...In the evening twilight hours of Mainz the buildings cast a heavy silent shadow in the cramped downtown. The buildings look darker and unappealing. The best parts of the city are when the sun is able to brighten the white stucco and enhance the characters painted on the walls. Jorge Kessler closed his wine shop around this time in the evening. On this particular day he decided to go for a walk on the riverfront. As he locked the front door to his shop and slowly glanced to his left and right he saw a black Mercedes parked in the next block over with two men in it. In his hand was a local bottle of wine and a brown bag with a pastrami on rye sandwich. The bag also held a nine millimeter pistol.

The waterfront was a short distance from his shop, but this evening he walked several blocks out of his way to see if he was being followed. There were several small shops that he stopped and gazed into their windows at their wares. In the process he looked for the black Mercedes’ reflection in the window. At every twist and turn he saw the car. Just as the park lights came on he reached the Rhine and the Riverboats floating downstream shined like decorated Christmas trees.

An open park bench next to some flowering bushes and a tree caught his eye. His bottle of wine and corkscrew added serenity to his mood. He carefully and meticulously unwrapped his sandwich from the protective cellophane. A deep breath and then a bite of his meal made him momentarily satisfied with this life. The touring boats quietly slipped by him and he wished someone could be with him to share the moment.

Soon a big fat man approached with a little poodle. Jorge saw the man, but he did not pay any attention for he appeared to be just passing by. Suddenly he turned and headed for Jorge. Jorge put his sandwich in his left hand and reached into his brown bag with his right. He put his right hand and bag on his lap then crossed his knees to hide the maneuver. When the man sat down the gun was pointed directly at the fat man.

Jorge glanced carefully at the man. "Now sit, Fluffy, sit. Now I said sit." The man said repeatedly until he finally had to push the dog’s butt down. The dog sat still and the man began to feed him a treat. "Good boy," he said. The man wore a light tan trench coat. His size overwhelmed Jorge’s view. The big man’s gray suit was baggy in the pants and chest. The large black glasses made him appear to have giant eyes. His graying beard was scraggily and made him look fatter.

"Alright, what do you want and who are you?" Jorge casually asked the man.

"What are you talking about, sir," the man responded.

"Well, I’ll tell you. When you sat down on this bench it certainly did not feel as if a very large man sat down here, your clothes are too baggy for a fat man, your face is too thin and the gray hair does not match the age of your eyes."

"Good Jorge! You always were the master of disguise," the man said. "How about pointing that pistol in a different direction?" Jorge took his hand out of the bag and continued to eat his sandwich, but he kept the gun on his lap.

"So how have you been, Klar?"

"Jorge, my old friend, not even a good evening?"

"Klar, I don’t care anymore. I want out. You can keep fighting."

"Jorge, Jorge, Jorge are you dissatisfied with your occupation? Want a change in life? Is this a mid-life crisis thing? Oh but then again it couldn’t be you’re too old for that. What does Jutta think?"

"Jutta wants out too. Both of us are out. No more."

"I find that hard to believe. After all, you are the one who gave Jutta and I both lessons."

"I am old and tired. I spent my life fighting a losing battle. A worthless battle at that. When I look back on it I did not enjoy it. I did not enjoy a lot of things and now I am old and about to die in a few years. I am not going to spend the rest of it behind bars."

"Jorge there is one tiny, little thing you’re forgetting. I own that little shop where you’re working! I moved you in there five months ago with a definite purpose to which you agreed. Do you remember the terms! You said you could talk her into coming back! The two of you were to help me when the time comes! The time is now, so where in the hell is she?"

"I’m telling you she wants out! I tried and she does not want to help with you with anything. You know I am being watched right now by those men up in the black Mercedes over there." Jorge pointed out to the fat man.

The man did not look and continued to ask, "I know about them. I want to know about her. Where is she?" Jorge continued to eat his sandwich. He did his best not to look like he was talking to the man.

"Those fascist pigs killed our people. People that you and I both loved and served with. Where is she? I know she will understand."

Jorge took a long drink of wine and then replied, "They committed suicide a long time ago. And so will you if you do not let go of this hate."

"I cannot believe that she no longer believes. I want her to tell me herself. Where is she?"

"You said the business was mine for all the work that we did together. I’m making money and I’m happy."

"Do you want me to make you very unhappy? Now tell me!"

"Alright! I will tell her. If she tells you that she does not want to get involved then you must leave!"

"I have a job for her and I know she will never decline. Even if she does you owe me for the shop. Remember that! I will be waiting for her at the Martin Luther King club for the U.S. Army enlisted men this Friday night."

"Why there?"

"No one would even suspect such a place. Ok Fluffy let’s go," Klar said as he stood up. He let out a big sigh as if he had trouble standing. Jorge finished his sandwich and took another swallow from his bottle. He watched Klar leave directly toward the men in the Mercedes. He then quickly shoved his trash into the bag, got up and left in the other direction.

Klar walked directly toward the black Mercedes and the parking lot. He pretended to struggle up the moderate incline to the parking spaces. When he reached the vehicle he was huffing and puffing as if exhausted.

"Good evening, gentlemen, such a nice day," he said to the individuals as he passed by panting.

The two men nodded at him and both watched Jorge quickly leave the park.

The driver started the car suspecting Jorge of going somewhere important since he left in such haste. The driver was about to put the auto in reverse when Klar reached the blind spot of the rear view mirror of the Mercedes.

Klar reached into his suit and pulled out a pistol.

The driver started to slowly back up. When the car was abreast of Klar, he looked over at the passenger and the passenger was looking at him.

The poodle tugged at his leash and Klar released him.

He then pulled down his fake beard and smiled at the passenger.

The policeman immediately recognized him and reached for his gun but he was too late.

Klar pointed his pistol at the passenger.

Suddenly, the driver sharply turned the steering wheel and hit the gas.

The car hit fluffy and the dog yelped helplessly.

Upon hearing this Klar shot the passenger in the face and shot the driver three times.

The car continued into reverse and suddenly backed toward the river. The vehicle headed down an embankment and broke through a small barrier. The auto splashed into the river. Klar looked around and in the darkness could see no one. The bodies were now hidden in the depths of the Rhine. Fluffy lay on the pavement whining. Klar picked up the chain with Fluffy still attached and dragged him over to the river’s edge. He flung the dog and chain into the river. Fluffy sank to the bottom. Klar calmly walked away.

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