In the Eyes of the Doll – Part III

The former commandant of Stalag 13 lived alone on one of the southernmost streets of Hammelburg, his career having been ruined by Westworth over two years beforehand when the increasingly mad warlock destroyed his own barracks in an inferno, and ultimately led to Ritschmann shooting him on the spot, laying the groundwork for the ghost's return just a few months ago.

After Langenscheidt battled the monstrous half of Westworth's spirit, Ritschmann had a long talk with the remaining "good" spirit, though Ritschmann admitted to Langenscheidt in private that despite saying to Westworth that he forgave him, it was difficult to actually feel like he actually forgave him. Westworth's monster had, after all, killed Ritschmann's wife in his first attempt at revenge.

Langenscheidt hadn't seen Ritschmann since that talk, and in some ways, he was looking forward to seeing the colonel again. I hope he can shed some light on this doll problem. He went up the steps to Ritschmann's home to knock on the door, then waited.

The older man answered the door, looking a bit confused before saying, "Corporal Langenscheidt, what a pleasure it is to see you again."

"Hello, Colonel," Langenscheidt replied. "May we come in? I have some questions."

"'We?'" Ritschmann frowned.

Westworth appeared behind Langenscheidt. "Am I allowed in?"

"Yes, you may come in, Westworth." Ritschmann closed the door after the two were inside. "So, what is it that you would like to ask, Corporal?"

After being seated in Ritschmann's parlor with a cup of tea, Langenscheidt explained the doll situation and the involvement of the SS. Ritschmann listened attentively, though a concerned expression was slowly creeping over his face.

"Cursed dolls, huh," he muttered. "This is the first I am hearing of such a thing."

Langenscheidt's heart sank. "So, can you not help?"

"I can help, but first, there are some things you must know about von Hielscher; I do not think von Hielscher is doing this out of psychopathic malice."

"Even though he tried to drown me?"

"Von Hielscher has probably put you down as just another Nazi. You went to his shop in uniform, correct?"

Langenscheidt nodded. "This is not making sense, though."

"Von Hielscher's shop has been around for decades, and his craftsmanship is renowned worldwide. My cousins all had dolls from him, and none of them came to life. He used to be very active around Christmastime. When the Nazis took power and began shoving their influence into every business they could find, von Hielscher went silent."

"How come he did not leave the country, then?"

Ritschmann shrugged. "I have no idea. This recent development could provide some answers, though. Perhaps he decided to wage his own private war."

"Did anyone know before that he is a warlock?"

"No. If he had been public with that, the SS would have carted him off years ago."

"Is it possible that he has gone mad, though?" Westworth asked.

"Yes, but I would not count on that." Ritschmann took a sip of his tea. "I am not saying what he tried to do to Langenscheidt was right. It was horrendous and largely unforgiveable, but I think handing him over to the SS would be just as bad, if not worse."

"The investigation is already underway. How do we find out the truth?" Langenscheidt asked.

"You will have to approach von Hielscher a second time."

"Surely, he will try to kill me again."

Ritschmann set down his tea. "Well, you did come to the right place if you desire help with that." He stood, gesturing for Langenscheidt and Westworth to follow. They went down the hall to his study, where Ritschmann opened one of the drawers on his desk to reveal several small boxes, packed neatly together. "We cannot make it obvious to either von Hielscher or Kaschel that you have help, so how about…" He took out one of the boxes and after checking its contents, he handed it to Langenscheidt. "A watch. Enchanted to protect against the majority of known spells."

"What about potions? Von Hielscher knocked me out with fumes from a purple potion."

"That may require you to locate a gas mask, or send in Westworth."

"I would, but we still have the problem of the dolls all being cursed. Westworth will not be able to do anything unless we break that curse."

Ritschmann rubbed his chin. "You may have to get some assistance on this. A trained warlock would be able to potentially best von Hielscher in combat—"

"I do have experience in that."

