Chapter 52 The Breaking Point
Dr.Dieter Weigold observed Lucius Malfoy through the blind window. The British dark wizard seemed in a trance-like state. He sat motionlessly on the ugly chair provided by the German Prison Administration and stared holes into the grey concrete wall. He also clutched his left forearm.When they had proceeded him through the habitual legal procedures for admission into preventive detention, Weigold and the medical officer had seen the Dark Mark, which inactive looked like a strange and fading tatoo. Since neither the German counterintelligence wizard nor the doctor were familiar with Voldemort's habit to brandmarl his followers like cattle, neither had commented on the sign of loyalty.
After this procedure a administrative officer had read the man his rights and informed him, that he could either request a lawyer or accept a lawyer assigned by the government in order to prepare his defence. The accusations raised against Lucius were money laundering and tax fraud.
Malfoy had been willing to decline his identity, since Dieter had made it clear that he already knew, whom he had taken in. But after these few sentences, Weigold had been confronted with stubborn silence. Nevertheless, the German counterintelligence wizard had felt a strange kind of tension in the Death Eater: Each and every time he had made the slightest move or come close, Lucius had straightened his back and thrown him a defiant, arrogant glance!
The man was expecting physical violence in retribution for his unwillingness to reply and prepared himself to receive a painful blow!
‚Please, be kind and get me a tray with coffee, milk, sugar, two cups and some edible sandwiches. I am afraid I have to take on this one differently.....' The counterintelligence wizard addressed one of the specialized prison guards who was at his disposal for this specifuc ‚client'.
The man, who had observed the strange behaviour of Malfoy through the blind window for a while and who had been witness to the ducking, difiance and clutching of his left forearm nodded aprehensively and walked away. A German wizard in trouble with the law of the republic would never ever have reacted in the way, this British Death Eater did. A German dark or criminal wizard would have insisted upon calling his lawyer and put up an arrogant face!
‚Well!' Dieter Weigold stated with a small sigh of frustration, placing the warm drinks and some food on the table in front of Lucius.
‚This will lead us nowhere, Mr.Malfoy. You can either co-operate now, putting your trust into the laws of my country and the rights you have here and that were stated to you in detail earlier, or I will request a special permission for an interrogation with Veritasserum under Threat to State Security! Personally I'd prever a civilized conversation between two grown up wizards! You are here under an inculpation for money laundering and tax fraud, Sir. Not under an accusation for murder.......' Dieter lowered his deep voice into an inviting, silky caress.
‚......or for being a Death Eater and follower of the dark wizard known under the pseudonym Lord Voldemort!' He added in a sharper tone.
Malfoy clutched his left forearm even more vigorously then before, bending his head deep down, almost into his lap, as if he were in pain from a demanding calling of his dark master on the other side of the sea. His heart pounded against his ribcase and small dripplings of sweat formed on his front. If ever his master would learn of his failure and his being caught by some German auror who seemed to know already too much, he'd be a dead man........he'd never ever see Narcissa and Draco again, succumbing to the maddening torture of the Dark Mark burning through his flesh into the bones of his arm somewhere in a German prison cell. Even if he'd be willing to trust the honour and correctness of this German wizard not to ‚Crucio' him into any kind of confession............nobody would be able to shield him against the wrath of his master! Voldemort had not only dark powers to call his followers via the Mark. He had also a very special brand of magic to torment them by ways of activating the scar. During the early days of his reign, he had made it a habit to do it and Lucius had experienced the torment regularly. Not even Severus strongest painkilling potions were of any assistance in a case like this, when Voldemort decided to hurt.........
Dieter Weigold shook his head and took a sip of coffee. The man was dead frightened! Not of him, not of the German authorities, not of the legal consequences of tax fraud and money laundering. This was evident! He was frightened of the British dark lord, who was hundreds and hundreds of kilometers away on the other side of the Atlantic and would not cooperate from sheer fear of this man.
