Stolen Heritage: Gripping Crime Thriller (Private Detective Heinrich Muller Crime Thriller Book 3)

by Robert Brown

  Jan turned away, not wanting to look at him. The kid looked embarrassed. Heinrich pulled the plastic bag out of his hand and threw it on the ground.

  “Don’t worry, kid,” Heinrich said. “We all mess up sometimes. It’s all over now. You hungry?”

  The teen with the bottle shoved him. “He doesn’t want to talk with you, asshole. Get the fuck out of here.”

  Heinrich slugged him. At the last moment he realized he was striking a sixteen-year-old and pulled his punch, but it still knocked the kid back. His beer bottle fell to the ground and smashed.

  The kid looked at him in disbelief, blood welling out of his nose. Then he and his friends scattered.

  Shit. I can’t believe I just did that. He’s just like Jan. There are so many of them.

  Heinrich turned back to the kid slumped on the park bench.

  Jan’s not going to end up like that.

  “You didn’t have to punch him,” Jan said. His words came out slurred.

  “You’re right. I shouldn’t have done that. What happened here?” Heinrich pointed at Jan’s black eye.

  The kid got a hard look on his face. “Some guy with a bad temper hit me.”

  “Sorry. I know I have a temper. I know I have a bad attitude. But I care about you. You nearly gave me a heart attack running away like that.”

  Heinrich kicked away the bag of glue, looked around to make sure the teens had really left, and sat beside Jan. The boy edged away.

  “Everyone at the halfway house is worried sick about you.”

  “No they’re not. They hate me there. They say I cause trouble.”

  “You and every other kid in that place. What have you been doing the past few days? Where did you sleep? How did you get food?”

  Jan shrugged, still not looking at him. Heinrich decided not to press the issue. Whatever the kid had done, he didn’t have to do it anymore.

  “You know you can’t stay out here. The police are looking for you.”

  “Fuck the police.”

  “Don’t quote N.W.A. at me, kid. The street is no place for you. You were doing so good at the halfway house.”

  “What do you care?” Jan griped.

  “Of course I care. I came all the way from Athens to find you.”

  “You’ll just leave again.” Jan looked over at where the bag of glue lay on the pavement.

  “Not this time. I got a job here.”

  That got Jan’s attention. The boy gave him a sharp look, mistrust and hope mingling in his expression.

  “A big private detective agency in the States has hired me to open a branch in Europe. Said I could have an office wherever I like. So I told them I’d set it up in Warsaw.”

  “Why would you pick this dump of a town?”

  “Why do you think, dumbass?”

  Jan didn’t say anything. After a moment he turned away. Jan’s shoulders shook but he made no sound. Heinrich gave him some time.

  When he turned back to face Heinrich, his eyes were red.

  “When would you come?” Jan asked, a trace of suspicion lingering in his voice. He looked more sober now.

  “Soon. I can stay for a couple of weeks right now. Then I’ll have to go back to New York and arrange things. Rent out my apartment and stuff like that. That will take a month or so.”

  “And you’d come back after that.”

  “Yes.”

  “Promise?”

  “Yes.”

  “And how long would you stay?”

  “Forever.”

  Jan sat quietly for a time. Heinrich decided to break the silence. He turned and jabbed a finger in Jan’s chest.

  “But you got to stop fucking up. No more punching people.”

  “But he was a dickhead!”

  “What have I told you? If I punched every dickhead I met, I’d wear my fists down to stumps.”

  Jan grinned, the first smile he’d made since Heinrich had found him.

  “Instead, you do that jacking off. You still can’t get a woman, can you?”

  “Oh, shut up.”

  Jan cackled and jumped up and down. The glue was wearing off and he was getting his youthful energy back. “Ah, I can see! You met a hot chick in Greece and she wasn’t interested in you.” Jan switched to English. “You struck out again, boy!”

  “Where did you learn that expression? I didn’t teach you that one.”

  “YouTube. You never teach me the good ones.” Jan switched to English again. “You are a forty-five-year-old virgin!”

