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Glad to Be of Service

Author: Brightbear
Summary: Wimmer, a mediocre police officer at best, joins the search for a missing Inspector Moser. Set during the episode
'Escape into Death'.
Author's Note: As far as I know, the character Wimmer only appears in the episode
Last Stop Vienna'. For this story, I have used Australian first aid procedures since I have no idea what they do in Austria. Thoughts are in italics (so are Author's notes).
A big thankyou and hugs and kisses to Justina Lui, who was kind enough to Beta and smooth out the rough spots.
Disclaimer: The wonderful series Kommissar Rex was created by Peter Hajek and Peter Moser and belongs to Mungo Films, Sat 1 and many other people who are not me. Unfortunately.

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Officer Erich Wimmer of the Vienna Police Force was late. He was still struggling into his uniform jacket as he jogged up the staircase and bumped into a colleague, but settled for shouting an apology over his shoulder. He usually would have been all stammering words and embarrassed apologies. Not today, because today he was late for a briefing. This was no ordinary briefing either. It had to be the worst possible choice in the history of all police briefings to be late for.
Why? The Crime Squad had called it, which meant that Inspector Richard Moser would be running it. The first time Wimmer had met Moser, the witness Wimmer had been protecting had been murdered. A day or two later (and on the same case, no less) Moser had caught Wimmer sleeping while on a stakeout. Moser, the Crime Squad and the police dog Rex, had an impressive and ever-growing list of solved cases that was fuelling a fine reputation amongst the other police officers.

It wasn't that Wimmer hadn't seen first-hand that Moser was a quick-thinking, intuitive and powerful detective but rather that Wimmer knew first hand that Moser could also be irritable, abrupt and curt with those who even gave the appearance of incompetence. Wimmer knew he wasn’t completely incompetent but in a shining example of Murphy's Law, the worst mistakes of his career were always made in front of Moser. So, although younger colleagues who met Moser eagerly asked Wimmer to recount his experiences, Wimmer couldn't help but regard the Crime Squad’s star detective with a certain amount of extremely nervous fear. And now he was late.

Wimmer was so busy thinking on his fate that he jogged past the correct floor and was forced to turn around and go back down. As he approached the last corridor, he forced himself to break into a jog, determined to arrive breathless as proof of his dedication to duty. The merits of various verbal excuses, from car trouble to late nights, were still being weighed in his head as he entered the briefing room.

His mouth opened to begin the first excuse that had come to mind when he froze. He stood there, still panting, with his mouth open while his mind took time to process the unexpected face before him.
"Well? What are you looking for?“ snapped Inspector Ernst Stockinger. “Why are you standing there, like some kind of fish!"
Half a dozen of Wimmer's colleagues were already seated and staring at the confrontation. Inspector Peter Höllerer stood on the far side of the room, stabbing drawing pins onto a map of Vienna with a little more force than was necessary. Inspector Stockinger stood at the front of the room, looking even more flustered than usual and still waiting for Wimmer to answer.
"Well?" demanded Stockinger.
"Well?" echoed Wimmer weakly.
"Sit!"

It occurred to Wimmer that he should ask about Moser’s whereabouts but Stockinger's angry glare drove compelled him to sit. Confused, Wimmer tried to catch Höllerer's eye. The most office-bound of the Crime Squad, Höllerer always had the most patience for inexperienced officers like himself. Höllerer had finally turned away from the map but he wasn't looking at Wimmer. Instead, he was studying the ground near his feet, eyes averted, jaw clenched.

Wimmer looked sideways at his partner, Andreas Petzl. Petzl raised one eyebrow, wondering at Wimmer’s strange entrance. Wimmer shrugged helplessly.
I’ve already accepted that I become inept around Moser, please don’t let Stockinger start to have the same effect.
Still angry, Stockinger tugged on his jacket and glanced at the officers he’d summoned.
“We have evidence of a professional organ smuggling syndicate in Vienna,” he began harshly. “The victims are illegal Russian immigrants. We suspect they have been using a red van to make exchanges at a car park near Nussdorfer Schleuse.”

Stockinger paused, tight-lipped and almost trembling, to exchange a look with Höllerer, who pinched his lips grimly.
This gesture seemed to restore Stockinger's confidence somewhat and when he resumed speaking, he was much calmer.
“Inspector Moser was trailing a red van when we lost contact with him, half an hour ago.”
Stockinger continued but Wimmer was having trouble understanding the words. Wimmer knew his mouth was open again. Petzl was leaning forward with an expression of professional interest. None of the other officers seemed to think anything else was out of the ordinary but then most of them had not worked with Moser very often.

Inspector Moser had a definite presence that Wimmer had once described to Petzl as ‘loud’. ‘Loud’ people were hard to silence, hard to lose.
Stockinger always worries and frets, Wimmer thought to himself. But if Höllerer’s worried, then something is definitely wrong.
Wimmer shut his mouth again, sorting through the instructions as a detached professional. The criminals were likely to be well organized and armed, possibly with Russian hostages. Inspector Moser was an unknown quantity and could become anything - a hostage, a casualty or unexpected back up.

