Daniel Pov Prisoner Of Night And Fog

Chapter 36

Gretchen and spent the rest afternoon at my apartment, listening to her wristwatch hands tick, waiting to leave for her house once the sun goes down, we decided to leave under the cover of darkness.
Finally, it was time for us to leave for the boardinghouse. I had managed to get my hands in a pistol, I didn't want Gretchen to know I had it, so I had hid it in my room, and put it in my inner coat pocket. Gretchen had taken a knife from a drawer and kept it hidden from sight.

We creeped into the back courtyard through an alley on the adjacent street. We watched the lights at the boardinghouse go out, Gretchen adjusted herself, raising from her crouched position, I imagined due to the fairly thin dress she was wearing, the stone ground bit into her knees. We stayed hidden in the shadow of a walnut tree.

We saw a shadow from where I guessed was the kitchen or parlour. The person was clearly male, the guy was in profile, a long narrow nose, broad jaw, I could tell from Gretchens hitched breath, it had to be Reinhard. I moved closer to her, I put my hand on the small of her back "He can't see you, Gretchen" I muttered.
I could she her nod in the shadows. Reinhard opened a door and closed it and started to go upstairs.

We ran forward quickly and quietly. The back door was locked, but after a few turns of Gretchen wrists the door opened.
I looked around the kitchen, I could smell some rotting horse meat, which explains why when Gretchen and I had met I could smell some the slight scent of it, however it was rather light, and not really a bother. The kitchen was dark and empty. Beside what I guessed was the pantry, was a door, probably leading to the cellar. I was right when Gretchen led me there. Gretchen got the matches and a lantern.

Together we moved down the stairs. We were on a packed-dirt floor, I noticed Gretchen had put her hand in her pocket. I held the lantern aloft, the dim light making it hard to see. In the corner, I saw a coal furnace that was unlit. There were vegetable bins lined on the opposite wall, and boarders trunks and boxes in the far corner.

Gretchen went to her mothers trunk and opened it; she went through a jumble of junk: letters, photo albums, books with dried flowers. At the bottom there was a doctors report.
Gretchen lifted it up, the paper was stamped Doktor Bauer Clinic Of Psychoanalytical Treatment 56 Sendlingerasse München, and someone had written 3 October 1923. The date was close to the date of the Putsch.
I brought the lantern down so it was easier to read.

The report stated that Doktor Bauer had seen Reinhard Müller, age 10, on the preceding day. After interviewing the child, and speaking with both parents regarding the child's past behaviour, the doctor wrote, it was his expert opinion that Reinhard Müller displayed the symptoms of a developing psychopath.
I heard Gretchen let out a small cry. I put my hand on her shoulder, if when her brother was 10, he was diagnosed as a developing Psychopath, then what would that mean 8 years later? Not to mention both parents were present, meaning her mother knew about this.

Gretchen shook her head; I light squeezed her shoulder, trying to comfort her. We went back to the report.

It was in the doctor's opinion, that the child had not developed the ability to bond with others during his infant years. Without treatment, such as talk therapy or electric shock therapy, the child's behaviour would worsen. Violent outbursts would increase in frequency. Lack of empathy would grow more pronounced. Without proper intervention, the child would eventually progress from playing tricks on others to brutal forms of retribution.

Gretchens hands were shaking as she folded the paper. Gretchen took a moment to speak "It's almost ten o'clock. In a few minutes, my mother should check the first floor one final time before bed. We can wait for her in the kitchen" Gretchen said, her voice a little shaky.
I kissed her cheek "You aren't alone, not anymore. I'll be with you" I muttered to her.