Death And The Maiden

62

When Rheinhardt found the envelope bearing the mayor’s seal in his mailbox, his heart faltered. He stood for some time, immobilised by anxiety, supposing that the letter inside must contain a list of the mayor’s grievances. A second letter — demanding Rheinhardt’s dismissal — was probably awaiting the commissioner’s perusal. Bracing himself, Rheinhardt began to read; however, he was surprised to discover that it was not a letter of complaint, filled with allegations of professional incompetence, but a plainly worded invitation written by a municipal secretary. The mayor respectfully requested Detective Inspector Rheinhardt and his colleague, Herr Doctor Liebermann, to attend a private meeting at the town hall two days hence.

Thirty minutes prior to their engagement, Rheinhardt and Liebermann sat in the Cafe Landtmann, drinking pear brandy and speculating on the mayor’s purpose.

‘I don’t like it,’ said Rheinhardt. ‘Whatever can he want?’

Liebermann was concerned that Rheinhardt had imbibed more liquor than was strictly necessary to steady his nerves.

‘Come on, let’s go,’ said Liebermann, ‘We’ll walk around the park a few times before going in. Some fresh air will clear our heads.’

They left the coffee house, crossed the Ringstrasse, and wandered around the green avenues in front of the town hall. In due course Rheinhardt looked up at the clock tower and said, ‘We’d better go in.’ Ascending the stairs, they stepped beneath the Gothic archway and entered the building. On this occasion they were met by one of Lueger’s green-coated courtiers who escorted them straight to the antechamber outside the mayor’s apartment. Soon after they were seated the double doors opened and Pumera appeared, gesturing for them to come forward.

The mayor was sitting behind his desk and stood as they entered.

‘Good morning, gentlemen.’

Rheinhardt and Liebermann crossed the wide expanse of the Persian rug, bowed, and sat down in the two chairs that had been placed in readiness for their arrival.

Lueger offered them cigarettes, which they refused, before lighting one for himself.

‘Well, gentlemen,’ he said, smiling. ‘Congratulations. You got your man. Professor Saminsky, eh? And who would have thought it? I never encountered the fellow but I am given to understand that he was well thought of by his peers and a favourite of the late empress. I’ve been following the revelations in the Wiener Zeitung. Have you read the latest? No?’ The mayor picked up a newspaper and pointed at a column. ‘Not only was he a murderer but an embezzler too. It’s all coming out now. Apparently, he pocketed thousands from palace charities. Extraordinary, that he got away with it for so long. No wonder he took his own life. I suppose he knew that his days were numbered.’ The mayor dropped the paper and drew on his cigarette. ‘Gentlemen: would you care for a cognac?’

‘No, thank you,’ said Rheinhardt.

‘Please. You are my guests and I will be offended if you do not accept my hospitality. Pumera? Some cognacs, please.’

The bodyguard moved silently to a cabinet and began to prepare a tray.

‘Mayor Lueger,’ said Rheinhardt, ‘why did you wish to see us today?’

The mayor appeared astonished by Rheinhardt’s question. ‘To congratulate you on solving the Rosenkrantz murder and to thank you for exercising discretion. Things could have turned out very badly for me, had certain sections of the press,’ he smiled benignly at Liebermann, ‘been informed of my. .’ he hesitated before adding, ‘. . involvement.’ The certain sections of the press to whom he referred were Jewish journalists. Showing no sign of embarrassment, the mayor continued: ‘Yes, a scandal could have been very damaging just before an election; however, as things stand, my campaign is proceeding well and I have every reason to expect a favourable outcome.’

Rheinhardt bowed his head. ‘Commissioner Brugel will be delighted to hear that you are satisfied with our conduct.’

‘And so he should be. One more thing, Inspector.’ The mayor puffed at his cigarette. ‘My letters, the ones that I wrote to poor Ida: given that the investigation is now over, I assume that they can now be returned to me?’

‘Only a few scraps survived.’

‘Still, I would be grateful for their return.’

‘I am sure that the commissioner will not object to such a request.’

‘Good man.’

Pumera appeared by the desk and the brandies were distributed. Lueger raised his glass. ‘Prost! Gentlemen. Your good health!’

Rheinhardt’s glass came up, but Liebermann’s remained resolutely still. ‘I am most surprised …’ he said softly.

‘What?’ The mayor frowned.

Rheinhardt threw a quizzical glance at his friend.

‘Surprised,’ Liebermann repeated, ‘that you are happy to drink my health.’

Rheinhardt sensed Pumera bristling. The mayor smiled and said: ‘Herr Doctor, in these rooms, I decide who is a Jew. Your good health!’

With evident reluctance, Liebermann raised his glass.

‘Prost,’ said Rheinhardt, starting to breathe again.