A Price for Balancing the Scales

by W Earl Daniels

  “Good,” replied Cedric. “Because I wouldn’t want to have to tell you.”

  They both got in the car, and Cedric said, “Now, I am going to drive you past Fräulein Walker’s office and hopefully you will be able to identify one of our stalking friends for me. I will drop you off at the end of the street and position myself where I can follow your bus. Should you change to the U-Bahn, call to let me know the station that is your destination.”

  “I’ll do better than that. When I call Fräulein Walker to tell her that she can leave her office, I will ask the station where she will get off. I’ll call you so that you can position yourself at the station exit.”

  “OK. While I get a little familiar with this car, why don’t you put Fräulein Walker’s office address into our GPS?”

  “Roger that, Captain,” Huck said with a grin on his face.

  As Cedric made a drive-by of Walker’s office, Huck spotted Scar Face leaning against a lamppost on the same side of the street as Walker’s building. “There’s Scar Face against the lamppost.”

  “I see him,” said Cedric. “Nice scar along the side of his face. Wonder how the other guy looks?”

  When Cedric stopped the car at the intersection, Huck slid out of the passenger seat and made his way to the curb. From there he walked on the opposite side of the street until he was in front of Walker’s office. The time was 1:50 p.m. Huck called Walker, who answered right away.

  “Fräulein, you can leave your office any time now. If you will be taking the U-Bahn, tell me the station where you will exit.”

  “I will exit at the Riedberg station.”

  “Remember to walk a little slower than usual so that I won’t lose you in a crowd. I’ll be no more than two people behind you at all times. Again, do not look for me or for anyone you think might to be a stalker.”

  “I understand,” said Walker.

  Huck called Cedric to advise him of the station where Walker would depart the train. Cedric immediately put the station into the car’s GPS system. Within seconds, he was driving toward the Riedberg station.

  Chapter 29

  The walls no longer seemed to be closing in for Carl Rouse because his mind was beginning to adapt to his confined quarters. He thought, Were it not for my marine training, I would now be a basket case.

  This meant that Rouse had developed a daily regimen for his body that in turn would strengthen his mind. Accordingly, he had a morning routine consisting of push-ups, sit-ups, running in place, and pull-ups. There was a window with bars about eight feet from the floor. He discovered that if he jumped as high as he could, he could grasp the bars with his hands. He could then pull himself up until his chin reached the windowsill. He would work out until he was totally exhausted.

  When he lay down to rest his physical body, he would put his mind to a series of memory exercises. He would field strip or take apart every weapon he had ever fired. He would concentrate on disassembling every component and then, with extreme detail, reassemble the weapon. He would try to recall the words of poems or songs he had learned in school. He had completely disassembled an automobile engine and put it back together.

  He would then try to recall, in detail, the facial features of his mother, father, and ex-wife and remember the things that seemed to make them happy. By the time he finished his mental gymnastics, his lunch tray was slid through the door. Although the food was never good, he forced himself to eat whatever he was given because he knew that one day he would need his strength when placed in the prison’s general population.

  For now he remained in solitary confinement. Law enforcement did not want anything to happen to him before he had his day in court. The death of the state representative would be minimal compared to something happening to the man’s alleged killer.

  Rouse had, for the most part, reconciled himself to the likelihood that he would spend the rest of his life in prison. Although he was innocent, there was nothing short of a confession from Lester Storey, a.k.a. Mr. S. that would offset the hard evidence against him. Although he’d never met the state representative and had never known him or of him, and even though the prosecutor could not find a plausible motive for what he was alleged to have done, there he sat. Rouse couldn’t deny the evidence they had against him. They’d found his passport at the scene of the crime, along with the weapon that was used to kill the representative with his fingerprints all over it, and they’d caught him trying to leave the country with a bogus passport. In short, he was faced with a case where the truth would never balance the justice that was in store for him. Maybe, Rouse thought, my ignorance warrants my current situation.

  Before Rouse could drift into another bout of self-pity, there was a banging on his cell door. When he arose from his bed, two letters were pushed under his door. Letters from home gave him a burst of hope because his mother was always so positive. She filled him with encouragement and the reassurance that all were praying for the truth to be revealed. The letters were also hurtful in that they reminded him of the expense his mother was undertaking to secure his lawyer and retain detectives to uncover the truth. He had begged her to cease her efforts, but she had refused.

  He looked at the two letters and tried to decide which to open first. He noted that one had his mother’s return address but was not written in her hand. He immediately thought, Something has happened to Mom and I can’t be there to help. He decided to open it first.

  It began “Dear Son,” and he knew right away that it was not from his mother because she always began her letters with “My Loving Son.” Reading further, he discovered that the letter was from his father, whom he had not talked to since his parents had divorced ten years ago. To his surprise, he discovered that they had reunited in their efforts to secure his freedom. His father and taken a construction job in the DC area and had moved in with his mother to help with expenses. He reassured Carl that the two of them would never give up working to prove his innocence and Carl was safely returned to the United States.

