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    The Commissioner And The Rhinoceros
    The Commissioner And The Rhinoceros
    The Commissioner And The Rhinoceros
    Ebook118 pages1 hour

    The Commissioner And The Rhinoceros

    By Alfred Bekker

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    The Commissioner And The Rhinoceros

    A Harry Kubinke Thriller

     

     

    A series of murders is the focus of the team of investigators around Commissioner Kubinke of the Federal Criminal Police Office in Berlin. The victims are criminals themselves and were all involved in a burglary in which a rhino's horn was lost. The investigators are facing a mystery...

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherAlfred Bekker
    Release dateDec 4, 2020
    ISBN9781393231721
    The Commissioner And The Rhinoceros
    Author

    Alfred Bekker

    Alfred Bekker wurde am 27.9.1964 in Borghorst (heute Steinfurt) geboren und wuchs in den münsterländischen Gemeinden Ladbergen und Lengerich auf. 1984 machte er Abitur, leistete danach Zivildienst auf der Pflegestation eines Altenheims und studierte an der Universität Osnabrück für das Lehramt an Grund- und Hauptschulen. Insgesamt 13 Jahre war er danach im Schuldienst tätig, bevor er sich ausschließlich der Schriftstellerei widmete. Schon als Student veröffentlichte Bekker zahlreiche Romane und Kurzgeschichten. Er war Mitautor zugkräftiger Romanserien wie Kommissar X, Jerry Cotton, Rhen Dhark, Bad Earth und Sternenfaust und schrieb eine Reihe von Kriminalromanen. Angeregt durch seine Tätigkeit als Lehrer wandte er sich schließlich auch dem Kinder- und Jugendbuch zu, wo er Buchserien wie 'Tatort Mittelalter', 'Da Vincis Fälle', 'Elbenkinder' und 'Die wilden Orks' entwickelte. Seine Fantasy-Romane um 'Das Reich der Elben', die 'DrachenErde-Saga' und die 'Gorian'-Trilogie machten ihn einem großen Publikum bekannt. Darüber hinaus schreibt er weiterhin Krimis und gemeinsam mit seiner Frau unter dem Pseudonym Conny Walden historische Romane. Einige Gruselromane für Teenager verfasste er unter dem Namen John Devlin. Für Krimis verwendete er auch das Pseudonym Neal Chadwick. Seine Romane erschienen u.a. bei Blanvalet, BVK, Goldmann, Lyx, Schneiderbuch, Arena, dtv, Ueberreuter und Bastei Lübbe und wurden in zahlreiche Sprachen übersetzt.

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      Book preview

      The Commissioner And The Rhinoceros - Alfred Bekker

      Alfred Bekker

      The Commissioner And The Rhinoceros

      A Harry Kubinke Thriller

      ––––––––

      A series of murders is the focus of the team of investigators around Commissioner Kubinke of the Federal Criminal Police Office in Berlin. The victims are criminals themselves and were all involved in a burglary in which a rhino's horn was lost. The investigators are facing a mystery...

      Alfred Bekker is a well-known author of fantasy novels, detective stories and books for young people. In addition to his major book successes, he has written numerous novels for suspense series such as Ren Dhark, Jerry Cotton, Cotton reloaded, Kommissar X, John Sinclair and Jessica Bannister. He has also published under the names Neal Chadwick, Henry Rohmer, Conny Walden, Sidney Gardner, Jack Raymond, Jonas Herlin, Adrian Leschek, John Devlin, Brian Carisi, Robert Gruber and Janet Farell.

      Copyright

      A CassiopeiaPress book: CASSIOPEIAPRESS, UKSAK E-Books, Alfred Bekker, Alfred Bekker presents, Casssiopeia-XXX-press, Alfredbooks, Uksak Special Edition, Cassiopeiapress Extra Edition, Cassiopeiapress/AlfredBooks and BEKKERpublishing are imprints of

      Alfred Bekker

      © Roman by Author /COVER FIRUZ ASKIN

      © of this issue 2019 by AlfredBekker/CassiopeiaPress, Lengerich/Westphalia in arrangement with Edition Bärenklau, edited by Jörg Martin Munsonius.

      The fictitious persons have nothing to do with actually living persons. Identical names are accidental and not intended.

      All rights reserved.

      www.AlfredBekker.de

      postmaster@alfredbekker.de

      Follow on Twitter:

      https://twitter.com/BekkerAlfred

      To the blog of the publishing house click here:

      https://cassiopeia.press

      Everything about fiction!

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      The Commissioner and the Rhinoceros

      by Alfred Bekker

      ––––––––

      Heh, wat is'n ditte! cried the security guard in Berlin dialect. To be able to speak High German now, he was simply too stunned to do so.

      Night watchman in the natural history museum.

      A comparatively unexciting and basically very nerve-racking job, the security guard had thought before he took up this job.

      He had started in the National People's Army of the GDR. There he had been a non-commissioned officer. Then came the turnaround and the NVA had been wound up. Luckily for him, he had found accommodation in the security industry. Anyone who had once guarded the Iron Curtain could also guard company premises, as many West German employers seemed to have thought.

      He had done that for decades.

