"So, that's your story?"

Dr. Pretorius was not happy. These two idiots had one simple task, to get Dr. Engel safely on a plane to Austria. Instead they came back with some insane tale, and Dr. Engel nowhere to be found. In the past they had never given him cause to doubt their word. And yet...

"That's exactly what happened? You haven't left anything out?"

Septimus Pretorius was in his early sixties, although his age was not obvious and a casual observer might say he was anything from fifty to seventy-five. He was tall and lean, almost to the point of emaciation, with an impressive shock of white hair. Educated at the prestigious Royal Academy of Sciences, Pretorius had developed over his lifetime an almost permanent, pretentious sneer, although he considered it merely indifference. He had little use for the lower classes and generally attempted to minimize his interactions with them. Dieter and Friedrich would prove to be a challenge.

Dieter and Friedrich looked at each other.

"Yes, that was everything," said Dieter.

"Everything," agreed Friedrich.

"Mostly everything."

"Almost, mostly just about everything."

"Maybe not everything."

"Yeah, maybe just one or two, minor things."

"A few, other things. Not much," agreed Dieter.

Dr. Pretorius slapped his face in frustration. "Then perhaps, you should tell me again. And this time, include everything!"

Dieter and Friedrich looked at each other, both hoping the other would start. Finally Friedrich spoke.

"So, I was driving the old lady..."

"Dr. Engel!" suggested Pretorius.

"Dr. Engel," continued Friedrich. "I was driving her to the airport."

"I was in the back with her," Dieter added.

"And then she says, we got time, so let's go to some place for lunch. And we're driving through Bistritz so somebody says we should go to a place, I forget who."

"That was me," Dieter chimed in. "The Golden Crown. It was recommended on Yelp. The restaurant had mostly four or five stars, so it sounded good. But after being there, I thought the service was slow."

"Yeah, the service was slow, wasn't it? Except I didn't really mind that so much. It's more the kind of place where you want to relax, take your time, you know?"

"Well I guess it depends on..."

"Enough!" interrupted Dr. Pretorius. "Write your Yelp reviews on your own time. Tell me what happened next!"

"Oh, okay," said Friedrich, continuing the story. "So I dropped them off in front of the restaurant, and went to park the car."

There was silence for a moment, as everyone looked at Dieter.

"Right! My turn," he realized. "So we go inside and sit down, and in no time this really old guy comes up and starts telling off Dr. Engel."

"So?" questioned Dr. Pretorius. "You are her bodyguard, are you not? Could you not handle one 'old guy'?"

"Oh, I did!" Dieter said. "I handled him. Except, you know, I say he was old, but he wasn't really all that old. He was maybe..." Dieter looked to Friedrich for support.

"Really old," said Friedrich.

"Not so old," Dieter continued. "Like, uh, forty... two? But a really fit forty-two! That's old, right, but he was like..."

"He worked out," suggested Friedrich. "A lot."

"Right!" agreed Dieter. "Really big and muscular, except, like I said, old. Forty-two."

"Just tell me what happened," prompted Dr. Pretorius impatiently.

"Okay, so I stood up to him, told him to back off, leave her alone. Except he's all about, I know you, I'll burn your house down. And really muscular. So then Friedrich arrives, and we make him sit between us and we got him under control."

"And then?" wondered Pretorius.

"Then, he and the old lady just talked," Friedrich told him. "About all kinds of stuff, but he knew all about the project. So finally he threatens her, says he's not gonna let her get away with it, and the old lady tells us to grab him and we should go."

"I got my gun on him," Dieter added to the narrative.

"Did anyone in the restaurant see the gun?" asked Pretorius.

Dieter hesitated before saying, "No?"

"Then we get to the door, and some other old guy is blocking our way!" said Friedrich.

"Not as old as the first old guy," Dieter added helpfully.

"Not as old as forty-two?" questioned Dr. Pretorius. "But still old?"

"Right..." said Dieter hesitantly. "He was, maybe, forty... one?"

"Except this one really was strong," Friedrich added. "And he throws a punch at me. So we start fighting."

"And I got Dr. Engel and the old guy out the back," continued Dieter. "Except the back was full of cops, so we had to go back to the front. And that's when I hit the old guy over the head with my gun."

"Which old guy?" asked Pretorius. "The forty-one year old or the forty-two year old?"

Dieter looked confused for a moment. "The... forty-one year old?"

Dr. Pretorius rolled his eyes. "Continue," he commanded.

