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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 21:39:59 GMT
"Marten?" Marie stepped forward, cautious to give him time to know she was there before coming too close. She knew how the man might feel. He wouldn't appreciate being snuck up on.
"My name is Marie Boogaart. Me and my colleagues were wondering if we could talk to you for a moment?"
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Post by Marten on Jun 3, 2015 21:46:57 GMT
Marten turned toward the three visitors. He did not look well, a gaunt face with sunken cheeks and eyes that looked anxiously around for danger until he realised there were no other people there but the three he had seen. He had the habitual stoop of a tall man who had learned the dangers of standing out.
"What can I do for you?" he asked politely
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 3, 2015 21:49:06 GMT
"We were wondering," Marisa looked to Marie to translate, "We're looking for someone. A german officer. Herman Raubal?"
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Post by Marten on Jun 3, 2015 21:52:29 GMT
"Hermann Raubal?" He looked anxious. "I don't know the name. Was he at Mau... Mau..."
He coughed violently, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Was he at Mauthausen? I didn't learn many names there."
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 22:02:37 GMT
Marie looked at Marissa. She would have eased into it more. Well the dragon was dancing now.
"No. This is not about there." She kept her voice kind, meaning to lead him away from that place in his head. She'd done this before with Wim.
"You witnessed a razzia on a house. Raubal was one of the officers at the raid who disappeared. I'm sorry I have to bring you back to that day, Marten, I really am, but we have to ask you some questions about that time."
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Post by Marten on Jun 3, 2015 22:07:13 GMT
He looked at her blankly and then he laughed harshly.
"Oh that day, yes that day," he said, "the day they kicked down my door and took me away," he said. He picked up the rake again, holding it two handed in front of him almost like a shield.
"Yes, I remember that day. My tenants you see, in the rooms upstairs. They had been hiding some.. someone. And somebody had sold them to the green police. So they came during the razzia and they knew where to look. A dozen men or more. What a day, what a day,"
He laughed again, almost hysterically.
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 22:14:02 GMT
Her hand gripped something inside her coat, but it let go when she saw he wasn't going to attack her with the rake.
She looked at Hugo and Marissa for help. "What a day indeed."
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 3, 2015 22:16:21 GMT
Marisa moved her arm, her wand slid out from her holster and she moved it sideways, casting silently. The spell was meant to calm him down, but not impair his memory. She slid her wand back into place with a soft click.
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Post by Marten on Jun 3, 2015 22:19:59 GMT
Marten swallowed and looked round anxiously, his mood of hysteria vanishing almost at once...
"It pains me to be so weak," he said quietly to them. "Yes. They went into my friends' rooms. They had been hiding someone. It happened. They had a wardrobe against an inner wall. The germans believed it covered a hidden door. It didn't. There was no room beyond, no room,"
There were tears in his eyes.
"I don't understand," he said.
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 22:21:34 GMT
Marie reached a hand out to put it on his shoulder and approached with caution, as you might a hippogriff.
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 3, 2015 22:23:33 GMT
"That's okay, it's hard. Can you tell us what happened?" The wand slid forward again. This was obviously painful. Perhaps it would be better for him if they could get the information without him having to remember remembering it.
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Post by Marten on Jun 3, 2015 22:24:39 GMT
"None of them came out!" Marten said. If it had not been for Marisa's calming spell he would have been screaming by now, as it was he was trembling. "I know what I saw. I know."
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Post by Marisa Blanton on Jun 3, 2015 22:27:05 GMT
"Okay," she mimicked Marie's movement, holding her hand out like she would to a stray animal. "We believe you. Of course we believe you."
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Post by Marie Boogaart on Jun 3, 2015 22:28:42 GMT
"It's okay, Marten. I believe you." She'd guessed at what Marissa was doing. "What did it look like behind the wardrobe? Was there a hole? A door?"
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Post by Marten on Jun 3, 2015 22:33:57 GMT
"No, no hole. No door. I saw!"
He stepped closer, anxious, desperate, and lowered his voice
"the wardrobe was a wardrobe. There was no hole. No door. They went in, and they did not come out."
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