Previously: Leslie, Jonah, and Reinhardt have a disastrous ice cream trip. Leslie is pulled over. Deputy Ransburg escorts boys home. Heated words are spoken, Grandma cries, and the boys are sent to clean Granddad’s old shop office.
Returning to the farmyard, Noah found Deputy Ransburg still there, along with two more men in dark coats sitting on his porch swing. Eleanor just finished serving them coffee.
“Mr. Brandtmeyer,” Ransburg began, “this is Detective Emerson and Detective Irving.”
Noah stood dumbfounded.
“We won’t take too much of your time, Mr. Brandtmeyer,” Detective Emerson began.
The other turned to Ransburg. “Thank you, Deputy, for the introduction.” The detectives stood quietly staring at him.
“Oh, right,” Ransburg said. “Farewell, Brandtmeyers. It was nice meeting you.” He shook their hands. Irving walked the deputy to his car, made a few inaudible parting remarks, then grabbed a briefcase from his own vehicle.
Detective Emerson waited for Irving to rejoin them on the porch and then addressed Noah. “We have a few questions we would like answers to regarding your recent contact with Albrecht Katterheinrich.”
“Oh,” Noah exhaled, “sorry maybe you’ve got the wrong guy.” He had been holding his breath. “I don’t know anyone by that name.”
Detective Irving proffered a small recording device from his briefcase and played back Noah’s message he left on “Heinrich’s” answering machine. “It appears you do, Mr. Brandtmeyer, and it would go well with you to cooperate.”
“Noah,” Eleanor’s voice was shaky, “what’s this all about?”
“Settle down, settle down everyone.” Noah’s hands rose in defense. “I can explain. That was nothing. I didn’t know his name was Albrecht. I bumped into a man last week who introduced himself as Al. The message on the machine testifies to that.” He nodded to the detectives. “I’m in a lot of debt, farm debt, good honest farm debt, nothing else. Al offered me a side job. The message explains I didn’t take it.”
“We believe you, Mr. Brandtmeyer,” Emerson said. “We checked your background—you’re clean as the driven snow. Take a breath, you look pale—no one is accusing you. We would like to know how Albrecht, or Al as you know him, came to offer you a job. Could you tell us about that?”
“As I said, I met him last week…”
“What day?”
“Friday. At Traders Co. It’s a pawn shop in Saint Marys—big red sign with a steam engine, can’t miss it,” Noah explained.
“And you just bumped into Al? Why were you there?”
Noah looked at his wife then continued, “I asked if they were in the business of buying stuff.”
“This was Al you asked? Al was working there?”
“Not exactly. I’m not explaining this very well.”
“Just take a deep breath and tell us like it happened, like you were telling your—” Emerson had been looking to Eleanor, but suddenly averted his gaze, “like you were telling the story to your dog.”
Noah sat on the porch steps. “Eleanor, could you get me a coffee as well, please?”
With rigid movements, Eleanor stepped inside the house.
“I’m a little embarrassed. I didn’t tell my wife I was planning on selling anything,” Noah explained. “When I asked about this the lady asked for my I.D. She went down a flight of stairs and was gone five minutes, and when she returned, instructed me to go down the stairs. Downstairs is where I made my acquaintance with Al. He was working on a model train, we spoke, and he took a liking to me. He offered me work and said he’d reach out to me for details.”
Eleanor returned to the porch; she handed Noah the coffee. He took a sip.
“Then he reached out to you?” Emerson asked.
“Thanks for the coffee, Eleanor.” Noah said, “And sorry I didn’t tell you all this.” He turned his attention back to Emerson. “Yeah, he sent a man here Saturday morning with a note and phone number to the place where I left the message.” He brought out the slip of paper from his wallet and handed it to Emerson. From the corner of his eye, he saw Eleanor frowning with arms crossed.
Emerson looked to Irving. Both reviewed the note. Irving leaned in and whispered something in Emerson’s ear.
“Right,” Emerson said. “You said Al was working on a model train, and I’m picturing a basement. Can you tell us more about that?”
Noah explained the room, the traders’ guild, and the office space.
“Did it appear to you this was Al’s office?”
“Yes, definitely,” Noah confirmed.
“And not just a random space he was working in? How can you know?”
Noah rubbed his chin in thought. “That’s a good question. I had only assumed but, two reasons: he had on display some sort of device, ‘Panzerfäust’ he called it. He was proud of this item, I could tell—but then again, maybe it wasn’t his? However, there was a filing cabinet and he had the key to the cabinet attached to a ring of keys on his belt.”
“Good work, Mr. Brandtmeyer, good work,” Emerson encouraged. “Now tell us what you know regarding ‘Operation Panzerfäust.’”