‚Why are you clutching to this tatoo that is on your arm?' Weigold asked more from curiosity and to break the silence then out of concern.
He faintly remembered that one of the corpses from the showdown in the Black Forest some fifteen or twenty years ago had had a tatoo, too. But he could not recall if any of the other Death Eaters the hunted British wizard had killed in his last stand had similar tatoos. He did not even consider reviewing the files he still had at the Bundesamt and in his office's safe.
Lucius lifted his head for an instant, fixing Weigold with his cold and piercing bluegrey eyes. Obviously the German auror did not know. He would not tell him either.
His head dropped back on his knees, hidding his face behind a veil of long silverblond hair. They had forced his ‚Glamour Charm' off, while proceeding him through the medical examination. The fexw modifications his taking over the personality of the dead Robert G.Bell were gone. He was at least back to normal.......apart from the grey prisoners' uniform he wore now instead of a muggle suit, trousers and shirt. Malfoy clenched his teeth not to let escape a sigh of despair and frustration: Narcissa and Draco would be at their home on the isle of Anglesey by tomorrow afternoon. They'd be frustrated and troubled not to find him there and not to have even a word of explanation on his whereabouts. Narcissa would be frightened! She knew and she was afraid; afraid of what could happen to Lucius, afraid to lose her life, her love, her husband and the father of her son!
‚Would you allow me to inform my family that I am retained for an unknown amount of time on business abroad?' Lucius muttered almost inaudibly.
It were the first words since he had confirmed to the German auror his identity, date of birth and marital situation.
‚Mister Malfoy, I am afraid that I cannot allow this.' Weigold's voice was calm and polite at the edge of kindness and compassion. He was a tremendously experienced counterintelligence officer and knew how to play a prisoner like a well-tuned violine. He was also a man of patience and determination and today he was determined to break open the shell of fear and defiance of the man in front of him.
Something, an undefined feeling in the guts told him, that it could be useful in a very close future..........from what the French had told him, considering the rumours on Voldemort and his terrorist grouping reactivated and in line with the intelligence the German authorities had themselves..........It was never easy and sometimes anded in deep frustration and utter failure, but if ever he would manage to turn this desperate man who set in front of him clutching his tatoo and worrying about his family...........Weigold gave the faintest of smiles, more to himself and the audience behind the blind mirror then to the bend and broke British dark wizard on the other side of the table...........
‚What I may allow you, Mr.Malfoy' He said with his soft, deep voice that could be so comforting and soothing on occasions ‚is to inform the terrorist Voldemort that for reasons of ‚business' on his behalf you are still retained in Germany for a while......I am willing to give you a chance to buy yourself time, if you are willing to give me........'
Weigold dropped his voice to an even more soft whisper and bent closer to the sunk form of Lucius'......replies to a couple of questions I have concerning the funds and the curious activities on several other bank acounts in France and in the US!'
He did not mention the UK, since he was not informed about what Lucius had been doing over there. For France he knew from the DGSE and General Fillon and for Germany and the US he had seen with his own eyes.
‚If you let my inform ‚Him', you may also give in as to my family, Mr.Weigold. It does not make a difference to you, but it makes a difference to me........' Lucius still maintained his bent down position, hidding his face and features from the German auror. His voice was controlled and hiding all emotions and fear. A chance to delay the Master's wrath was not worth any replies, since he could only delay the torment to start and after a time his fate would catch up with him anyhow.The Dark Mark was the fatality of a Death Eater. But.....to get intelligence through to Narcissa and Draco....and perhaps a warning would be worth his sacrifice! He'd give his life gladly to protect theirs. From the very day he had married Narcissa Black against the strong objections of her and his family out of love and devotion and not for reasons of pureblood politics or a rich dowry, he had known that he would be capable of such a sacrifice! When they had started to date Lucius had already been a follower of Voldemort and was fully aware of the risks and dangers of this choice. It had been at this very moment that he had decided that his personal hapiness....and if it should be for a short amount of time only was worth the risk. Narcissa was the best thing that ever had happened to him. He had been graced with sixteen years of happiness in his couple.......if fate wanted him now to part, he would do so gladly and praise Heaven for the sweet memories with his last dying breath. But to die in peace even the most terrible of deaths he had to be sure that what was most precious to him and even more important that his own life was save and out of ‚His' reach. Should Lucius not return and answer his next call, he could be sure that the Dark One would make his family pay his lack of obedience or failure........
