn making it impossible to know exactly which room Ivchencko was in. It was now six-twenty-three. The sun set, and darkness fell. It was time.

  “Team One, secure the perimeter,” Faust ordered through his two-way radio.

  A team of five men dressed in black and outfitted with night-vision quietly climbed out of the back of the truck. They approached along the sidewalk fence line that was overgrown with bushes and vines. Anyone looking out their windows would see nothing as the men passed crouched low. They spread out at the building. Four took over the north, south, east, and west positions. The fifth entered and made his way up the stairs to the roof. It was a relatively small building of flats, only two stories with twelve units, six on each floor. Measures had to be taken to protect the innocent occupants.

  “Team One in position,” came the reply over the radio.

  “Team Two, secure the flat.” Faust watched as the second team of six men moved fast to cover the two windows facing out, and the front door inside the hall.

  A woman carrying a small child exited the building. She made her way down the steps and came face to face with the SEK agent on the east door. As she opened her mouth to scream, he stepped forward, clamping a hand over it. He whispered in her ear and led her away where another agent from the truck rushed forward to take her. The child began to cry.

  “Christ. There’s always one hiccup, isn’t there?” Faust muttered, one twitchy finger tapping out a staccato rhythm on the back of his two-way radio.

  “I don’t think it set off any alarms. There’s no movement from the blinds,” Lukas stated, as he observed the flat through a pair of night vision binoculars.

  “At least she’s out of the way. We don’t need any civilian casualties, especially not a child.” Mahler pointed out the obvious.

  “No, we don’t.” Faust took a deep breath.

  Static on the speaker, and then a voice informed them, “Team Two in position. Waiting on your mark.”

  Mahler reached out and put her hand on Herman’s shoulder. He pushed the button on the speaker. “In three, two, one...Go!”

  An agent kicked in the front door. He lobbed a flash grenade inside. The device exploded with a bang. Lights went on in several of the other units. Two men outside of the windows fired smoke bombs into the flat shattering glass and sending shards flying in every direction. More lights came on, and front doors opened up and down the block. Upon seeing the commotion across the street, they quickly closed, and window blinds were shut, then pushed aside indicating civilians watching.

  One sound was missing, gunfire.

  Faust lifted the radio and spoke. “Status. I need a status. Do you have him?” Silence.

  Finally, “We have him. But you’re not going to like this.”

  Faust got out of the car followed by Mahler and Lukas. They ran across the street and into the building. There was smoke everywhere, and they had to wait while it cleared, not having their own gas masks. Fifteen frustrating minutes later, the commander declared it was safe to enter the apartment.

  Faust ran in, needing to know just what he wasn’t going to be happy about. He came to a stop in the kitchen, his face reflecting both shock and disappointment. There sat Yuri Ivchencko, throat sliced open, and a bullet through his head. It was not clear which mortal wound was inflicted first, but the message was certainly crystal clear, dead men tell no tales.

  Faust turned and kicked the wall. “Fuck!”

  The SEK commander raised an eyebrow. “There’s another body in the bathroom. We’ve identified him as the resident. We don’t believe he had any connection to Ivchencko.”

  “Of course not!” Faust vented his frustration. He paced, hands on hips, up and down the short hall. “How fresh are those wounds?”

  The commander looked closely at the gash in Ivchenko’s neck and the hole in his head. “Very. Judging by the fact that blood is still oozing, and there are no flies, I’d say we missed the killer by no more than half an hour.”

  “I want surveillance video from everyone on this block.” Faust walked out, fuming; his prize taken from him by another, and by only moments.

  Mahler and Lukas followed at a slower pace. She pulled out her p
hone and dialed Heinz. “Joseph. We found Ivchencko. Unfortunately, someone got to him before us.” Lukas listened as she paused. “Ja, dead. Execution-style. Looks like right before we got here. Okay. See you when I get home.” She hung up.

  “I should probably call Elsa.” Lukas’s face showed disappointment.

  “Why so glum? It’s good he’s dead. Even better if it was by his own people. That means we’re safe.” Mahler patted his arm.

  “Yeah, I suppose.”

  “But you’re still bummed about it?”

  “I wanted to be the one to kill him after what he did to Elsa.”

  Mahler chuckled. “I get that. I would’ve liked to put a bullet in him, too. After he shot Joseph, I could’ve torn him apart with my own two hands. No worries, Lukas. She knows you care. You’re still the hero.”

