Jörgensen And The Big Crash: Thriller

By Alfred Bekker

Jörgensen And The Big Crash: Thriller

by Alfred Bekker

 

 

Christoph Martens' sister approaches the police department headed by Mr. Bock with her concerns. What she has to report makes the commissioners sit up and take notice. Her brother belongs to a hacker group that is supposed to ensure that there is an energy crash in large parts of Europe. When the commissioners Uwe Jörgensen and Roy Müller want to visit Christoph Martens in his apartment, they arrive too late. Martens lies murdered in the elevator. Now the detective detectives have to do two things: track down the hacker group and its client to prevent the crash and hunt down a murderer.

Alfred Bekker is a well-known author of fantasy novels, thrillers and books for young people. In addition to his major book successes, he has written numerous novels for suspense series such as Ren Dhark, Jerry Cotton, Cotton Reloaded, Kommissar X, John Sinclair, and Jessica Bannister. He has also published under the names Neal Chadwick, Henry Rohmer, Conny Walden, and Janet Farell.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Alfred Bekker
• Release date: Sep 27, 2023
• ISBN: 9798223315339

Alfred Bekker

Alfred Bekker wurde am 27.9.1964 in Borghorst (heute Steinfurt) geboren und wuchs in den münsterländischen Gemeinden Ladbergen und Lengerich auf. 1984 machte er Abitur, leistete danach Zivildienst auf der Pflegestation eines Altenheims und studierte an der Universität Osnabrück für das Lehramt an Grund- und Hauptschulen. Insgesamt 13 Jahre war er danach im Schuldienst tätig, bevor er sich ausschließlich der Schriftstellerei widmete. Schon als Student veröffentlichte Bekker zahlreiche Romane und Kurzgeschichten. Er war Mitautor zugkräftiger Romanserien wie Kommissar X, Jerry Cotton, Rhen Dhark, Bad Earth und Sternenfaust und schrieb eine Reihe von Kriminalromanen. Angeregt durch seine Tätigkeit als Lehrer wandte er sich schließlich auch dem Kinder- und Jugendbuch zu, wo er Buchserien wie 'Tatort Mittelalter', 'Da Vincis Fälle', 'Elbenkinder' und 'Die wilden Orks' entwickelte. Seine Fantasy-Romane um 'Das Reich der Elben', die 'DrachenErde-Saga' und die 'Gorian'-Trilogie machten ihn einem großen Publikum bekannt. Darüber hinaus schreibt er weiterhin Krimis und gemeinsam mit seiner Frau unter dem Pseudonym Conny Walden historische Romane. Einige Gruselromane für Teenager verfasste er unter dem Namen John Devlin. Für Krimis verwendete er auch das Pseudonym Neal Chadwick. Seine Romane erschienen u.a. bei Blanvalet, BVK, Goldmann, Lyx, Schneiderbuch, Arena, dtv, Ueberreuter und Bastei Lübbe und wurden in zahlreiche Sprachen übersetzt.

Book preview

Jörgensen And The Big Crash: Thriller

by Alfred Bekker

––––––––

Christoph Martens' sister approaches the police department headed by Mr. Bock with her concerns. What she has to report makes the commissioners sit up and take notice. Her brother belongs to a hacker group that is supposed to ensure that there is an energy crash in large parts of Europe. When the commissioners Uwe Jörgensen and Roy Müller want to visit Christoph Martens in his apartment, they arrive too late. Martens lies murdered in the elevator. Now the detective detectives have to do two things: track down the hacker group and its client to prevent the crash and hunt down a murderer.

Alfred Bekker is a well-known author of fantasy novels, thrillers and books for young people. In addition to his major book successes, he has written numerous novels for suspense series such as Ren Dhark, Jerry Cotton, Cotton Reloaded, Kommissar X, John Sinclair, and Jessica Bannister. He has also published under the names Neal Chadwick, Henry Rohmer, Conny Walden, and Janet Farell.

1

I'll kill you, said the man sitting across from me in the conference room at Fuhlsbüttel Prison.

Yeah, sure, I said.

Right now, it's a little difficult, but someday, I'll kill you! 

They got the maximum penalty.

I know.

Life imprisonment followed by preventive detention due to special gravity of guilt.

You got me into this, Jörgensen. But I'll get out of here someday. I swear to you.

It doesn't look that way right now.

Not at the moment. But I have plenty of time.

Time you're going to spend in here.

First of all, yes. But my lawyers are good, they'll find a way. Eventually. Doesn't depend on a year. Not even ten. But when I'm out of here, you won't be safe. And I know that from now on you'll think every day that one day I'll be standing on your doorstep, Mr. Jörgensen. But when that time comes, it will be too late... He leaned forward a bit, then continued, If you think I'm going to hire someone to take care of this, you're mistaken.

