Lost in Blue

𝕰𝖑𝖋: Turncoat

She shook her head, hands folded in her lap, golden curls bouncing up and down. "No, he said we should still wait. He has to recover a bit before meeting another one like me or else he might get overwhelmed ..."

"Sounds like Arzt. I'm not surprised," he shrugged.

At least that doctor's strict attitude ensured nobody else would be able to interrogate the two victims besides himself – and Dorn only had succeeded in doing so because his superior had pulled some strings. Without Eckert's help he for sure wouldn't have been able to convince Eduard. Hell would have rather frozen over before the physician had let Henning near any of his patients.

"When you do eventually get the chance to meet him, you should talk to him. N seemed like a nice guy. He kind of reminded me of you," he suggested, hoping what he told her would come true as soon as possible.

Maybe letting the two communicate with each other would conjure up memories and hopefully answer pressing questions.

Fräulein tilted her head to the side. "How so?"

Dorn recalled the first encounter with N, how he was wrapped in a blanket and how his royal blue orbs were filled with fear that day.

"Mainly his appearance, but from what I can tell he seems to share some of your personality traits as well. It felt like talking to your male version."

"I take that as a compliment," she retorted, patting her own shoulder in a feigned, complacent manner.

"It was meant as one," he replied with a chuckle.

"Henning?"

"Ja?"

"Thanks for visiting me when you have the time." Fräulein gave him the sweetest, warmest smile he had ever seen in his entire life.

He was a bit taken aback that his heart skipped a beat. The released emotion made him almost feel guilty. Visiting her had become part of his routine, something he had taken delight in doing due to them getting along so well, which was quite rare these days. His visits were long past the point of just being for 'work-related' reasons.

It was self-explanatory to help an acquaintance out, even if it meant providing comfort by solely being present. "Don't mention it."

𝕹 𝕴 𝖃𝕰 𝕿 𝕺 𝕽 𝕰 𝕿𝕰𝖄

After talking to Fräulein for an hour, it was time for the policeman to leave. Closing the door behind him, he headed towards the elevator at a hurried pace.

Automatically, the door opened, but contrary to his expectation, the lift wasn't empty.

Dorn's jaw almost dropped, his eyes widened.

A slender figure, neatly clad in familiar hues of burgundy, faced his way.

"Guten Tag, Dorn," Gessler greeted with a smile, "Didn't expect to meet you here."

'How the hell did he find out so fast?' was the first question flashing through Henning's mind.

Either his adversary lived up to his name and was indeed incredibly skilled at gathering intel or someone Dorn knew had let information slip.

He didn't know which of the two options frightened him more. The possible combination of both sent chills up and down his spine.

To keep his calm, Henning cleared his throat. "Likewise."

The policeman knew exactly why the journalist was here, filling him with a sense of dread. And it appeared the latter just so happened to be able to interpret a slight change of facial expressions correctly.

"Oh, I can see you wondering how I even got permission to go and pay a visit to that Rhine beauty you keep hidden on this floor."

Instead of answering, Dorn chose to remain quiet. Denying it was futile, since his opponent already knew too much. In turn his opposite perceived his silence as a confirmation to his surmise.

Gessler wagged his index finger in the air. "Don't worry. I have something that justifies me visiting this floor."

Henning realized his true intentions. That jerk had only wanted to hear him commit a mistake, to make him look like a fool.

Out of his briefcase, the journalist pulled out a piece of paper – an exception permit, to be precise – to rub it under the policeman's nose.

"You mean to say you have Eduard Arzt's permission?" Dorn asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

As if four-eyes would hand out certificates of exemption as easily as Aspirin pills, let alone to a complete stranger. Dorn contemplated the hand-written letter being a fake.

Gessler laughed outright. "The doctor? As my luck would have it, he's ill today. It's not like he would have given me one, anyway."

With his index finger, he tapped the paper he was holding – exactly three times. "Could you do me a favor? How about you read that signature at the bottom right?"

Dorn's eyes slowly wandered into said direction and in an instant, his face darkened.

Typical of any physician's handwriting, the letters had flourishes and were written too close to each other, a crabbed mess in total. And yet, he had no trouble assigning the signature to the person it belonged to.

M. Schneider.

Dorn boiled with anger. He never would have expected her to stab him in the back.

While the other man left the elevator behind him, its doors closed with a high beep that painfully echoed in the policeman's ears.

In passing, Christian Gessler happily patted Dorn's shoulder once.

"You should really be careful, Dorn. Being on good terms with colleagues is important or you might just get the short end of the stick," he whispered and made his way down the hallway - no doubt towards Fräulein's room.

Dorn exited the hospital, knowing damn well tonight he'd pull an all-nighter. Gessler didn't know he had unleashed a beast.