'The Killing of Gentle People' by Michel Henri (book club books .txt) 📕

replied the Inspector. “And that’s exactly what you are, nothing!”
“Well, that nothing sounded very much like an Ant-Semitic statement to me, Inspector! So tell me, what do you want to do to me then?”
Becky leaned back against the door seductively, ready for what was about to happen.
“What ever it is, make it quick, Inspector! l need to get back to work.”
Becky smiled at the Inspector seductively, as she could hear the officers listening to every word outside the office door.
The Inspector lunged forward at her, towering over her small frame and groping at her ample breasts. Then, loosing control of his senses, he shouted out loud in a very angry voice, into her pretty face:
“Don’t talk to me like that, you dirty filthy Jewish whore!”
At this point Inspector Gustav Droysen, head of forensics, pushed open the office door and walked in with two armed constables.
“Any trouble in here Inspector? Do you need our help with anything?”
Becky Gold was flushed and half disrobed, she covered her body as quickly as possible. Inspector Mercedes turned on Droysen:
“Get out of my office, and take those two idiots with you! This has nothing to do with forensics or with you. So get out! And shut the bloody door.”

Gustav Droysen did not move. Neither did the two armed constables.
“This is a bad moment for you, Inspector Mercedes, a very bad moment!”
“Did you hear me, Droysen? l said get out! Just fuck off!”
“Yes, l heard you, Inspector. But more important, we, these two officers and myself heard you call our colleague, Sergeant Becky Gold, a Jewish whore. That’s what the three of us heard, and so did some of the officers in the booking hall. You have crossed the line this time, Inspector, and l am placing you under arrest. I am about to read you your rights. Understand, sir?”
Gustav turned to his friend and colleague Becky Gold:
“Are you alright, Sergeant Becky Gold? Did Chief Inspector Victor Mercedes hurt you?” Droysen was careful to talk clearly, making sure it was correct.
“No, I’m fine! It’s just my nose and the blood. You came just in time! l thought he was going to kill me after he had raped me.”
The Inspector was now red in the face and about to burst a blood vessel.
“Get out of my office, all of you! Can you hear me? Get out of my office! Just get the hell out of here. I am Chief Inspector Victor Mercedes, and l am in charge of everything that goes on in this building. Do you understand? I am the top man around here. You two officers; arrest Gustav Droysen and Sergeant Becky Gold. They are interfering with an official investigation. Take them down stairs and keep them in the holding cages until l come down to interview them. Do it now immediately!”
Both officers who had charged into the office with Gustav stood looking at the Inspector as if he had gone completely insane.
“Did you two hear my commands, imbeciles? Or is it your wish to be suspended without pay for an undetermined time? Come on! You can choose!”
Gustav quickly took a pair of handcuffs from the back of his belt and slipped them onto the wrists
of the Inspector before he had time to react; his overactive mind was in another place.
“Inspector you are now officially under arrest. Do you understand? We will let Internal Investigations decide what will happen to you. Do you understand what l’m saying, sir?

Inspector Mercedes turned on Droysen:
“I will kill you for this, you Jew-lover! Don’t forget who l am, and who l was during the war. Understand what I’m saying Droysen; you are a dead man! The Third....” he stopped saying the words. “Anyway, we never forget our friends or our enemies. I hope you understand that, you are now a walking dead man.”
The two constables were looking a little bemused at everything that was being said and at what had just happened.
“Please take the Inspector down the stairs to the booking cages. And please treat him with respect. We don’t want him complaining about his treatment at our hands. This is not a death camp! I think we need to get the doctor for you, Becky, and a psychiatric nurse for the Inspector. Someone do that now, please! I am not in charge. But it is urgent, people!”
The Inspector said nothing more. With his head down he slowly walked with the officers through
the booking hall and down the old stone steps to the wire cages used normally for the more violent prisoners and drunks wanting to fight everyone.