  Heinrich cuffed him playfully. “Haven’t been one since I was younger than you, wiseass. Let’s get you back.”

  Jan’s face darkened a little. Heinrich put a hand on his shoulder.

  “The place isn’t so bad when you follow the rules. You get three meals a day and you don’t have to sleep in doorways.”

  “They wouldn’t even let me do my model.”

  “Don’t punch kids and they’ll let you. Come on.”

  Gently, Heinrich led Jan out of the park and onto the street. He had to find a cab. The halfway house was almost two miles away and he didn’t think he could make it another hundred yards. The adrenaline that had kept him going all this time had left him.

  “What happened to you?” Jan asked.

  “Tracking down some murderers in Greece. They tried to murder me a couple of times.”

  “They almost did.”

  Heinrich nodded. “Yeah. Is your head clearing now?”

  Jan nodded and kicked an empty beer can on the pavement, sending it clattering down the road.

  “You going to tell them I sniffed glue?”

  “They’ll probably figure that out for themselves.”

  “I hate that place. They say I have to stay until I’m sixteen.”

  “That’s less than a year.”

  “Ugh, that’s forever.”

  “It’ll go quick. If you behave, I can visit a lot.”

  Jan looked at him hopefully. “After I get out, can I live with you?”

  The question took him aback.

  Of course he would ask that. What did you think? This is what you’re signing up for.

  Heinrich had been so embroiled in the case and in the stress of almost losing this kid, he hadn’t really thought their situation through. When Jan got out, he wouldn’t want to go back to his drunken, useless parents. That would just make him slip back into his old habits. And he didn’t have anywhere else to go. Coming here, Heinrich had essentially promised to take care of him.

  And that meant a full-time commitment.

  “Yes,” Heinrich said, after what he realized was too long of a pause. “Yes, you can live with me until you’re an adult and get a job and all that.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise,” Heinrich said, looking him in the eye.

  “Will I get my own room?”

  “Of course.”

  “Yeah, you need privacy for all those girls you won’t be bringing home.”

  “Wiseass.”

  “Do I have to go to school?”

  “Yes, you have to go to school and you have to graduate. And you have to perfect your English. I’ll teach you a couple of other languages as well. Your German is pretty good. I’ll get you finished on that. French, too. You have a talent just like me. You don’t want to waste it. But first, before all that happens, you have to get in gear. No more trouble at the halfway house. No more fights. No more talking back to staff. Better grades.”

  “Sure,” Jan said, suddenly happy again. He strode forward, almost skipping, almost the kid he should have already been. The glue had worn off and hope had taken its place.

  For the rest of the way back, they talked happily about the kind of apartment that Heinrich was going to get and where they’d go when Jan got out of detention, because running away meant a long time in detention with no privileges. Jan sloughed this off with youthful enthusiasm, looking ahead at all the good things waiting for him down the line.

  These sudden about-tu
rns never ceased to amaze Heinrich. Perhaps Jan was a bit bipolar. Heinrich would have to talk to the monitors about that. Really, though, Heinrich suspected most of it could be put down to the fact that Jan was a naturally optimistic and outgoing kid who kept getting beaten down by life. The thuggish exterior was just armor. When he felt safe, all that dropped away.

  I should have moved here earlier, Heinrich thought.

  The scene at the halfway house wasn’t as bad as Heinrich feared. It was two in the morning, so all the kids were asleep and only three monitors were on duty—two men and a pretty female nurse. He recognized Tanek, the head night monitor, but not the other two. As the nurse took Jan away for a checkup, Tanek sat in the living room with Heinrich.

  “I think you could use a coffee,” Tanek said.

  “Please.”

  The monitor got them some coffee. Heinrich drank it with profound gratitude.

  “So how long are you staying this time?” Tanek asked.

  “A couple of weeks, then back to New York and then back here.”

  Tanek shifted uncomfortably. “Mr. Muller, while we very much appreciate what you just did, it doesn’t change the situation with Jan. As we told you—”

  “I’m moving here.”

