Max Heller had trouble pulling himself up. His six-foot frame barely fit in the BMW sidecar, but a military motorcycle was the only vehicle available. He winced as he freed his right leg and planted both feet on the cobblestones. A freezing drizzle had set in on the ride over, and he wiped his face, then shook his head in disapproval. Instead of driving him all the way up to the building, Strampe had dropped him off at the gate. Heller took this as a show of contempt. The young SS sergeant clearly didn't like him.
- From The Air Raid Killer: The First Case of Max Heller, Dresden Detective by Frank Goldammer