A Case of Growing Cold
A behind the scenes "scene" from the Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series
Back story is a big deal when it comes to writing books, and some character’s back stories are complicated. Such is the case with Kommissar Joseph Heinz, one of my favorite characters from my steamy crime series, The Checkpoint, Berlin Detective Series. Heinz is first introduced in book one, Exposed: The Education of Sarah Brown, where he is already years beyond the case that nearly cost him his career. It did, however, cost him his family. While not every scene can make it into the books, behind the scenes “scenes” can be offered outside the series by the author for readers to enjoy. Heinz went through a great deal, and much of it is laid out in books one and two, but then it all comes full circle in book three, The Redemption of Joseph Heinz.
Checkpoint, Berlin is my flagship, award-winning series, one I’m proud of, and one that produced characters that, for me, came to life in an unforgettable way. The four-book series is complete, but, of course, I left one or two threads open to explore in future…
I hope you enjoy this scene of A Case of Growing Cold.
“Papa, she’s gone! Marlessa is gone!”
The words rang in his ears like an echo even now as he stared at the ships leaving the Port of Hamburg. She’d been here, he was sure of it. One eyewitness statement claimed that a sailor had been seen carting a young woman over his shoulder as he boarded a Russian cargo carrier three nights ago. All efforts to obtain the dock manifest led to naught. According to the port authority, no such ship had departed on that night or any other in the last month. Still, the witness had been certain, and Heinz believed her.
But now, he’d run out of leads. He didn’t know what he would tell his daughter when he returned to Berlin. Worse, Marlessa’s parents were waiting for news. How could he face them? The Schuberts had been their friends for most of the girls’ lives. Ingrid and Marlessa were inseparable, always with each other wherever they went, except for that last day. Marlessa left school with a young man no one seemed to know, and she hadn’t returned. The police had been called, but the Schuberts insisted only Kommissar Joseph Heinz should handle the case. He was their family friend, and he knew their daughter. Another detective just wouldn’t do.
Heinz rubbed his chest, trying to ease the pain. Knowing he would see his own daughter again was his only consolation. He just hoped she could forgive his failure. Even then, he was sure guilt would eat him alive. He needed answers now. Heinz’s head spun, thoughts tumbling a mile a minute. There had to be other witnesses. He just needed to dig deeper, comb the docks for sailors, loaders, and any other workers. He eyed the setting sun. The dock was quiet now, the warehouses closing. There would be no new answers today.
A sigh escaped him. He would come back tomorrow and begin again. Tonight, he needed a drink. It seemed the only thing that helped lately. At least, it numbed the pain and the growing self-loathing. Had it been his own daughter and not someone else’s, would he have already found answers? Would he not tear the world apart to find her? Of course, he would. He could do no less for Marlessa Schubert. The girl had grown up running through his house, eating in his kitchen, sharing Ingrid’s room for sleepovers. Although he was not her father, he felt he was an honorary uncle.
Heinz glanced down at the notebook in his hand. The few names scribbled there had not provided any new clues. His hand shook with rage, but he pocketed the notebook and clenched his fist. One name remained that he’d not been able to investigate yet. Ivchencko Enterprises. There’d been two references on the dock manifest the month before. It was the only Russian-sounding business he’d found, but there were no inbound or outbound cargo ships in the current month related to Ivchencko Enterprises listed. One detail, however, prickled at the back of his mind. A blank line. It looked like someone had erased something on the manifest, but the dock master claimed no knowledge of what it could have been, and Heinz believed the older gentleman. He’d been genuinely perplexed.
Still, someone had erased something. Could it have been the ship he was looking for? He needed to look at that manifest again, and he needed to find out the chain of custody. Someone besides the dock master himself had made changes to the list. Someone knew something, and Heinz needed to discover who that person was, quickly.
He swallowed, his throat dry. The sun winked over the horizon, then disappeared altogether leaving behind a weak glow fading to darkness by the second. A drink. Just one drink, and then he’d make the long drive back to Berlin, face the disappointment on his family’s and friends’ faces, and rise tomorrow to renew the search.
Heinz left the dock and located his car. He automatically drove to the nearest pub where the bartender was already familiar with his usual. He pressed the gas pedal, anticipating the burn of a shot of Johnnie Walker Black Label whiskey, and the rush of warmth it would bring to his cold, tired bones. He promised himself that tonight, he would stop at just one…
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