      He had guarded company premises until the last company he worked for outsourced its production to cheaper Poland. There, of course, there were also less expensive security guards. And apart from that, it was hard for him to imagine any other place to live that was not part of Berlin. He was simply too close to the city for that.

      And he liked to have people around him who spoke like him. At least now and then, because since Berlin had become the capital of the reunited Germany, those who had come to Berlin had become the perceived majority. Perhaps they had been the majority before. Perhaps Berlin had actually been a city of immigrants for centuries, beginning with the Huguenots under the Great Elector, and perhaps that was one of the reasons why such a strange German was spoken here.

      In any case, the security guard recently got the job in the museum and was happy about it.

      The last years up to the retirement a calm ball push.

      That's what he had thought.

      Just like this.

      But he had not expected what would happen that night.

      How could he?

      That someone broke into a bank to crack the safe, he understood.

      He also understood that someone broke into the premises of a high-tech company to steal valuable equipment or to carry out industrial espionage.

      But a museum?

      A museum with stuffed animals and a few old bones that were only interesting for experts?

      Anyone who did something like that had to be stupid.

      As stupid as the members of the gang the security guard had just caught in the criminal work.

      When it turned out later what exactly the gang had taken with them, it seemed clear why they had been in the museum.

      They had broken the horn out of a prepared rhinoceros and took it with them.

      *

      Later the security guard sat opposite his boss.

      Kudos - to stand alone against such a gang... The boss made an appreciative gesture. It takes something.

      For example, lone warrior training with the NVA.

      I see...

      But it's been a while now. Got a few days older already.

      But you caught one of the burglars bleeding.

      He got my elbow in the face. Unfortunately, I couldn't rip his mask off, then the security cameras might have taken a picture of him that could identify him.

      He lost enough blood that a DNA test could be done. And lo and behold, the guy was no stranger!

      Oh, no!

      Just a matter of time before he gets caught, I think.

      That's it.

      Yes, I think so too.

      Does that mean you got the guy's name?

      Yes.

      What's this guy's name? Just in case he ever introduces himself to me!

      His name is Ingo Dahlbach and he shall not be a blank sheet. But he is probably just some henchman for mafia clans. The boss sighed. That they are now even looting the specimens in museums...

      Ivory Mafia. So I've heard. Soon they will break the piano keys out of old grand pianos. Well, I'm just kidding.

      The horn of a rhinoceros consists of keratin, not ivory, said the boss somewhat sourly.

      The guard shrugged. Well, I don't necessarily have to know something like that. After all, I don't run a museum. I just guard it.

      *

      Ingo Dahlbach turned up the collar of his jacket. He had the cell phone on his ear. The nose had started bleeding again. "Shit, this idiot in the museum smashed my nose with his elbow. Yeah, and what am I supposed to do now? Fuck, they're looking for me! What? I'm not supposed to get so upset? I didn't hear you say that, did I? Fuck this shit! All this over a dead rhino.

      One day later Ingo Dahlbach was found in a park.

      Dead.

      With a bullet in the head.

      *

      Access!, the order to deploy came over the headset.

      I ran out of my cover in a crouched position at the corner of the warehouse at the canal port. Rudi followed me. We wore Kevlar vests and jackets that identified us as BKA investigators.

      Look inexpensive.

      But they fulfill their purpose.

      It was a good twenty meters without cover to the berth of the GDANSK, an inland freighter sailing under the Polish flag. I jumped from the quay wall on deck and ran with my service weapon in my fist towards the bridge.

      Behind one of the superstructures a man in a dark leather jacket and woolly hat appeared.

      He pulled up the Uzi type submachine gun, which he carried on a strap over his shoulder.

      He fired instantly.

      Blood-red twitched the muzzle flash from the short run of the Uzi like a flaming dragon's tongue.

      *

      I fired as well, but my bullet went nowhere. At the same time I felt at least half a dozen impacts on my upper body. The bullets were absorbed by the body armour and fortunately the ammunition of an Uzi was relatively small caliber - but still each of these hits was equivalent to a medium fist punch. I staggered back.

      But at the same time, the Uzi gunner was torn to the rear. His leather jacket suddenly had a big hole, grey Kevlar came out from underneath, just like we were wearing. Our colleague Kalle Brandenburg, who had rushed towards the ship together with a dozen other colleagues, had fired his gun the moment the guy started firing at me.

      Only Kalle used a .357 Magnum revolver and although the Uzi shooter was also protected by a bulletproof vest, this shot hit him with the force of a steam hammer. Dazed, he slipped to the floor on the wall of the ship's superstructure while I gasped for air.

      Obviously, I had not gotten anything except for the hits that had landed in my vest.

      Rudi overtook me. Drop your gun, Crime Squad! he shouted.

      The Uzi shooter was still clutching the grip of his weapon, but at the moment he was probably not even able to catch enough air for a clear thought.

      The Uzi shooter hesitated. Then he let go of the gun. Rudi took it away and handcuffed him.

      Our colleagues Kalle Brandenburg, Hansi Morell and Roswitha O'Hara had meanwhile come on board and swarmed out in different directions.

      Are you all right, Harry? Rudi asked.

      Apart from a few bruises and tattered clothes, nothing will remain, I said.

      I set myself in motion again. In the meantime two other colleagues took care of the arrested prisoner.

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