Snow White Must Die by Nele Neuhaus Page B

of time to read and watch TV.”
    “Which of my movies did you like best?”
    “I don’t know.” Tobias smiled. “They’re all good.”
    “You’re flattering me.” She tilted her head to one side. A loose strand of hair fell into her eyes. “You really haven’t changed at all.”
    She lit a cigarette, took a drag, and then stuck it between Tobias’s lips the way she had so often done before. Their faces were very close. Tobias raised his hand and touched her cheek. He felt her breath warm on his face, then her lips on his mouth. They both hesitated for a moment.
    “It would be bad for your reputation if someone found out that you know an ex-con,” Tobias whispered.
    “What if I told you that my reputation has never mattered to me?” she replied in a hoarse voice. She took his cigarette from his hand and dropped it casually in the ashtray behind her. Her cheeks glowed and her eyes shone. He felt her desire echoing his own yearning and pulled her on top of him. His hands slid up her thighs and grasped her hips. His heart was pounding and a wave of lust surged through his body as her tongue penetrated his mouth. When was the last time he had slept with a woman? He could scarcely remember. Stefanie … the red sofa … Nadia’s kiss turned passionate. Without stopping they tore off their clothes and made love full of desire, mute and gasping and with no trace of tenderness. There would be time enough for that later.

 
     
    Monday, November 10, 2008
     
    Claudius Terlinden drank his coffee standing up and gazed out the kitchen window down at the house next door. If he hurried he could give the girl at the bus stop a ride again. A couple of months ago when the secretary of his company, Arne Fröhlich, had introduced his almost grown daughter from his first marriage, the thought hadn’t occurred to Terlinden. The piercings, the crazy hairdo, and the weird black clothes had irritated him as much as her sullen expression and cold demeanor. But yesterday at the Black Horse, when she had smiled at him, the realization had struck him like a bolt of lightning. The girl bore an almost spooky resemblance to Stefanie Schneeberger. The same finely etched and alabaster-pale facial features, the voluptuous mouth, the dark, knowing eyes—simply incredible.
    “Snow White,” he murmured. Last night he had dreamed about her, a strange, sinister dream in which the present and the past became entangled in a bewildering way. When he awoke in the middle of the night bathed in sweat, it had taken him a moment to realize that it was only a dream.
    He heard footsteps behind him and turned around. His wife appeared in the kitchen doorway, her hair perfect despite the early hour.
    “You’re up early.” He went to the sink and ran hot water in the cup. “Have you got something planned?”
    “I have an appointment with Verena downtown at ten.”
    “Oh.” How his wife spent her day didn’t interest him in the least.
    “Things are starting to happen again,” she said then. “Just when grass was beginning to grow over the whole episode.”
    “What do you mean?” Terlinden cast an annoyed glance at her.
    “It might have been better if the Sartoriuses had moved away from here.”
    “Where would they go? A story like that would follow them everywhere.”
    “Whatever. There are going to be problems. People in town are already sharpening their knives.”
    “That’s what I was afraid of.” Claudius Terlinden put his coffee cup in the dishwasher. “By the way, Rita was seriously injured in an accident Friday afternoon. They say somebody pushed her off a bridge into the path of an oncoming car.”
    “What?” Christine Terlinden’s eyes widened in shock. “Where did you hear that?”
    “I spoke to Tobias briefly last night.”
    “You what? Why didn’t you tell me?” She gave her husband an incredulous look. Christine Terlinden was still a remarkably beautiful woman at the age of fifty-one. She wore her natural blond