Heinz sat forward. “Nein, Herman. You are not responsible for this one, and neither is HackTwice. It was Lana Karakova. She’s the one who triggered the alarm. That’s why she had to get out of the country. The FSB will eventually trace the hack back to her. If it’s anyone’s fault, it’s mine. I’m the one who asked for help.”
Faust looked surprised, and then alternately relieved and worried. “So that’s what you meant when you said she’d been compromised?”
“Yes, and I’m sorry for it. She’s a good woman.” Heinz sighed.
“Guys, I don’t think recriminations are the best way to spend our time right now. We need to keep as far ahead of this as possible. Stop being self-indulgent. You can cry into each other’s beers once we get home, but for now, we have to remain sharp.” Elsa cracked her verbal whip. “Now, we really need to bind your ribs, Joseph. Sit up.” She helped him sit straighter on the bed and stuffed a pillow behind his back. “Herman, help me tear this sheet into strips.” She pulled the top sheet off the bed, yanking from beneath Heinz, and handed it to Faust.
“Using what? I have no knife on me. They stripped us of our weapons, Kreiss.”
Elsa reached inside her sweater and pulled out a small Swiss army knife from between her breasts. “Will this do?”
Faust chuckled. “He never even searched there, did he?” he replied, referring to Petrovich.
“No, he did not, and yet his eyes were glued to my cleavage the whole time. Men.”
Heinz struggled not to laugh. It was the first time in days he felt any humor whatsoever. “Please, you two. My ribs.”
Faust cut strips, ripping the fabric. “One more reason for Brezhnev to want to kill us. Destruction of property. Feels pretty good, actually.”
“Hand them over. I think three or four should be enough.” Elsa proceeded to lift Heinz’s sweater and t-shirt over his head. He grumbled a few times, but not nearly as much as when she began to bind his torso, expertly tying off the knots.
“You’re rather good at that,” Faust noted.
“Years of experience hog-tying bad men, Herman.” She grinned. Stepping back, she admired her handiwork. “Better?” she addressed Heinz.
He moved his arms cautiously, then took a breath. He smiled, but there was a hint of pain still in his good eye. “Yes, actually much better. Thank you, Elsa.”
“You’re welcome. That should hold until we get back home.” She turned to Faust. “One problem down.”
“Indeed. And now we need to figure out how in the hell we’re going to travel with a toddler.” Faust put his hands behind his back, pacing.
“If we can get our damn phones back from Breshnev, we need not travel too far before we can make better arrangements suitable for a child.” Elsa walked to the window, moving the curtain aside and looking down into the yard. Two guards walked the perimeter of the house. She knew more were stationed further out.
“It won’t be easy no matter our arrangements,” Heinz said, getting to his feet to join Elsa by the window. “The child doesn’t know us. She’s going to be upset; being taken from the only person she knows. Not to mention, she’s just a toddler. At her age, patience isn’t in her vocabulary yet.”
“You’re the one with the most experience with children, Heinz.” Faust pinned him with a stare. “This is your call. I know you want to return her to the Schubert girl’s parents, but what if they don’t want her? Consider that. It’s entirely possible they will reject the offspring resulting from Marlessa’s repeated rapes. Then what?”
It was a hard question, one that had reared its ugly head in the back of Heinz’s mind a few times already. He stared down into the yard, quietly contemplating the situation. Finally, he turned to Faust. “If that is the case then I will raise her myself.”
Elsa’s jaw dropped. Faust stood regarding his friend, unfazed.
“I figured as much,” he said. “And what about Birgitta? Does she not get a say in this? It affects her too.”
“Of course she does.” Hienz walked back to the bed, sitting down carefully on the edge. “I’m sure she will agree if it comes down to it.” He did not appear entirely convinced.
Elsa closed her mouth and crossed her arms over her chest. “Well, if it’s a problem, then I’ll take her.”
Faust rolled his eyes. “And what about Lukas?”
