The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set

by Michele E. Gwynn

  Joseph could hear Birgitta rummaging through the fridge. He got up and walked to the bedroom. “A seminar to advance to my A16 for two weeks.” He cleared the bed and headed for the bathroom where he closed the door and turned on the sink faucet.

  “Not bad. Does this mean I have to put in a good word now to get you promoted?”

  Joseph chuckled. “It does, but I was already on the shortlist after the Ivchencko affair.”

  “Okay, at least it’s not a complete lie. I’ll stick to the truthy parts. Less problem remembering.”

  “Remember, you old goat, if you screw up, you’ll have ruined what will be a happy marriage.”

  Faust snorted. “And if you screw up, you’ll have ruined mine so we’re both on the hook, Heinz. FYI, I don’t like shit sandwiches.”

  “Got it, so let’s not mess this thing up.”

  “Once you’re in, I can’t help you anymore, not until you make it back to Swedish soil. Keep that in mind above all else.”

  Joseph turned off the faucet. “I will. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Seven a.m. sharp.” Faust hung up.

  A knock sounded on the door.

  “Yes?” Joseph poked his head out. Birgitta stood near his bed holding a handful of menus.

  “So, what are you in the mood for tonight? Chinese, Turkish, or Italian?”

  He eyed the lists realizing this meant he was sorely lacking in groceries. “That bad, eh?”

  She smiled. “Well, you have Muesli.”

  He bit his lip and leaned on the door jamb. “It’s a very good thing I am marrying you, Mahler.”

  She sauntered closer, grinning. “I know this. It’s a charity case, really. I couldn’t stand to see you wasting away from starvation anymore.”

  He wrapped his arms around her waist. “Oh, I see. So it wasn’t my good looks and charm.” He kissed her forehead.

  “No, not at all, not the charm part, at least. Good looks?” She eyed his face, taking her time.”

  “Mahler!” Heinz prompted her.

  She laughed. “Yes, it was your dark, brooding stares. So sexy!”

  He leaned down and kissed her lips, taking his time. Slowly, he pulled away. “That’s better. Italian.”

  She blinked. “What?”

  He kissed her again, laughing softly. “Let’s order Italian. I’m feeling particularly romantic tonight.”

  “Oh.” She let him hold her while she pulled out the menu for Valentino’s. “So what did Herman want?”

  “He’s picking me up in the morning to take me to the airport.”

  “So soon?” Her face held deep disappointment.

  “Yes. But you’ll be so busy with fittings and shopping, you’ll hardly miss me. And Elsa will help keep you occupied, I’m sure.”

  Birgitta sighed. “After we get married, I don’t want either of us to travel anywhere without the other. This is your last trip alone, Joseph. Try not to enjoy it too much.” She made light of it, but behind his eyes, Joseph winced.

  The last thing he was going to do on this trip was enjoy himself. In fact, it was going to be brutal. Hunting down the few clues he had in so short a period of time without any official help was going to be hell. He’d be lucky to make any connection at all between the ledger from the Vledelets and discovering what happened to his daughter’s friend once she was delivered to Warehouse 214. But he needed to try. His tattered soul demanded it.

  “I’d rather enjoy being here with you right now. Let’s go call in our order, and turn on some jazz, drink wine, eat, and maybe I will steal a few more kisses from my lovely bride-to-be,” he said.

  “Maybe I’ll let you!” She pulled out of his arms and ran back into the living room with a laughing Heinz hot on her trail.

  Chapter Three

  HEINZ SAT IN HIS SEAT with his head back. He closed his eyes as the Air Baltic flight sped down the runway heading for Saint Petersburg, Russia. He’d had a long and strange day. First, it was an emotional parting with Birgitta that morning.

  “Don’t forget to call me when you get there!” She’d sounded worried, her usual calm deserting her.