  Carl sat on his bed and stared at the letter in total disbelief. He could not help but think that if his going to jail had reunited his parents, then it made the ordeal worth more than he could have ever imagined. He could not bear the thought of his mother living the remainder of her life alone and far from her only son.

  He laid the letter on his pillow with the intent of reading it a few more times. Peering at the second letter, he found the handwriting to be familiar, but there was no return address on the envelope. As he opened it, a familiar aroma emanated from the paper. There was only one person he knew who wore that perfume. He thought, This is probably going to be a reminder that I was told nothing good was going to come from volunteering for a third tour in Afghanistan.

  Carl wasn’t sure he wanted to read it. His father’s letter had just lifted him up and now he suspected he was about to be ripped down by his ex-wife’s letter.

  “My Dearest Carl,” it began. Carl was stunned and wondered if he’d read those three words correctly. He thought, There has to be something really bad buried somewhere in this letter. He continued reading. He’d been shocked to get a letter of such a positive nature from his father, but he was even more surprised by the letter from his ex-wife. In it she told him that it was her self-centeredness and her intent to prove to him that she would do what she said that had resulted in their separation. She acknowledged that she still loved him and that she was joining forces with his parents to prove his innocence. Finally, she wrote, “Carl, you have always been my only love, and if you can forgive me, I would like for us give our marriage another try. Yes, I will remarry you, if you will have me. Forever I will be your loving wife.” An impression of her lips was just below her signature.

  These two letters will see me through anything that lies before me, thought Carl. From this day forward, he would pray every day that, God willing, he would be found innocent of the charges against him. And if t
he truth was not revealed in the trial, then Carl would know that God must have a plan for him. He would pray every day that he was in prison that God would reveal that plan to him. He would also pray for the courage and stamina to make it through to the end. Carl just could not let himself believe that God’s plan for him was life in a German prison.

  At that very moment, Carl got down on his knees beside his bed and prayed for God to forgive him for his sins and lack of faithfulness and asked that God be his guiding light in the difficult days that lie before him.

  Chapter 30

  Huck arrived at the bus stop before Walker. There he rocked from one side to the other, trying to give the impression of a businessman impatient to get to his destination. Without displaying any recognition of Huck, Walker stepped past him, standing near to his left shoulder. Behind Huck was Scar Face.

  When the bus rolled to a stop and opened its doors, Walker was one of the first to climb its steps. Scar Face pushed past Huck and followed her. With his actions, Scar Face had unknowingly permitted Huck with the opportunity to get a fix on where the two in front of him took their seats. Scar Face sat across from Walker but never once looked in her direction. Because of their close proximity, Huck thought it best to take a seat behind Scar Face. Should Scar Face attempt something when the bus came to stop at the U-Bahn station, Huck wanted to be prepared to make his move on the man.

  The exit from the bus went smoothly. Walker made straight for the stairs leading down to the underground where the trains would be arriving. Then it dawned on Huck that this might be the perfect spot for Scar Face to make his move if he was to make Walker’s death appear to be an accident. The crowd waiting for the train was growing. And it appeared that Scar Face was intentionally creating pressure behind Walker to cause her to move closer to the edge of the platform. If she were to get too close to or beyond the platform warning lights announcing an approaching train, she could easily be pushed in front of it.

  Not taking any chances, Huck dialed Cedric.

  Cedric answered, “What’s up, Huck?”

  “I need you to return to the Lange Strasse U-Bahn station. This is beginning to look like a place where Scar Face will have the opportunity to make his move.”

  “On it!” exclaimed Cedric as he turned on his blue light and made a U-turn in the middle of the street.

  As the platform lights began to blink, signaling the approach of an oncoming train, Huck noticed that Scar Face had successfully maneuvered Walker to where she was actually standing on the lights. Huck worked his way directly behind Scar Face’s left shoulder. He then retrieved a pair of handcuffs he carried in his rear pocket. He opened the link he planned to clasp on Scar Face’s wrist if he made any move that suggested he was trying to push Walker in front of the train.

  When the train drew near and it was obvious that the speed would carry it at least two or three cars beyond where Walker was standing, Huck detected Scar Face’s open left hand move back in a manner that suggested he planned to shove Walker in the middle of her back, which would send her on the track in front of the approaching train.

  Huck carefully moved his right hand, which was holding the opened cuff, in front of Scar Face’s left wrist. If he made a sudden move forward to push Walker, his wrist would feel the cuff’s grasp.

  When the train’s lead car was within six feet of Walker, Scar Face made his move, drawing his left hand back as if to forcefully plant it in the center of Walker’s back and send her sprawling onto the track.

  It was then that Scar Face felt the metal grab him on his wrist and heard a quiet but stern whisper of German words in his ear. “Not this time!”

  Scar Face turned in Huck’s direction. “What is this?”

  “You are under arrest. Come with me,” answered Huck.

  By now Huck had clasped the other link of the handcuff to his own wrist. He gave Scar Face a jerk, which gave the man no choice but to follow Huck.

