Chapter 3 - The Knocks on the Oak Door
The heavy brass knocker on the front door struck the solid oak wood with three thunderous, rhythmic booms.
BANG. BANG. BANG.
The sound echoed through the high-ceilinged foyer like the striking of an executioner's bell.
Lydia jumped in her chair, letting out a sharp, bird-like shriek. Ewald scrambled to his feet, frantically smoothing his rumpled waistcoat, his eyes darting toward the rear terrace French doors like a trapped animal searching for an escape tunnel.
“Who... who is that?” Bianca whispered, her hand clutching the wall for support.
“That would be Herr Inspector Weber,” I said, sitting back down on the sofa with my hands folded neatly over my purse. “Chief Investigator for the Bavarian State Financial Crimes Division. And Frau Becker from the District Insolvency Court.”
“You called the police on your own family?!” Lydia screamed, her painted aristocratic dignity completely dissolving into shrill hysteria. “On Mother’s Day?! Have you no shame, you disgusting peasant?!”
“This isn't my family, Lydia,” I said, my voice dead and cold. “My family is my son. You three are simply parasites who made the fatal mistake of underestimating the woman who raised him.”
Alexander walked past his weeping wife, past his trembling father-in-law, and pulled the front door wide open.
Standing on the front steps, framed by the bright May sunshine, were two plainclothes detectives in dark overcoats, flanked by two uniformed Munich police officers and a woman holding an official state leather ledger.
The lead detective—a tall, silver-haired man with sharp grey eyes—flashed a gold badge and stepped across the threshold.
“Ewald Von Berg?” Inspector Weber asked, his voice flat and authoritative.
Ewald swallowed hard, his face turning the color of wet cement. “Inspector... this is a private family luncheon... there must be some clerical misunderstanding—"
“There is no misunderstanding, Herr Von Berg,” Frau Becker said, stepping into the foyer and opening her ledger. “At eight-thirty this morning, the state prosecutor's office received a comprehensive forensic dossier detailing four years of systematic commercial fraud, unauthorized collateralization of third-party real estate, and seven counts of aggravated identity theft.”
Frau Becker looked up from her ledger, nodding respectfully toward me.
“The evidence submitted by Frau Helga Morgen has been verified by the central banking audit committee. The emergency judicial warrant for your arrest on charges of bankruptcy fraud and grand larceny was signed by Judge Richter forty-five minutes ago.”
Ewald staggered backward, but the two uniformed officers moved with practiced, military speed. Within three seconds, Ewald’s arms were wrenched behind his back, and the heavy chrome handcuffs clicked shut around his wrists with a sharp, sickening double-snap.
“Bianca! Do something!” Ewald howled, struggling against the officers’ grip as they marched him toward the doorway. “Call the attorneys! Call Marcus from the ministry!”
“The ministry has already suspended your corporate credentials, Herr Von Berg,” Inspector Weber replied coldly.
The inspector then turned his gaze toward Bianca, who had collapsed onto her knees against the hallway baseboard, sobbing into her designer sleeves.
“Frau Bianca Morgen,” Inspector Weber continued, pulling a blue legal summons from his interior pocket and dropping it onto the floor beside her knees. “You are formally served as an unindicted co-conspirator in the fraudulent execution of the 2019 forged power of attorney. You are required to surrender your passport to the district court by nine o'clock tomorrow morning and present yourself for formal interrogation. If you attempt to access any joint banking accounts, you will be taken into immediate custody.”
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Lydia dropped into the armchair, covering her face with her trembling, ring-covered hands, wailing like a broken widow as her husband was escorted down the brick walkway toward the waiting police cruiser.
The front door swung shut, leaving Alexander standing in the hallway, clutching the documents that proved his three-year marriage had been nothing more than an elaborate, predatory corporate execution.
