Krimi: The Third Victim of Frikko
JPYoung
Chamber of Dread!
The atmosphere of fear heightened, as if the room magnified emotion. A person wearing a wild boar mask and fur gloves raised a dagger gleaming reflections of flames from torches set in the old brick wall. Only the gag tied in her mouth prevented the redheaded woman tied spreadeagle to an altar from screaming to heaven. Three other figures wearing pointed hood masks, cloaks and gloves raised their daggers…
Red Buzzer in an Agfacolor Autumn!
The red Uerdingen railbus hummed through the Rhineland-Palatinate forest with the October autumn colours at their peak. Katrina Black squeezed her husband’s hand,
‘It is so beautiful, Peter!’
‘Not as beautiful as you, meine Liebling,’
They were on a second honeymoon visiting her relatives. Though Peter had once been an American infantryman not all that far away, they met in their current hometown on the shores of Lake Michigan where Katrina had spent most of her life.
It was almost sunny…
He recalled his first arrival in Germany in February…and didn’t see the sun until June’s end. The Midwestern United States didn’t have the greatest weather, but it was the sunny tropics compared to Germany.
Both loved the autumn, and she knew Peter was equally thrilled by their cute red railbus that took passengers between the main Bahnhöfe in the larger cities to the smaller towns on freight train lines. The locals also loved their little red train they fondly called their Rote Brummer, the Red Buzzer.
Journeying to stay with her aunt and her teenage son, they just completed a stay with her other relatives, an uncle, his wife and family who were kind, polite and very correct. Onkel Otto was pleased to display his excellent command of English to Peter who had limited German skills. Equally proud of German culture, Otto perpetually demonstrated his knowledge of historic German philosophers, authors and composers and their connection to the area. Peter was subdued until they passed a sign announcing Burg Frankenstein. He enthused that he had to see and photograph Frankenstein’s Castle for his friends who he called ‘the Down and Outers’. Otto was livid until their departure that the only German culture Americans knew or cared about were Hitler and Frankenstein.
Their Rote Brummer halted at their destination, only Peter and Katrina disembarked.
Three in a Messerschmitt!
‘Cousine Katrina!’
A teenage boy enthusiastically waved. The only other person at the station not a railway employee was a rotund man reading his newspaper on a bench with a briefcase by his side.
Like Onkel Otto, Cousin Dietmar was pleased to demonstrate his English fluency.
Another young man waited in the carpark.
‘This ist mein friend, Christof.’
Peter shook hands.
‘I haff an automobile, but Christof will assist with your luggage.’
‘What on earth is that?’
Both visitors expressed amazement at Dietmar’s three-wheeled miniature car.
‘It ist a Messerschmitt KR200!’
‘Does it fly and shoot down B-17s?’
‘Effery othhher car in Chermany ist ein Folksvagen! I am different!‘
Dietmar opened the bubble top revealing a driver’s seat with two seats in the back. The large man at the small railway station was also looking.
‘Haben Sie einen Schlüssel zum Aufziehen?‘
The fat man demonstrated he heard Peter ask if Dietmar had a key to wind up the toy car by loudly laughing and slapping his leg.
As Dietmar surmised, there may have been room in the rear storage for an overnight bag, but not the luggage of two international travellers! Christof had plenty of room in his parent’s Volkswagen.
They entered the Messerschmitt.
‘Flash Gordon calling Planet Mongo!’
‘First I vill show you our town.’
They enjoyed Dietmar’s commentary. Everyone in the square of the old town left untouched by the war adored their miniature car.
Terror on the Way!
The area between the town and Katrina’s Aunt’s home was forested.
‘Steam train!’, shouted an excited Peter as if it was the 8th Wonder of the World.
The whistle shrieked an unworldly sound; so did Katrina,
‘Halt!!!’
A wide-eyed redheaded woman in disheveled clothing was crawling by the side of the road. They left the car and ran to her. She looked as if she was in shock and wouldn’t respond to Katrina.
‘We must take her to the hospital!’
‘I think we should take her to the police first, Katrina. There may have been a road accident. Four’s too many in this car! Where in town can I meet you, Dietmar?’
* * *
Peter’s walk to town wasn’t too far; he easily found the Polizeistation.
Wrapped in a blanket, the redheaded woman was still silent and wide-eyed. Uniformed police were interviewing Katrina and Dietmar. Katrina explained Peter was her husband and was with them when they found the woman.
