Read Online The Zurich Conspiracy by Bernadette Calonego - Free Book Online

places, but the pronounced shape of his head signaled decisiveness. So that’s what a Zurich police detective looks like, Josefa thought to herself. She ground the beans and fixed the holder to the espresso machine. She could see out of the corner of her eye that her unexpected guest was looking around intently.
    “You probably know the interiors of half the homes in Zurich,” Josefa said.
    He paused. “I know them at best when they’re in a state of matter that’s been dissolved,” he answered in a warm, amused tone of voice.
    “You sound like a chemist,” she quipped, handing him a cup of steaming espresso.
    “Good espresso,” he said, clearly grateful for her offering.
    Josefa did not want to sit down so she leaned against the fridge.
    “You’re just back from a trip?” he asked, taking out a notebook.
    “Yes, I was away for a little over a week.”
    He looked at her a little suspiciously.
    “Vacation in Spain,” she added.
    “You weren’t here, then, when it happened?”
    “No.”
    Sauter brushed his hair back. “What’s the rent here, actually?” he asked out of the blue, an odd interrogation technique.
    Josefa frowned. “Is that part of your official inquiry?”
    He apologized at once. “No, it’s more out of curiosity; I’ve always liked this part of town.”
    “Yes, it’s a good area to live in,” Josefa said—hearing the sudden irony in that statement.
    “You live here alone?”
    “Yes.”
    He went to the window; over the Zurich rooftops you could see where the clouds were about to obscure the snow-covered mountains on the horizon.
    “You’ve got a nice view.”
    “Yes, I think a view’s important. Why have the most beautiful apartment and an ugly concrete wall out the window?” She rummaged around in the kitchen cupboard for the chocolate biscuits she always had on hand.
    “Aha…And what’s your line of work?”
    “I’m a manager for event marketing.”
    He gave her a quizzical look, but she was not in the mood for long explanations.
    “I market luxury luggage for the well-to-do.”
    “Aha, and what does it take for a job like that?”
    Josefa was perplexed: What’s this guy trying to get at? His eyes behind those sleepy eyelids seemed to betray nothing more than just a normal curiosity. But Josefa wasn’t fooled. By way of explanation she repeated her mantra. “I must completely put myself into the customer’s head; I must feel what they feel. I must turn into the customer, though I’m really the salesperson. That’s the trick.”
    “You call it a trick,” he said, a statement, not a question.
    She was getting a little indignant. Why should she be explaining her job to a total stranger, to a detective, of all people? “It’s much more extreme in your case, surely,” she replied. “You must get into the criminal’s head, right? You must think and plan like a criminal—be able to understand their feelings.”
    “So you’re suggesting I’m supposed to become a criminal in my mind?” Sauter asked, putting his coffee cup down noisily on the saucer.
    “To a certain extent…Of course it’s for a good cause—I don’t mean to insinuate anything,” Josefa replied unfazed.
    “See, we’ve got something in common, then,” Sauter responded. “And why do you think people buy these deluxe suitcases?”
    She thought their conversation was becoming positively bizarre. “I think they want to belong somewhere. To an exclusive club of course…But they want to belong somewhere,” she replied after some hesitation, a little surprised by her own answer.
    “Do you know anybody else living in this building?” The question came without any warning. It was an interrogation, after all.
    “I only know Esther Ardelius really well. I’m often away, and the apartments change hands a lot. They’re small, for students, whoever. The people I knew have slowly moved away.”
    “Why’s that?” Sauter asked, taking notes.
    “I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe because