Deadly Communion

20

KRISTINA CLIMBED THE STAIRS. As she did so, her suspicions were aroused by the absence of any noise. The sewing machines were silent.

Her secretary, Wanda, had gone up to collect a garment some time ago but had not returned. Kristina had grown impatient.

The sound of voices …

Overcome with curiosity, Kristina tiptoed across the landing and placed her ear against the door.

‘My mother has forbidden me to go out alone — not since the second one got killed.’

‘There’s no danger: not for the likes of us.’

‘How can you be so sure?’

‘The two that got killed: one was an artist’s model, the other was a shop girl. She lived in Spittelberg.’

Now it was Wanda speaking: ‘You think they were both prostitutes?’

‘As good as.’

Another voice — rather low and ponderous: ‘I’m not going out on my own, whatever you say. I’m frightened.’

‘I’d get bored cooped up at home every night. It’d drive me mad.’

‘I saw this man on the tram.’ Again the low voice. ‘He was staring at me.’

‘I should be so lucky.’

Laughter.

‘Albertine, you shouldn’t joke about such things!’

Kristina opened the door and — miraculously — the seamstresses were all busy at work. The clatter of the machines and the girls’ intent expressions suggested prolonged, concentrated industry. Wanda was standing, the dress that she had originally gone to collect hanging over her arm.

‘I may not be as young as you girls,’ Kristina shouted. ‘But I can assure you, I am not going deaf!’

Guilty looks: burning cheeks. One or two machines slowed as the pretence of work was abandoned.

‘We were talking about the murders, madame.’

‘I know.’

‘It’s almost dark when we leave, madame. I don’t want to walk home in the dark …’

‘What are you talking about? Dark? It’s getting lighter every day.’

‘But, madame …’

Another girl, the one with the low voice, said: ‘In my magazine it said the streets are no longer safe for young women, especially at night.’

Kristina looked around the room, up and down the rows of expectant faces. The last machine slowed to a halt.

Silence.

‘All right,’ said Kristina. ‘You can leave a little earlier — but only if you promise to work harder. We won’t be able to deliver the new orders on time if you sit around gossiping all day.’

A chorus of thanks and promises.

Kristina beckoned Wanda.

‘Come on. And please don’t slouch so.’

‘Yes, madame,’ said the secretary, straightening her back and following her mistress.