‚I will reply to all of your questions and accept Veritas Serum to prove the truthfulness of my answers, if you allow me to communicate with my family.......without you and your authorities controlling this communication!' Lucius had suddenly straightened up and looked right into Weigold's eyes.
His regard was determined and let the observer understand immediately that he would not discuss this issue.
The German counterintelligence wizard had been observing his prisoner carefully and he had understood clearly, that something with the man was terribly wrong and that it had to be linked with the tatoo he was clutching so desperately. The wrong was potentially so enormous, that for humanity's sake he had to take the risk and allow the contact with his family. Malfoy could not escape in any case. He could neither attempt to his life, since he was and would be under a 24 hours surveillance. He nodded.
‚Mr.Malfoy, I will allow you the contact with your wife and ......a son it is, as I understand. But I impress upon you sincerity! What are you afraid off to gamble so obstinately with me over an accusation on money laundering and tax fraud. This is not the end of the world! You will receive a sentence of about two years and if you behave correctly, should be released after half your term......with as a matter of fact the funds seized by the German authorities.......but we are talking about money......money, not your life or immortal soul!'
Weigold continued to speak in his soft, deep, reassuring and soothing voice. He had the feeling that he was terribly close......just a heartbeat from truth......even without the Veritas Serum, yet another creation of Mr.Malfoy's pressumed partner in crime Prof.Dr.Severus A. Snape.........or was it realy X.X. this unidentified French colleague of his from the DGSE?
Lucius held Weigold's eyes, while his brain worked at speed of lightning. He was weighting his chances and possibilities and what he should trust the German auror with before he brought Veritas Serum. He threw a quick glance on to his left forearm, still covered with the grey sleeve of the prisoner's shirt. He'd start with the worst.......without being forced to do so. A show of good will in order to have a sheet of paper, a pencil and a speedy bird to take his message to Anglesey!
Slowly Lucius unbuttoned the sleeve and rolled it up. Then he laid his brandmarked arm on the table and began to talk.
A crowd had formed already and several policemen in uniform were busy to keep the curious people away from the storage facility.
‚Sir, we have all exits covered now!' One of the uniformed policemen reported to an officer in plain clothes, who spoke into a cellphone. The man nodded absentmindedly, before he snapped into the phone'All units-move in at once.Now.'
Acknowledgments crackled over the police radio in the car.
‚Come on,' he snapped to the uniformed policeman by his side ‚Perhaps the guy has seen something or someone..'‚I do not hope so!'He added to himself, knowing exactly what had been going on in the night in the storage facility in the docklands of Southwark 'I hope not....'
The plain clothes ranker accompanied by the man in uniform walked over to another police car An elderly man in grey trousers and a short sleeved shirt steadied himself against the car, squinting as he looked into the bright morning sun that has just heaved itself about the flat horizon and the black waters of the Thames. It was ten o'clock in the morning but the sun was already burning down on the crowd and himself mercilessly. He had an ashen face and seemingly felt sick.
Cornelius Fudge stood with the crowd and stared at the display of law enforcement officers, medical personel in white blouses and people carrying obviously heavy scientific equipment into the place where he habitually met with Nouredine ben Kad'r.
‚What's going on' He questioned the woman standing close to him and who was gasping wide eyes and curious at two medical personel who pushed between themselves a chariot with a black body bag towards a official vehicule marked as ‚Coroner's'.
