'About three weeks. Although it feels much longer.'
'Well, now that the initial excitement has passed it's inevitable that the happier emotions should give way to a more thoughtful frame of mind. Doubts creep in – and rightly so. After all, a man who did not give proper consideration to such a momentous decision would be correctly identified as a fool, wouldn't he?'
'Yes,' said Liebermann, 'I suppose he would.'
'I cannot give you any advice, Max,' Rheinhardt continued, 'because every man must make his own way in life. But I can tell you a little of my experience – which may or may not be helpful.' The Inspector's tired eyes became oddly bright. 'Had I taken heed of those doubts, I don't know what would have become of me! What a sorry existence I would have led. Gentlemen's clubs, trips to Baden, a little shooting, perhaps, and the occasional company of a shop girl . . . I tell you, Max, there isn't a single day that passes when I am not forced to count myself among the most fortunate of men. My life would have been empty and cheerless without the love of my dear Else and the endless diversion and amusement afforded me by my beautiful daughters.'
Liebermann found his friend's words deeply reassuring.
Rheinhardt continued to talk in glowing terms about his wife and family, and Liebermann reciprocated, describing Clara and something of her background. He felt slightly uncomfortable: it seemed as though he was aping his father, talking of the long association between the Liebermann and Weiss families. However, he also felt curiously relieved, as though he had embarked on a process of bridge-building, linking the various parts of his life together – making the entirety more coherent and secure.
In due course the subject of their conversation changed, and by degrees they returned reluctantly to the dreadful experience that they had shared at the Institute.
'You know,' said Rheinhardt, 'I haven't been able to clear my mind of it. The mental picture of those poor . . .' He paused before adding: 'Babies.'
'Indeed,' Liebermann replied. 'It was a pathetic sight.' He lit another cigar and added: 'It hasn't been reported in the newspapers?'
'No.'
'Because of Commissioner Brugel?'
'Of course.' Rheinhardt frowned at the mention of his superior. 'He says that such a discovery will only make matters worse – make the murder appear even more sensational.'
'Have there been any more developments?'
Rheinhardt began describing the interview that he had conducted with Roche. Occasionally Liebermann asked him to elaborate some detail, but on the whole the young doctor was content to listen. The cigar in his hand burned slowly – turning inch by inch into a length of wilting ash.
'I'd put that cigar out if I were you,' said Rheinhardt.
Liebermann turned lazily and flicked his thumb. The ash fell into the tray producing a small, dusty cloud.
'What's his first name, this Roche character?' asked Liebermann.
'Theodore.'
Liebermann thought for a few moments, stubbing out his cigar before saying: 'They were aware he might seek revenge.'
'Who, Fraulein Lowenstein and Braun?'
'Yes.'
'Why do you say that?'
'When I hypnotised Rosa Sucher and she spoke in Lowenstein's voice, the name Theo was mentioned.'
'I don't remember that.'
'Yes, right at the every end. It was when her speech had become quite incoherent . . . she was saying things like,
'How interesting.'
'A large city must offer those who live by fraud endless possibilities for deception. Where else could one find so many willing dupes? Once Fraulein Lowenstein and Braun had squandered their ill-gotten gains, returning to Vienna might have been something of a necessity; however, by doing so they were taking a considerable risk. They had ruined Roche – and, as we all know, desperate men are dangerous. It doesn't surprise me in the least that his name should have arisen during their argument.'
Rheinhardt shook his head.
'I don't know, Max. Just because they mentioned his name . . . it doesn't mean that they were worried about him, does it? We don't even know if they were talking about the same Theo.'
'True, but it is a reasonable hypothesis. Did he strike you as a man capable of murder?'
'I fear that all men, once betrayed – particularly by a lover – are capable of murder.'
'And then there is also the tantalising issue of his current occupation: working in an armaments factory. Is it possible that he might have in his possession the means to construct a bullet with unusual, seemingly magical, properties?'
'I really don't see why a former theatre manager, simply by working in an armaments factory, should acquire more knowledge about ballistics than our police experts possess. That seems implausible to me. Also, would a guilty man really make such an admission?'
'How do you mean?'
'He said that he would have killed Charlotte Lowenstein – if only he'd had the opportunity.'
'Perhaps that was his intention, Oskar, to mislead by simulating honesty.'
'No, I don't think so. Besides, the more we find out about Braun, the more likely it seems that he is the perpetrator. Wouldn't you agree?'
Liebermann did not respond.
'It is clear that he was Fraulein Lowenstein's lover and accomplice,' continued Rheinhardt. 'And, being a stage magician, he might have had the ability to work the illusion of the murder scene – you yourself have insisted that it was an illusion.'
Still Liebermann did not respond.
'Clearly, the man has no principles.' Rheinhardt's invective became more impassioned. 'Think, for example, of how he was taking advantage of the little seamstress. It's unconscionable. He's hotheaded, and what's more, he hasn't been seen since the night Fraulein Lowenstein was murdered.'
Liebermann pinched his lower lip and grunted, without committing himself.
'What?' asked Rheinhardt, slightly annoyed at his friend's reticence.
'It still doesn't make much sense to me.'
Rheinhardt gestured, urging Liebermann to elaborate.
'We must ask ourselves what motivated Braun,' Liebermann murmured. 'What did he have to gain?'
'Money. He was happy to ruin Roche for money.'
'That's not quite the same as murder. Besides, Fraulein Lowenstein was hardly wealthy.'
'Perhaps it was something to do with the pregnancy – the children.'
'Unscrupulous individuals rarely expend energy worrying about their illegitimate offspring.'
'Perhaps he killed her on the spur of the moment – during one of their arguments?'
'Impossible. An illusion requires planning.'
'Then the motive is as yet unknown – and we'll find out when we catch him.'
'With respect, Oskar, that is no way to proceed.' After a brief pause Liebermann added: 'It lacks elegance. Wishful thinking should play no part in the process that leads to a satisfying solution.'
Rheinhardt suppressed a smile but could not refrain from raising his eyebrows. Liebermann picked up his glass and, disturbing the brandy with a swirl, inhaled the rich, full-bodied fragrance.
'And there's another thing,' he continued. 'Having gone to the trouble of devising such a brilliant illusion, why would Braun then choose to run away like a common street thief? What purpose could that serve, save to draw attention and create suspicion?'
'He had second thoughts – lost confidence in his illusion, decided that it wouldn't fool anyone after all.'
'Surely not.'
'People behave inconsistently,' said Rheinhardt. 'You of all people should appreciate that. We can't always expect to find elegant solutions.'