The loud conversations came to a sudden stop as a formidable, uniformed nurse resembling Tarzan Lex Barker in drag entered and began barking out orders. Peter wondered if she’d bang the two policemen’s heads together.
‘She says there are too many men here! I will go with her and the woman to another room. There is a Bäckerei-Café across the street. You will wait for us there.‘
It looked like women were the bosses in postwar Germany.
Leaving the Polizeistation, he noticed everyone in the square was watching him…
Beestings for two!
He found an empty table and ordered coffee and his favourite Bienenstich cake.
‘”Flash Gordon calling Planet Mongo!”’
The fat man from the Bahnhof holding his briefcase joined him.
Peter shook his hand and introduced himself; the man replied his name was Max.
‘Maximum?’
‘No, only Max!’, he laughed and slapped his leg, ‘I am the Maximum!’
‘Are you running away to join the circus?’
The laughing fat man removed his hat, placed it on the rack then ordered the same bee sting cake and coffee. He sat next to Peter, opened his briefcase and started a battery-powered Distler trainset with a track layout inside!
‘I am not running! I am riding the train!’
Peter glowed like a child,
‘Hier is der Rote Brummer!’
He immediately liked Max, but wondered, did the catatonic woman they picked up on the road also like him? Was there a connection? Peter decided to be friendly, but cautious.
They made small talk. Peter thought he was intelligent and subtle; Max didn’t ask prying questions.
Katrina entered with Dietmar,
‘We must go to my Aunt! She will be worried!’
Peter introduced Max, who departed.
Dietmar observed,
‘I haff not seen that man here before!’
Tante Lotte
Christof preceded the three to Tante Lieselotte’s home where Katrina’s Aunt was preparing dinner. Her husband and Dietmar’s father had been a prisoner of the Russians who didn’t release him and the others until 1950. He survived his harsh treatment, but returned home very ill, dying a few years ago.
Explaining that Dietmar was showing her visitors the town, the two placed her guest’s luggage in their room. Christof said he had to return home.
The Messerschmitt arrived at their destination; a relieved ‘Lotte’ exuberantly welcomed the pair outside her home. Prior to entering, the postman came to deliver a parcel. Lotte introduced her visitors to Herr Briefträger. Peter noticed the postman staring at Katrina, whose amblyopia often had that effect. The postman had the stare of a dead man, not the wonder or pity of others. Peter put it down to his wartime experiences.
A Volkswagen beeped as Max drove by…
Another Victim!
Lotte’s English may not have been perfect, but her extraordinary hugs and coffee and cake demonstrated her visitors were more than welcome.
At first Lotte tried to speak English for Peter’s sake, but Dietmar was keen to get the latest news on American rock and roll and popular culture. Lotte and Katrina conversed in German with Katrina telling the story of the woman, stating she remained catatonic. She had no injuries. had not been sexually violated but had probably spent the night wandering in the forest. Whether she was a victim of a road accident, no one could say.
Dietmar translated a remark from his mother,
‘She ist the second woman to be found like that. She later recovered but would speak nothing about what happened to her.’
Bad things happen in threes…
Another Visitor!
The doorbell chimed.
Lotte introduced a slightly older well-dressed man as Herr Brauner, a schoolteacher.
Dietmar let Katrina speak uninterruptedly as she repeated the events of the day in German. Herr Brauner was as cool and silent as Lotte was horrified and excited.
Over a tasty dinner, Lotte explained they were attending a school function that evening; Dietmar would also be there. Lotte apologised that they would be alone on their first evening of their visit, but it was a very important event for Herr Brauner. Katrina replied that she and her husband were pleased to have a quiet evening together after all the excitement.
This weekend featured a festival in the nearest small city; Lotte had a dirndl dress that would fit her niece. Dietmar was keen for Peter to rent a Lederhosen outfit to wear, but Peter countered no amount of money would make him dress like Pinocchio.
Following dinner, Lotte, Dietmar and Herr Brauner drove away in his Audi. Katrina and Peter relaxed watching television.
Warning from the Grave!
‘It was very polite for Dietmar to go with his mother to support Herr Brauner.’
‘Very polite. I’d do anything to get out of hearing a lecture from a schoolteacher.’
‘That is because Dietmar knows how much his mother wants to marry Herr Brauner. I know many stories of children who hate their mother’s new male friends.’