Like this?

I have enough people who would commit murder for me at any time. All I have to do is snap my fingers. No, they would even just read the desire to see someone dead from my eyes. I wouldn't have to say anything at all.

Rest assured that I will take care of myself, I returned.

As I said, in this respect you need not worry at all. Because this thing with you is something I want to take care of myself.

You don't say...

I want to enjoy the moment when you realize that my prophecy will come true and I will kill you.

I'd like to talk about the criminal network you were a part of.

You want information?

You cut up the daughter of your main drug supplier and sent her to him in pieces, I stated. Somebody is really pissed at you now, which I personally can understand.

It happens - in business.

Only in your kind of business.

What do you want?

If you help me, you may be helping to save your own life.

He laughed.

Can you believe it? he opined.

This is beyond belief

That the guy who put me here in this hole and who I want to kill as soon as I march out of here wants to help me save my life!

What do you say?

Screw you, Jörgensen!

Perhaps you will reconsider. Because unlike you, the one whose daughter you dismembered has no qualms about sending someone to kill you. His people are already sitting here in Fuhlsbüttel. He doesn't even need to send them out. He has probably already given the order.

The conversation is over, Mr. Jörgensen. Then, addressing the guard present, he called out. I want to get out of here!

Not every call goes favorably.

This was an example of how things can sometimes not go so well.

My name is Uwe Jörgensen. I am a chief detective and part of a special department based in Hamburg, which bears the somewhat cumbersome name 'Federal Criminal Investigation Group' and deals primarily with organized crime, terrorism and serial offenders.

The hard cases, that is.

Cases that require additional resources and skills.

Together with my colleague Roy Müller, I do my best to solve crimes and dismantle criminal networks. You can't always win, Detective Director Bock often likes to say. He is the head of our special department. And unfortunately, he is right with this statement.

*

He smiled.

Behavior only, but he smiled.

In his case, it looked more like a predator baring its teeth.

I've heard that you can pull something like this off silently, said the man in the red silk tie. A black rose was embroidered on it. His face was gaunt, his chin shaped like a V. The eyes seemed hawkish and cold. They were as gray as his hair.

He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a brown envelope, which he then handed to the man who had taken a seat next to him on the park bench - somewhere near Landhausrestaurant Meier in the city park.

The other man was wearing a jogging suit and looked a bit sweaty. He carried a knife in his sleeve. It was in a leather sheath that was attached to his forearm with straps. The sunlight reflected in the smoothly polished steel. With a quick movement, the man with the knife had opened the envelope. A few photos were inside.

Consider it done! the man with the knife said. These people are as good as dead already.

That sounds good to me.

Dead, I say. Dead as a doornail.

That's what I wanted to hear, said the man in the red silk tie. His smile looked pained. Things are hurrying, though.

As soon as your deposit is received in my Swiss bank account, I will spring into action, the other replied. He put the knife back into the sheath on his forearm and covered it with the sleeve of his sweatshirt.

I'm counting on you.

You can.

I have one more personal question.

I'd rather not.

Were you really in the Foreign Legion or is that just what they call you - the Legionnaire?

The man in the sunglasses turned over one of the photos. On the back was a name: Christoph Martens. In addition, a few personal details that were essential for the execution of the order. The 'legionnaire' put the photo behind the others and moved on to the next one.

I think I know everything I need to know now. And so do you, by the way.

Just asking, said the man in the red silk tie.

I'm not going to tell you anecdotes from Africa.

As I said, it was just a question.

I can't stand that kind of questioning.

All right. Accepted.

Good.

The 'legionnaire' stood up. He stuffed the envelope into the fanny pack he was carrying. Then he put the earplugs of his iPod back in. The music was so loud that even the person in front of him could hear it: 'Highway to Hell'.

If possible, don't make any more contact with me! the 'legionnaire' said a little louder than was actually necessary, which was probably because he already had the earplugs in. A red-haired teenager, who had just jumped off his skateboard and then picked it up to check something on the wheels, was already looking over at them a bit irritated.

The 'legionnaire' started walking - like someone who had just sat down on the bench for a moment to take a deep breath and recharge his batteries.

The man with the red silk tie looked after him. As he did so, his grip on the automatic in the pocket of his cashmere coat loosened. All the time he had been talking to the man he knew by the alias 'Legionnaire', he had been clutching the gun and even unlocking it. It was simply better not to trust certain people. It was quite possible that the problem solver would end up being the problem himself.

But the man with the silk tie had thought of everything. At least that's what he believed.

2

I pulled the sports car over to the side of the road to pick up Roy at the familiar corner. My colleague stifled a yawn as he joined me in the car.

But I was no different.

"Didn't get much time to sleep