The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series Box Set

by Michele E. Gwynn

  “Your support for us is most appreciated, Frau Wolf.”

  Vera smiled. “Anytime, Detective. Please feel free to reach out to me with any concerns. Perhaps we can tempt you to join us sometime?” She left the question hanging.

  “I’m afraid it would be considered a conflict of interest and against our code of conduct. We must remain objective at all times.” Mahler’s eyes slid involuntarily toward Obermeyer’s sleeping form.

  Vera’s eyes followed. “I understand,” she said. “Still, sometimes we must break a few rules to advance democracy.” She turned. “Goodnight, Detective Mahler.”

  Birgitta watched her go. Something inside her felt off. It was Wolf’s parting remark. It struck a nerve, one that continued to tingle. It seemed an odd thing for the woman to say, inconsistent with her public persona. Still, the entire day had been strange, and she was tired. More had been revealed in the last twenty-four hours than a person should have to deal with. There were secrets around every corner, and conspiracies crawling out from every rock. Mahler filed this one away, but mentally, she stuck a red tab on it.

  Inside the room, the minister slept on, sedated. She felt thankful that at least the department had managed to keep a lid on Ritt Obermeyer’s death threats. The less the public knew, the easier it made investigating the case. When seeking a criminal, you don’t want them to know you’re on their trail.

  THE NEXT MORNING WAS a game changer. Mahler’s phone rang at 0700 sharp, just as Edelmann walked in to relieve her. It was Captain Levitz, and he was in a foul mood.

  “Have you seen the headlines?” He yelled, firing off several choice words to everyone and no one at the same time.

  “I’ve been at the minister’s bedside all night. How could I possibly have seen a newspaper yet?”

  Edelmann shifted, fidgeting. He could hear their captain yelling from where he stood. He reached out, handing a folded newspaper to her. Birgitta opened it, read the front page, and felt sick.

  ATTEMPTED OBERMEYER ASSASSINATION A RESULT OF BIZARRE LOVE TRIANGLE!

  The article featured images of Obermeyer out on the town with Marilyn, and a mugshot of Karl Eugene Gephart from a previous prostitution arrest. The author outlined the relationship between the minister and the two sex workers, cited Marilyn’s murder, and noted that Karl Gephart was wanted for questioning, but nowhere to be found. Mention was made of the recent death threats, the department’s involvement in protecting the minister, and the investigation into who was sending them. The only person not mentioned was Rudi Oppel. It was a leading story, one that suggested a rivalry between Marilyn and Karl for the minister’s affections. This was news to Mahler. Salome had stated that both were the minister’s favorites, but nothing about one being jealous of the other.

  “Heads will roll!” Levitz ranted on. “Discretion, Detective! It wasn’t a suggestion. Who knew about this?”

  Birgitta’s gut clenched. “The only persons I’ve spoken to regarding the threats are Madame Denouve and her assistant, Salome, and only in regard to my soft investigation. No details. This article has details that no one else could possibly know.” She neglected to include Lukas in her statement. She knew he would not speak to the press. She also knew she had not given any of these details to him. This was someone else. “Captain, the only other person who could possibly know any of this is Oppel,” she said.

  Edelmann cleared his throat.

  “What?” Mahler looked at him.

  The ginger-haired officer gave her a wide-eyed look. “And the perpetrator.”

  “What’s going on? Mahler?” Levitz barked into the speaker.

  “Edelmann makes a good point, sir. Besides Oppel, the only other person privy to this much information would be the person we seek, the one who’s been sending these threats.” She gave Edelmann a thumbs up, mouthing the words, “Good job,” to him.

  “Then before you retire for the day, I suggest you visit the offices of the Berliner Zeitung and speak to,” Mahler heard Levitz rattling the paper as he paused to read, “Herr Wolfgang Hachmeister. I don’t care what bullshit he cites about protecting sources. I want a name!” Levitz hung up.

  Mahler took a deep breath. It was going to be a long morning. She was not looking forward to locking horns with a reporter. They were notoriously closed-mouth when it came to speaking with law enforcement, seeing them all as the enemy of a free press.