The electricity went off! A man’s silhouette illuminated by the streetlight appeared on the wall. A maniacal laugh sounded like a tantrum,
‘Hier ist dein Tod!‘
Peter opened the window to hear better and laughed; the voice that came out of nowhere sounded like a clown! And a mentally retarded one at that…
‘Das ist nicht humorvoll!‘
‘Did you say something, Liebling?’
‘Nein, es ist DEIN Tod, der spricht!‘
‘Sorry, I don’t speak German, Mr. Toad’, Peter lied, ‘Can you speak English?’
There was a noticeable pause.
‘I KNOW you speak Cherman!’
Peter whispered,
‘Keep him arguing, Germans can’t resist an argument!’
As Peter quietly left the room, Katrina glared,
‘We do not speak German. You should know that!’
‘I KNOW you speak Cherman!’
‘WHERE did you hear me speak German?’
There was not only a pause, but she swore she saw a question mark floating in the air.
‘I speak from the grave!’
‘Whose grave are you speaking from, please?’
Another pause.
‘It does not matter whose grave I speak from!’
‘Yes, it does.’
‘No, it does not!’
‘If you do not know whose grave you are speaking from, you are a LIAR and a fool!’
‘I AM NOT A LIAR!!! I AM NOT A FOOL!!!’
‘Fool! You are lying again!’
‘No, I am not!’, he sounded as if he was crying, ‘You are the liar! You can speak Cherman!’
Katrina recalled American schoolchildren’s taunting chants,
‘Liar! Liar! Your pink underpants are on fire!’
‘My pink underpants are not on fire!!!’
‘I can smell them, because you have not changed them!’
‘I have changed them! They are not on fire!...I DO NOT WEAR PINK UNDERPANTS!!!’
Peter saw the shape of a man illuminated from the streetlight. He tackled the figure…that was a store mannequin.
The cackling figure wearing a cloak with a pointed hood mask ran off pulling a microphone on a wire.
‘You run like super spazz, Toady!’
Too far away to catch him, Peter grabbed a flowerpot and threw it.
‘Death awaits you! DEATH!’
The pot broke on the masked head.
‘Ahhhhg!’
Peter taunted,
‘Toady toady toady!!!’
There was the unmistakable sound of a Volkswagen beeping; it pulled out as the masked man staggered to the car and entered. The VW shot off; Peter was unable to see a licence plate.
Deduction!
Herr Brauner and Lotte returned to her darkened house. She exited his car saying Dietmar would arrive later as he met a friend he left with.
Someone had placed a pin in an outside switch to blow out the power, Lotte replaced the fuse. Dietmar was dropped off by a friend they didn’t see.
The Polizei arrived in another Volkswagen, declared no crime had been committed, then took the mannequin away.
‘Zay haf vays of making him TALK!’
‘That is not funny, Peter!’
‘Yes, dear.’
The women were too excited to sleep, though Lotte had not been there. She broke out the Schnapps for all but Dietmar.
‘Who vould do such a thing?
Dietmar suggested that the police may have been angered by the nurse and Katrina giving them a bad time. Peter knew Katrina could get very excited, then very angry.
The well-mannered Dietmar made a surprising pronouncement,
‘There ist no proof that the woman we found was hurt, only frightened. What was she doing out by herself at night?’
Lotte and Katrina became more excited and verbally tore into Dietmar!
* * *
The Schnapps had its effect; Katrina slept soundly, but Peter lay awake.
Was Dietmar right about the police?
Peter knew from his Army experience in the American South and in swapping stories with his platoon brain trust that small town cops played rough with outsiders. Male offenders and vagrants not sent to jail would be driven out of town and given a beating; female prostitutes and minor thieves would be driven out to the countryside, warned never to return and did a lengthy agonising walk to the next town in high-heeled shoes or barefoot.
He hadn’t mentioned Max to the police; he had a sense of humour and gave no threats. However, his attaché case demonstrated ingenuity…like the microphone…
Peter wondered if Toady was trying to frighten them because he was American, and his wife married an American?
When he was in the army, every older German the G.I.s spoke to said they fought the Russians. They believed every German in East Germany told the Russian soldiers they fought the Americans and the British.
What was the nationality of the redheaded woman and the first victim? Dietmar didn’t say they weren’t German, but no one knew them…
Festival of Fog and Fear!
Their Saturday was growing foggier.
Peter, Dietmar, Katrina and Lotte drove with Herr Brauner. Both women looked splendid in Dirndls.