  “I promise.” The look in her eyes reminded him of an old Jewish woman his mother, Helen, once knew. Zara Lieberman had lived next door to the Heinz family, and was a survivor of the Holocaust. She didn’t speak often, but when she did, it was with strict purpose. When Joseph and his younger brother, David, played in the front yard, she would stare out her window at them. The look in her eyes was one that bespoke of remembered horrors. She seemed like she lived in a perpetual nightmare, and the two boys would make up stories about the spooky old witch next door. It wasn’t until Joseph was grown, and understood what the poor woman had gone through, that he was finally able to pinpoint what he saw in her eyes all those years ago. It was fear. Fear had found a home inside Frau Lieberman, and it refused to leave. It was fear he saw that morning growing in Mahler’s eyes, and he didn’t understand where hers sprang from.

  “What is it, love?” Joseph tossed his heavy coat into Herman’s waiting blue Volvo and stood on the curb with his fiancé.

  She bit her lip. “I don’t know. It’s nothing, I guess. Just a bad dream I had.” She shook it off, and wrapped her arms around his waist, laying her head upon his chest.

  Joseph stroked her hair and kissed her forehead. “Is that all? It’s just some boring accreditation seminars, nothing to worry about,” he lied, feeling like an ass.

  “I know. It’s silly. Just forget it and call me when you’re there.”

  “Okay.” With a finger beneath her chin, he tilted her head back. “I love that you worry so much for me. I’m a lucky man.” He kissed her.

  The kiss deepened before the loud sound of a throat clearing brought the two love birds back to reality.

  “I hear you, Herman!” Birgitta laughed. “You may have him—for now!”

  Faust leaned over to peek out of the open driver’s side door. He was wearing his usual earth-tones; Khaki pants, brown plaid shirt, brown wing-tip shoes, and beige blazer with dark brown leather patches on the elbows. “And I will happily give him back to you, Mahler.”

  Joseph climbed into the seat. “Tell Elsa I’ll call and check on her and Anno later tonight.” He closed the door and reached through the open window to tug Birgitta’s hand.

  “I can’t believe you still do that. She’s a grown woman, Joseph!” She admonished him for his overbearing protectiveness.

  “That doesn’t mean she doesn’t need looking out for. She might do something completely hair brained if I don’t check in. Anno, too.” His signature cynical gruffness colored his words.

  Birgitta laughed. “If you say so. Be safe.” She pulled her hand from his grasp and backed up.

  Herman waved before putting the car into gear and pulling away. Joseph blew her a kiss, then hit the button on the door, rolling up the window.

  “I have some papers for you,” he said.

  Faust glanced at him.

  “Legal papers.” He looked his old friend in the eye.

  “Are you planning on getting yourself killed?” Faust turned right onto the highway.

  “No. It’s just my will.”

  “Just your will?” Faust chuckled without humor.

  “And a few letters. One for Birgitta, one for Elsa, and one for Anno.” He pulled out a sealed yellow packet. “I’m placing this in your care in the event I don’t return.”

  “Joseph, what did I say about my lack of preference for shit sandwiches?”

  “I know, Herman, and I plan to be back in two weeks, but I will feel better knowing I have everything settled should it all go south. Oh, and there’s another...,” he pulled out a single envelope, placing it atop the yellow packet. “This is for the Schuberts. If anything goes wrong, I want Marlessa’s mother and father to know I died trying.”

  Faust sighed. “And what about your own daughter? What am I to tell her if her father doesn’t come home?”

  Joseph paused. “I have lett
ers for her and my brother with my lawyer.” He didn’t like thinking about Ingrid. It was painful. Their relationship had gone by the wayside ever since his divorce from her mother, Eva. Sure, he phoned her for her birthday and holidays, but the conversations were always short, stilted. He loved her with all his heart, and he hoped she would accept the invitation to come to his wedding. More than that, he hoped his lawyer would never need to call on her.

  “Then why do I get the dubious honor of delivering bad news to your fiancé and semi-adopted children?”

  Joseph threw his arm up over the seat and glared at Faust. “Because they know you, and they trust you. And if anyone can keep them calm by imparting the terrible news that I’d gone off to Russia to pursue a personal cold case, and then gotten myself killed, it’s you. I wouldn’t want any of them to hear that from a stranger.”

  “Hmph,” Faust grunted. “Maybe I’ll leave my own letters with a lawyer to deliver along with your letters because God knows Helga will kill me, and Birgitta will jump up and down on what’s left of my gizzards if anything happens to you.”