She did not turn away her curious, greedy eyes and simply muttered to the unknown man by her side ‚Oh, there's been kind of showdown inside! I have always felt that this bunch was up to no good with this endless coming and going of funny people in their oriental clothes and all these lorries bringing stuff in and out and pretending it was a normal wholesales business. You can never trust these people from Arabia.'
‚North Africa!' Another byestander corrected her.'They were from North Africa.......Algeria if I remember well and they were dealing in foodstuff and fabrics from their country. Perhaps having not paid their bills or dealt in stolen goods or something!'
Another team of medical personel left the storage facility with another trolley and another black body bag towards the Coroner's vehicule in the side street.
Fudge gasped. He had to understand precisely what had been going on inside and why they were bringing out people in these strange black envelopes. Although he had been occasionally exposed to the muggle world, he had never gone deeply into the British system of law enforcement. He met on an annual basis with the Prime Minister of the UK for reasons of courtesy, but apart that mainly kept his own magic world to itself. He decided to leave the people he was standing with and carefully moved closer to the police car where an officer obviously discussed with someone who may have witnessed something. The muggle was ashen faced and the police officer occassionally put his hand on his shoulder to comfort or to reassure.
‚.......we had agreed to met here at ten o'clock as usual and then have coffee together before attending prayer!' The ashen-faced grey haired muggle explained in accent-tainted English.
‚Since the side door was open, I entered without ringing the bell. We have been friends for years. I did it habitually when the delivery gate was not open or when I could not see any of the employees in front of the facility.' He continued. The police officer nodded, while the man in uniform continued to take down notes.
‚So your friend was not with the dead?'
The elderly Algerian shock his head ‚Only his employees.....Fahine, Daoud, the two brothers Akhmed and Tarik.....' He had to stop for a moment and take a deep breath. The memory of the last two named must have been very strong, since the police officer motionned another uniformed collaborater and said calmly ‚Please get us a glass and some water and inform the medical unit that after I have finished with Mr.Oulmi, they better have a look at him.'
Another body bag and another one where pushed towards the Coroner's vehicle. The elderly Algerian took gratefully his sipp of water and continued his story for the police officer.
‚I felt something was wrong, when the telephone rang and nobody would reply. You see, the telephone is in Mr.Ben Kad'r's office and in order to hear it in the whole facility and being able to reply, they have several secondary posts for the same number all around in the building. Habitually there is always someone close to reply, since .......well, normaly a business man cannot afford to lose an order and an affair in these days and Nouredine had the reputation to speedily deliver and many restaurants in London had made it their habit to buy rather from him then from the two other wholesales merchants in the docks.......'
The officer cut the elderly Algerian short in his tale. He was absolutely not interested in what foodstuff the GIA delivered to the London Kebabs in order to keep up a cover of respectability. He was interested in Ben Kad'r and the identities of the people inside the body bags. It had been a while that he had been called upon to clean up a similar mess. Also it was evident that none of the Islamists the coroners were bringing outside had dies a slow and painfull dead, all bodies had been made up to look like maximum bloodshed. The French had been posting a very clear message to the GIA and he would see to it that the journalists who were habitually reporting on crimes and murder in the capital of the UK did not leave out the sliced throats and puddles of blood that had been the view inside the storage facility. He's see to it that the official autopsy reports mentionned multiple stabbing with sharp, pointed objects anbd other details. It was without importance for the audience, that all executed terrorists had met an extremly quick death by expert hands.