She watched Heinz closely. He’d suffered eight long years. Guilt over not being able to protect and rescue his daughter’s best friend had taken a toll on her mentor. She knew how big his heart was beneath all his bluster. He’d nearly lost everything beating himself up and now he had the chance to make some small part of the tragedy right again. After everything he’d done for her and her brother, she could not pass up the opportunity to help him in return. If that meant adopting a little girl to save her from being prostituted out when she grew older, then that’s what she would do. No question. She’d do it even if it didn’t have anything to do with Joseph.
“If he has a problem with it, he can fuck off,” she said. With that, she joined Heinz on the edge of the bed, placing her arm around his shoulders. “We can’t leave her here. She’d end up like her mother and you know it.”
Faust raised his hands in surrender. “I wasn’t suggesting we leave her here. I’m no monster. I am simply pointing out that raising a child is a fulltime job, not one a middle-aged, newly married couple could take on with any ease. And you are middle-aged, Joseph, so hold your protest,” he said, pointing at Heinz who already offered a rude hand gesture in response. “And you, Kreiss, are single, and have a demanding job that puts you in danger more than is healthy. Imagine how upsetting that would be for a small child. You’d have to hire a fulltime nanny, and that’s expensive. A child needs stability.”
“What the hell do you suggest? Should her grandparents reject her, we’re supposed to put her in state care?” Elsa was fuming.
“No.” Faust found the chair in the corner and sat down. His knees popped as he bent, finally relaxing into the seat. “I’m saying it will take someone with plenty of spare time on their hands. Someone with some experience with children.” He sighed, placing his hands on the chair’s arms. He glanced away, looking at the wall. “I’m saying Helga and I would take her...if she has nowhere else to go.”
A half smile lifted the corner of Heinz’s mouth. “Well, I guess that answers the question of what you’ll do in retirement, old man.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” An answering smile twitched on Faust’s lips. “That is, provided we make it home without getting killed or captured.”
“There is that.” Elsa sent her superior an apologetic look. “You really are something, you know that, Herman?” She looked at Heinz. “And so are you.” With that, she leaned over, placing a kiss on his cheek. “My heroes.”
“I think the real hero here is you,” Heinz said. “You’ve saved us, but I still don’t understand what that was all about downstairs.”
“I do,” Faust stated, looking at her.
Elsa regarded them. “You did say I might one day have to bend the rules, that I’d have to fight dirty.”
Faust nodded. “I see my lesson came late. So that’s what happened to Ivchencko.”
Heinz finally understood. He looked at Elsa. “You. It was you? You told Brezhnev where to find Ivchencko?”
Elsa looked away, and then turned to face her mentor. “Yes. It was the only way I could keep you all safe.”
“That wasn’t your decision to make, Elsa. Why didn’t you come to me? I would have helped!”
“There was nothing you could have done. Ivchencko was hell-bent on revenge. He wouldn’t have stopped until he killed one or all of us. And even if he failed, even if he’d been captured and taken into custody, his arrest would have exposed Brezhnev who would then have gone to any lengths to not only silence him, but exact revenge for his losses on the officers involved. I did what I had to do, Joseph.” Emotion colored her words and begged for understanding.
Heinz grippe
d her hands. “I would have done anything to protect you from making a deal with that devil, Elsa. Anything. Why are you so hard-headed?” He pulled her in to his side, hugging her.
“I know,” she said, her voice muffled against his shirt. “But I’m not sorry. It saved us today.”
“Don’t ever do that again. Please!” Heinz held her, staring over her head at Faust who sat in silence regarding them. The father inside both men had been rattled to the core. Each knew that no matter how much they might wish otherwise, there was only so much they could do to protect her, and knowing their limitations caused fear to invade their hearts. It was a familiar fear, one that reared its ugly head time and again in their personal lives and their professions.
An hour passed while the three of them sat in silence. They were exhausted, both physically and mentally. Heinz, at Elsa’s urging, laid back against the headboard trying to rest. Faust stayed put in the overstuffed chair, and Elsa stretched out across the foot of the large bed. They were dozing lightly when the sound of the door unlocking woke them.