"So," continued Friedrich. "We got outside, and headed for the car. Except that's when the old man pulls a gun, gets the drop on us."

"You didn't search him for weapons?" asked Pretorius.

"Why would anyone think somebody that old would have a gun?" asked Dieter.

"Because muscular forty-two year olds sometimes carry guns?" suggested Dr. Pretorius. "Never mind. Just tell me how you got away."

"We ran," Friedrich told him. "Back to the car."

"All three of you?" asked Pretorius. "Dr. Engel, a ninety-five year old woman, ran with you?"

"Not really, because she was dead," said Dieter.

"What?!" screamed Pretorius.

"Ooh, right," said Dieter, suddenly remembering. "That's the part we may have left out the first time."

"She wasn't really dead," said Friedrich, attempting to smooth things over.

"Just dying."

"Mostly dead. Really close."

"Just, dying."

"So is she dead or not?" demanded Dr. Pretorius. Dieter and Friedrich just looked at each other and shrugged.

"Absolutely useless," Dr. Pretorius muttered under his breath. He reached for the phone, and dialled. After a few moments he spoke.

"Yes, Bistritz Emergency Hospital? This is Dr. Septimus Pretorius. I am calling about a patient who may have been admitted recently. The name is Valeria Engel. Yes, I'll wait."

After a short wait the doctor spoke again. "I see. In that case I would like to arrange for pickup of the body."

Another moment passed, then, "What! But that is outrageous. Dr. Engel is an important woman and her body must be released. Yes, well we shall see." The doctor slammed down the receiver.

"Good news?" suggested Dieter.

"Dr. Valeria Engel, the most brilliant mind of the past century, is dead. And with her has died the secret of eternal life," Dr. Pretorius told them.

"Oh. Okay," said Friedrich. "But you're smart, right? You can figure it out."

Pretorius stared at the man. "It took Dr. Engel fifty years to figure out the secret. I am a surgeon. Brilliant, yes, but I do not have fifty years, or seven relevant degrees or the fortune of a billionaire to devote to this project. Without the mind of Valeria Engel, we cannot continue."

"Except she's dead, right?" asked Dieter.

"Yes. Ironically, the secret to eternal life is locked in the brain of a dead woman."

Dr. Pretorius continued to express his thoughts aloud. "Dr. Engel has been to Austria a number of times recently and has personally overseen the preparation of the body. In addition she has discussed with me certain processes, and has left a number of chemical preparations. If we are lucky, and I mean very, very lucky, we may just have everything we need to bring one person back to life. I can arrange transport of the body from Austria. But I need Valeria Engel's brain!"

"So let's get it," suggested Friedrich.

"That is not so easy," said the doctor. "Her body is in the hospital morgue, under police protection until an autopsy can be performed. Except we cannot allow those butchers to touch her magnificent brain! If it is removed for the autopsy they might inflict damage."

"So what can we do?" asked Dieter.

Dr. Pretorius looked thoughtful. "I will arrange for delivery of the Austrian body on the next flight. You two imbeciles need to go to the hospital, find Valeria Engel's body in the morgue, and bring it back here. Unharmed! Do you think you can handle that?"

"Sure thing, doc!" said Friedrich. "Piece of cake."

"Don't call me doc," said Pretorius.

"Oh, one more thing!" said Dieter as if suddenly remembering. "I sort of left my gun where the old lady died. Do you think I could get another?"

_____

+–+–+

(@ @)

  VVV

Roddy didn't want to lie to the police, except he saw little choice. They say that the truth shall set you free, but sometimes the truth is more likely to get you locked up in the loony bin.

If Roddy thought for a moment that the police would listen to his story, that they might just rush off to arrest everyone at the laboratory and kill any monsters they found there, he would be happy to tell them everything. Unfortunately he didn't see that as a viable outcome. No, they were more likely to think he had lost his grasp on reality and then lock him up in an old folks' home for the rest of his life.

Roddy was unsure what his next step should be. Valeria was dead, so it seemed that the crisis might have been averted. Somehow he didn't think so, though. He would have to think carefully on how to proceed.

It was certainly fortunate that the police hadn't bothered to search him. His WWII service revolver would have required some explaining.

Roddy looked up and down the road in front of the police station. Gwen should have been here by now; it was only a five minute drive! Roddy flagged down a taxi to take him home.

A/N: Well, this is the end of Roddy's story (for a while!). So what do you think of Dr. Pretorius? And Dieter and Friedrich sound like they could cause some real trouble! But the real fun is about to begin next week with a chapter titled, "A Night at the Morgue"!