Without waiting for the customary pause for questions, an impatient Stockinger abruptly broke up the briefing. A grim Höllerer followed. Wimmer tried to smile reassuringly at Höllerer but his only response was a helpless shrug. Wimmer automatically checked his pistol before he moved to join Petzl partner in their patrol car. Petzl was already seated in the passenger seat. Petzl was only a couple of years younger than Wimmer but his inexperience in the field had always made it seem so much more. More often than not, Petzl had been the one to bribe Wimmer with beers for stories about the Crime Squad’s exploits.

How will Petzl take the news his idol has disappeared? He doesn’t seem particularly concerned. Maybe he’s in shock, maybe I am...
“You know where we’re going?” Wimmer asked tightly, shunting aside any other thoughts.
“Head for the highway,” Petzl reassured him. “And good morning to you, too.”
Wimmer shrugged apologetically as he started the engine. Nerves always made him curt.

* * *

The two men didn’t speak until they reached the car park, though with the siren blaring it could hardly be termed a silent drive. The only car to arrive ahead of them was Stockinger’s white, unmarked car. The car park was tucked into the shadow of a massive concrete bridge near the river. Houses were few and far between and the vegetation had run wild. Woodland trees creating a wall around the main road and, where those trees were sparser, the wild grasses could reach up to your thigh. The car park itself was nothing but a large slab of featureless concrete. Wimmer could see why it might have been chosen as a secret meeting place.

Stockinger was muttering irritably to Höllerer as Wimmer and Petzl moved to join them.
“What we really need now is Rex,” Stockinger was saying. “Nobody else keeps a closer eye on Richard Moser.”
“Maybe Richard and Rex are just following a lead. They’ll call us when they’ve finished and Richard will tell you that you worry too much,” ventured Höllerer.
“We should start looking,” said Stockinger, taking a few steps towards the car park.
“We should wait for more men,” corrected Höllerer. “We’ll cover the ground faster that way.”
“We can’t afford to wait.”

Despite Höllerer’s objections, Stockinger had the four of them start a search pattern across the car park. They didn’t get very far before the other police cars arrived and Stockinger called a halt and restarted the search. Höllerer volunteered to run a small-scale search by patrol cars while Stockinger continued to sweep the car park itself. Wimmer couldn’t help but feel flattered and grateful when Höllerer came straight to him for transport. Petzl doesn’t look nearly as happy. But then all he knows is that he’s got to share a car with a senior officer, he doesn’t realise that Höllerer is a good man.

Petzl hesitated a moment, then climbed into the back seat, to leave the front seat free for Höllerer.
“I want you to head down this road in that direction,” Höllerer said, as Wimmer climbed into the drivers seat. “Keep an eye out for anything suspicious and for a blue Alfa Romeo.”
Wimmer tried to do so as he drove slowly down the street, thankful that there wasn’t much traffic at this time of day. His eyes searched amongst the dry, summer grasses alongside the road for anything noteworthy. Beside him, Höllerer was intently doing the same. He wished he could say something to break the silence but he felt the distraction would only annoy the Inspector.

“There,” said Petzl suddenly.
“What is it?” frowned Höllerer, twisting around in his seat to look at Petzl.
“Do you see that?” asked Petzl, uncertainly. “I thought I saw something metal.”
Wimmer slowed the car, turning in the direction Petzl had indicated. Höllerer peered through his glasses, his eyes screwed up with the effort. Wimmer hoped Petzl hadn’t imagined it.

He still hadn’t managed to see anything when Höllerer nodded grimly and got out of the car. Wimmer followed, leaving the patrol car in the middle of the road with its emergency lights on. Petzl fell in behind them as they crossed the road and moved into the trees. A few metres from the edge of the road, hidden out of sight, they found the familiar navy blue Afla Romeo. Höllerer approached the car cautiously, checking the number plate and peering through the windows. The doors were locked and everything seemed in place. They searched the ground surrounding the car but found nothing. When Höllerer was satisfied, he turned to Petzl.
“Wait with the car,” Höllerer told him. “I’ll send a team out to you.”
Petzl almost looked relieved to escape Höllerer’s presence.

Höllerer led Wimmer back to the patrol car on the road, gesturing impatiently for Wimmer to get in.
“Where are we going?” asked Wimmer.
“Back to the car park,” answered Höllerer. “Stocki will want to know.”
Wimmer turned the car around and drove back. Wimmer still had the feeling he ought to say something comforting to the tight-lipped Inspector.
“No signs of forced entry to the car,” he offered.
“No,” agreed Höllerer. ”He could have hidden the car there himself.”

