Death And The Maiden

47

When Rheinhardt had broken the news of Professor Saminsky’s death to Frau Saminsky, she had fainted. A doctor was called and it wasn’t until the early hours of the afternoon that the inspector was finally admitted into her bedchamber. By that time the nature of her grief had changed and the doctor’s sedating tinctures had begun to take effect. The keening and sobbing had subsided, but what had replaced this mental anguish was — for Rheinhardt — more disturbing. Frau Saminsky’s expression was now devoid of emotion. She seemed numb, hollowed out.

‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ said Rheinhardt. Frau Saminsky turned to look at him. Her bloodshot eyes communicated nothing of her inner state.

‘What do you want, Inspector?’

Rheinhardt sighed. He did not wish to intrude upon this woman’s private suffering. Yet there was no alternative.

‘I gave Daniel your message.’ She said this as if she thought that the inspector might have come merely to confirm that she had complied with his prior request.

‘Thank you.’ He was tempted to get up and leave. It felt wrong to be there. Instead, he took a deep breath and asked his first question. ‘Frau Professor, did you meet with your husband last night — as planned?’

‘Yes.’

‘And you attended the function in the Redoutensaal?’

‘Yes.’

‘May I ask, what frame of mind was your husband in?’

One of Frau Saminsky’s eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘Actually … he was rather preoccupied.’

‘Oh?’

‘He said very little.’ She hesitated before adding, ‘He was anxious to speak with the lord marshal.’

‘And did he?’

‘What?’

‘Speak with the lord marshal?’

‘Yes.’ Frau Saminsky opened her hand, revealing a crushed handkerchief. She stared at it with drugged detachment, then asked, ‘Where is he?’

‘The body has been removed to the pathological institute.’

‘Have my daughters returned yet?’

‘No.’

‘I do not think I can tell them. I cannot bear to see their faces. Will you ask Doctor Rzehak to …’ Her sentence trailed off and her lower lip trembled slightly.

‘Yes, of course.’

Frau Saminsky blinked at her inquisitor. ‘Drowned.’ The word seemed to hang in the air, resonating like a struck gong. ‘How did it happen?’

‘We don’t know yet. When the autopsy is completed we will know more.’

‘He loved swimming. He said that I should swim too, but I have never been a very active person. I have heard it said that opposites attract. That was certainly true in our case.’

She closed her eyes and a tear trickled down her cheek. Raising her hand, she dabbed her face with the screwed-up ball of her handkerchief.

‘What time did your husband rise this morning?’

‘I don’t know. He didn’t come to bed.’ She opened her eyes. ‘When we got back from the palace last night he went straight to his study.’

‘Why?’

‘He said that he was too agitated to sleep. He wanted to read before retiring.’

‘And when did he retire?’

‘He didn’t. He must have been up all night — or perhaps he dozed in his study before leaving the house this morning.’

‘Do you have any idea why he was so anxious to speak with the lord marshal?’

‘No.’

‘Did they speak for long?’

‘Yes, they did.’ Frau Saminsky raised a hand. ‘I cannot answer any more of your questions, Inspector.’ This was not a protest but a simple statement of fact. ‘I really can’t.’ She let her arm fall and it landed heavily on the counterpane.

Rheinhardt stood up, bowed, and made his way to the door.