  Joseph patted his friend on the shoulder. “Cheer up, Herman. I may just come home in one piece.”

  “You’d better.”

  The rest of the ride was spent with Faust giving Joseph his itinerary. He handed over the round-trip ticket along with a fat envelope of his own. “Give this to my contact. She’s expecting it.”

  “Are you sure she will find me in such a large crowd?” Joseph was skeptical.

  “I’m sure. You’re not the first operative I’ve sent off, you know. I’ve been conducting this rodeo for a long time.”

  “And here I thought you were just the clown.” Heinz got out when Faust pulled up curbside to Tegal International Airport.

  “I suppose it goes without saying you should be careful. Don’t tangle with their police. I’d never be able to get you out of Siberia, and it’s cold as fuck there.”

  “I’ll stay below the radar.” Heinz walked to the back to pull his suitcase out of the boot. He tapped the back of the car once he closed the trunk. Faust gave a two-fingered wave and pulled into the stream of traffic going out of the airport.

  His flight to Stockholm had been routine. No problems, no delays. He’d landed and exited the jet making his way into the main terminal of Stockholm Arlanda Airport. He would need to pick up his checked luggage as if he were staying in the city, rip off the travel tag, and then check in later at the Air Baltic counter with his new identity. He felt anxious about that. If anything went wrong, he would have a tough time explaining to Mahler why he was in a Swedish jail for using a fake passport.

  The wait was the worst part. Heinz sat near the Air Baltic counter glancing at every person who passed by. He tried to remain casual, to conceal that he was looking for anyone, but it was difficult since he had no idea what his contact looked like. He eyed a few women who walked by. They had professional appearances, wearing suits, and looking as cool as cucumbers. None of them looked his way or stopped. One woman looked every inch an agent. Her bearing was strong, military, but her eyes skipped over him moving on to another man walking toward her from the opposite direction. They met in the middle and continued on together. This went on for an hour. Heinz was getting antsy feeling as if Faust may have put his trust in the wrong person. He still had ten hours before he would need to check in. A whole damn day wasted in an airport. He pulled his cellular out of his pocket deciding it was as good a time as any to call Birgitta. If he were really staying in Stockholm for a seminar, he would’ve arrived at his hotel by now, so he dialed.

  “I’m here,” he said as soon as she answered. He injected a little cheer into his voice.

  “How was your flight?”

  “Not bad. No problems.” Joseph looked around, keeping his voice low.

  “It sounds loud in the background. Where are you?” She asked.

  “The lobby. I’m waiting for my room to be ready. Apparently, housekeeping is slow today.” The lie rolled off his tongue, and he silently begged God to forgive him.

  “Oh, that’s too bad, but I’m sure it will be fine. When is your first class?”

  “Tomorrow morning. The schedule is pretty much packed. I’ll try to call you when it’s over tomorrow night.”

  “That sounds good. I miss you already.”

  Heinz smiled. “I miss you too.”

  “Don’t go bar hopping with those Swedes. They drink like fish.”

  He laughed. “I’m German, remember? I cut my teeth on beer. I think I’ll be okay.”

  “Well don’t be calling me when you’re hungover,” his love admonished.

  “What, no drunk dialing?”

  “Absolutely not! But seriously, have some fun if you can, but not too much.”

  “Okay. Well, looks like my room’s ready,” he prevaricated, ready to end the call before he said something revealing.

  “Sehr gut. Go and get settled. I love you.”

  Heinz lowered his voice. “I love you too.” He smiled, then ended the call.

  “Well, isn’t that sweet?” A female voice cut into his privacy.

  Heinz looked to his right. A young woman sat next to him. She was wearing all black. Even her fingernails and lipstick were painted black. She had a silver nose ring and one eyebrow pierced. Her blonde hair was obviously bleached, and was cut short except for the top, which was long and straight, and hanging over one heavily lined eye. She appeared to be all of seventeen.

  “It’s rude to eavesdrop.” He tucked his phone back into his pocket and turned away, ignoring her. He started watching the crowd once again.

