Vienna Blood

61

“WHERE IS DOCTOR LIEBERMANN?”

Rheinhardt looked at the Englishwoman and shrugged. “I have been trying to contact the good doctor since this morning-without success. I can only assume that he is indisposed.”

Miss Lydgate nodded curtly. “Am I to understand that you wish me to make another microscopic analysis?”

“Indeed. There has been another murder-a Capuchin monk, can you believe, whose body was discovered last night in the crypt of the Kapuzinerkirche. We collected various samples of dust from the floor, and I was wondering whether you could make a comparison with the slides that you prepared earlier this month.”

Rheinhardt gestured toward a wooden box. It had a label gummed to the lid on which was written:

Ra'ad. 7 November 1902. Samples from scarf.

Prepared by Miss Lydgate 10 November 1902-Schottenring Laboratory.

“As you are already familiar with the materials,” Rheinhardt continued, “I thought that you would be best qualified to undertake the task…” The pitch of his sentence rose like a question.

“I am sure your technical staff are capable of making such a comparison. But because I am both present and flattered by your request, let us proceed. Where are the new samples?”

Rheinhardt produced a stack of isinglass envelopes.

“Each of these contains samples of dust taken from various locations in the crypt.”

Amelia took the first envelope and observed an inky script in the top right-hand corner.

“Emperor Franz Stephan and Empress Maria Theresa?”

“Ah yes. That refers to the occupants of the casket closest to where the sample was taken from.”

“I see.”

“As it happens, that is also the most important sample. The Capuchin's body was discovered next to that very casket-so we know that the murderer stood close by. I would be most grateful if you would give that particular sample your most thorough attention.”

“Herr Inspector, I will give all of them my most thorough attention-without exception.”

There was something almost defiant about the Englishwoman's tone: the coolness of her delivery, and the preternatural intensity of her expression.

“Thank you,” said Rheinhardt, a little worried that he might have offended her.

“Inspector, why don't you return to your office? This exercise will take some time and your presence here serves no purpose. You will, I suspect, have many other things of importance to attend to.”

“Oh, but you cannot be left here alone.”

“Why ever not?”

“It would be discourteous.”

“Inspector, it is my preference.”

“Are you sure?”

“Quite sure, Inspector.”

Amelia turned toward the microscope. Rheinhardt thanked her again but she did not hear him. Her mind was entirely absorbed by the task in hand. Rheinhardt tiptoed to the door and departed like a shadow. Peering through the corridor window, he could see Miss Lydgate organizing the laboratory equipment with ruthless efficiency. She was, Rheinhardt thought, a very peculiar woman. But he was delighted to have made her acquaintance.