The anti corruption officer Westman went through the files again. A German guy in an upper Foundation position was reason to concern. 1933 was a bad year. Henry Sommergrün was a mystery to him. He worked for the Foundation personnel department. His job was it to compile specialized recovery teams.
He was good at his job, but something was off about him. He just appeared in 1924.
It was like someone had purged him from the records. No family named Sommergrün had a son named Henry.
Sommergrün entered the Foundation through non-recorded-means and had survived 4 of his bosses.

It was an open secret that his teams mostly never recovered all the items that were recoverable, but his teams got the job done with minimal casualties. There were some strange finance actions on his bank accounts. A lot of money going in and out without explanations. It was like someone bigger was behind this simple pencil pusher.
Westman wanted to get the big fish, but what to do when even the small fish proved to be hard to come by? There was nothing wrong with his mission reports. He compiled the work of the field agents into a description of all things recovered and there properties, than handing them of to the containment guys, to write the final files.

The transactions could be easily explained by his hobby. He gambled or so he said and as long as this did not interfered with his work that was not illegal.
To make sure that it would not Westman was here keeping an eye on things. He knew the stories of organized crime that mostly had there hands in the gambling scene.

The mob and anomalies don't mix well and if Sommergrün were to owe someone there money that would put the secrecy of the whole operation into question.

The office was empty as Westman had planed. Sommergrün was like a clock. You could learn his patterns just by looking. It was not certain that good old Henry would have something incriminating in his office, but Westman still had to check. Getting the keys to all locks in this room was part of his job, but here he just had to ask the security guys.

Westman started his investigation with the desk itself. First draw and he already had something. A book detailing streams of money throughout the Foundation. It looked like Sommergrün had made sure that certain people went up the ranks faster.

While turning a page, 3 corns of rice fell to the floor. Westman just ignored them. This book alone would be enough to demote a lot of people including good old Henry, but he had bigger fish to fry. He turned another page and a slew of rice feel to the floor.
"Dam it." Henry had taken measures to check if his book had been opened. Westman ignored the rice. The next book was a shocker. A lot of items, listed with tags like, stolen, sold, for sell, and property of…
Westman dropped the book. The Insurgency.
Names, IDs, locations.

That was not one big fish.
He had caught a swarm.

The open book on the ground had released more rice all over the floor.
Westman would not let this go to waste.
He grabbed the phone on the desk and dialled up his boss.
Nothing. The line was dead. The phone in the hall was the nearest.
Westman stuffed both books in his coat and went to leave.

This was wrong. He could not even touch the door-handle. There was a burning question in his mind that needed an answer now.

20 minutes later Henry Sommergrün entered his office. Officer Westman laid flat on the ground counting rice.
Henry stepped into the office and locked the door behind him and lowered the shutters.

He opened his pocket and throw a new slew of rice onto the floor.
"Did you know how to prevent vampires from leaving there graves?"
Westman did not even looked up.

"Some use peas others use rice."

Sommergrün drew a pistol out of his pocket.
"They wont hear the shot. The shutters are down. You were dead the moment you stepped over this with ill intentions." Sommergrün pointed to a symbol engraved into the doorstep.

"This is your grave, so you cant leave it without knowing how much rice is in here. The handles are silver and blessed by me personally. These are silver bullets."

Sommergrün leaned down and raised his pistol onto one level with Westmans head.
"Lets see if I can hit the same hole a 5th time. Tell the others; Holder sends you."

The bullet past through Westmans head and landed in a small hole in the wall where it joined 4 other silver bullets each of which had passed through a head.
Westman was reduced to ash.

"On the floor are 345686 rice-corns. There are 5795590 more hidden in this room and a bag of 984453 is in the lowest draw. 7125729 in total. I count fast."

Henry cleaned up, restocked his traps and put his books back in order.

He pulled out a pocket watch.
He opened the clock and pulled a little balloon out from between the gears.
While Henry blow up the balloon it took the shape of officer Westman.

"Go tell the ones upstairs you checked me and found nothing illegal or concerning, do one more case and than commit a believable suicide, something where a body dose not need to be found."
The balloon was about to leave the room when Sommergrün handed him the bag with the ash.
"Get ride of that. Put it in the trash were it belongs."

He now had to attend to his duties as O5-H.
To fill 2 positions in the Foundation one needed to follow a strict plan.

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