The morning sun reflected off the glass doors and directly into Ludwig's eyes and he walked with a purpose towards the Police precinct. In both hands, he held a coffee in takeaway cups, the heat of each burning into his palms. Ludwig ignored it, pushing the heavy glass door with his shoulder and making his way directly to his office. To those who waved as he passed, his only sign of acknowledgement was a curt nod. By now the whole department was accustomed to his direct and professional nature. At the front desk, Natalya's emotionless eyes caught his. Good morning. He nodded in return.
More often than you'd expect, people would come into the precinct and cause a scene. Sometimes it felt like they were customer service workers. He's frequently tempted to say, poor Natalya. But she was on the front desk because she always held her ground with an impressive poker face and wasn't intimidated in the slightest.
He moved past the front desk and turned down the hallway leading to the offices. His was likely the cleanest in the building. Ludwig made sure to attain a high standard of cleanliness in his workspace despite the demanding schedule of his job. Being Lead detective kept him on his feet.
His elder brother's office was a different situation. The Police Sergeant's office was directly next to his, and it was as though every paper inside the precinct had been stacked in that room and left overnight with five fans. Okay, that may have been an exaggeration, but it was still pretty bad. Sometimes when his schedule wasn't so demanding he'd hassle his brother to at least sort his desk out.
He pushed down on the handle with his hand still enclosed around the coffee cup and let himself in.
"Guten morgen, Bruder," his eyes scan the room and he's hit with the compulsive urge to scold his brother over the state of it. Every day he has to restrain himself from acting on it. The only reason the department allows it to stay in this state is that, unbelievably, Gilbert is very competent at his job. Also, somehow when asked to find something in his office, he can do so with ease.
Gilbert, reclined further in his office chair than anyone else would be dare attempt, looks up from his phone and places it on the desk carelessly, causing the papers coating his desk to flutter with the movement.
Holding back a sigh, Ludwig instead tightens his jaw and places the takeaway cup beside the abused piece of technology. At least the thick case is sturdy enough, apparently, it had been specifically chosen to withstand such treatment.
"Bruder!" Gilbert replies cheerfully as he takes the cup, "You're a lifesaver."
He throws his head back and attempts to down the coffee all in one go.
Ludwig doesn't respond, opting to take a seat across from his elder brother and sipping on his coffee. Gilbert breaks away from the cup, evidentially failing in downing it all in one go. A patch of the dark liquid now decorating the front of his shirt. He wiped his mouth with the sleeve of his PD jacket.
It was unusual whenever they didn't spend their mornings like this. It was a routine long ingrained into them despite their recent positions in the Police force. For years, as long as Ludwig could remember even, the Beilschmidt brothers shared their mornings together. High school, the academy, and now. They've always been close. Because they've really only had each other.
It had been quiet the past week at work. Ludwig supposed that was a good thing, at least for the community. He had no open cases left to work on and no paperwork left to file. At this rate, he was being paid to sit around at the precinct and be available on short notice.
Gilbert slammed the empty takeaway onto the desk, crushing it with his fist in the process. Ludwig's face doesn't show any of the amusement he feels and watches his brother toss the crushed object past him. He hears it smack into the wall by the door, and fall into the bin he moved there for this specific purpose.
Gilbert pumped his fist in victory. Ludwig didn't roll his eyes fondly.
"Mann, my job has been so boring lately," the chair squeaked as Gilbert slumped back and rubbed at his eyes. "It's just the same things over and over."
Ludwig only nodded in response and leaned back to finish off his coffee. There was no point telling Gilbert that if their job was boring, that was a good thing.
"All I end up with is training the recruits or rules and stuff," the sound of abused metal rung sharply from the chair as Gilbert leaned further back to swing his legs into the desk, "When I get get a case it's about inside the department! Or it's noise complaint this or trespassing that! Or just thinking of policies..."
