The Russian Donation (Dr. Hoffmann series Book 1)
Doctor Felix Hoffmann’s life is textbook success: a seasoned physician at a Berlin hospital, respected by colleagues, and devoted to his amorous and intelligent girlfriend Celine. It’s a life filled with medical work, televised soccer games, and the chill of German beer.
Yet, when a former patient shows up dead by causes unknown, Hoffmann signs a death certificate that may be his own. Curiosity and sheer medical devotion propel him to investigate. However, his autopsy order goes unfulfilled as the body is cremated and hospital records vanish. Soon, Hoffmann discovers a diagnosis of conspiratorial proportions. The deeper he scans, the darker it gets, until a criminal clue emerges from Russia. Despite adversity, Hoffmann is determined to sleuth through with his own brand of logic and the aid of Celine’s powers of deduction.
plan, which she presented persuasively at the meeting. The staff was speechless; there was not so much as a murmur through the ranks. They were to become partners in the hospital; ownership of the hospital was to pass to them. They themselves would be responsible for the cost-effectiveness of their work and for their salaries. I had run my plan by my closest confidants at the hospital, including Marlies, Heinz Valenta, Nurse Elke, and Frau Krüger. Once they’d bought into the plan, they convinced
for me to find my books. Astrid walked me to the door. She didn’t seem particularly sorry to see me leave. I gave it one last try. “I don’t think it’s right for Klaus to have left you alone so suddenly with all this work to do. Surely he could have stayed for a few days.” Astrid didn’t answer; we stood in the doorway for a moment in silence. “Do you want to make things difficult for us, Felix?” “What makes you say that?” “Klaus told me that you and he had a fight recently. Are you jealous
only was a mass migration triggered but also mass hysteria, which had cost the lives of many patients who were basically curable. It’s simple: resuscitating someone alone is difficult but possible, though having two or three trained people is ideal. Any more than three inevitably results in chaos and the patient ends up dead. By the time I’d pushed my way through to the front of the crowd in Bredow’s bathroom, he’d long been intubated and was being ventilated with a bag valve mask. My colleague
already fabricating a legend about her dead lover? “Yes, really. We were going to run away and get married. Make a new start together somewhere. That’s why I don’t think it was suicide.” I could understand Margret. If she was the only person Bredow could really talk to, she’d failed and had to feel that she was in some way responsible. It made sense that she would refuse to accept his death as a suicide. “We always talked about everything. He can’t simply have locked himself in his office one
people get my feathers ruffled over an extra honorarium? Physicians have become so accustomed to the generosity of the drug companies that they don’t even recognize them as bribes anymore. Of course it’s always for the patients’ well-being, from the short lecture followed by a lavish dinner in the most expensive restaurant right up to five days in Paris or Sydney for our so-called advanced training conferences. I knew I owed my familiarity with the finest cuisine and the most beautiful places on