  He holstered his gun, and they headed to the car. “I wonder how his people found him so fast. Do you think Vitaly may have done it?”

  “I don’t know. He did betray him to us through Elsa. Maybe he didn’t think he had a choice.”

  He pulled out his phone. “Maybe.” He pulled up her name and hit ‘DIAL’. “Elsa. Hey, babe. We found him. He’s dead.”

  ELSA SAT ON TOP OF the lid of her commode and stared at her phone. She pulled up the Russian news webpage and scrolled down to the comments section. Under the display name of NoPainNoPleasure was a brief comment. Butchers looking for meat? Try rat special -YI/IE at 115 Weide Strasse, Berlin. There was one reply from display name HappyButcher. Delicious.

  She turned off the phone, pulled out the battery, and placed it on the floor inside a towel. Then, she reached over and turned on the shower, letting it run, the sound filling her ears, and buffering her activity from the guards in the living room. Quietly, Elsa picked up her Nellie stiletto boot and crushed it repeatedly with the heel. She wrapped the pieces in the towel and placed it inside the empty fast food bag that contained the remnants of her dinner. After ten minutes, she left the bathroom, changed clothes, and made her way out to the living area on her crutches.

  “Let me get that for you.” The officer jumped up and took the bag from her. “Is that trash?”

  “Yeah. That hit the spot. Danke.” Elsa sat down. The officer put the bag into her trash can.

  “It’s full. I can go dump it for you if you like?” He waited.

  “That would be great, yes. Thanks.”

  He tied the bag and lifted it free of the can. Elsa watched as he carried it out into the hall, and heard him open, then close the trash chute. When he came back in, she was playing video games with her brother. She laughed as Anno tried to shoot her avatar and failed miserably. “That’s what you get! Don’t mess with this Schupo!”

  HEINZ SAT ON THE COUCH in the dark. Beimer left after he delivered the news that Ivchencko was dead. There was no need for police protection for the invalid after that. He’d continued to go through the ledger page by page until he reached 2009. It was there he stopped. It was there that one name stood out. Marlessa Schubert. Taken May 10th, 2009 from Berlin. Times and dates showed her delivered to St. Petersburg May 24th of the same year. The delivery address said only Warehouse 214.

  Birgitta walked in. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” She turned on the lamp by the couch. She could see his face now. The look in his eyes was haunted. She rushed to his side. “What is it, Joseph? What’s wrong? Are you ill?” She reached up to feel his forehead.

  He shook her off. “No. I’m not ill.”

  She sat back. “Then what is it?”

  He pushed the ledger in his lap toward her. She looked down at it. “Okay. What am I looking at?”

  He pointed to one name. “It’s her.”

  “Who?” She read the name.

  “It’s Marlessa. It’s proof. I was right all those years ago.” A tear trickled down his cheek. “I was right, Birgitta. And I still couldn’t save her.”

  Understanding dawned. The cold case, the one that nearly destroyed him. The one he didn’t talk about. She put the ledger down on the coffee table and embraced him. He wrapped his arms around her, burying his face in her hair. “Tell me, Joseph. Tell me about her.” She crooned as she rubbed his back.

  He began, slowly at first, not knowing where to begin. He’d held it in for so long, that letting it out was painful. It took almost an hour before he sat back, exhausted. “I couldn’t save her then.”

  “It wasn’t your fault, Joseph. You did all you could with what you knew. Of course you couldn’t save her. If you could have, you would have done so.”

  “But I know now.” He pointed at the book. “I know now, and I will. If there’s any clue left, I’ll find it, and I will find her.” He reached out and pulled Birgitta to him, kissing her passionately. “Thank you.” He caressed her cheek. “You’re everything good in my world. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  Mahler smiled; her eyes tearing up. “You won’t ever have to wonder. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.”

  He grinned. “So, where would you like to go on our first date?”

  Epilogue

  ELSA WAS SMILING LIKE a fool as she patrolled the Tiergarten with Beimer. It was a beautiful spring day, cool outside, but not cold. Bright green leaves sprung out on tree branches, and tulips and irises bloomed. It was almost Easter, and in two weeks, she would begin the next level of training thanks to Direktor Herman Faust. She’d been put on the fast track the LKA. It would take many years of hard work, and schooling, but her career was set. Hugo also made an impression during the Ivchencko affair that got him noticed by the SEK. He would begin his own training next month. Even better, he’d proposed to Sigrid, and they were planning a fall wedding.

