Deadly Communion by Frank Tallis Page A

pushed through the gap between the uppermost vertebra of the spinal column and the skull, through the hole at the base of the skull — the foramen magnum, I believe it is called — and into the brain.’
    Liebermann banged the side of his head with the palm of his hand.
    ‘Of course, how stupid of me: and how very interesting.’ He said the word ‘interesting’ in such a way as to suggest sudden illumination.
    ‘Why interesting?’
    It was now Liebermann’s turn to be coy.
    ‘Please continue.’
    Rheinhardt knew that there would be little point in pressing his friend for an answer.
    ‘Fräulein Zeiler was reported missing by her father who subsequently identified the body. She lived with her family — father, mother, and two sisters — in the sixteenth district. The two sisters are infirm; one suffers from a chest disease and the other is crippled. The Zeilers had become increasingly dependent on Adele for support, particularly after Herr Zeiler lost his job. She was able to provide subsistence for herself and her family by selling the gifts she received from gentlemen: gentlemen whose friendship she cultivated specifically for that purpose. Her father was insistent that Adele never accepted money, but most people would probably judge her to be not very different from a prostitute. She also supplemented her income by modelling for an artist called Rainmayr — a most unsavoury fellow whom I visited yesterday. I say unsavoury, largely on account of the work he produces. His oeuvre — if we can distinguish it by such a term — must appeal mostly to the kind of man one sees in Café Central, exchanging coins under the table for lewd postcards. He specialises in portraits of young women. Very young women.’ Rheinhardt’s expression darkened.‘Rainmayr claims to have patrons in exalted circles, a boast which I fear might very well be true. Fräulein Zeiler went to see Rainmayr on Sunday afternoon. She wanted more modelling work, which he says he was unable to provide. I suspect they might have argued. She then left the artist’s studio for a small coffee house called Honniger’s where Rainmayr believes she intended to meet one of her admirers. I went to Honniger’s and one of the waiters recognised Fräulein Zeiler from a photograph. He was able to confirm that she had been there on Sunday night with a male companion. He provided a description broadly consistent with that of Herr Jaufen thaler: dark hair, tallish, thin, pale — but with the notable addition of blue eyes. The waiter supposed him to be some kind of professional.’
    Liebermann picked up the hatpin and studied it again. He seemed particularly absorbed by the bend — the small kink — close to the silver acorn. Once again, he ran his finger along its length.
    A small shower of sparks erupted among the flames of the fire.
    ‘It is tempting to assume,’ said Rheinhardt, ‘that Fräulein Zeiler’s dark-haired companion is the perpetrator; however, the evidence is circumstantial. He might have purchased the hatpin as a gift, given it to Fräulein Zeiler, and then they could have parted. We should also remember that a woman like Fräulein Zeiler might easily arouse jealous passions. She was obviously unattached to her gentlemen friends, but who knows what they felt about her? Did she mislead them? And what if one of their number had learned that Fräulein Zeiler had been trifling with his affections? Could such a besotted admirer have stumbled upon Fräulein Zeiler in Honniger’s — flirting outrageously with the dark-haired stranger — and become enraged? Could he have lain in wait, pretending, when the opportunity arose, that a chance meeting had occurred?And finally, could he have then persuaded Fräulein Zeiler to walk with him to the Volksgarten in order to enjoy her sexual favours one last time, before—’
    ‘No, no, no,’ cried Liebermann, waving his hand in the air impatiently. ‘That is quite wrong! This murder isn’t related to