She was taller than I had supposed, with larger breasts, and as Heckholz made the introductions she took my hand as if she’d been handing alms to Lazarus.
“Herr Gunther, this is Frau Minoux.”
“That’s a bad habit, Frau Minoux. Listening outside doors like that.”
“I wanted to see what kind of man you are before I made my mind up about you.”
“And what’s the conclusion?”
“I still haven’t decided.”
“You’re not alone there.”
“Anyway, it’s a bad habit I learned from you, Herr Gunther. It was you my husband paid to spy on me at my home in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, wasn’t it? When was that exactly?”
I nodded. “Nineteen thirty-five.”
“Nineteen thirty-five.” Frau Minoux rolled her eyes and sighed. “So much has happened since then.”
“Well, I guess he didn’t find anything,” Heckholz told her, “otherwise you’d hardly be here now, would you? Still married to Friedrich.”
“You’d have to ask Herr Gunther that,” said Frau Minoux.
“I didn’t find anything, no. But strictly speaking, Frau Minoux, I never actually listened outside your door. As it happens, I subcontracted the job in Garmisch to a local detective—an Austrian named Max Ahrweiler. He was the one who was looking through your keyhole, not me.”
Frau Minoux sat down, and as she crossed her legs the wraparound dress she was wearing fell from her thigh to reveal a lilac-colored garter; I turned politely away to give her time to fix this but when I looked again, I could still see the garter. I told myself that if she didn’t mind me looking then I didn’t mind, either. It was a nice garter. But the length of smooth, creamy white thigh over which it was stretched was better. She screwed a cigarette into her holder and allowed Heckholz to light her.
“Is it Arabian Nights?” he asked. “The perfume you’re wearing, Lilly? Just out of interest.”
“Yes,” she said.
Heckholz put away his lighter and looked at me. “I’m impressed. You have a good nose, Herr Gunther.”
“Don’t be. My nose for perfume is the same as the one I use for trouble. And right now I’m getting a strong scent of it from both of you.”
But I sat down anyway. It wasn’t like I had very much to do at home except stare at the walls and sleep, and I’d already done quite enough of that at work.
“Please,” she said. “Put the money back in your pocket and at least hear us out.”
I nodded and then did as she had asked.
“First,” said Heckholz, “I should explain that my main offices are in Austria, which is where Frau Minoux is still primarily a resident. However, she also rents a house here in Berlin-Dahlem. I act for both her and for Herr Minoux, who is of course currently languishing in Brandenburg Prison. I take it that you’re familiar with the basic facts of the Berlin Gas Company case.”
“He and two others defrauded the company of seven and a half million reichsmarks and now he’s doing five years.” I shrugged. “But before that he helped steal a company—the Okriftel Paper Company—from a family of Jews in Frankfurt.”
“That company had already been Aryanized by the Frankfurt Chamber of Commerce,” said Frau Minoux. “All Friedrich did was buy a company the owners were legally obliged to sell.”
“Maybe. But if you ask me, he had it coming. That’s what I know about Herr Friedrich Minoux.”
Frau Minoux didn’t flinch. Clearly she was made of stronger stuff than her husband. For a minute I let my imagination play around in her pants; maybe they smell something in the air, but it’s surprising how often women guess what I’m up to; it’s a technique I use sometimes to let them know that I’m a man. But she finally woke up to the fact that she was showing a garter and tugged the dress back over her thigh.
“The rights and wrongs of the Berlin Gas Company case are not in dispute,” said Heckholz. “And it might interest you to know that several million reichsmarks have
“Herr Gunther, this is Frau Minoux.”
“That’s a bad habit, Frau Minoux. Listening outside doors like that.”
“I wanted to see what kind of man you are before I made my mind up about you.”
“And what’s the conclusion?”
“I still haven’t decided.”
“You’re not alone there.”
“Anyway, it’s a bad habit I learned from you, Herr Gunther. It was you my husband paid to spy on me at my home in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, wasn’t it? When was that exactly?”
I nodded. “Nineteen thirty-five.”
“Nineteen thirty-five.” Frau Minoux rolled her eyes and sighed. “So much has happened since then.”
“Well, I guess he didn’t find anything,” Heckholz told her, “otherwise you’d hardly be here now, would you? Still married to Friedrich.”
“You’d have to ask Herr Gunther that,” said Frau Minoux.
“I didn’t find anything, no. But strictly speaking, Frau Minoux, I never actually listened outside your door. As it happens, I subcontracted the job in Garmisch to a local detective—an Austrian named Max Ahrweiler. He was the one who was looking through your keyhole, not me.”
Frau Minoux sat down, and as she crossed her legs the wraparound dress she was wearing fell from her thigh to reveal a lilac-colored garter; I turned politely away to give her time to fix this but when I looked again, I could still see the garter. I told myself that if she didn’t mind me looking then I didn’t mind, either. It was a nice garter. But the length of smooth, creamy white thigh over which it was stretched was better. She screwed a cigarette into her holder and allowed Heckholz to light her.
“Is it Arabian Nights?” he asked. “The perfume you’re wearing, Lilly? Just out of interest.”
“Yes,” she said.
Heckholz put away his lighter and looked at me. “I’m impressed. You have a good nose, Herr Gunther.”
“Don’t be. My nose for perfume is the same as the one I use for trouble. And right now I’m getting a strong scent of it from both of you.”
But I sat down anyway. It wasn’t like I had very much to do at home except stare at the walls and sleep, and I’d already done quite enough of that at work.
“Please,” she said. “Put the money back in your pocket and at least hear us out.”
I nodded and then did as she had asked.
“First,” said Heckholz, “I should explain that my main offices are in Austria, which is where Frau Minoux is still primarily a resident. However, she also rents a house here in Berlin-Dahlem. I act for both her and for Herr Minoux, who is of course currently languishing in Brandenburg Prison. I take it that you’re familiar with the basic facts of the Berlin Gas Company case.”
“He and two others defrauded the company of seven and a half million reichsmarks and now he’s doing five years.” I shrugged. “But before that he helped steal a company—the Okriftel Paper Company—from a family of Jews in Frankfurt.”
“That company had already been Aryanized by the Frankfurt Chamber of Commerce,” said Frau Minoux. “All Friedrich did was buy a company the owners were legally obliged to sell.”
“Maybe. But if you ask me, he had it coming. That’s what I know about Herr Friedrich Minoux.”
Frau Minoux didn’t flinch. Clearly she was made of stronger stuff than her husband. For a minute I let my imagination play around in her pants; maybe they smell something in the air, but it’s surprising how often women guess what I’m up to; it’s a technique I use sometimes to let them know that I’m a man. But she finally woke up to the fact that she was showing a garter and tugged the dress back over her thigh.
“The rights and wrongs of the Berlin Gas Company case are not in dispute,” said Heckholz. “And it might interest you to know that several million reichsmarks have
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