  As Huck pulled Scar Face from the crowd toward the U-Bahn exit, one of the U-Bahn security officers moved in Huck’s direction. Huck reached inside his coat, withdrew the bogus subpoena, and held it up so that the security officer could see it. Huck said, “Reluctant witness.”

  The security officer nodded. “Need help?”

  “No, but thank you,” replied Huck.

  Huck dragged the unwilling man up the stairs to the U-Bahn exit, where he saw the black BMW with the blinking blue light make a sudden U-turn and come to an abrupt stop in front of them.

  Huck, still pulling on a resisting Scar Face, rounded the rear of the car and opened the door. He shoved Scar Face inside and slid in next to him. He then handed Cedric a card with an address on it and said, “Go!”

  At the same time, Huck withdrew from his coat pocket the see-proof hood he had acquired at the novelty shop; and, pulled it over Scar Face’s head.”

  Hearing the word go in English, Scar Face asked through the hood, “Sprichst du Englisch?”

  “Yes, I do speak English, and that will be the luckiest part of your day,” replied Huck.

  “Why are you doing this to me?”

  “We’ll discuss all that at the proper time and place. For now it is in your best interests to keep your mouth shut and enjoy what may well be your last ride. You see, we are not really German police; we are interested Americans who are willing to deploy any tactics necessary to secure the truth. While you enjoy the ride, you might want to ponder the word any because I can assure you that we will not hesitate to go to any lengths, regardless of the pain to you, to secure the truth. And, if it is any comfort, your breaking point is the level of pain you can withstand. So you might want to ask yourself that if you are going to end up telling us what we want to know, why go through the unnecessary pain?”

  Scar Face sat back in the seat and appeared to give some serious thought to what Huck had said. However, he came out of his deep thinking to a sudden surprise as the BMW stopped in front of the building, and the hood was removed from his head, he knew, at one time, as the location of Empire Enterprises. A quick thought ran through his mind: Has Mr. S. betrayed me?

  Inside the former office of Empire Enterprises, Huck found that all had been arranged in accordance with his instructions to the building manager. Scar Face was no longer resisting Huck’s guidance.

  Huck first took the handcuff from his own wrist and fastened both of Scar Face’s wrists behind his back. He then gave him a pat down, removing his money, cell phone, keys, and belt. It was no surprise to Huck that when he pulled Scar Face’s belt from his pants, a 9mm MAB PA-15 pistol fell to the floor. A MAB PA-15 is a French-made handgun used primarily by the French military and law enforcement. It holds a fifteen-round clip, and this one had a suppressor attached to its barrel.

  “What do we have here?” exclaimed Huck.

  Scar Face did not comment.

  After ensuring that Scar Face had nothing remaining in his pockets, and after placing the newly discovered weapon in his own waistband, Huck said, “Have a seat on the bed.”

  When Scar Face was seated, Huck took the handcuff linked to the man’s left wrist and clasped it to the foot leg of the bed. He then took the second pair of handcuffs from his pocket and hooked one link to Scar Face’s right wrist and the second link to the top of the bed’s headboard. This placed Scar Face in a slightly leftward bent position, with his arms spread eagle.

  Huck said, “I know you do not find this to be very comfortable, but understand that you will remain in that position until I get the information I want from you.”

  The door opened and Cedric walked in. “The car is parked in a lot about a block away. It appears that you are making our guest feel somewhat less than at home.”

  “He knows that a change in his position will result from his cooperation,” said Huck.

  “What do you want to know?” asked Scar Face.

  “First, I want to kno
w why you are trying to kill Fraulein Walker,” responded Huck.

  “I’m not trying—”

  “Don’t hand me that crap!” exclaimed Huck. “You’ve tried to push her not once but twice, first in front of a bus and, just moments ago, in front of a train. You are not starting off our conversation in a way that I perceive to be cooperative. I certainly do not want to add pain to your uncomfortable position. So why don’t you do yourself a favor and answer my questions honestly.”

  Cedric interjected, “Trust me, you don’t want to see him get angry.”

  “I was following instructions,” said Scar Face.

  “Now we are cooperating.”

  “I’m not saying anything else until I you tell me what I get for my cooperation.”

  “Well, you could avoid a very long swim in the Rhine River, you might avoid a charge of murder of a German state representative, and you might avoid a long sentence for participating in the murder.”

  “I did not murder a state representative!”

  “Your statement is not very convincing. Did Rouse kill the representative?”

  “I don’t know a Rouse.”

  “You don’t know Rouse? Have you already forgotten the little game the five of you and Mr. S. played in this very room?”

  Scar Face thought for a few moments. “All of us, except for Mr. S., were known only by numbers.”

  “Let me refresh your memory. There was you, an American, an Irishman, a Middle Easterner, and an Asian. Why don’t you tell me their numbers?”

  “I was number one; the American was initially number five, but when the Asian left, the American became number four; the Irishman was number two; the Middle Easterner was number three; the Asian was initially number four.”

  “Did you ever see the Asian again?”

  “Yes. He just left the meeting, but when he returned, he was not given a number. We just called him Slant Eyes.”