Chapter 1
Notes:
For clarity's sake: I have watched Season 04 Episode 01 - but not Episode 02.
Basically, this is me challenging myself to write a second episode that answers the questions from Episode 1.
Chapter Text
Freud teaches us that… psychological principles… but then again… Experiences of pain… We pretend… early childhood… avoid…
The thought drifted away, back into the foggy subconscious space it had previously inhabited.
Max awoke to a headache and a chest ache, and honestly, the rest of his body ached as well.
He remembered, very vaguely, what had happened.
Investigations, a casino, an abandoned mine, masks, darkness, fog, the sound of a shot, another kind of darkness.
“Doktor Liebermann?”
The voice was distinctly female. Friendly, but distanced, upper-class, relatively young.
A voice he had heard before but not often enough to recognise it immediately.
So, neither Clara nor any member of his family. Which left…
“Oskar?” He cleared his throat to get rid of the hoarseness.
Obviously, her voice was not Oskar’s voice, but maybe she could go fetch him?
They surely had something to discuss regarding the case.
“I was wondering how long it would take you to ask for Inspektor Reinhardt”, the voice commented, “Though I wouldn’t have bet on it being your first question. Interesting.”
Inquisitive, observant, still somewhat distanced.
So, who…?
Belatedly, Max remembered he could open his eyes.
He blinked against the white light of… was that a hospital room?
Well, there had been a shot, and he was in pain, so that might be for the best.
Had he been shot?
He focused on the silhouette that was slowly stepping closer.
Elegant movements, though not in a way that was supposed to draw attention.
“Fräulein Rieger”
He was moderately surprised but not surprised enough to forget his initial question.
“Where is Oskar?”
“I am afraid he was called to the scene of a murder”, she said as she stepped to the foot of the bed.
It was strange to see her in anything other than evening wear, but of course, she wouldn't wear an evening gown during the day. Even the owner of a Palast was not supposed to sport sequins in broad daylight.
Nevertheless, the plainer clothes suited her. Classic cut and apparently of high quality.
Broad daylight…
Max wondered whether it was morning or afternoon.
It had been night when he was shot.
Had he really been shot?
For how long exactly had he been unconscious?
Fräulein Rieger subtly cleared her throat.
Ah, right, he was probably supposed to acknowledge her reply.
What had she been saying?
Oskar was investigating a murder.
“Ah, alright then.”
Max tried to sort his thoughts.
He had to focus.
“And Clara? I mean, Fräulein Weiss, the…“
He realised there had never been proper introductions between the two women.
Should he try to describe her? In her line of work, Fräulein Rieger surely encountered a lot of attractive blondes…
“Oh, your Lady Settler is alright. I believe she went on a work-related outing, seeing as she wasn’t particularly useful here and is not actually your wife.”
Her gaze lingered on his face as if she was looking for a particular reaction.
It sounded plausible enough, he supposed.
Max started to nod and stopped when the headache intensified.
“My parents and sister…”
“… have visited you earlier. They will be back in a few hours.”
He made a noise of confirmation, struggling against the confusion. What was he missing?
“You… were talking of a murder scene?”
“A working-class man got stabbed in a dark alleyway. I am led to believe he was not a particularly nice person.”
“Ah”
She smiled. “Are you not going to ask me why I am here?”
He probably should. But now, he was feeling a bit defiant.
“You are well informed”, Max remarked.
“I am. And I wanted to talk to you.”
„If you’re only here to gloat with the extent of your knowledge-“
Max’s vision blurred, and he forgot what he had been about to say. Something smart, probably.
He closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
“I am not”, Fräulein Rieger said, “Of what use would that be? I am simply playing the odds.”
Max wasn’t sure if he had misheard her. “Why?”
He heard her step even closer. “Are you familiar with the saying >>the house always wins<<, Doktor Liebermann?”
Max furrowed his brow, trying to clear his aching head. “I… What does that…”
“A casino, like the Rieger, sets the rules of every game in a way that gives the house an advantage. Dealer’s luck is a known phenomenon.”
“Well, it has managed to evade me thus far” Max gave her a slight smile.
“You did win quite a lot those two evenings”, she commented matter-of-factly. Something about the way she said it made Max feel like she knew the exact sum and the result of every game he had played.
“But dealer’s luck is a question of probability. The longer you play without truly understanding the rules and the stakes…”
She tilted her head, the elegant line of her neck on full display.
“You are implying this is some kind of a game”, Max prompted.
Fräulein Rieger cast her eyes down, a subtle gesture of acknowledgement he had seen her use before.
“I am implying that you need to be more careful.”
It seemed like an obsolete comment, given that he was currently trapped in a hospital bed.
So, why was she here?
“You really do seem to know a lot”, Max repeated, hoping she might reveal more.
She pushed back her shoulders and turned to leave.
“I will visit you again”, she said, “later on. Do try to get better.”
Max heard her cross the room, open and close the door and walk down the corridor.
The sounds seemed to distort and echo in his aching head.
Somehow, it reminded him of the tunnels under the Casino.
The other masked participants of the secret game he had partaken in down there…
He remembered The Soldier, The Baron, The Actress, and… who else had been there?
Servants, Fräulein Rieger, a dealer.
Dealer’s luck, Fräulein Rieger had said… Had the dealer been lucky that night?
Was it true that he tended to be lucky?
But what qualified as luck in these games?
What had this elusive group been playing for in the nights Max hadn’t been present?
Monetary gain? Property? Learning a secret? Winning a human?
Getting out alive?
His eyes fell shut.
Chapter Text
Oskar’s hands trembled in the pockets of his coat.
The carriage turned a corner and rumbled over rough cobblestones, giving Meier and him a good shake.
Oskar fumbled out yet another coffee bean.