After the stores closed in the afternoon a small carnival would open. It was a small festival, but a fun one; everyone dressed up for it. The men not in Lederhosen dressed in suits, many in green Jäger style with no upper lapels. A few were wearing costumes that Dietmar revealed were for the afternoon procession. The police wore their pre-war Ruritanian shakos.
They split in two groups to do their shopping separately, then would meet in the afternoon for the carnival.
Two waited as Lotte entered a building to do some business.
‘Are you afraid, Katrina?’
‘Of what, Herr Brauner?’
‘Evil! Demons of the night can attack in the fog!’
She held the gold crucifix around her neck that her mother gave her.
‘Gott is the light that destroys the dark.’
* * *
Dietmar enjoyed Peter’s smile when he took him to the city’s Woolworths. They ate at a Schnellimbiss, a stand selling fast snacks with a sign reading Unsere Würste sind die besten. Peter gathered looks of amazement from the townfolk when he asked the owner to slice his Brötchen and Gurke in half, place his frankfurter inside the small bun with the halves of the gherkin and mustard on its side, like an American hot dog. No one had seen such a thing! This was the achtes Weltwunder! Germans held the pickle and frankfurter in their hands, dipping the latter into a blob of mustard on a paper plate and ate the bun and gherkin separately.
‘Auf Wiener-sehen’, joked Peter.
Thick fog increased, reminding Peter of smoke grenades on army manoeuvres. Dietmar said the fog wouldn’t affect the carnival.
After enjoying a model train shop, the pair, sharing hot chestnuts, walked across the square to meet the others. A three-piece oompah band played; Peter sighted Max with his briefcase sitting at a table in the square…
‘Dietmar! Peter!’
Herr Brauner and Lotte ran towards them,
‘Katrina ist missing!’
The two women were trying on clothes in a department store with the three agreeing to meet in a nearby cafe; Katrina never appeared…
Dietmar changed from fun-loving teenager to authoritarian,
‘Peter! Go up the stairs and search the upper part of town! I vill go to the lowest part! Ve vill meet hier in 30 minutes! If ve have not found Katrina, ve vill call the police!’
Separating made sense to cover more ground…
Peter shot up the stairs. Though it wasn’t like Katrina to go off without telling anyone, sometimes she was attracted by things…
He suddenly wondered where Herr Brauner had been when the women were shopping…
Perilous Pursuit!
The foggy streets were empty as everyone was down at the square or the carnival where Dietmar was searching.
A Volkswagen without license plates tried to run Peter over. Toady the Clown cackled!
Peter slammed into a doorway; the door was locked! The VW turned, two men wearing hooded masks were inside.
Peter ran back to the large stairwell, leapt to the centre rail, then slid down it with perfect balance. He grabbed the rail, stopping near the bottom of the stairs.
Hearing the screech of tyres, he sat down at an empty table in the square that still had a coffee cup and newspaper that he pretended to read as the VW slowly drove by searching for him.
Max was no longer in the square…
The eerie high-low-high-low sound of the German police siren! A policeman in shako stood on the small running board of the Schutzpolizei VW with one arm holding something inside, his other holding a PPK pistol. The oompah band sped up their tempo; the crowd cheered, thinking it was all part of the festival. The hunt was on!
Peter dashed to find a shortcut to view the chase.
He was lucky, but the Schutzpolizei weren’t! A pedestrian came out of a door, the police VW swerved, screeched and suddenly braked. Not a bird or a plane, the Schupomann on the small running board flew into a wall…but was uninjured.
The VW without licence plates whirred off.
‘Peter!’
It was Christof in his own Volkswagen!
‘Follow that Volkswagen!’
The chase resumed; Peter related the events as they pursued the other VW up a country laneway.
‘Stop! I’ll get out and follow them! Bring the police back here!’
Christof was holding a P-38 pistol…
Hunting Lodge of Horror!
The VW with no plates parked at a small Jagdschloss.
Still wearing their hoods, the two exited, then opened the front bonnet revealing a bound and gagged Katrina cramped inside. They frogmarched her into the hunting lodge to a man wearing a wild boar mask,
‘I am FRIKKO!’
No longer frightened, had she not been gagged she would have made an off-colour joke about pigman fikken.
She was tied spreadeagled to an altar; really a covered-up billiard table.
One of the hooded men began lighting torches on the wall but ran out of matches. He left the room cursing.
Frikko drew his knife and began chanting, the hooded man waved his dagger like a child playing pirate.
Katrina laughed.
‘This ist serious!’
The door burst open!
‘HEAPS OF CREEPS!!! Drop your weapons!’