"This is different, and at least you have the choice of not going it alone. I highly suggest you get help, preferably from people you fully trust."


Sergeant Carter and Corporal Newkirk listened with curious expressions on their faces as Langenscheidt, Kielholz, and Westworth explained their predicament behind Barracks Two. When the three finished their story, Carter and Newkirk looked at each other, then Newkirk said, "What do you want us to do?"

"We haven't thought of that yet," Westworth replied. "We need help coming up with a plan in the first place."

"Your first dilemma is going to be getting Kaschel out of the picture so we have room to work," Carter said. "He's not easily fooled." He looked at Langenscheidt. "Kaschel saved your life. I think that would be a perfect distraction."

"How?" Langenscheidt asked.

"Kaschel is… how can I put it? He's pretty tame compared to every other SS officer who's visited Stalag 13. He doesn't lash out all that often, and very, very rarely does he stab people's backs. He's vicious when it comes to his work, but when he's around people he likes and trusts, you're dealing with a completely different person. The tough part is going to be staying on his good side, because once you lose his trust, he has no problem torturing you for information."

"How do I stay on his good side?"

"Don't tell him his work is useless, and don't try to go behind his back—well, technically, you are going to be going behind his back by using him as a distraction, but that's not going to be obvious."

"Based on what you were just telling us, it sounds like Kaschel's already taken a liking to you," Newkirk added. "He feels sorry for you because of your injury."

Langenscheidt sighed. "Just what I need. A big, damn pity party."

"We know it's not what you want, but it could play into our hands pretty well."

"It's the one soft spot on his belly that we have to hit if we're going to have a chance at figuring out what von Hielscher is doing," Carter said. "The second he gets involved, we have to make ourselves scarce faster than you can blink."

Langenscheidt nodded. "So, do I have to make myself look sad and pitiful?"

"No. Start with…" Newkirk paused to think, then snapped his fingers. "Give him a gift. A small gift, but a nice one."

"Like what?"

Newkirk looked at Carter. "What do you think?"

"He likes tea," Carter said. "Any tea, really. Getting tea would be difficult and take a bit too long, but you know what you can always find? Cups. Get a really nice teacup."

"That won't be too hard," Newkirk replied. "I'll go swipe one of Klink's."

"I will pretend I did not hear that," Langenscheidt groaned.

"I could swipe it for you," Westworth said, excitedly.

"Absolutely not," the others said at the same time.


With a swiped teacup wrapped in a box, Langenscheidt was sent on his way to locate Kaschel. He wasn't at all surprised to find the tall SS officer dressed in civilian clothes walking along the street where von Hielscher's shop was located. He would have been unrecognizable were it not for his height and the thoughtful look in his eyes. Langenscheidt approached him nervously, unsure if he would be allowed to interrupt Kaschel. "Good… Good morning, sir," he said, keeping his voice low.

Kaschel motioned for Langenscheidt to stay quiet, then leaned in to whisper, "My staff car is on the next street over. Go there and wait for me if you wish to speak."

Nodding, Langenscheidt did as he was told. When he got to Kaschel's car, he didn't have to wait very long for the officer to return. He gripped the box tightly, not even bothering to attempt a smile at Kaschel.

"Now, what is it you need, Corporal?" Kaschel asked. "I am quite busy today."

"Nothing much, sir," Langenscheidt replied. "I… would like to give you something, as a thank-you for saving my life." He held out the little box.

"That is very kind of you," Kaschel said, gently taking the box. He opened it, and removed the paper inside. "How lovely," he murmured, pulling out the teacup. "Thank you very much for this, Corporal. I will use it often."

Langenscheidt offered a weak smile, thinking of what Carter and Newkirk had suggested. "I suppose I should also thank you for your understanding of my behavior yesterday."

"Oh, there is no need to thank me on that. You still made a valiant attempt to serve, and although you cannot fly, you are doing a wonderful job at keep your prisoners in line." Kaschel studied the teacup for a moment. "Where did you get this?"