  “So what’s the verdict?” Edelmann waited for her to gather her reserves.

  “I am tasked with discovering the article’s source.” She looked at the paper again. “I’m just not sure how I’m going to accomplish this.”

  He offered a sympathetic look. “We are not islands, Detective. We cannot always stand alone. Sometimes, we need help.” He patted her shoulder and stepped past her, into the minister’s room. “Did the nurse at least bring breakfast around? The minister won’t be needing his, and I missed mine.”

  Mahler smiled. “I’ll ask her to send you a tray on my way out. And thanks, Edelmann. You are fast becoming my favorite person.” She picked up her handbag, heading first to the nurse’s station to make sure the officer was taken care of, and then she drove straight to the house in Reinickendorf. She knew exactly who might be able to finagle information out of Herr Hackmeister. Her very own Mata Hari.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  THEY WERE FOURTEEN hours in to a thirty-six-hour journey by ship. It was cold down in the cargo hold. Heinz paced back and forth, feeling every single one of his forty-eight years. The pain in his ribs seemed sharper in the cold and damp despite the tight binding around them. They were well on their way back to Stockholm, and he knew he should be feeling grateful, but instead, he was worried.

  He was due back in Berlin in five days according to the elaborate lie he’d woven for Birgitta. The bruising on his face and body would not be gone by then, and if he, indeed, had cracked ribs, he would not be able to hide that fact from her. There would be questions, and he knew he could not complicate his lie further by adding to it. Realizing this, he knew he’d rather endure another beating than face the woman he loved and tell her what he’d done. Somehow, he didn’t think she’d be forgiving, not even in the face of the fact that he’d finally found answers. Not even for the fact that because of his drive to solve the case, he was bringing a part of Marlessa Schubert home to her parents. He glanced at the child.

  Nikola was sitting next to Elsa, playing with a pink, stuffed rabbit. The toy had been placed inside the basket of food by Valentina with a note. Faust translated it for them.

  My darling Nikola,

  You will no doubt grow to forget all about me, but I promise, my love, I will never forget you. You were my ray of sunshine in a dark world. You were the daughter I always wanted, and I loved you more than anything in this life. I will continue to love you even after. I knew your mother. She was my dear friend. We were both taken at the same time by the same evil man. I know someone will explain more of this to you when you are older, but I want you to know, she was strong. She never gave up. Marlessa wanted you, and she fought so hard to be here for you, but her body could not hold out. From that day, I promised to care for you, and I did the best I could. I know letting you go was the right thing to do. It was the only way I could save you from all of this. Be well, my darling. Be strong and do something marvelous with your life. I love you.

  Valentina Yefremova

  The missive was once again tucked away inside the envelope with the child’s name written across the paper with a flourish. Heinz would give it to the Schuberts, and let Marie and Anton decide when to share it with Nikola.

  “Your pacing is making me tired, Joseph.” Faust grumbled at him.

  “My apologies, old friend.” Heinz stopped, and stood staring down at Faust.

  “Worried?” he asked.

  “Yes. Not sure what I’m going to say.”

  Elsa looked up. “I can imagine it’s going to be quite a shock.”

  “Yes,” he acknowledged.


  “But a good one, of course. Who wouldn’t fall instantly in love with this little angel?” Elsa smiled at the blonde-haired girl, who grinned back, completely unaware of how drastically her life was changing for the better.

  “What?” Heinz blinked. “No, that’s not what I meant—”

  “He means Birgitta,” Faust interrupted, answering for him.

  “Yes, that.” Heinz nodded.

  “Oh, I see.” Elsa looked from one to the other. “Well, you can’t go wrong with the truth. And yes, she’s going to be pissed. There’s no doubt about that, but I think she will understand.”

  Heinz remained agitated. A few beads of sweat popped out on his forehead despite the chill. “Yes, but will she forgive me before or after she calls off our wedding?” He began pacing again.

  “Stop dwelling on it. You’ll make yourself crazy.” Faust stood, and joined his friend in his pacing, trying to work out the kinks from sitting too long. He reached around to rub his back. “I’m too old for this, you know.”

