‘You are Inspector Rheinhardt?’
Her accent was brittle.
Rheinhardt’s bow was more florid than usual — almost foppish. He gestured towards his friend: ‘And my associate, Herr Doctor Liebermann.’
Kristina tilted her head to one side, tacitly questioning why a detective inspector should be accompanied by a medical man; but Rheinhardt did not give her an answer. Instead, he clasped his hands together over his heart.
‘Thank you so much for agreeing to see us today. I wish you a swift recovery. Permit me also to offer you our most sincere condolences.’
The woman coughed. Liebermann thought the action rather forced, like a hysterical patient with tussis nervosa.
‘You are most kind, inspector. It was a shock, of course. I could hardly believe it. You read of such things in the newspapers but you never consider that your own life will be touched by such terrible events. Poor Selma.’
Rheinhardt took a step forward.
‘I understand that Fraulein Wirth was a close friend.’
Kristina’s brow furrowed. When she spoke, her delivery was hesitant: ‘I wouldn’t say that we were close. But I have known her a long time.’
‘Since childhood?’
‘Yes. But the nature of our relationship …’ Kristina appeared a little discomfited. ‘I think before we proceed any further it would be advisable for me to clarify a few points.’
‘As you wish.’
‘Selma was the daughter of my mother’s laundry maid. We were very fond of each other as children and we corresponded as adults; but, naturally, our lives have followed somewhat different courses.’ Kristina’s expression became pained. ‘We did not have a great deal in common. Further, I feigned a deeper affection than, in fact, really existed between us. You will ask why. Well, Selma was a proud woman and it was only by invoking our friendship that I could persuade her to accept financial assistance. I hope that God will forgive me this small deception which was practised only in the service of charity.’
‘I see.’ said Rheinhardt. ‘I am sure that in the ledgers of heaven such an act of human kindness will not be counted against you.’ Kristina dismissed the compliment with a languid flick of her wrist. ‘You may not have been bosom companions,’ Rheinhardt continued, ‘but I assume you were familiar with Fraulein Wirth’s general circumstances?’
‘Yes — that is true.’
Rheinhardt nodded and checked the horns of his moustache.
‘Then could you tell me if Fraulein Wirth had any gentleman friends?’
‘She had many when she was younger. She was very striking. But as soon as her leg problems started she became markedly less interested in flirtations and romance.’
‘What about recently? Did she mention meeting anyone?’
‘No. But …’
Kristina shook her head.
‘What is it?’
‘Nothing …’
‘Please,’ said Rheinhardt. ‘You were going to say something.’
‘On my last visit — and the previous one — I thought there was something about her, something different, something changed. She seemed in higher spirits and more conscious of her appearance. And I must admit, it did cross my mind …’
‘That she had begun a relationship?’
‘Yes. But I cannot say for certain. She did not say anything to confirm my suspicions.’
‘What did she talk about when you last saw her?’
‘How much she disliked working at the laundry. I had — of course — offered her a good position among my household staff on numerous occasions, but she always refused. Pride again, you see. She talked about her leg; although she always talked about her leg. She wanted to go to a spa in Switzerland where she had read about a new miracle cure.’
‘When you visited her on Thursday evening, did you see anyone else?’
‘I saw her neighbour — looking out of the window. And there was a man in the yard.’
‘Did you recognise him?’
‘No.’
‘What did he look like?’
‘I wasn’t paying much attention.’
‘How was he dressed?’
‘I think …’ Kristina bit her lower lip. ‘I think he was wearing a bowler hat and a long coat.’
‘Did he have a beard? A moustache?’
‘I really can’t remember.’
‘What was he doing?’
‘He wasn’t doing anything — he was just standing.’
‘Waiting?’
‘Possibly.’
‘Did he see you?’
‘I imagine so.’
‘In which case, I would urge you to be very vigilant. If you see this man again, you must not hesitate to contact us.’
‘But I took very little notice of him. He isn’t someone I’d recognise.’
While Rheinhardt and Frau Vogl continued their conversation, Liebermann’s attention was drawn to a series of lithographs. They were executed in a style that reminded him of illustrations he had seen in Ver Sacrum, the journal of the Vienna Secession. The female figures, in mannered stances, were greatly influenced by Klimt. Liebermann moved closer and examined the autograph: Carl Otto Czeschka. Each image showed a scene from the fairy story ‘Ashputtel’. He followed the narrative: the ugly step-sisters, confiscating Ashputtel’s fine clothes and giving her instead an old frock; Ashputtel, by the wishing tree, taking delivery of her ‘magical’ dresses — each more beautiful than the last; the handsome prince sliding a golden slipper onto Ashputtel’s dainty foot as the stepsisters reel back in horror …
A gentle knock rescued Liebermann from the phantasmagorical world of the Brothers Grimm. On the other side of the room a door was slowly opening. The man who appeared was middle-aged and dignified. Before the newcomer closed the door again, Liebermann saw that the adjoining chamber was also a bedroom.
‘May I introduce my husband,’ said Kristina. ‘Doctor Heinz Vogl. My dear, these gentlemen are Detective Inspector Rheinhardt and his colleague, Herr Doctor Liebermann.’
Heinz Vogl bowed: ‘Doctor Liebermann?’
‘I am a psychiatrist.’
‘And you work for the security office?’
‘Doctor Liebermann is a psychological consultant,’ interjected Rheinhardt.
‘I see,’ said the older man. ‘Then I sincerely hope, Herr Doctor Liebermann, that your branch of medicine — controversial though it is — can provide such insights as lead to the swift apprehension of this …’ his features screwed up in distaste ‘… monster!’
He inclined his head in modest deference and went to his wife, who reached out to him as he approached. Taking her hand, Vogl sat down on the bed beside her.
‘Are you all right, my darling?’ Kristina responded with a faint smile and then coughed. Her husband addressed the visitors: ‘A chest infection. She needs to rest.’
‘Of course,’ said Rheinhardt. ‘We will not disturb you for very much longer.’
Heinz Vogl picked up one of his wife’s sketchbooks.
‘You have been working, my dear.’ The tone of his voice carried a gentle censure.
‘I was bored,’ Kristina replied.
The physician shook his head and sighed.
‘Were you acquainted with Fraulein Wirth, Herr doctor?’ Rheinhardt asked.
‘Yes, I met her once. Kristina wanted me to examine her — to give an opinion. I’m not really a leg man, so I arranged for her to see a colleague, Alvintzi. I met her briefly at the hospital.’
‘What was wrong with Fraulein Wirth?’
‘It was difficult to establish. Alvintzi wasn’t sure whether it was a muscular or orthopaedic problem.’
‘Frau Vogl must take great care,’ said Rheinhardt. ‘The man she saw outside Fraulein Wirth’s-’
‘What man?’ Vogl cut in. He looked from Rheinhardt to his wife. ‘You saw a man?’