Page 2 - Deutschisch
P. 2

On the second floor he had no option but to
take a pause. Bent over, his hands upon his thighs,
he coughed and rattled. In this position he noticed
the small puddle of water and remainder of drops
on the spacious landing. The flat door was open
and he felt the others watching him, hearing their
unspoken thoughts about soiling the crime scene.

   His spirits lifted somewhat as he remembered an
old joke about a student doctor who smoked. His
dormitory friends continually said: "One of these
days you're going to cough your guts up." He
ignored their jibes and as a gag some of them got
together and laid out all manner of internal organs
on his chest whilst he slept.

   In the morning he was pale when he came
down to breakfast and they asked him what was
wrong. "Guys, you were right," he gasped. "Last
night I coughed my guts up."

   "That's awful," said one.
   "Yeah, but not half as bad as putting them back
in again."
   Hofmann regained himself. His breathing was
down to a laboured wheeze.

   Thiel, his partner, was at his side. "Alles klar

(everything okay), boss?"

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