  Tanek blinked. “Excuse me?”

  “I just got a job with Executive International Security Corporation to set up a branch office in Warsaw. Good pay, stable job, and I won’t have to travel too much after the first year or so. I’m here to stay.”

  Tanek smiled. “Mr. Muller, you are a remarkable man. This changes everything.”

  “Yes, it does,” the nurse said, smiling at Heinrich as she entered the living room with Jan. She put her hand on his shoulder and turned to the juvenile delinquent. “I don’t think we’ll be having any more problems with you, will we?”

  “No, ma’am,” Jan said.

  Heinrich’s jaw dropped.

  Ma’am? Since when does that little shit say “ma’am”?

  “That’s good to hear, Jan,” Tanek said, standing. “I’m afraid we’ll have to put you in lockup for the next few nights, though. House rules.”

  Jan nodded. “I know,” he said quietly.

  The nurse led Jan down a hallway. Heinrich and Tanek followed.

  They came to the end of the hall, to a bedroom with nothing but a bed, toilet, and sink. No windows, no books or TV. Nothing. A small window of meshed glass in the door allowed the monitors to see inside. Heinrich’s stomach turned. It looked like a jail cell.

  Jan paused at the doorway and took off his shoes and belt.

  “What are you doing?” Heinrich asked.

  “Rules,” Jan grumbled. “They don’t want me to hang myself with my laces or something. So stupid. Why would I do that?”

  “Rules are rules, Jan,” the nurse said. “They’re there for everybody’s protection.”

  “When can Heinrich visit?” Jan asked.

  “We’ll see,” Tanek said.

  “But he came all the way here,” Jan whined.

  “Soon,” Tanek said.

  Jan entered the room and Tanek closed and locked the door behind him. Heinrich resisted the urge to look away. Jan came to the window.

  “Be good and you’ll get out of there soon enough,” Heinrich said.

  “Can we go to the zoo?” Jan’s voice was a kid’s again.

  “As soon as you’re allowed out, I’ll take you. That’s a promise.”

  Jan grinned. “Remember last time when that fat old guy was teasing the monkeys and they threw shit at him?”

  Heinrich laughed. “We should have gotten that on camera.”

  “It would have totally gone viral!” Jan laughed.

  “Maybe next time. Take care, buddy. Get some sleep and see you soon.”

  From a switch just outside the door, Tanek turned out the light. The glow from the hallway allowed them to see the kid get into bed, looking utterly exhausted. Heinrich rapped on the door and waved. Jan waved back.

  They returned to the living room.

  “Feel free to finish your coffee, Mr. Muller,” Tanek said. “I have to call the police and inform them that Jan is safe. Then, thanks to him, I have a mountain of paperwork to do.”

  Tarek walked out. Heinrich sat down and let out a long, slow breath. His eyes felt gritty as he rubbed them.

  “You’re a good man, Jan talks about you a lot.”

  That was the nurse. Heinrich hadn’t realized she was still there.

  “He’s a good kid if he’s given a chance.”

  The nurse sat next to him. She was petite, with a short blonde bob and crystalline blue eyes.

  “You know, when he was doing that airplane model you sent him, he stopped one of the other kids from sniffing the glue?”

  Heinrich thought of the ugly scene back on the street.

  “But he was doing it himself tonight.”

  The nurse nodded. “I know. He admitted it. He even said he was sorry. He’s worried what you think.”

  “I think he needs to get his shit together.”

  The nurse smiled. She wasn’t bad looking; she appeared to be in her late thirties.

  She extended a hand. Heinrich glanced down and saw that she had no wedding ring.

  “I’m Olga.”

  Ugly name. Hey, I can live with that.

  They shook hands.

  “Do you want me to take a look at your arm?” she asked, indicating the big bandage on his forearm from where the antiquities smuggler had slashed it.

  “No. They have decent doctors in Greece. Got this on a case.”

  Olga looked at him with concern. “And those bruises all over your face? Were those from a case too?”

