more. They’d renovated the castle to such an extent that you’d have thought you were in a civil service apartment. And maybe, in the end, it’d struck Vergolder that way, too. Because Brenner was thinking now, Maybe that’s why he’s got so much old furniture stuffed into this place, so that it doesn’t look like a civil service apartment from all the renovating. Because wherever he looked, Brenner saw a heap of antique furniture.
And as Vergolder led him further into the castle, there got to be more and more antique furniture. It was almost too much for Brenner. He had to look where he was going, make sure he was following Vergolder exactly, because everywhere he looked, he was stepping over a Madonna or a saint, he had to pay attention that he didn’t step on anything.
Now, you should know, Brenner had a terrible sense of direction. And this, after twenty years on the force. You’d like to think a person might come to learn a thing like that,but no dice. Typically, all it takes is two turns, and he doesn’t know where he is anymore—I mean, no talk of directions. And as Vergolder dragged him through a few hallways and up two, three staircases full of antiquities, needless to say, he immediately lost all sense of orientation.
But then, he knew where he was all over again. Because the living room has a window, and the window alone was as big as his whole civil service apartment. And so the detective saw Lake Zell, and really, all of Zell below him, I mean, splendid, you’ve got to admit.
And so he’d found his way back again. He couldn’t quite see the Glockner Dam across the way, but right next to the Mooser Dam he saw something gleaming in the sun, and that was the funicular station at Heidnische Kirche.
“Have a seat!” Vergolder says.
But the living room, too, or, the living hall, let’s call it, was completely stuffed full of antique furniture. And that’s why Brenner didn’t know all over again, where am I supposed to sit down.
Instead he went over to the window and turned his back to Vergolder, because he was looking out the window. Maybe just so that he wouldn’t have to be constantly looking at the heap of antique furniture, which was really getting to feel oppressive. And while he’s looking out the window, he says:
“What’s with the bogus alibi that you gave the police—did you not want to protect yourself?”
“Do have a seat!” Vergolder says.
But Brenner didn’t react, just kept looking out thepanoramic window—why the Historical Landmarks Preservation Commission allowed a window like that to get installed in a place like this, please, don’t even get me started. He only turned around when the maid brought the tea in. A slight, maybe sixteen-year-old girl that he’d seen in town a few times. Now, as long as the maid was there, Vergolder struck up a harmless tone.
“A tragic story, the death of my in-laws. But, you know what I console myself with? They met while skiing. Nineteen twenty-nine, on a ski trip to Vermont. And they died together in a ski lift. And then I think to myself: Maybe it was supposed to be that way, just so I can find some consolation in that.”
Vergolder lit up a cigarette, and Brenner thought, Interesting, ever since I’ve gone off cigarettes, I’ve only had to deal with people who are chain smokers. He waited for Vergolder to say something about the accusation. But, as soon as the girl left, he only put on his kids’ coaching look again and said:
“Why is it exactly that you’re not on the force anymore?”
But not what you’re thinking, that it was a question. No, more like an answer is how it sounded. And needless to say, it was, too. Because Vergolder knew for a fact why Brenner wasn’t on the force anymore. Just like Brenner already knew the answer to his own question, I mean, why the false alibi.
In truth Brenner was preoccupied with a completely different question now. This whole time he’d been asking himself, What is it about
And as Vergolder led him further into the castle, there got to be more and more antique furniture. It was almost too much for Brenner. He had to look where he was going, make sure he was following Vergolder exactly, because everywhere he looked, he was stepping over a Madonna or a saint, he had to pay attention that he didn’t step on anything.
Now, you should know, Brenner had a terrible sense of direction. And this, after twenty years on the force. You’d like to think a person might come to learn a thing like that,but no dice. Typically, all it takes is two turns, and he doesn’t know where he is anymore—I mean, no talk of directions. And as Vergolder dragged him through a few hallways and up two, three staircases full of antiquities, needless to say, he immediately lost all sense of orientation.
But then, he knew where he was all over again. Because the living room has a window, and the window alone was as big as his whole civil service apartment. And so the detective saw Lake Zell, and really, all of Zell below him, I mean, splendid, you’ve got to admit.
And so he’d found his way back again. He couldn’t quite see the Glockner Dam across the way, but right next to the Mooser Dam he saw something gleaming in the sun, and that was the funicular station at Heidnische Kirche.
“Have a seat!” Vergolder says.
But the living room, too, or, the living hall, let’s call it, was completely stuffed full of antique furniture. And that’s why Brenner didn’t know all over again, where am I supposed to sit down.
Instead he went over to the window and turned his back to Vergolder, because he was looking out the window. Maybe just so that he wouldn’t have to be constantly looking at the heap of antique furniture, which was really getting to feel oppressive. And while he’s looking out the window, he says:
“What’s with the bogus alibi that you gave the police—did you not want to protect yourself?”
“Do have a seat!” Vergolder says.
But Brenner didn’t react, just kept looking out thepanoramic window—why the Historical Landmarks Preservation Commission allowed a window like that to get installed in a place like this, please, don’t even get me started. He only turned around when the maid brought the tea in. A slight, maybe sixteen-year-old girl that he’d seen in town a few times. Now, as long as the maid was there, Vergolder struck up a harmless tone.
“A tragic story, the death of my in-laws. But, you know what I console myself with? They met while skiing. Nineteen twenty-nine, on a ski trip to Vermont. And they died together in a ski lift. And then I think to myself: Maybe it was supposed to be that way, just so I can find some consolation in that.”
Vergolder lit up a cigarette, and Brenner thought, Interesting, ever since I’ve gone off cigarettes, I’ve only had to deal with people who are chain smokers. He waited for Vergolder to say something about the accusation. But, as soon as the girl left, he only put on his kids’ coaching look again and said:
“Why is it exactly that you’re not on the force anymore?”
But not what you’re thinking, that it was a question. No, more like an answer is how it sounded. And needless to say, it was, too. Because Vergolder knew for a fact why Brenner wasn’t on the force anymore. Just like Brenner already knew the answer to his own question, I mean, why the false alibi.
In truth Brenner was preoccupied with a completely different question now. This whole time he’d been asking himself, What is it about
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