Arkady stepped in. “Time to go.” His hand twitched over his gun holster. It was obvious he wanted to have it in hand, pointed at them, but it appeared Brezhnev had given alternate orders.
Faust stood, and Elsa helped Heinz rise. Together, they made their way down three flights of stairs to the office. Inside, the Butcher leaned upon his desk, waiting. The little girl, Nikola, sat in one of the two chairs facing him sucking her thumb, fresh tears still rolling down her soft cheeks.
“I’ve had to expedite your travel arrangements. My ship leaves in two hours for Stockholm. You will be on it, down in the cargo hold. I’ve had my cook prepare a basket of food and necessary items, mostly for the child.” He looked at the girl, a small smile on his lips. “We leave in five minutes so prepare yourselves. A bathroom is across the hall.” He looked at Elsa, clearly addressing her. “Make sure she goes. It’s a long ride to port, and the crossing takes thirty-six hours.”
Elsa stepped forward, approaching the small girl. She smiled and held out her hand. Breshnev spoke, switching to the only language the child understood.
“Go with Elsa. She is going to be taking care of you.”
Nikola sniffed, and wiped her nose on her sleeve. She seemed to shrink further into the chair, but Elsa didn’t give up. She took another step, and finally, the child put her tiny hand in hers. The two walked across the hall to the bathroom leaving the men in the office.
Brezhnev looked at Heinz. “I assume you will be returning the child to her grandparents?”
“Yes. It’s where she belongs.” Heinz eyed the man, barely containing the anger in his voice.
The Butcher nodded. “And what will you tell them?”
“The truth, of course.”
“Then you should know all of it.” Brezhnev walked behind his desk, sitting down. He indicated Heinz and Faust should do the same. “Her mother’s life did not end well.”
“How could it? Look where she was!” Heinz’s voice dropped low, rage seeping into his words.
“I won’t apologize for it. Many of the girls who come here adjust and do very well. Some even come here of their own accord knowing full well what they’re walking into,” he began.
Faust interrupted. “But too many have no choice at all. You have them kidnapped. You’re a fucking monster.”
“Be careful, old man. Retirement may not agree with you after all.” The subtle threat hung in the air between them.
“Finish your story,” Heinz said.
Brezhnev’s eyes shifted back to him, although the muscles around the blue orbs remained tight. It was evident Faust’s condemnation rankled. The Butcher did not like being called a monster, but monsters rarely did.
“As I was saying, Marlessa’s life did not end well. It was a difficult birth, especially since we were unaware of her pregnancy for so long. She hid it well. Some of the other women helped her in that regard. Had I known; I could have prevented what came next. She was the Colonel-general’s favorite for many years, despite the fact that she’d grown older. He doesn’t usually stick with any of them once they’ve passed the age of eighteen, but he’d grown strangely fond of her. His attention waned for the most part. Oh, he still liked to break in the new, fresh girls, but he visited Marlessa from time to time. The thing about Vasiliev is that he likes to think the girls are his exclusively. You see, he has quite a temper. When he discovered that Marlessa was pregnant, he beat her. It was brutal. The man does not tolerate betrayal, and that’s how he saw it. I barely recognized her face, and the bruising on her body ruined her beyond all hope of ever being productive again. She was barely conscious but kept saying “Save my baby.” That’s when I knew. The child was a month premature from what Valentina tells me. She never knew her mother. Marlessa died that night, whether it was from complications from her beating or from childbirth, I do not know. As you can understand, I could not take her to a hospital. Valentina and my housekeeper helped bring the baby into the world, and she survived. Once we knew she was not going to die, I named her. She has been here in this house since. It’s the only home she’s ever known, and Valentina is the only mother she knows. She’s inconsolable now that I’ve taken the child from her. If she doesn’t snap out of it, I’ll have no use for her.” Brezhnev concluded his story, leaving Heinz and Faust stewing in their outrage and anger.