"A friend of mine had given it to me a few years ago. I have no room for it."

Kaschel frowned. "The last thing I would do is give away something that a friend acquired for me."

Langenscheidt swallowed, unsure of what to say next.

"Are you not on good terms with this particular friend?"

"Oh, no, not at all. I… thought it was my nicest cup, and… I guess I did not think of what this would mean."

"As much as I appreciate your effort, I am afraid I will have to decline this. I do not think it would be wise to give away something that was originally a gift." Kaschel handed the box back to Langenscheidt.

"You have to keep him distracted for a little while longer," Westworth's voice said in Langenscheidt's head. "Carter and Newkirk are on their way."

Do you have any suggestions? Langenscheidt bit his tongue, trying not to panic.

He got no response.

Damn. Langenscheidt drew in a breath, and tried to think fast. "Sir, I would still like to do something nice for you in exchange for saving my life. Perhaps… Perhaps—"

"I appreciate the thought, Corporal, but I am quite busy at the moment. Another day."

The hissing of air suddenly broke the silence. Kaschel turned to his staff car, seeing it had sunk to one side. The rear left tire was deflated. He cursed aloud when he crouched by it. "How could this have happened?"

"It just deflated on its own?" Langenscheidt crouched next to him.

"It appears so."

Westworth!

"Yes?" Westworth sounded quite pleased with himself.

What are you doing?

"Stalling."

Kaschel rubbed his face, sighing heavily. "There is an automotive shop nearby. If you wish to repay me, stay here and watch my vehicle." He stormed off down the street, leaving a stunned Langenscheidt alone by his car.

As soon as Kaschel had disappeared around the corner, Westworth appeared next to Langenscheidt. "That went better than I expected," the ghost said.

Langenscheidt gave him a dirty look. "I doubt that was necessary."

"Oh, it was necessary," Westworth replied. "We need to give Carter and Newkirk as much time as possible."

"I know, but—"

"'But' nothing. We don't want von Hielscher being handed over to the SS if he's not what we think he is."

"Even so, he tried to drown me. He should be punished."

"Indeed he should, but I don't think giving him to the SS is a fair one. It will make you no better than him. We're better off having him sent to England. Don't prove that you are the monster he thinks you are just because you wear that uniform."

"That is… surprisingly profound coming from you."

Westworth grinned. "I know. I am full of surprises, aren't I?"

Langenscheidt sighed and nodded. "Yes, you are."

"Trust me on this." Westworth's expression sobered, and he gently squeezed Langenscheidt's shoulders. "I don't want you going down the road I went down."

"I do not see how this would—"

"It's revenge. Revenge will not make you a better person. You of all people should know that, given what you went through with me."

Langenscheidt gave another nod. "You have a fair point."

"That was one reason why I was in favor of you dealing with Kaschel instead of going in with Carter and Newkirk. You're in no mindset to confront von Hielscher."

"You are probably right."

"Don't get me wrong, what you feel about von Hielscher is completely normal. He definitely should be punished for what he tried to do to you, but what the SS would have in store for him is entirely unjustified." Westworth glanced in the direction of von Hielscher's shop. "We still need more time. Do you know how to change a tire?"

"No."

"Ask Kaschel to show you." Westworth faded when Kaschel approached, rolling a tire alongside him.

Langenscheidt turned to face the tall officer. "That was fast, sir."

Kaschel didn't respond. "I need to return to my headquarters if I am going to properly arrest von Hielscher. Hold this, please." He passed the tire to Langenscheidt, then opened the trunk of his vehicle, pulling out what he needed to make the change.

Langenscheidt rolled the tire back and forth for a moment. "Sir… I have never changed a tire before. Would you mind giving me a quick demonstration?"

"I can do that." Kaschel started going over how to change a tire, step by step.

