Cut to the Chase

Donnerstag, Dezember 2, 1926. Hans-Erich and Joachim, two small-time crooks, are sitting at their usual table at the Café Friedrich, a dingy bar not too far from the Nollendorfplatz. The foggy street outside is almost empty, and the bar is only filled to perhaps a third of capacity, with patrons eyeing each other over beers and wine glasses. The bar is ridiculously smoky, and even the sickly yellowish walls seem to be pumping tar into the fetid atmosphere.

"Did I tell you that I ran into Hubert Bosch this Monday?" Joachim lit a cigarette while looking up at Hans-Erich.

"The police investigator? That little round man?"

"Precisely. He was asking around about these cases of grave robbery that some people have been talking about. You know, where there are some whispers that somebody's awfully interested in the... naughty bits of recently dead women of fertile age."

"That's interesting. Does Bosch think he can solve the case, or does he have any other stake in the grave robberies?" Joachim finished his beer, pointed at the glass and nodded towards the waiter for another round.

"I dunno. He may actually have been gathering information for someone else, and he was possibly seen with some Englishmen or Americans after work. It's unclear. But I can tell you what seems to have happened on Tuesday evening. You may have heard the general mayhem that seems to have started just by the Invalidenfriedhof?"

"Yes, what was that all about? Had this something to do with Rudy's gang?" Hans-Erich leaned forward over the rickety table.

"Precisely! It seems as if Rudy and some of his goons were hired to take care of some of the recent 'vagrants' that ended up in the Invalidenfriedhof. The goons, not including that bastard Rudy himself, were apparently hired by a guy named Erich, with a last name starting with a 'K'. Kowalski? Anyway, they were ambushed by God knows who. There were fights and gun shots in the dark, and it all ended up with a spectacular car chase, with Rudy's goons in a truck, throwing corpses at some unknown pursuers that were firing guns at the truck. They almost crashed into a movie theater, wrecked several storefronts, and woke up half of Mitte as they drove south, bypassing the Tiergarten to the west, and then roughly towards the area of Nollendorfplatz. It all may have ended with a crash, since at least a car was found ablaze later on that night."

"What a story! No word from the Berlin police yet, I assume?" Joachim nodded as he took a large gulp from his beer.

"Nope. Well, besides the usual 'investigation pending'. I just wonder if this somehow is connected to Bosch's inquiries?"

"Cheers to that!"

"Cheers."

Hubert Bosch

Previously, on a drab Monday, Berlin, November 29, 1926, inside Mackie MacNamara's temporary office at the Neues Museum.

Mackie looked at Moira and Frau Claire Bonhofer, the housekeeper, or rather manager, of the Alexander Scharff estate which was now the property of Franz Alter. Claire's - Frau Bonhofer's - practical garments for running the mansion had been swapped for a fairly strict and conservative dress, which matched her rather high boots and the severe bun at the back of her head. 

"Moira, this Werner Haupt is a looker, but is he just a schmoozer, a lush, or the real deal? Also, what's his real interest in Egyptology? He claimed to be rekindling is old academic passion for Ancient Egypt, but now he's with Dr. Magnus Hirschfelt. Is that so, Moira?"

"Yes, he is one of the 'Advanced Students' at the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft. I am not really sure about what he studies, though. I have to admit that he is nice to look at, and apparently quite charming at that.."

"His English was really good, with just a hint of a German accent, enough to make his expressions interesting and a tad exotic. Did you notice the quality of his suiit? No Lumpenproletariat here!"

"I have also been told that he's quite active in Berlin student fraternity life, which is suppsedly rather above and beyond a nice evening dinner. He's often surrounded by a posse of younger researchers and students." 

Frau Bonhofer just muttered something under her breath. The sound of horses neighing could be heard from the street.

"Well, I have top admit that this was a nice visit, and his academic merits are impeccable. Should I just keep him at arm's length?"

"Always a good option until you change your mind, dear."

Frau Bonhofer simply frowned.

Werner Haupt.

Dr. Magnus Hirschfeldt

Early in the morning of Freitag, December 3, 1926, comfortably seated in the living room of Franz Alter's mansion in Grünewald after a gruelling night.
"I'm telling you! It was Rosa Klebb and Janis Sarts! I saw them!" Mackie managed to spill out some of the contents of her brandy snifter, Frau Bonhofer frowned.  

"Are you really sure about that?" Franz Alter stretched his unnaturally long and skinny arms wearily out over the coffe table, almost reaching a startled Jules Pollack who was busy mixing cocktails.

"There were at least some similarities" Howard Lake just wanted to cut the conversation short and retire. He was looking forward to an oral exam in German next morning.

"But you told me these guys perished in the jungles of Central America during the MacNamara Expedition?" Felix Jeremiah had seen many strange things together with his compatriots, but some of their tales were still just outlandish.

"My expedition was a great success!" Mackie raised her voice. "The Miskatonic faculty are fools!"

Felix rolled his eyes. "Oh boy, here we go again".