The Dumb Cow Wine Bar.
The tram journey didn’t take too long. On the way l tried to tell the young man more details about the relationship between his father and myself, hoping he would at least understand our lives at the death camp and our motives for our actions.
After we got off the tram it was only a short walk before we arrived at the Dumb Cow. I stood for a moment outside the front door, the young man holding my hand as if l was a child.
“What do you want me to do now, Mr. Golden? Do we both go in? Or do l leave you now on your own?”
I pulled my shaking hand out of the young man’s firm grip and moved a pace or two back from the door.
“Look, Master Stein: I have killed my last retribution victim. I promise you it’s all over now! As God is my judge it is over. But l have to go into the wine bar. My gun and its silencer; they are

under the seat l was sitting on when l was arrested and taken to the Police headquarters. I have to retrieve them now if l am going to be able to keep your father out of this mess l have made. So will you help me, this last time?”
“You lead, Mr. Golden! l will follow!”
We both walked into the Dumb Cow. Without looking at the bar l led the way to the table and sat on the chair l used the last time l was in the bar. Yes! l felt the form of the gun and the silencer, and then out of the corner of my eye l spotted a police officer sitting at the bar chatting with the barmaid. The officer was taking notes.
My hands started to shake again and my face started to sweat.
“Do you want a drink?” the young man whispered.
I whispered back, “Yes please! Can l have a brandy? A large one. I have money if you need it.”
As the young man walked to the bar l felt under the cushion, took the pistol out, and pushed it
down my long sock. Then l took out my handkerchief and tied it tightly round my ankle, keeping the gun safely in its place. I then did the same with the silencer, putting that into the other sock. No sooner had l done that the barmaid looked up and in a loud voice said:
“That’s the old man sitting there! Yes, that’s him alright. See his white hair!”
She then stood up and pointed towards me, and the officer approached my table. At the same time the young man came back with the brandy and handed it to me. I took a deep breath and gulped it down in one take, then breathed out.
“When you have finished, sir, l would like a word,” said the officer.
The young man turned from me and started to walk away.
“Just a moment, son. Is this your father?” The boy just shook his head.
“We believe that you are Mr. Abraham Golden. Is that true sir? You were taken into custody in this very wine bar a couple of hours ago and taken to police headquarters. Is that correct, sir?”
“Yes, officer. I am Abraham Golden. But this person is not my son nor in fact a member of my family. He kindly helped me from the tram at the Fiveways Intersection. I do not have a family any more, there is only me.”

“Is that correct, son?”
“Yes sir! l have never met this man before. I met him on the tram. We spoke, and then l helped him to this wine bar. I asked him if he wanted a drink because he looked old and frail. That’s all. But I really don’t know him.”
“That’s sounds fine, son! Sit over there and l will write a short report for you to sign; then you can go on your way. You, Mr. Golden, will have to come back to headquarters with me. And please don’t try running away again! The paper work takes so much time to get through.”
“I promise you, officer.” l replied then added: “would it be possible to get another drink?”
“That’s a no, sir! We need you to have a clear head. There are lots of interesting questions you will need to answer! Come on. Let’s go.”
I took my time standing up in order for my shaking, which was normal, to be a little more conspicuous, just for sympathy.
“You can take your time, Mr. Golden, but you will not get away this time. Be assured of that!”
Pulling my hands behind my back he clamped handcuffs on my wrists.
“I think the Inspector is looking forward to questioning you himself personally.” Then he whispered, “Mercedes doesn’t like Jews!”
He took my arm, then lifted me out of the chair and push-walked with me to the front door of the Dumb Cow.
In one sock l had the pistol, in the other l had the silencer. I shuffled along, taking my time to get through the table and chairs; we shuffled past Master Stein, whom I did not acknowledge. The officer just ignored him. I suppose he didn’t want to do the paper work.
Getting into the Police car was very difficult. Again l took my time, and got into the back seat. The officer sat down by my side and the driver started on his way to the headquarters.
On the journey my mind wondered about my friend Heinz Stein who had assisted me on my mission of retribution, and how we had helped each other stay alive in the death camp. He saved me many times from the monsters, and now l needed to save him from the police. But at the moment l didn’t know how l was going to accomplish it, or even how to go about it. But save him l must!

We arrived at the headquarters and the driver pulled up sharp. He had been driving very fast, with the lights flashing and that terrible alarm sound playing as loud as possible. It was telling everyone who could hear it that l have caught Mr. Abraham Golden. The officer in the back of the car with me turned to face me, saying:
“Don’t move this time, Mr. Golden. Driver, you stay in the car with him!”
Three other officers ran down the stone steps to meet me, standing on guard at the back door of the car. I quickly checked my socks by slowly bending down in a natural movement. Just as l had checked that everything was in order the driver turned round and asked:
“Ok. What are you up to, Mr. Golden?”
“Nothing, driver! l just have a pain in my belly, that’s all.”
“Well, just sit still and don’t move a muscle. Do you hear me? Just don’t move!”
One of the officers standing guard opened the car door and grabbed me:
“Get out of the car, Golden! And don’t take your time