  “Yeah. Goes with the territory.”

  She smiled, and that smile wasn’t professional at all.

  “Looks like you need someone to take care of you as much as Jan does.”

  “Sometimes I feel the same way.”

  “I’m very interested in Jan’s case, Mr. Muller, and I think it would be good to get to know you better. Actually, I feel I know all about you already. Jan has told me so much about you. And of course I read about you in the paper when you and he found the Nazi train.”

  “That was a hell of an adventure. Call me Heinrich.”

  “OK, Heinrich.”

  There was a pause. Heinrich tried to think of something to say but his mind was so fogged with fatigue, it was difficult.

  “You know, Warsaw has a lot of street kids,” he finally said. “Back in New York, there was a program called midnight basketball to keep them from getting in trouble. It really worked. You think I could set up something like that?”

  Olga smiled. “One thing at a time, Heinrich. I think you’re going to find that you have your hands full with Jan.”

  Heinrich chuckled. “Yeah, I guess I will.”

  “We should talk about that. You’re going to need some help. Shall we … meet sometime?”

  Heinrich looked her in the eye, not believing what he was hearing. Suddenly he felt a bit flustered.

  “Well, sure. Are you working tomorrow?”

  “I mean when I’m free.”

  Even better.

  “Lunch tomorrow, maybe?” Heinrich asked.

  “All right. From what I’ve heard, you are a very interesting man. And it looks like you’ll be around here a lot more.”

  She brought out her phone to take his number, moving closer than she had to.

  “Yeah.” Heinrich nodded, feeling relaxed for the first time in a week. “I think I’m going to be around here every day.”

  About the Author

  Robert Brown is an author and former freelance journalist in is mid-forties from California. Having been born and raised in the UK he moved to the US as a teenager with his family where he now lives with his wife and two children.

  Robert has always been intrigued by true crime which led in part to his previous career of a freelance journalist writing for local publications primarily about unsolved
murders. It was obvious to Robert that his passion for this genre would lead to him writing his first book "Deadly Illusions" in 2017.

  Apart from writing Robert loves to spend time with his family and to indulge his other passion of the great outdoors. Having been raised in the UK it's no surprise that Robert is also a keen anglophile which is also reflected in his writing.

  Robert has a unique writing style that uses both his UK and US backgrounds that creates stories that can be enjoyed by readers on both sides of the pond. Keep an eye out for further publications from Robert soon.

  Free Bonus Chapter of BEYOND THE WINDOW by Robert Brown

  Heinrich Muller had interviewed potential clients in many strange places—under bridges, at heavy metal concerts, even in the living room of a collector of Nazi memorabilia. When one was a private detective that came with the territory. But of all the hidden corners and odd locations where he had heard clients’ stories and listened to their pleas for help, this one had to be the worst.

  Starbucks.

  He hated the soulless chain stores ruining his once-vibrant City of New York. Starbucks was right there at the top of his shit list.

  Standing in line waiting for his coffee, he couldn’t count the number of square beards, ironically waxed moustaches, cat’s-eye glasses, and heads of dyed hair that surrounded him. The hipsters were an invading army, and this was their command center.

  “I’d like a Caramel Brulé Frappuccino,” said someone in line ahead of him.

  “I’d like a Toasted White Chocolate Mocha with soy milk.”

  “I’d like a Chestnut Praline Latte with extra whipped cream.”

  Heinrich shook his head and tried not to hit someone. These weren’t coffees; these were confections.

  “Next, please,” said the guy with the nose ring behind the counter.

  The twenty-something in front of Heinrich didn’t hear. He was too busy on Facebook.

  Heinrich prodded him.

  “You’re up, phone zombie.”

  The guy turned with what was intended to be a withering stare. The effect was ruined by the fact that he was wearing a tweed vest and a bow tie. In any case, the expression died as soon as he saw the person who had poked him in the small of the back—a man twice his age and ten times his muscle mass. Heinrich boxed three times a week and pumped iron on off days. This guy’s idea of exercise was mashing an avocado.