Hopefully, the bitter taste would help keep him in the presence.
He imagined Max eyeing him with mild disapproval. “Oskar! Do you need me to tell you about the psychology of addiction?”
Max Liebermann was a terribly opinionated person.
At times, the young Herr Doktor had been downright annoying.
But now that he had seen Max on the ground, blood staining his white dress shirt right next to that big ugly flower he had pinned to the lapel of his suit jacket…
Oskar hoped Max would get to nag him for many more years.
The doctors had done everything they could to save Max. All that could be done now, they had said, was hoping and praying.
Oskar thought he wasn’t good at either of it.
What he was good at was solving cases.
So, when Meier had told him of a corpse in an alleyway near the Palast Rieger, Oskar had immediately jumped to his feet to join the investigations.
Enough with the sentimentality.
The carriage was slowing down, and Meier stopped slumping. It seemed like they had almost reached the place where the body had been found.
The alleyway was shadowy, grimy and reeked of cheap beer, vomit and death.
At least the latter had probably been caused by the corpse – but even without its presence, it would have been a place to avoid.
Meier discreetly gagged behind his handkerchief.
“Alright”, Oskar said gruffly, mainly to comfort Meier, “Let’s take a look at this”
Meier, whose face was progressively growing more green, grimaced but slowly followed along.
Two policemen were stationed in the alleyway, one on each side, so no passerby could muddle the crime scene.
“The forensic doctor hasn’t arrived yet?”, Oskar asked the one closer to him.
The man nodded.
“But he has been called?”
“He has”, Meier answered faintly.
Oskar huffed.
Well, there was no use in waiting.
He took a sharp glance at the almost sea-sick-looking Meier.
On another occasion, this could have been a learning opportunity, but Oskar did not feel like making it one.
“Meier. You stay with the carriage. Make sure the doctor knows where to go.”
Meier had the good sense to look thankful and say nothing.
Oskar watched him hurry back, handkerchief still pressed to the nose.
Well, Oskar had always liked to work alone.
At least before he had started to work with one arrogant know-it-all called Max…
Oskar came to stand next to the body, careful not to step into a puddle of beer or any shards of glass.
The deceased was a dark-haired man in a collarless, light grey shirt. He was lying face-down in a puddle of beer and blood, and had evidently been stabbed in the back multiple times.
Oskar’s gaze stuck to the blood-soaked fabric.
“It seems the killer got emotional”, he heard Max comment.
Except, it wasn’t really Max; this was just Oskar's own brain trying to mimic him.
He took a closer look at the scene in front of himself.
The dark hair, the blood-soaked fabric, a relatively slender male body, … lying utterly still on the ground…
Max!
What a silly association to make.
This situation had so little in common with… that night.
“Oskar? It almost seems like you are getting emotional, as well”, Max would have remarked mockingly.
Oskar could almost see him, the pale, slender face, the lifted eyebrow, the small, self-satisfied smile, the general air of intellectualism and barely hidden vulnerability.
“Maybe I am”, Oskar mumbled, “You tell me, Doktor Liebermann!”
But of course, Max was not here to tell him anything.
Judging by the smell, the deceased had been at least somewhat drunk.
It probably had not been hard to follow him into the alleyway, sneak up on him, and attack.
He heard someone draw closer.
“Inspektor?”
Oskar hastily turned to face the new arrival.
“Ah, doctor”
He recognised him from previous cases but did not have the slightest idea what he was called. It didn’t really matter as long as the man did his job.
While the doctor did his initial examinations, Oskar walked over to the carriage and Meier.
“So, he has arrived.”
“Obviously.”
At least Meier looked somewhat better.
They went back to waiting silently until the doctor was ready to share his observations.
This time, Meier forced himself to follow Oskar to the body.
It would have been much more impressive if this policeman hadn’t kept making miserable noises.
“A regular knife, the kind one would find in most kitchens.”, the doctor started, “At least five stabs.”
Not particularly helpful, Oskar mused.
He wondered what Max would have made of it.
“Now, if someone would help me turn him on his back…?”
Meier hastily took a big step away.
Oskar sighed and lent a hand.
Because of the alley’s narrowness, they had to push and pull the corpse a fair bit to roll it on its back.
Oskar inhaled deeply – and cursed under his breath.
“It seems he was holding a bottle when he fell”, the doctor continued, “See the cuts and the shards?”
Meier actually whimpered.
“Now, Meier, you better pull yourself together”, Oskar said tersely, “for now, this is your case!”
A bunch of emotions flickered over Meier’s face. None of them seemed positive or even close to optimistic.
“But, Inspektor…?”
Oskar sighed, going back to staring at the deceased’s face,
Filthy, spiked with shards and somewhat beaten up. And still, despite it all, instantly recognisable.
Suddenly, he was feeling incredibly tired.
“He is called Thanhofer. I’ve met him before and… would not be as objective as necessary.”
Especially since Oskar had threatened to kill him the last time they had met…
Thanhofer had deserved it, too.
What kind of a man beats his own wife?
Given that this was a murder investigation, it was probably for the best to keep quiet about that.
Oskar gulped down the descriptions that lay on his tongue and focused on logistics.
“I will talk to the Kommissar so another inspector will take on the case. I could also talk to Therese… That is, Frau Thanhofer. But I suspect the new responsible inspector will want to carry that out himself, just in case.”
He took one last glance at the corpse before striding out of the alley.
And there he had been, thinking that investigating a murder would help him forget about his own life.
“Avoidance”, Oskar’s mental image of Max said gravely.
Oskar shook his head and asked the coachman to drive him to the police station.
Grondfic on Chapter 2 Tue 31 Dec 2024 08:37PM UTC
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The_reading_type_writer on Chapter 2 Wed 01 Jan 2025 08:59PM UTC
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