front of your door.”
Josefa could see the car now too. She hurried to get her luggage from the driver and was panting by the time she’d dragged the suitcase up to the fifth floor.
A note was pinned to her door: “Josefa, come to my place as soon as you’re back. Esther.”
She pushed her luggage into her hallway and climbed up the flight of steps. Esther Ardelius lived right above her; they were good neighbors who watered each other’s plants and kept a sharp eye on the other’s apartment when one was away.
It didn’t take Josefa long to guess what had happened the minute she saw that the door had been forced and the jamb splintered. She found her neighbor in the middle of a chaotic pile of clothes, handbags, books, scattered documents, and slashed cushions. Esther rushed into Josefa’s arms in tears.
“Everything’s gone! It’s terrible,” she sobbed. Josefa rubbed her back to calm her down, but Esther’s wailing made her words virtually incomprehensible. “Jewelry, gold, my grandmother’s heirlooms, my sound system.”
Josefa could feel Esther’s bony shoulders under her shirt.
She almost felt guilty because she hadn’t been home to prevent the break-in; she felt as if she hadn’t done her neighborly duty. There had never been a burglary in their building, though break-ins were not uncommon in this part of the city. Esther pulled away, trembling, surveying the destruction in disbelief. It will take days to clean up this mess, Josefa thought to herself.
“Did anybody see the burglars?” Josefa asked.
Esther shook her head.
“They certainly must have made a lot of noise,” Josefa remarked. “ Some body must have heard them.”
Esther shrugged. “The police asked me that too.”
Josefa picked up a slashed cushion as she thought about what to do next.
“Please don’t touch anything,” a voice behind her commanded. A man in a raincoat was standing in the smashed doorway.
“Sebastian Sauter, Criminal Investigation,” he announced quite calmly, flashing his ID. Josefa wondered why she hadn’t met the detective on the stairway or seen him outside. Where had he been waiting?
The man came nearer.
“Do you live here?” he asked, turning to Josefa. He was powerfully built and only about as tall as she was. His eyes were small, almost invisible behind his sleepy eyelids, giving his face a slightly crafty expression.
“I’m a neighbor from one floor down.”
The officer turned around, and Josefa saw another man, this one in uniform, behind him.
“Keep looking for evidence and write the report. I’m going to talk to the neighbor here,” Sauter told the other police officer. “Frau Ardelius, this man will look after you,” he said in a softer tone to Esther before turning his attention to Josefa. “Can we sit down somewhere?”
Josefa glanced at the mutilated furniture and broken china all around them. “If we’re not supposed to touch anything, that’ll be difficult,” she replied.
“You live right below?” Sauter asked in a let’s-not-make-this-complicated tone of voice.
“Yes. Come with me.” Josefa went out to the stairwell and Esther stayed in the apartment, motionless. Josefa started downstairs.
“Please stay here,” Sauter told Esther, “the other officer still needs you.”
Esther raised a limp hand. “See you later,” she whispered to Josefa.
Sauter led with a firm step. “Just a few questions, it won’t take long,” he assured her. He wore a plaid cap, like an English squire. Josefa left her apartment door ajar and took him past her Loyn luggage into the kitchen.
“Can I offer you anything?” This was a reflex reaction she had inherited from her mother, who was known to serve unexpected guests polenta and coniglio even at midnight. She noticed she still had her purse tucked firmly under her arm—as if anybody would snatch it!
“I’m dying for a pitch-black coffee,” Sauter replied, taking his cap off. His blonde hair was a touch thin in
Josefa could see the car now too. She hurried to get her luggage from the driver and was panting by the time she’d dragged the suitcase up to the fifth floor.
A note was pinned to her door: “Josefa, come to my place as soon as you’re back. Esther.”
She pushed her luggage into her hallway and climbed up the flight of steps. Esther Ardelius lived right above her; they were good neighbors who watered each other’s plants and kept a sharp eye on the other’s apartment when one was away.
It didn’t take Josefa long to guess what had happened the minute she saw that the door had been forced and the jamb splintered. She found her neighbor in the middle of a chaotic pile of clothes, handbags, books, scattered documents, and slashed cushions. Esther rushed into Josefa’s arms in tears.
“Everything’s gone! It’s terrible,” she sobbed. Josefa rubbed her back to calm her down, but Esther’s wailing made her words virtually incomprehensible. “Jewelry, gold, my grandmother’s heirlooms, my sound system.”
Josefa could feel Esther’s bony shoulders under her shirt.
She almost felt guilty because she hadn’t been home to prevent the break-in; she felt as if she hadn’t done her neighborly duty. There had never been a burglary in their building, though break-ins were not uncommon in this part of the city. Esther pulled away, trembling, surveying the destruction in disbelief. It will take days to clean up this mess, Josefa thought to herself.
“Did anybody see the burglars?” Josefa asked.
Esther shook her head.
“They certainly must have made a lot of noise,” Josefa remarked. “ Some body must have heard them.”
Esther shrugged. “The police asked me that too.”
Josefa picked up a slashed cushion as she thought about what to do next.
“Please don’t touch anything,” a voice behind her commanded. A man in a raincoat was standing in the smashed doorway.
“Sebastian Sauter, Criminal Investigation,” he announced quite calmly, flashing his ID. Josefa wondered why she hadn’t met the detective on the stairway or seen him outside. Where had he been waiting?
The man came nearer.
“Do you live here?” he asked, turning to Josefa. He was powerfully built and only about as tall as she was. His eyes were small, almost invisible behind his sleepy eyelids, giving his face a slightly crafty expression.
“I’m a neighbor from one floor down.”
The officer turned around, and Josefa saw another man, this one in uniform, behind him.
“Keep looking for evidence and write the report. I’m going to talk to the neighbor here,” Sauter told the other police officer. “Frau Ardelius, this man will look after you,” he said in a softer tone to Esther before turning his attention to Josefa. “Can we sit down somewhere?”
Josefa glanced at the mutilated furniture and broken china all around them. “If we’re not supposed to touch anything, that’ll be difficult,” she replied.
“You live right below?” Sauter asked in a let’s-not-make-this-complicated tone of voice.
“Yes. Come with me.” Josefa went out to the stairwell and Esther stayed in the apartment, motionless. Josefa started downstairs.
“Please stay here,” Sauter told Esther, “the other officer still needs you.”
Esther raised a limp hand. “See you later,” she whispered to Josefa.
Sauter led with a firm step. “Just a few questions, it won’t take long,” he assured her. He wore a plaid cap, like an English squire. Josefa left her apartment door ajar and took him past her Loyn luggage into the kitchen.
“Can I offer you anything?” This was a reflex reaction she had inherited from her mother, who was known to serve unexpected guests polenta and coniglio even at midnight. She noticed she still had her purse tucked firmly under her arm—as if anybody would snatch it!
“I’m dying for a pitch-black coffee,” Sauter replied, taking his cap off. His blonde hair was a touch thin in
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