  “And it’s rude to ignore someone who is talking to you, Herr Heinz.”

  Joseph whipped back around to stare at her. His eyebrow rose. “You?”

  “Yes, me.”

  His incredulity increased. “HackTwice?”

  She blew out a bored breath. “Yes. Please get over your surprise. Follow me.” She got up and began walking toward the restaurant at the far end of the terminal, tucking her hands inside the pockets of her hoodie as she went.

  Heinz jumped up grabbing his coat and the handle of his suitcase following her. He noticed she was quite petite. How could she possibly be some genius hacker and police asset, he thought. She went through the open doorway and found a table in the corner. He came in behind her and slid into the seat on the opposite side of the booth.

  “I have your papers.” She pulled a packet out of her shoulder bag and shoved it across the table at him. “Don’t open it here. Just put it in the seat next to you. Inside is your new passport. Your name is Martin Lintz, and you are an Austrian schoolteacher. You teach mathematics to ten-year olds. Your birthdate remains the same for ease in remembering should anyone ask, and your address is your old house where you grew up.”

  Heinz’s eyebrows shot up. “And how do you know that address?”

  She shrugged. “I know everything about you. Faust provided most of it, the rest I dug up on my own.”

  “Christ, there’s just no privacy anymore.” He shook his head.

  She remained unfazed. “No, none. You will find a new cellular inside. It’s clean and registered to Martin Lintz. You can call whoever you need to, and it will route through your other account. “There is also a baggage tag for your suitcase. You can pick up your ticket to Saint Petersburg at the Air Baltic counter.” She held out her hand.

  Heinz looked at it. “What?” he asked.

  “Hand over your phone and passport. You can’t take them with you. They will give you away should you be caught.”

  “I’m just supposed to leave my personal phone and passport with you? How will I get them back?”

  “I will express mail them to Faust as soon as I leave here. They’ll be waiting for you when you get back.”

  Joseph sighed. He wasn’t happy about turning over his personal information to this young woman, but it was also obvious that she already had all that since she freely admitted to digging around in his bus
iness. He pulled the phone and passport out of his pocket and handed them over.

  “Now, in addition to the new phone, there is also Russian currency, so you don’t need to stop anywhere to exchange. The amount is five thousand Euros in rubles. You have something for me?”

  “Oh, yes.” Heinz reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out the thick envelope, handing it over.

  She held it in both hands, weighing it. When she was satisfied, she got up. “Thank you.” She turned to leave.

  “Wait!” Joseph sat straight, watching her.

  “What?”

  “That’s it?” He was shocked at their short exchange.

  “What more did you expect?”

  That got him. What did I expect? He shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess it all just seemed rather abrupt.”

  “I got the distinct impression that you, yourself, didn’t care for bullshit.” She stuffed her hands in her pockets, her face absent any emotion.

  “I suppose not. Never mind. Thank you.” He dismissed the girl.

  She didn’t say another word, simply turned and left. When she was gone, he picked the packet up off the seat and stared at it. A waitress approached, and he put it down on the table laying his hands on top.

  “What can I get for you?” she asked.

  Joseph looked around the table and then back at her. “A menu?”

  She nodded, walking off to obtain one. After she dropped it off, he glanced through it, selected a hot roast beef sandwich and coffee, and then returned his attention to the packet after she left to place his order. Inside was his new passport. He was amazed. Not only was it perfectly undetectable from a legitimate passport, but it even had a couple of stamps in it so it didn’t appear like a newly issued document. Apparently, Martin Lintz had visited France, Italy, Sweden, and now he would be visiting Russia. His face stared back at him from the photo, the very same photo that was in his other passport only this one said he lived in Salzburg, Austria. He noted that the street address was his parents’ house in the outskirts of Berlin. Easy enough to remember. He would just need to say Salzburg instead of Berlin. He pulled the money out, counted it, and then put half in his wallet and the other half inside his suitcase. There was a travel tag like the one he’d ripped off the case earlier. This one said the luggage had traveled from Austria to Sweden. He tied it around the handle. After putting his passport and new cell phone inside his coat pocket, he balled up the now empty packet. He would toss it into the nearest waste bin on his way out.