  Heinz clapped him on the back as they passed rows of containers, many of which he knew were filled with heroin. When they’d arrived at the Morskoy Drakon, several other smaller vessels were lined up to deliver the illegal cargo. A large crane lifted the containers onto the ship, dropping them down into the hold. Elsa managed to climb the rope ladder carrying Nikola who had been strapped to her back using a fishing net provided by Petrovich. It was the best they could do. Faust climbed up behind her keeping an eye out to make sure the child didn’t fall, and Heinz struggled up one rung at a time with his beaten body. It was slow-going and painful, but they made it.

  “What are you complaining about? I imagine Helga will never know the truth about where you’ve been the past few days,” Heinz grumbled.

  “Of course she will. You’re telling Birgitta, aren’t you? I can smell the shit sandwiches already.”

  “Only because I won’t have a choice. Look at me? It’s not like I can hide my injuries.” He limped along.

  “Maybe you don’t need to tell her.” Elsa spoke up.

  Both men turned. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, I’m not one to advocate a lie, but this was more in the line of duty, and does fall under the rules governing LKA operations, does it not?” She looked at Faust.

  A slow grin spread across his face. “It does. I knew I hand-picked you for a reason, Kreiss.”

  “What?” Heinz waited.

  “LKA operations fall under a gag rule, or so I’ve been told by my superior, so we are not allowed to speak of them. Why can’t your injuries have occurred while in Sweden?” She raised a red eyebrow.

  “At a conference for A16 advancement seminars?” Heinz appeared skeptical.

  “Hear me out, Joseph. You’ve been on what she basically looked at as a mini vacation. Aren’t there any activities in Stockholm where you could get hurt? Surely there is something stupid you might have done, given the chance, or offered the encouragement. Think, man!” She prodded him with her words.

  He hesitated, thinking, and then, “Well, she did warn me to not get drunk with Swedes...”

  Faust laughed. “And we all know the rivalry between Swedes and Germans when it comes to drinking. Joseph, I do believe you got yourself into a bar fight.” He clapped Heinz on the back who grimaced. “Oh, sorry, my friend!”

  Heinz took a breath. “It’s okay. Just don’t do it again.” He looked at Elsa. “This means, as far as everyone knows, I simply stayed in Stockholm for the scheduled period of time, and will return to Berlin on schedule, picked up by Herman.” He rubbed his chin. “In the meantime, I can take Nikola on to Potsdam and deliver her to the Schuberts, hide in a hotel for a few days. I might not look quite as bad by then, and I can visit a doctor while there.”

  “There you go. Problem solved.” She smiled.

  “I guess this means I owe you one if it works,” Heinz added.

  “You don’t owe me a thing. Just never do anything this hair-brained again or I will personally hog-tie you and deliver you to Birgitta myself. And I did this as much for her as you. She doesn’t need any more stress before her wedding.” She stood and approached her mentor. “You just do everything in your power to make her happy and be happy yourself now that you’ve put your ghost to rest.”

  Joseph Heinz looked at the young woman he’d taken under his wing for the past three years and smiled. “You know I...” He stopped, swallowing.

  Elsa grinned, reaching out to hug him gently. “I know. I love you too.”

  Faust rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. I love you’s all around. You’ve saved more than one marriage today, Kreiss. Good job.”

  THE BERLINER ZEITUNG staff had quite a show that morning. Salome looked every bit the sexy supermodel in her bronze, silk sheath dress that ended mid-thigh, and her black leather, knee-high stiletto boots. The dress had long sleeves, and the scoop neck managed to stay above her nipples, but only just barely. If she leaned over far enough, they peeked out, winking flirtatiously. It was Mahler’s secret weapon to loosen Wolfgang Hackmeister’s lolling tongue. The woman’s almond-shaped brown eyes smiled down at her.

  “Think it’ll work?” She did a small turn in the foyer when Mahler picked her up.

  Birgitta grinned. “If it doesn’t, he’s gay, and I’ll have to return with Edelmann in tow.”