“Faust is right. You are a monster,” Heinz whispered. He cleared his throat. “I hope in time the child forgets this place and everything and everyone in it. The only small bit of gratitude I feel is to Valentina for caring for her. Just remember,” he pinned Brezhnev where he sat with a cold stare, “if you harm Valentina, there won’t be a hell hot enough for you. Even you must have a mother.” He spoke carefully. “I see that you do,” he said, noting the muscles twitching around Brezhnev’s eyes. “Then let Valentina go. She’s more than served her purpose. Send her back home.”
The two men stared each other down, neither blinking.
Elsa came back in, Nikola at her side. “We’re ready.”
“Then let’s go.” Brezhnev stood, coming around the desk. He stopped by Heinz. “Oh, and the FSB found their security leak. They picked her and her son up near the Finnish border. One less problem for me. Shall we?” He walked out of the room, leaving Heinz choking on rage.
Chapter Twenty-Three
CAPTAIN LEVITZ SENT relief. Edelmann showed up bearing the good news. “I’m here for the next eight hours so go home and get some rest. Captain’s orders.”
Mahler nodded wearily at the ginger-haired officer. “Call me if his condition changes.”
“Will do.” Edelmann took over at the minister’s bedside. “Looks like he’ll be sleeping most of the day anyhow.”
“Yes. The nurse has already come in and changed out his intravenous fluids. The doctor should be around soon. Take notes. I’ll expect a full report when I come back.”
Edelmann chuckled. “Yes, Detective. No worries.”
She picked up her keys and cell phone from the table and walked to the door. Pausing, she turned back. “Did the Captain have any news? Anything at all?”
“Not yet. My understanding is they are waiting on ballistics and forensics. Fingerprint matches and such.”
“What the hell is taking them so long?” Irritation colored her words.
The officer shrugged and glanced down at the minister. “Budget cuts.”
Birgitta looked at Obermeyer’s sleeping form. “Bastard,” she muttered.
“Have a good sleep, Detective.” Edelmann pulled a rolled-up newspaper from his coat pocket, preparing for a long day.
“Thanks. Wiedersehen.”
It was a long walk out of the hospital and through to the parking lot. Mahler was weary to the bone, and yet her mind was running ninety miles a minute. The cell phone buzzed in her hand indicating a new message. As she sat in the front seat, she listened to the voicemail from Salome. It didn’t make sense to her that Marilyn would be going o
ut on her own last night, but then, at the moment, not much made sense.
“Dammit. Why can’t things be simple just once?” With that, she started the car, and pulled out of the lot. The facts flashed through her mind. The Minister of the Interior had been receiving death threats via email, standard mail, and voicemail from an unidentified person. Obermeyer seemed more irritated by it than concerned, until he was shot last night. The deeper she dug, the messier the whole sordid mess became. They needed that information from ballistics and forensics. They needed to discover who Marilyn met in that hotel room too, as well as get a concrete cause of death from the coroner. That one would take time, of which they had very little to spare. There was still the odd detail of the other woman checking in who resembled Marilyn. Mahler knew she would not be satisfied until she viewed the hotel’s surveillance tapes personally. Then there was the IP address and the unidentified owner of Madame Denouve’s business, not to mention she’d promised to help Salome. And there was Lukas. How in the hell he was smack in the middle of it all made no sense whatsoever. As far as she knew, there’d been no new death threats which seemed par for the course if the suspect believed that he or she had hit their target yesterday. So much to consider, and she was too tired to put the pieces of the puzzle together at the moment. She needed sleep.
“And when I wake, there damn well better be a message from you, Joseph!” She yelled this last as she rolled to a stop at a traffic light. The man in the car next to her stared hard. When she calmly flipped up her middle finger at him while flashing her badge, he quickly faced forward.
Muttering to herself, Mahler berated the thin air. “I’m getting married in a few weeks, and I can’t even enjoy myself. Babysitting a budget-slashing whoremonger, mixed up in an assassination attempt, witnessing Lukas’s cheating, and my maid of honor and husband to be are both MIA! This is not how it’s supposed to go. Not at all.” Birgitta grumbled, putting the car in gear as the light turned green. “Things had better change soon or Bridezilla is going on a rampage.”
The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set Page 64