of the asylum seekers in the two bottom apartments.”
“Are there any problems with them?”
Josefa was turning a chocolate biscuit around in her hand. “Actually, no. Except…” She hesitated with her answer, afraid of making herself look ridiculous. “They do their washing all day long, and at night too. The washing machines are always in use. It’s as if they’re doing other people’s laundry too!”
“Do those people downstairs often have visitors?”
“Visitors? Not a clue. I only see them now and then on the stairs. They keep moving in and out. Most of the time I haven’t any idea who’s living here and who’s not.”
She noticed that Sauter was using a gold fountain pen. A detective writing with blue ink!
“Has anything caught your attention here recently? Something you found odd? Any changes?”
Nothing really came to mind so she told him all she knew. “A family with a child, a little boy, is living there now, I think. But I don’t know them very well.”
His cup was empty; he looked tired. What else does he want? Josefa’s shoes were pinching her.
“You look tired,” she remarked, the words just slipping out. How typical of a woman to say something like that , she thought.
“Oh?” he said, turning his cup around on the saucer. “I’ve a lot to do. Long days, short nights, irregular working hours.”
“But of course your family is overjoyed about your flexible hours.”
“Oh, sure—a few years ago my wife had it with ‘overjoyed.’ We couldn’t plan anything. I was an unknown quantity and still am. That’s why she filed for divorce.”
“I know about that.”
“Divorce?”
“No, unknown quantities. Can’t plan anything. Always on call.”
Why am I telling him all this? Fortunately he didn’t pursue it. Josefa was wondering if she should offer him another cup of coffee when there was a knock on the door and Esther and the other policeman came in.
“We’re finished,” the policeman said.
“So are we,” Sauter replied, getting up and holding his hand out to Josefa. “Thank you for the coffee,” he said, shaking her hand in goodbye. She escorted the two men to the door, locking it after they left.
“Would you rather spend the night here?” Josefa asked Esther who was sitting at the kitchen table.
“That would be awfully nice, but you haven’t even unpacked, Josefa.”
“I’ve still got a few days for that. A cup of tea?”
“He forgot something,” Esther said, nodding at the cap on the chair beside her. Josefa put the kettle on the burner.
“It can wait,” she replied as she put Sauter’s cap in her dresser drawer.
Josefa woke up in the middle of the night. It was unusually quiet; not even the sound of the occasional car could be heard. Josefa genuinely wished this silence would go on forever, but something told her that this moment of calm would be her last for a long, long time. Although she could just make out the sound of Esther’s breathing from the next room, Josefa suddenly felt very much alone.
The next morning Esther had just retreated to her apartment when Claire Fendi arrived.
“I thought it best to come by in person,” she explained, her voice as thin as a violin string.
“Come on in,” Josefa said and was soon sitting with somebody in her kitchen again. Claire folded her arms across her chest protectively.
“Won’t you take your jacket off?” Josefa asked.
“No, no, I must get to the office right away. Officially I’m at the dentist.”
Claire was not well; Josefa could see that at once. Her face was a sallow, gray color, her eyes were red, and her nervous hands were nestled in her jacket sleeves. Josefa could almost feel her tension.
Claire took a deep breath. “Werner…I mean, Herr Schulmann…He’s put forward a plan for the music festival to the management board.”
The music festival…Josefa and Claire had been working for months on a plan they were both very proud of. They had culled their experience from
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