Langenscheidt listened attentively, but he asked Kaschel as many questions as he could, trying to stall him. His heart was in his throat, fearing that Kaschel was going to catch on at some point. Miraculously, Kaschel kept answering him, though he muttered at some point, "Your father must have never showed you."

"No, sir. I was conscripted he had the chance to show me," Langenscheidt replied.

"I see." Kaschel sighed as he tightened the bolts on the tire in place. "As much as I appreciate the chance to talk with you, Corporal, I must return to my work."

"You're clear, Langenscheidt. Carter and Newkirk just left the shop," Westworth said.

What's the verdict on von Hielscher? Langenscheidt asked.

"We can discuss this back at camp."

Langenscheidt returned his attention to Kaschel. "I wish you luck, sir."

"Thank you," Kaschel replied. He placed his tools back in the truck of his vehicle. "I wish you luck as well, Corporal." He gave Langenscheidt a small grin before getting in the driver's seat, then motioned for Langenscheidt to get off the road before he headed out.


Newkirk placed a cup of tea in front of Langenscheidt after the group was gathered around the table in Barracks Two. "That mission wasn't nearly as harrowing as I was afraid it would be," he said.

"What happened? I thought it was going to take you a while," Langenscheidt replied, taking a sip of his tea.

"Well, without going into too much detail, von Hielscher didn't do anything because Carter and I weren't in uniform. Long story short, he's been waging his own little war against the Nazis for the last couple of years."

"So…" Langenscheidt's heart sank, "von Hielscher thought I was one of them."

Newkirk nodded.

Carter walked over, holding his own cup of tea. "The spirits possessing the dolls were ones he'd been talking to for quite a while. All of them had one thing in common—they were murdered by either the Gestapo or the SS."

"They agreed to be trapped in the dolls?" Westworth asked.

"Apparently so," Newkirk said. "It was the easiest way to slip them without any suspicion raised."

"Still seems needlessly complicated. A normal ghost can go anywhere without being noticed."

"They can stay undetected until they make the doll 'come to life,'" Carter explained. "It's basically a Trojan horse."

"I suppose that makes sense."

"A few Gestapo officers have already been killed by these spirits. They bought dolls for their children or nieces and then mysteriously 'committed suicide' within a few days of getting them."

A chill went down Langenscheidt's spine. "That could have been Erich."

Next to him, Kielholz squeezed his shoulder. "At least we figured this out first."

"It would have tried to kill him, but I could've stopped it," Westworth said.

"I certainly hope so," Langenscheidt replied, horrified at what could have happened if he had slept through the doll coming to life a few nights ago.

Carter gave him a sympathetic look. "Well, it's over. We don't have to worry about this anymore."

Newkirk nodded in agreement. "Von Hielscher is safe and secure somewhere the Germans won't find him. Kaschel will be on a wild goose chase."

"Good," Langenscheidt said. "Did you… talk to him about me?"

"No. I think we should save that for after the war."

"Seems fair enough." Langenscheidt sighed. "Well, now we have to figure out something else to do for Louisa's birthday. She really wanted that doll."

Kielholz rubbed his chin. "We leave tomorrow. We do not have enough time to get something else."

Newkirk looked over at Westworth. "Your family is used to magic, right, Kielholz?"

"Yes. What are you thinking?"

"Give your niece a chance to play with a ghost."

Westworth's eyes widened. "I am not a toy!"

"No, but Louisa would be fascinated with you," Kielholz said. "Besides, it would be better than leaving you here to be your usual destructive self."

"And it would do you some good to meet new people," Langenscheidt added.

"I suppose," Westworth said. "I'm… I'm glad you trust me to be around your loved ones, Kielholz."

"I know I was upset a few days ago about you intruding on my friendship with Karl, but…" Kielholz shrugged. "You probably saved our lives by pointing out what was off about the spirit in the doll."

Langenscheidt agreed. "Just do us a favor and try not to let that go to your head."

Westworth smirked. "I'm not sure that's a promise I can keep."

"No surprise there."