Noah thought a moment. “He never mentioned it to me in our conversation. He only asked me to deliver something for him. I assumed ‘Operation Panzerfäust’ was his way of communicating that to me in a note.”
“Now you declined the job, and reason stands Al still needs a man. Would it be possible to suggest a friend for the job?” Emerson asked. Irving had been taking notes up to this point, but stopped and put an arm on Emerson’s shoulder.
“Not that way,” Irving said to Emerson. Then he addressed Noah, “A moment ago you said Al ‘took a liking’ to you. Why do you think that was?”
“Well honestly, I think it’s because of my German heritage.”
Irving nodded thoughtfully. “Interesting.” He handed Emerson the notepad, “Take notes, Emerson. Go on, Noah.” There was a gleam in Irving’s eye. “Tell us more about your time spent with Albrecht.”
Noah shrugged. “Well, he was proud of the ‘Fatherland’ as he put it, offered me a cigarette, and our conversation circled back to selling heirlooms. He had a Nazi artifact, said they fetched high prices. He asked if that was the nature of what I wanted to sell, of course it wasn’t. Again, I didn’t actually have anything to sell.” Noah finished with a glance at Eleanor.
“There we have it, Emerson,” Irving said with a smile. “Have H.Q. scrounge up some 3rd Reich memorabilia. We send in one of our guys looking for a sympathetic buyer,” he clenched his fist, “and the noose tightens.”
Emerson nodded in agreement. “Brilliant, Sir.” Then he looked to Noah. “Mind if I hold on to the note you received, Mr. Brandtmeyer?”
“It’s all yours,” Noah said. “Though do I have a choice?”
“No.” Irving winked. “It’s being confiscated as evidence, but we like to come across as congenial to those who cooperate.”
Emerson stashed the slip of paper along with their other notes into the briefcase. The men stood up to leave.
“That’s it?” Noah asked.
“That’s it,” Emerson said. “Thank you, Eleanor for the cup o’ Joe.” He and Irving set their mugs on the porch rail. They shook hands with the Brandtmeyers and headed to their car.
“One last thing, Mr. and Mrs. Brandtmeyer,” Irving turned and said, “I trust you’re not going back to that shop? You would be hindering an investigation. Am I understood?”
“Yes, Detective. We won’t be going back there,” Noah assured. “And Heinrich’s too?”
Irving, hand on the car latch, paused in thought. Emerson, about to enter the passenger’s seat looked for Irving’s cue.
“On second thought, you drive, Emerson,” Irving said and tossed him the keys. Irving walked back to Noah and stood very close. He spoke slowly, “Mr. Brandtmeyer, let the record show, I never infringed on your freedoms. May I encourage you to cultivate an appetite for something other than bratwurst?” Without another word the detectives left.
Noah and his wife stood on the porch and watched the men leave. Then Eleanor turned on Noah with an icy expression, and he had to retell his conversation with Al all over again.
“And what do we have that you intended to pawn?” Eleanor asked.
“I mean…” Noah stammered. “You heard in the message I left—that I didn’t actually have anything.”
“Hmm,” she let the matter pass, “but you very well may have been stumbling headlong into disaster. We’ve managed to stay afloat, and we’ve always made decisions together. Let’s keep it that way.”
Noah collapsed into the swing and was frowning.
“Let’s keep it that way. Right?” Eleanor reiterated.
“Yes, Eleanor!” He barked. “I don’t need you reprimanding me. Listen, I’m just trying different things. You know I didn’t want to sell Dad’s Wood-Mizer. Look at the storm that’s made with Jonah. When this opportunity with Al came up, how was I supposed to know strings would be attached?”
Eleanor did not respond, but after a moment sat down next to her husband on the swing. Both were quiet for a minute and looked out across the lawn.
“Is Mother alright?” Noah asked.
“She’s alright—went in for a nap.” Eleanor sighed. “I understand you’re looking for opportunities. I didn’t mean it like that, and I think selling the Wood-Mizer was the right thing to do.”
“How are you doing?”
Eleanor shook her head. “Still a bit shaken both our sons ran off without telling us. That’s a first.”
“And not the last time, I’m sure,” Noah mused. “I’ll call Mr. Schreiber—let him know what his daughter was up to today.”
“Speaking of which, what are the boys up to?”
“That could have gone worse,” Reinhardt said.
“It’s not over yet,” Jonah said. “Cleaning up is hardly a punishment.”
“And the Frostop is still on the shelf.”
“Now we can really find the bottle opener.”
“How should we go about cleaning?” Reinhardt asked.
“You hit the cobwebs; I’ll start chucking all those bottles in the can.”
“Are you still angry with Dad?”