  Her relationship with Lukas had deepened. She’d made the colossal step to moving in with him and leaving the flat to Anno. He was now nineteen, and still in college. Grown. She continued to pay the rent, but the deal meant he had to keep his grades up and stay on course for graduation. It also meant he had to work part time to afford his own things. Growing up always came at a cost, but she was proud of her brother.

  She was prouder of Lukas who gave him that part time job making deliveries for the gallery. After her knee healed, she’d rewarded him many times over. Theirs was a very passionate relationship. Thankfully, her scars healed down to barely visible white lines. The less severe lashes disappeared completely, which was great. But it was the news she received that morning that had her feeling on top of the world.

  Birgitta called her early. She’d barely arrived at work to clock in when her phone rang. “What’s wrong,” was Elsa’s first response due to the hour.

  “What? Is that how you answer your phone?” She laughed.

  “Well, it’s early. Okay, then. Hallo! And what can I do for you today, Detective Mahler?” Elsa popped some coins into the vending machine to grab a coffee.

  “Well, dearest girl, you can agree to be my maid of honor.” She let that hang.

  Elsa stopped. Then she jumped up and down, squealing. Beimer thought she was having an epileptic fit.

  “Are you serious? He proposed?” She couldn’t stop smiling, and she kept hitting Hugo on the arm.

  “What are you going on about? Stop that!” He pulled himself away from her.

  “Heinz proposed to Mahler! They’re getting married!”

  Hugo grinned. “Well, it’s about time, don’t you think? They’re old, after all.”

  Birgitta yelled through the phone. “I heard that, Hugo!”

  He laughed, then leaned over the speaker and said, “Congratulations, Birgitta.”

  Elsa immediately agreed. “Of course I’ll be your maid of honor. We have so much to plan! I can’t wait. I’ll come by after shift, okay?”

  “Yes, that’s perfect. Bring Anno. Joseph would like us all to go have a family celebration dinner.”

  “Okay. See you then.” She hung up.

  Her day had been glorious since then. She and Hugo discussed their relationships, his upcoming wedding, a
nd now Heinz and Mahler’s wedding. The morning flew by. As they made another circuit around the park, a dark sedan pulled up keeping pace with them. Hugo finally noticed, and he put a hand on Elsa’s arm to stop her. She turned to look, seeing the car. It stopped.

  The door opened, and a tall man with a dark, short beard stepped out. He adjusted the lapels on his tailored suit. His clothes said money, but the hardness around his eyes, and the tattoos visible on his fingers said criminal. He approached.

  “Officer Elsa Kreiss?”

  She noted the Russian accent in his deep voice. “Yes.” She was on red alert. Beimer stood just in front of her, hand ready at his holster. It didn’t seem to faze the man.

  He reached into his jacket. Hugo unlatched the strap and gripped the handle. The man pulled out a white envelope.

  “This is for you.” He extended the hand, and Hugo took it, passing it back to her without taking his eyes off the Russian.

  The man turned and got back into the car. It drove off disappearing into the traffic. Hugo exhaled, and relaxed a little, still rattled. Elsa looked down and saw her name written in a flourish on the outside. She ripped it open, and found a letter addressed to her.

  Dearest Officer Kreiss, your assistance was appreciated. If you ever need a favor, find me. I am at your disposal. V. Brezhnev, a.k.a., The Butcher.

  “Well? What does it say?” Hugo asked, trying to see as she folded it quickly and stuffed it into her pocket.

  “It’s nothing, Hugo. Nothing.” She resumed walking.

  “It’s not ‘nothing’. Come on, Kreiss. After all we’ve been through?” He followed at her heels.

  “That’s exactly why it’s ‘nothing’. It’s better left buried. Trust me. We’re all going to be okay.”

  He wasn’t satisfied with her answer, but he also knew she was stubborn as a mule, and unless she wanted to tell him, he would not hear it otherwise. Elsa knew he was mad, so sought to get them back to the easy mood before the Russian showed up. “Don’t pout, Hugo. Your face will freeze like that.” She elbowed his side in a good-natured fashion. “Tell me, where will you and Sigrid go on your honeymoon?”