They reached the car park and Wimmer parked the car close to Inspector Stockinger, who was crouching next to an officer from Forensics. Höllerer reluctantly got out of the car and approached Stockinger. They talked quietly, Stockinger pointing to the ground. From his vantage point in the car, Wimmer could just make out a the remains of a bullet. Stockinger nudged the bullet with his pen, and then stood up to talk to Höllerer again. Most of the conversation was too low for Wimmer to hear but he did catch Höllerer swearing.
Stockinger moved towards Wimmer and motioned impatiently for the car’s radio. Wimmer thumbed the radio on and handed the receiver to Stockinger.
“Stockinger here,” said Stockinger, addressing all the patrol cars. “We have Moser’s car. There are signs of a gunfight. He may have been shot. Start a large-scale search.”
He handed the radio back to Wimmer. When Wimmer turned back, Stockinger and Höllerer were looking at each other grimly. Their boss had not left many clues behind.

* * *

Wimmer had guided a forensic team back to where Petzl was waiting with the car. While they examined the car, another team searched the nearby surroundings on foot.
“Stockinger looked worried,” Wimmer remarked as they drove through the countryside.
“Stockinger’s always stressed,” replied Petzl, idly. “He’s as overworked as the rest of us.”
“I meant worried about Moser,” said Wimmer reproachfully.
I know that,” said Petzl calmly.
“Höllerer swore,” added Wimmer.
Out of the corner of his eye, Wimmer saw Petzl squirm uncomfortably in his seat.

Petzl's reply died on his tongue as a large German Shepherd trotted out of the trees that lined the road. Moments later, the dog was followed by a young blonde woman on a bicycle. Wimmer immediately stopped the car.
“Rex!” called Petzl, getting out.
The dog stopped and stared at Petzl curiously. The woman slid off her bike and walked towards the officers, equally as curious as the dog. Wimmer looked intently at the dog. It’s coat seemed too dark and its eyes were the wrong shade of brown.

“Is this your dog?” Wimmer asked her, extending a hand for the dog to sniff.
“Yes, it is,” answered the woman. “Have you found the van yet?”
“The van?” frowned Petzl.
The woman blushed, “I talked to a detective this morning. He said you were looking for suspicious activity. I told him to look out for a red van.”
“Which detective?” Wimmer asked, too quickly.

The woman looked nervous at Wimmer's sudden intense interest, “Dark hair, good looking. He had a German shepherd with him.”
“It’s all right,” Wimmer tried to reassure her, but in his head his own thoughts were racing. “When, and where, did you see this detective last?”
“Three, maybe, four hours ago. We... my dog and I ... were walking by the river.”
Wimmer sighed inwardly. Three or four hours ago, Moser had still been in contact with Stockinger. It was the past half-hour that was a mystery. Wait... by now, Moser had been missing for at least a full hour.

“Thankyou, Miss. If you see anything suspicious or unusual...” began Petzl.
“Of course,” interrupted the woman, relieved the two officers were making their farewells. “If I think of anything, I’ll ring the number on the detective’s card.”
“Might be better if you rang the station,” said Wimmer cautiously, not quite sure how to summon the words for what he knew he should say. “That detective has gone missing.”
There, the words are out. She doesn't look any happier than I did when I heard.
“Oh,” exclaimed the woman, and took another step back. “The station, then.”
They watch her remount her bike and whistle for her dog. Then the two of them set off again, moving parallel to the road.

* * *

Wimmer and Petzl walked back to the car and as they were climbing back in, there was a buzz of voices over the radio.
“... be on the lookout for a green and white ambulance, apparently with Viennese licence plates...” came Stockinger’s distorted voice.
“... we just let one through the south roadblock ...” came the almost instant reply.
“... damn it...well, form another roadblock further down the road ... We‘ll meet you there with back-up...“
Wimmer glanced to Petzl, “Do we have time?”
Petzl frowned, “We’re too far north. By the time we get there, everything will be over.”
Petzl reached for the radio, “Inspector Stockinger, this is car 52.”
“...Yes... what is it? ...”
“Do you want us to stop the search?”
“... no. Inspector Moser contacted us briefly. He is not with the organ traffickers in the ambulance and he probably is injured ... keep looking...”
“Yes, sir,” answered Petzl. “Car 52 out.”

Wimmer and Petzl exchanged grim looks before starting the engine and continuing down the main road. They had just passed through a small cluster of houses when another German shepherd scrambled up to the embankment on the side of the road. As they drove past, the dog barked loudly at them. Wimmer slammed his foot down on the brakes. He leaned out the window and yelled.
"Rex?” he called.
The dog ran up to him, still barking loudly and jumping on his hind legs. This time, the fur was the right colour and the eyes blazed with recognition. Petzl, who'd didn't know Rex as well, looked to Wimmer for confirmation.
“It’s Rex. He'll know where Moser is,” Wimmer told Petzl.
Turning back to the dog, he called, “Rex, do you know where Moser is?”
Rex barked again and set off into the trees.
“Come on,” shouted Wimmer, charging from the car. “We've got to follow him.”

* * *

To Be Continued

Next Chapter

Disclaimer : Kommissar Rex is owned by Mungo film, Tauris film, SAT.1 and ORF and was created by Peter Hajek and Peter Moser. None of the characters, actors or photographs belong to me, unfortunately. I'm just borrowing them, having a bit of fun and then returning them more or less unharmed.