‘Ve haff no veapons!’
‘Christmas has come early, Piggy-O!’
The enraged Peter stuffed Christof’s pistol in his waistband, then leapt into Piggy-O and the Masked Marvel with punches, kicks, blocking their attempts to strike him and grabbing their arms to throw them to the floor!
He recalled the British wartime description of Germans as either at your feet or at your throat. They were the former with the Masked Marvel pointing at and blaming Piggy-O for everything!
Peter removed the boar mask revealing Lotte’s postman, then menacingly picked up a stool,
‘”Ba-dee Ba-dee Ba-dee That’s All Folks”!’
The postman shrieked like a banshee and covered his face…
Toady laughed from behind.
‘Put your chair down and your hands up!’
Seeing Toady’s Luger, Peter obeyed.
Frikko slapped and cursed the Masked Marvel for betrayal.
‘Vere ist Christof???’
‘Take off the mask and I’ll tell you!’
‘You vill not liff to inform!’
Toady removed his hood to reveal the gaunt smouldering bespectacled freckled redhead had a bruise where Peter hit him with the flowerpot.
‘You’re too ugly, crybaby! Put it back!’
‘Vere ist CHRISTOF?’
‘I thrashed his trash ass then chucked the punk in the trunk!’
‘”Thrashass? ”Chucked??? Punk??? Trunk???”’
Another German voice ordered Toady to drop his weapon and raise his hands.
Toady turned; there was Max carrying his briefcase.
He identified himself as Kriminalpolizei Kommissar Fröbe. Toady asked if he forgot something. Max apologised and produced his warrant card.
Toady gloated that the Kommissar forgot his weapon and to raise his hands or he would use his weapon to kill!
Frikko and his stooge guffawed.
Max asked Toady if he would really kill him?
‘I vill kill all three of you!’
Frikko rubbed his hands with glee.
Kommissar Fröbe pressed a switch on the handle. A concealed submachinegun sprayed bullets into Toady’s legs that sent him down to the floor rapidly flooding with blood.
Frikko and the Masked Marvel vomited…
‘You don’t mess around, boy! You’re the Maximum Utmost!’
‘Herr Black, my superiors do not vish me to carry my pistol because someone in court complained about me using it!’
‘Don’t worry, Kommissar, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on.’
Kommissar Fröbe roared in laughter and slapped his leg, then pointed at an impatient Katrina. As he used a small radio to summon an ambulance, Peter released her.
‘Are you vell, Frau Black?’
‘Yes! Gott protects me, but Mein Mann makes me laugh!’
The Reckoning!
There were coffee, cake and testimonies at the Polizeistation.
Katrina recounted walking to the café to meet Tante Lotte and Herr Brauner, thinking how thick the fog was when she was abducted. She was frightened of suffocating in the boot but laughed at the talking pig.
Kommissar Max saw Peter enter Christof’s VW to pursue the other VW that tried to run him down; Max followed them with his VW. He revealed a Yugoslavian woman had been abducted and threatened until she had a nervous breakdown. They did the same with the redheaded woman, who also was a visiting worker.
‘I do not believe they had the intention to murder, they could haf murdered the other two women, but they did not. They were fampires who liffed off fear instead of blood. Still, we will convict them for Mordabsicht; the intention to murder! They were using pistols! I had to PROTECT myself! Their kidnapping women is beyond doubt, as Frau Black will be pleased to testify at their trial. As will you, in an excellent hotel at the expense of the State…Your employers will pay you for assisting the authorities?’
A free extended honeymoon!
‘Both their other victims are fine and eagerly await to testify at their trial!’
‘They’ll mop up the floor with those punks!’
‘Mein Mann means…’
The Kommissar laughed,
‘I understand, Frau Black, I haff learned my English from American crime movies!’
‘I do not understand the postman! Did he not have enough fear during the war?’
‘As you know, Frau Black, our Landkries was not bombed and General Patton’s forces quickly moved though our area. Our postman was not fit for military service and was a postman then. His mother and three sisters were also not affected. His helpers were too young for the war.’
‘And his father?’
‘His father had died when he was a child before the war.’
‘Only a mother and three sisters…’
‘That is not important, Peter!!!’
Both Max and Peter slapped their legs laughing.
* * *
After leaving the station the festival was in full swing.
Peter remarked,
‘It looks like the Festival of the New Wine in Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man!’
ENDE
Author Notes: Frohes Oktoberfest!
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Australia • 69 years old