Vanished in Berlin: Kidnap suspense mystery set in 1930s Berlin (Berlin Tales Book 2) by Christopher P Jones

Author:Christopher P Jones [Jones, Christopher P]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Kidnap mystery set in 1930s Berlin
Publisher: Thinksheet
Published: 2020-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

20

The lecture audience dispersed into the Berlin night under neon lights of a nearby cabaret show. The words Tanz Kabarett glowed red and gold, shimmering in the glossy, rain-soaked street.

Arno left the hall feeling bemused and perplexed. It was by no means obvious why he was supposed to go there, and now, wondering what might come next, it was by no means obvious what he should expect.

First things first, he bought himself a cake. There was a late-night bakery next door, and from the great glass cabinet layered with cheesecakes and all types of stollen, magenbrot biscuits and animal-shaped marzipans, he picked out three franzbrötchen cakes. He liked them for their buttery pastry and the sweet cinnamon fragrance. He went to a bench and took small bites, trying to catch the pastry crumbs in his hand and then licking his palm so as not to waste any.

It was eight o’clock in the evening and the city was lighting up all around him. He noticed two prostitutes across the road exchanging money with a man in an over-sized woollen cap. Arno guessed he was their drug dealer, as a little packet of white powder was passed from his pocket into the purse of one of the women.

Just then, a man’s voice addressed him from behind. ‘Berlin can be a gruesome place at times,’ the voice said dolefully. ‘But the cakes are second to none!’

Arno looked up and recognised the face of the old man from the lecture hall.

‘May I introduce myself?’ the man said. ‘My name is Lassner. Herr Mattias Lassner.’

‘Pleased to meet you,’ Arno replied. In fact, he was not sure if he was pleased to meet the old gent again. Above all, he wanted to eat his food in peace.

Herr Lassner took the liberty of sitting down on the bench beside Arno. He crossed his thin legs as if he intended to stay there for a while, and adjusted his red neck-scarf as he spoke. ‘It never ceases to amaze me how brazen some of these folk are.’ He pointed to the prostitutes over the road. ‘I think they want to be noticed.’

Arno smiled as he rose to his feet. He intended to move away, but not wanting to appear rude, pretended to examine his watch. ‘Time for me to be going,’ he said.

For some reason, it didn’t cross his mind that Lassner was the specific reason he was meant to go to the lecture, nor did it occur to him that seeing Lassner and Göring together on the stage in the hall, behaving like long-lost friends, was something he was supposed to witness. It was not until Lassner said what he said next that Arno turned and understood that a piece of the jigsaw had slotted into place right in front of his eyes.

‘I’m working on the Vendetta project too,’ the old man said, with a crisp edge of excitement to his voice.

‘Vendetta?’ Arno asked.

‘Yes.’

‘You’re involved in Vendetta?’

‘I do believe I am.’ Lassner gave a wry, if slightly nervous smile.

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