“About the Wood-Mizer? Obviously. Not only was that a piece of Granddad, but I could have made that my business, in another year and a half, get my license, tow that sawmill around, make some cash, be my own boss. That’s all gone. A labor for hire is all I can hope to be now.”
Reinhardt wrinkled his forehead. “Why would you do that? We work here all the time.”
“I don’t know if you noticed Reinhardt, but there isn’t any money here. Mom and Dad can’t afford to pay us for our help.”
Reinhardt swirled some cobwebs. “Money for what?”
“Well gee, I don’t know Reinhardt? Ice cream, cotton candy?” Jonah cooled his sarcasm and continued, “A car for one, or better yet, a truck.”
“I thought you wanted a mo-ped?”
“It’s too late for that. After seeing Leslie’s car—sixteen isn’t too far off. Dad says I could probably find paid work on another farm.”
They both cleaned. Hours of spiderweb spinning were destroyed in seconds with the careless swooping of Reinhardt’s broom. Jonah lobbed glass bottles into the trash can, some shattering on impact. It didn’t take long for the entire bin to be filled.
Jonah said, “Maybe I should smash the rest to fit more.” He took the shovel from the corner and spent a few minutes obliterating all the bottles that were in the trash.
“Let me try.” Reinhardt ground the glass to smithereens. Next, they worked on clearing the floor and carried the couch outside.
“Slow, Jonah. It’s heavy.”
“Don’t be so weak,” but Jonah was smiling as they lumbered out the door. “Here just drop it. It’s not a prized piece of carpentry.”
They piled the boxes into a semi-orderly heap against the bare wall opposite the book shelf, swept the whole place down, and mopped the floor.
“We’ll let the floors dry before we put this back inside,” Jonah said as he dropped onto the couch.
His little brother asked, “Should we have carried all the boxes out here too and then mopped the floor?”
“That ship sailed about an hour ago, Reinhardt.”
Reinhardt joined Jonah on the couch. An audible bump came from underneath as an object dislodged from the old piece of furniture. Reinhardt slipped back off and looked under the couch.
“Hey look!” He held up a bottle opener.
“So, it was in the couch after all. Just needed roughed up a bit.”
Together they sat on the couch drinking their Frostop. “I don’t mind it warm,” said Reinhardt.
“Me neither, sometimes I like it this way. I think it’s sweeter.”
“Maybe we’ll find that missing journal of Granddad’s.”
“Hmm, Journal ’86, if there ever was one. I’ve looked all around. Whatever clues it held disappeared with him.”
Reinhardt thought and added hopefully, “We found the bottle opener. That’s something.”
“Genius, Reinhardt, that’s the clue. No doubt Granddad ran off to the Frostop factory.”
The sun was getting well on in the sky.
“Do you think if Dad returns right now, and sees us lying around, he will get mad?” asked Reinhardt.
“No, he shouldn’t anyways; we really did spruce the place up. We’ll tell him we were just about to finish dusting and cleaning the windows.”
When Noah did return, he called Reinhardt to walk with him. “Let’s walk and talk. Jonah, don’t forget to dust the bookshelf and desk while you’re at it.”
Reinhardt and his father took to the lane. “Tell me a little more about today,” Noah said. Reinhardt told his father about helping Grandma, the search for morels, and then the girl showing up. “Had you met her before?”
“I recognized her from the festival; she was with Jonah. Jonah knows her really.”
“Whose idea was it to leave?”
“The girl’s.”
“Why didn’t you tell Grandma your plans?”
“I was going to, but Jonah wanted me to hurry up.”
Noah nodded. “Yes, that’s what I wanted to point out to you. Listen, you don’t need to follow your brother’s orders especially if your gut tells you otherwise. You’re old enough now to make some judgements on your own that may be contrary to that of your brother’s. Do you understand?”
“I think so.”
“If he has an idea, but that idea worries you—talk to me first or in this case Grandma. If for some reason you can’t reach any of us, Pastor John is another great and reliable adult to reach out to.”
“But what if there isn’t time?”
“Time to ask?”
“Yeah.”
“If your brother is creating a sense that the situation does not allow time for good decision making, that should be your first clue.”
Reinhardt nodded. “I see. I understand. That’s what happened today. Sorry, Dad.”
“I forgive you, Son.” Noah gave him a hug. “Oh, and one last thing. Who paid for the ice cream?”
“Jonah.”
“I see,” Noah said. “Thanks, Reinhardt. Now run on up to the house and tell your mother and grandmother you’re sorry. Your poor mother is a little shaken to know both her boys ran off today.”
As Reinhardt began to run, Noah called out, “Oh, and Reinhardt! I love you, Son.”
“I love you too, Dad.”
Really enjoying this story C. M. - great job.