Chapter 15
Doctor Mabuse's eyes could focus on the control switches of a human mind. A handy gift when it came to gambling in the city's underbelly. Right now those eyes viewed the awe inspiring vista of the Berlin Metropolis. Skyscapers stood high in the firmament as if they conquered heaven in the name of the Kaiser. Bridges between the many building allowed the public to walk or drive through the clouds. Bi-planes flew amidst the architecture along with mini blimps as normal aerial traffic.
Germany's leader had spirited him from the Berlin underworld and given him a special office as part of a League called The Twilight Heroes. The other members of this grouping were off doing other work, his current task was down below.
As soon as his valet showed up bearing an armful of files, Mabuse stepped into the elevator signallng him to follow. As the lift descended he turned to his burdened servant.
"Those are the right files?" He asked.
"Yes, Of course." Said the valet who dared not give any other answer.
The doors opened to a security checkpoint. Berlin prison's warden greeted Dr Mabuse and ushered he and his valet through the guarded entrance with minimal procedure. Dr Mabuse was a career criminal, he figured one day he would end up here, but not like this, as an honoured visitor holding official authority.
"You must understand Herr Mabuse that this is highly irregular." Complained the warden. "What your here to do is what no civilized government should stoop to do."
Mabuse's eyes focused on the scrutinising warden. "This has been authorised by the highest office in response to demanding times. You have an abundance of human resources in your facility. To employ just a few should be revered rather than scorned. Yet we only want one. That's not asking too much is it?"
The warden found his mind hopelessly jumbled; in his confusion he could only find sense in approval, thus taking a more co-operative stand with the mesmerising figure staring at him.
"This way gentlemen." The warden ushered the visitors through a guarded cell block entrance.
A two man cell was the first to be viewed.
The warden introduced the inmates. "May I present Franz Biberkopf and Max Grundeis. Perhaps one of these will suit your purposes."
Mabuse read the two prisoners as they got of their bunks, but he was waiting for an informative report from his valet, who was now flicking furiously through his carried files. The intense stare veered away from the two criminals and took on a scowl at the inept valet. His last cocaine fix was clearly too recent.
Panic overcame the valet as he noticed Mabuse's scornful look which pretty much said. "Swinehund; I'll send you back to the trenches you worthless junky."
The valet stopped his flicking and said."We don't have their files were in the wrong section."
"What are these two?" Mabuse demanded of the warden.
"Franz Biberfopf is a pimp. Max Grundeis is a thief."
"I did not come here to review every felon you have." Yelled Mabuse. "I'm here to see your murderers. Though I see a leaning towards murder for Franz here. I must insist that you take me to your wing that holds murderers. Show me your murderers."
A short walk past the cells ended with the warden ushering the doctor and his aide through a high security checkpoint. On a high platform stood a guillotine waiting for its next use. The valet straightened his collar. A whistling sound filled the foyer as the three went down the ramp to the cell block. The tune was The Hall of the Mountain King.
"Gentlemen you are now in the realm of the murderers." Said the warden. "May I present your first candidate Hans Beckert."
The prisoner ceased his whistling when Mabuse began his intense stare. Hans was stout, nervous and wide eyed, almost bug eyed. This allowed Mabuse to look into his mind and read his perverse soul. His file was soon found by the valet and handed to the doctor.
"It's just as I figured." Said Mabuse. "This man only kills children. Which he does by uncontrollable compulsion. He is of no use to me. I don't think your guillotine will have him; he will plea insanity and hence be institutionalised."
"Hans Morrier." Said the warden as they moved to the next cell.
A promptly found file was handed to the doctor who skimmed through it, deeming a thorough review or intense personal read unnecessary.
Hans Morrier was obviously a nervous wreck. Paranoia was prevalent in his eyes, his skin, his movements and reactions.
"I can't use this man." Announced Mabuse as he handed the file back. "This man should claim shellshock. A compassionate judgment make keep him from your guillotine. Perhaps some other mastermind will employ him. Next."
An olive skinned man with black eyes and curly black hair occupied the adjacent cell,
"Ivan Dragomiloff." Stated the warden.
"A Russian; here in Berlin?" Queried Mabuse as he took the file and perused it.
"His trade takes him to many places. Here is where he got caught."
"An assassin. Excellent." muttered Mabuse who was captivated by the file. "Fluent in English and German. CEO of the Assassination Bureau."
The doctor faced the prisoner with a look of admiration. "You personally eliminated your Board of Directors. Oh! you are good."
Mabuse faced the warden. "This is the one. I'll have him. Send him to the interview room."
Ivan Dragomiloff found himself handcuffed and hobbled to take very short steps to an interview. The room was well lit and the German with a creepy stare motioned him to take a seat.
"You are good at what you do." Said Mabuse. "That's why i am giving you a chance to get out."
"What do I have to do?" Asked Ivan.
"Accept this commission. Then your out. Once it's done your free to do what you like."
A file was handed over to Ivan. Upon opening, a look of recognition met the assassin's face.
"This is a heavy commission. That country's government will comb the entire world looking for me once I do this."
"That guilloine looks sharp doesn't it." Commented Mabuse. "Your execution is in a couple of days. A man of your skills should not fear hostile agents on your trail. If you do Madam Guillotine's kiss perhaps would be preferable?"
"Why do you want this man killed."
"He is an intolerable nuisance."
"From your country's point of view. To his own he is an uncredited master of national security." Ivan closed the file.
"Will you accept the commission; not just for your life; we can throw some money into the pot."
"What is the moral reason for this commission?"
"What?" Yelled Mabuse angrily.
Whistling reverberated from a nearby cell. It was Hans Beckert and his personal rendition of The Hall of the Mountain King again.
"Apart from a measure of sloth and some petty gluttony." Answered Ivan. "This man is without sin. I only kill moral reprobates. This commission cannot be accepted."
Mabuse focused his stare on the assassin's black eyes. They were like pools of dark oil which his mesmerising power had to grope through to find the control dials.
"You will accept this commission." Smoothed out Mabuse.
Ivan should have left the room, but he waited for the doctor to further justify the deal. When he faced Mabuse he found himself locked in a mutual stare that he was somehow unable to turn away from. The intense stare burrowed into his mind. He felt his strong willpower melting away.