Again, Ludwig just nodded. Did his brother think this is some sitcom where this kind of work is meant to be fun? Yes, probably. He's admitted several times he finds Ludwig's job to be interesting, always hinting that it must be fun to solve all the tricky crimes. Ludwig would admit there is a certain satisfaction he gains from this job. He would say it's more stressful than fun, however, it can be very intriguing at times.
He sat back and let Gilbert rant. There wasn't much he could say without repeating himself. They had this conversation every so often anyways. He knew his brother would get over it. He crushed his now empty coffee cup and tossed it over his shoulder. Without looking, he heard the cup slide against the plastic bin bag and join the rest of the trash.
Hopefully, being a small department, Gilbert gets some field action. A stakeout or a simple patrol, anything. Before he goes stir crazy. Which would lead to Ludwig going crazy. He changed the subject.
He leaned further back in the chair and crossed his arms.
"Have you finished with the recruits?"
"Yep! All introduced and in the force! I just gotta get through the paperwork for that. Why does everything have to mean paperwork!"
The position of sergeant is basically the equivalent of being a coach. Training, ideas, give detailed thoughts on detailed things. It was doubtful if Gilbert actually looked into the position further than just thinking the title sounded cool and achievable.
"You know the paperwork is necessary. Everyone has to do it."
"But I do waaaay more! Someone who's good at it should do it!"
"I'm not doing it for you. If you have nothing on your schedule then do it today."
"I do have something on my schedule, actually," Gilbert huffed and threw an arm over his head. "Paper. Work."
Ludwig looked to the side and eyed the grey cabinets with papers stacked on them. Only the important stuff had a physical copy, and it seemed everything was important. He would probably end up helping his brother after all. Lucky for him his schedule is looking rather dismal too.
"You wouldn't have so much paperwork if you changed your position." His eyes drifted over to the pale figure in the chair and watched as a hand dragged down Gilbert's face dramatically.
"I can't," Gilbert's eyes were downcast, eyeing the tubby computer sitting on his desk. Ludwig let out a breath of air.
"You mean you won't," he corrected, his voice empty of accusation.
Gilbert wrung his hands in his lap but didn't reply. This had come up only a few times before, but Ludwig could sympathise with how he felt. With high expectations from others and himself, there was no way Gilbert's ego would let him step down from such a high position. Especially when many assumed it was given to him instead of earned. Gilbert thought if he stuck it out and got to a higher position he'd be able to be the leader of something. The one who calls the shots and got the action. In his mind, the only way to go is up. He refuses to comprehend going down. Even if it meant he would be in a position where he'd find his work interesting and engaging.
All Ludwig could do is support his stubborn brother.
It was too early in the week and day to talk about it now, so he decided to drop it. For now.
Before either of them could change the subject, Gilbert's phone chimed obnoxiously with a notification. Ludwig could see the phone had been dropped a few times before and hoped the slivers of cracks stretching from each side of the screen was only on the screen protector.
Gilbert's expression lit up with interest as his eyes scanned over the screen. He hastily pocketed his phone in his baggy police jacket and stood up. Ludwig took this as his cue to stand as well.
"Chief of police would like to see us." He smirked, and Ludwig didn't say anything as he followed Gilbert out the room.
The walk around the precinct was a short one, but that didn't stop Gilbert from gushing about what they could be wanted for, and Ludwig replying with the level of unrealisticness in response. Being selected for a super-secret mission to track down Russian spies, would you believe it, was somehow more realistic than some of the other theories. It would seem these fantastical ideas were bouncing around in Gilbert's head instead of brain cells.
Soon they were looking at the shiny plate labelling the Chief of police's office. Gilbert knocked then immediately pushed the door open.
The profession of law enforcement ran through the Beilschmidt family. They've always had a strong sense of justice and the two brothers have been familiar with the environment since they were eager teenagers. It was only natural - and expected - that they would join law enforcement. It was only a matter of time before their generation rolled around and they enlisted. Their parents were both in the force. Their grandfather was in the force.
"Guten morgen grossvater!" Gilbert bounded up to the Chief of Police's desk and tossed himself into a chair opposite of it. The intimidating man's jaw clenched, likely in resignation, but said nothing. Ludwig closed the door behind him and sat beside Gilbert.
