Queen Sacrifice (a Saxon short story) by JJ Toner

Author:JJ Toner
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: crime, nazi germany, police detective, mystery detective, prewar germany
Publisher: JJ Toner

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The Graf Spee boxing academy was located in a better part of the city, not far from the Black Flamingo nightclub.

The first person they met was a janitor with a bucket and mop. Saxon asked to speak to the owner.

“Wait here,” said the janitor. He scurried to a room at the back and emerged accompanied by a tall individual with a bald head.

“If you want to join the club, you’ll need to talk with the boxing coach, Fritz Franck. He’s not in today, but he’ll be here tomorrow.”

The name Fritz Franck rang serious bells in Saxon’s head. Flashing his Kripo identity disk, he ran his eyes over the photographs on the wall and picked out a likely one. “Is this Herr Franck?”

“That’s Fritz. That picture was taken on the day the club opened. He’s a little chubbier these days.”

Franck was a short, stocky type, standing beside an overweight man in clerical garb. “Who’s the priest?”

“That’s Pastor Berger. He died on the Night of the Long Knives.” He shook his head. “They say he died of heart failure.”

“You name?”

“I’m Emil Richter.”

“Are you the owner of this club?”

“I’m the senior partner. How may I help you, gentlemen?”

“We’re looking for this boy.” Saxon pulled Grau’s photograph from his pocket and showed it to Richter.

“That’s young Johann Grau. He’s a member of the club. What has he done?”

“Nothing that we are aware of.” Saxon put the picture back in his pocket. “When did you last see him?”

“A couple of weeks ago. He was here with his good friend, Stephan Weiss.”

“They were close?”

“Yes, they were the best of friends. I haven’t seen Stephan for at least a week.”

“Is that unusual?”

“Stephan usually comes in every day.”

“Stephan’s been murdered,” said Keller bluntly.

Richter’s hand shot to his mouth. He sat heavily on an exercise bench. “God in heaven! That’s terrible. Who could have killed Stephan? He was too young to be mixed up in … anything that would get him killed.”

Streaming through the high windows, the early afternoon sunshine fell across a huge picture of Adolf Hitler, and two smaller pictures of the pocket battleship, the Admiral Graf Spee on its launch day – June 30 – the day before the Night of the Long Knives.

Keller examined the pictures. “Who took the photographs?”

“Fritz did. He wangled an invitation to the launch. He has admired the battleship since it first emerged from the drawing board. He even named the club after it.” He shook his head. “I still can’t believe it. We had hopes that Stephan might qualify for the Olympics.”

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