While the elderly and tremendously shocked Algerian related how he found the first body in a puddle of blood with his throat sliced from ear to ear, the officer continued his more personal musing. The French had been quick and good. The neighbours during the night had not realized the drama that was unrolling inside the facility. The elderly man was the single ‚witness' and he had only found the bodies hours after the French had been off and away with their prey Ben Kad'r most certainly very much alive and kicking. Since none of their team had turned up at the police speedboat that had been patrolling the Thames that night in order to assist if requested or to take left overs back to a waiting Poseidon further down the Thames, he supposed that their ‚Black Op' had been a sucess through and through. Now it was his duty to leak ‚relevant' information to the press and let them know in a most discret manner who had been behind this mess, without clearly naming his colleagues from the other side of the Channel. They had asked for this in order to get their message over to the whole GIA organisation ‚If you kill ours, we'll kill yours. No mercy can be expected. An eye for an eye! A life for a life! We do not wear gloves and we are even worse bastards then you all together. Wherever you go and hide, we can find you and finish you off.......!'
Fudge listened intently to the story the elderly gentleman related. He tried to absorb all details and keep them in mind. He knew that it would be a very bad moment in his life when he'd be obliged to return to the master and explain to him, what had happened in Southwark and how this event was now uprooting all their plans for the beginning of September. The British Minister of Magic had the strange feeling that his newly found allies for Lord Voldemort's cause were gone forever and that he was back at step one........he'd have to find somebody else, build up trust, talk them into an alliance etc..........if ever he'd live long enough to do it. The master was not reputed to be a forgiving man..........he'd neither forgive something, which was entirely not Cornelius fault. He'd be simply furious that an external and uncontrolable factor had overthrown his plans and he'd take his wrath out on the next best victim. Fudge felt a sting in his heart when the elderly man continued to describe the bloody visions he'd had inside the storage facilities, emphasising the Nouredine Ben Kad'r was not between the death.
The British Minister of Magic could not make up his mind on why his North African ally had been spared or was missing. There were so many possibilities; he'd saved his life and was on the run! His body had been taken by the murderers and disposed of elsewhere! He had killed his people himself for an unknown reason and subsequently had disappeared from the surface of the earth! He had been captured by a player unknown to Fudge and was now spilling out secrets somewhere under muggle torture or magic Veritas Spells............
Fudge gave a deep sigh, when the tenth body bag disappeared in the Coroner's vehicule and the medical personel shout the doors to drive off with their ‚clients'. Apart learning that something terrible had happened, that there were ten dead men and that Nouredine Ben Kad'r himself and probably also ben Kad'r's djhinnij were missing, he had not learned a lot. All he could do, was to wait for the muggle newspapers next day and try to find out from the London Press what the police was willing to release to the general public.........
‚Believe me, Commissioner!' The elderly man said still ashen faced and shaky ‚To me, this does not look like a normal crime, thugs breaking into the storage facility and intending to rob merchandise and perhaps money. I have been living in my own country for most of my life and I have seen my lot of blood and destruction............to me, this looks like a settling of accounts. These poor boys have been killed by professionals, who had no intent to steak whatsoever from my friend Mr. Ben Kad'r. They have come here to put up a demonstration of power and to shook. I'd not be surprised if you'd find out that the Secret Police of my country Algeria had their fingers in this bloodshed. They are unbelieving bastards. They have always been after the men who kept their faith in Allah and not into their god-less government that has betrayed our religion to the Soviet communist regime just in order to make them sell weapons for the Armed Forces and help them keep their dirty hands clutched on all positions of influence and economic outlets.............At home they kill and capture and torture good muslims every day, because they are afraid of the strenghth of our faith and they chase the firmest and most unbending belivers away from the place where we have been born.........'
Fudge closed his eyes for a short moment, trying to absorb this last, highly interesting information. If ever the theory this elderly and shocked Algerian spilled out to the police officer was true..........it may be enough to save himself from a full blow of the master's wrath. He had to find out a bit more for himself and perhaps find friends of Ben Kad'r who were willing and interested to take his place and accept to wag terror on the muggles in exchange for their magic help to settle accounts with the murderers of Southwark. The Minister of Magic decided that he had been around here in this gory place long enough. He'd probably find out more in tomorrow's printed press. Silently he made his way away from the crowd in order to disappear into a discret corner that would allow him to apparate back to his office.