"Any cool or epic jobs for your favourite sergeant, boss?" Gilbert was informal with everyone in the department, but somehow he managed to be the most informal with Chief Beilschmidt. Though it supposedly makes sense. Ludwig was sure he did it on purpose.
Chief Beilschmidt's eyebrows twitched. He took a deep breath and regarded the both of them.
"I'm sure you've noticed the lack of energy these past few weeks." he was a man that got straight to the point. There was no guessing where Ludwig got his efficiency from.
Gilbert nodded eagerly for him to continue.
"We have more than enough staff to cover the few, pressing matters. All open cases are in good hands." He pushed a small thin folder, the only decor object of sort on his polished desk towards Ludwig.
"You're our best detective. As we don't need you for our limited open cases. I want you to manage our neglected cold cases. Hopefully, broaden your expertise. I expect with advances in technology these unsolved cases will finally have answers."
Ludwig took the folder and gave its contents a brief once over. Inside listed the names of a fair amount of cases, and the details of their whereabouts in the system.
"Work through them in any order or way you see fit. Forward any authorisation or permission emails to me and I'll get you clearance." He paused and turned to his eldest grandson. "Sergeant," Gilbert lifted his chin from where it was rested on his hand at the mention of his name, keenly listening.
"You will collaborate with Detective Beilschmidt. I'm sure you have everything you need to complete this and will work well together as a team."
"Yes sir!"
"Great," in the Chief's monotone voice, it almost sounded like sarcasm. "Make me proud."
Taking that as their cue to leave Ludwig stood and gave his grandfather a brief smile and nod before walking away. Gilbert opted for something more subtle and professional, clicking his heels together and swinging his hand into a salute. The Chief had a little amusement in his eyes as he shooed his grandson away.
This time the pair walked to Ludwig's office, Ludwig holding the folder away from Gilbert as he tried to playfully snatch it. They briefly stopped by Gilbert's office so he could drag his battered wheely chair into the other room while claiming superiority over the stiff regular chairs.
Ludwig shut the door behind them and watched as his immature brother pushed his wheely chair beside his brothers, collapse in it, then aggressively pat the empty one beside him. He rolled his eyes and obliged.
He exaggeratedly slapped the folder down in front of Gilbert as he took his seat. Gilbert opened the folder immediately and raked his eyes over the contents. He seemed to deflate a bit.
"Yeah, we can show up the other districts if we solve these before them." He tossed the folder back to Ludwig, clearly doubtful that anything of interest will come from this. "But seriously. Some of these are like, decades-old!" He gestured widely at the folder. "They've had all this time to solve them!"
He leaned back dramatically and sighed.
"I guess it's better than paperwork."
"I'm sure if you get into it you'll find it interesting."
Ludwig rested his hand on the open folder and attempted to appeal to Gilbert. "Most cold cases are homicides. Being decades old, it's unlikely they had the technology necessary to crack them. We'll be able to do it in no time."
He leaned down to boot up his computer and swivelled around to shut the windows blinds. Gilbert hummed in response, looking more convinced. "Besides, if we solve them and you prove yourself competent, there's a chance you might be able to transfer to overseeing homicide cases."
After a moment of his thoughts, Gilbert broke out into a cocky smile.
"My baby brother is the best detective there is! Even if a case hasn't been solved for fifty years I'm sure our big brains can piece it all together!" He punctuated his point by slapping him on the back. "We'll take these cases and we, the underdogs will some them! Those cold killers won't be able to sleep at night now that we're after them."
Ludwig's eyes crinkled in amusement at his response and took a moment to slap his brother's back in return, hearing some choked laughter back in response.
Chief Beilschmidt had said to go through the cases in any order of his choosing. Naturally, with this folder sure to sit on his desk as he worked through solving the cases and crossing them out, he felt obliged to work from the top to bottom. Gilbert, aware of Ludwig's peculiar habits, directed his eyes to the first listing.
'1982. F. Vargas.'