  Salome laughed. “Well, I’m happy to help, and it’s nice to get out of here.”

  “I have it on good authority you’ll be getting your passport back soon,” Mahler said. “What are your plans after?”

  Her eyes went soft. ‘I’m not sure about the future yet, but I’m looking forward to seeing my family again. I miss them. My mother and father haven’t seen me in years, and my younger sister and brother, I have no idea what’s going on in their lives. I just want to see them, and then I can think about the rest later. I’ll be with my family. It will all be okay.” She sat in the car now, wrapped in her leather Trench coat, looking out the window as they merged onto the autobahn.

  Mahler understood. The most important thing to all of these women was to get back home, get back to loved ones.

  When they arrived at the offices of the newspaper, they marched in, “tits up” as Salome put it.

  “Always put your best assets forward, Detective, and show no fear. This is my advice. It has worked for me. Never let anyone see you are less than one-hundred percent in control and confident.”

  Birgitta chuckled. “It certainly does work. You intimidated the hell out of me when we first met.”

  Salome cast a sly glance sideways. “I was testing you.”

  “I know this now.”

  “But there is something you don’t know.”

  “And what is that?” Mahler lifted one eyebrow.

  “I was half serious. You are a very attractive woman. I wouldn’t have minded if you’d failed my testing of your character just a little.” She looked ahead, grinning.

  Birgitta’s eyes popped, and just as quickly, she wiped the surprise from her face. “I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “You don’t have to say anything. I see the engagement ring on your finger.” Salome looked at the princess cut diamond set in white gold. “I hope he knows how lucky he is.”

  Mahler looked at her ring. She smiled, and then remembered she hadn’t heard from Joseph in days. Her smile disappeared. “I’m beginning to wonder.” She clipped off the words as they reached their destination. Herr Hachmeister’s office door was open. He sat behind his desk typing away on his computer unaware he was about to be ambushed by both brains and beauty. He would give up his source one way or the other before the hour was up.

  She looked at Salome. “Ready?”

  Salome squared her shoulders, her breasts proudly displayed in draped bronze silk. “Ready.”

  Together, they entered the den of the beast, prepared to slay this journalist by wit or by tit. There would be no prisoners taken.

  HACHMEISTER PROVED a worthy opponent when questioned,
but he was still a man, and Salome knew how to make a man spill his secrets without realizing he had. Birgitta thought she would make a marvelous spy. Her own hard-hitting inquiries erected the man’s defenses, but her counterpart’s compliments made him erect in other areas. It was almost embarrassing. Wolfgang literally had a boner, his jeans taught over his crotch, as Salome leaned forward, begging him with ruby-red lips to help them catch a killer, the person who may very well have murdered her friend. It was a tad over-dramatic, but Salome was now fully immersed in her character. The man, who was in his early thirties, and should have had a bit more control over himself couldn’t keep his eyes from zeroing in on her now exposed nipples.

  Mahler understood. Hachmeister had ‘nerd’ written all over him. His slight physical stature, thick glasses, and lack of style spoke to a man who’d spent his life in books, fantasizing. He’d probably never seen a naked woman outside of a magazine, and now one was right in front of him, reaching a hand out to touch his knee in a beseeching manner. She watched it play out, and then wished she hadn’t. As soon as Salome’s fingers touched just above his knee, grazing his thigh, Wolfgang shuddered, wetting himself as he involuntarily orgasmed.

  “No worries,” she said, coming off the chair she sat upon, and sinking to her knees before him. She continued to massage his thighs, just out of sight of anyone walking past the door. Mahler shifted right to help further block any curious eyes. “Just give us a hint. I’ll offer some names, and you just nod yes or no. Then you won’t be betraying your source. We will simply figure it out. Okay?” Her hands traveled up, closer to the dark stain at the vee of his pants. Amazingly, he was growing hard again.

  Mahler kept her eyes up, not wanting to watch the man have both his first and second sexual encounter with a professional escort. It was probably the experience of his life, but it didn’t come free. He would pay with information.