gratitude in the form of a monthly 10 percent levy, paid in cash and delivered by hand to an associate of Schmidt’s named Knabl. When Herr Linser first balked at this suggestion, Schmidt reminded him that reports that had been mislaid could also be found again. Herr Linser apologized for his bad manners, begged to be excused, and promised the councillor that he would never take his patronage for granted again.
Sitting opposite Schmidt were two of his most trusted “business associates,” Haas and Oeggl. Both of them were wearing badly fitting suits in which they looked distinctly uncomfortable-Haas in particular, who kept on running his finger around the inside of his shirt collar as if it were too small and were stopping him from breathing.
“More wine, gentlemen?” asked Schmidt.
Haas and Oeggl both nodded, and Schmidt replenished their glasses. Then he emptied onto the table the contents of an envelope that they had given him earlier. It contained a wad of dirty banknotes and an assortment of silver and bronze coins.
“Is that all?” said Schmidt.
“They said they didn’t have any more,” said Haas, wiping his mouth on his sleeve.
“Well, they’re lying-obviously.”
“We done everything we could,” said Oeggl. His speech was slurred, although not because of the wine. He always spoke like that.
“Come now,” said Schmidt, lighting a cigar. “I’m sure two experienced gentlemen like yourselves could be a great deal more persuasive if you put your minds to it.”
“Well, we could,” said Haas. “But…”
“But what?”
“It’s risky. Sometimes it’s difficult to judge. You know? How far you can go?”
Haas rubbed the scar on his cheek. It looked a little inflamed.
“Oh, don’t you worry about that,” said Schmidt benevolently. “Do whatever you think is necessary. If something untoward occurs-well, I won’t blame you. Accidents happen.”
“With respect, your honor,” said Oeggl, “if accidents happen, then the police get involved.”
Schmidt shook his head.
“How many times must I repeat myself? That really isn’t a problem. I’m on exceptionally familiar terms with the boys at the Grosse Sperlgasse station. They won’t ask any questions, I can assure you. So… next time, do whatever it takes. Indeed, I would go as far as to say that perhaps the time has come to make an example of someone.” Schmidt picked up the coins and let them drop onto the table. “I mean to say, this will hardly keep us in the style to which we have become accustomed, eh, gentlemen? Do whatever is necessary!”
Part Two
26
Anna Katzer was wearing a white blouse with cuffs made of Valenciennes lace and a purple crepe de chine skirt. Purple was her color. Men always noticed her more when she was wearing purple. The effect was very reliable, so much so that Anna was inclined to invest the color with magical powers. It was of some significance, therefore, that Anna had chosen to wear her favored hue for her guest: Gabriel Kusevitsky.
As soon as Gabriel entered the parlor, it was evident that the color had worked its spell. The young doctor was clearly overwhelmed. He made a discreetly flattering remark, but his wide-eyed expression declared the true extent of his appreciation.
Anna remembered what Olga had said about the Kusevitsky brothers: intellectuals, too preoccupied with their work to be interested in the society of fashionable young ladies. Well, she thought, it seems that this Kusevitsky brother is not yet completely lost to the brotherhood of coffeehouse philosophers.
Anna had invited Gabriel to tea immediately after their first meeting. The invitation had been subsequently repeated, and accepted, on three further occasions. Olga had advised Anna against appearing overly anxious for his company. Men, she had said, are inclined to desire more strongly that which is withheld. However, on reflection Anna had chosen to ignore her friend’s counsel. Gabriel Kusevitsky was an earnest fellow, and would probably find the stratagems of courtship-the games and ploys-confusing, childish, and tedious. She would wear purple, and do nothing more.
Once again, Anna talked about her charity work. She noticed how intently Gabriel listened. He sat very still, as she thought a psychiatrist should, but occasionally raised a finger to his lips. His hands were delicate, a little like those of a boy. Another woman might have described those hands as fragile or effeminate, but Anna considered them sensitive. Anna spoke more seriously than usual. She made fewer flippant remarks and was altogether less girlish. Without Olga there, it was easier to present herself as a more substantial person. In many respects she felt more comfortable in this new guise. As she spoke, somewhere at the back of her mind a certain sentiment was finding quiet expression: a doctor’s wife should conduct herself with dignity. It was shocking that she should be thinking such a thing, at such an early stage of acquaintance. But she had always imagined that she would marry a doctor. Rather a doctor any day than one of the young businessmen her father was always asking to lunch.
After the tea had been drunk and the cakes consumed, Anna asked Gabriel what he intended to do after completing his research.
“I will apply for a clinical post-within my discipline-at the General Hospital or one of the private institutions. However, I have always harbored a wish to make a contribution greater than that which can be accomplished through the practice of medicine alone.”
“Isn’t it enough to heal the sick? I can’t think of anything more worthwhile or personally satisfying.”
“Medicine is a great force for good, but it cannot cure all ills.”
“All ills?” Anna repeated.
Gabriel paused and considered his companion. He seemed to be making some kind of assessment. He seemed to be searching out an essential part of her person, a secret corner. His eyes narrowed behind his thick spectacle lenses, and Anna felt a little unnerved.
“There is much wrong in the world,” he said softly. Then, after a long pause, he added, “And I want to do something about it.”
“Do you have political ambitions?”
“Yes, of a kind.”
“The town hall? Parliament?”
The young doctor smiled. “You wanted me to interpret one of your dreams, but now you seem to be more interested in mine.”
Anna blushed but quickly regained her composure.
“Yes,” she said, flashing her eyes at Gabriel. “I am interested in your dreams.”
This time it was the doctor’s turn to blush. The frankness of her honest affection was unexpected. Even more so was the soft touch of her hand as it landed gently on his own.
27
The adjutant entered Schmidt’s office.
“Councillor.” He bowed and clicked his heels. “Hofrat Holzknecht would like to see you at once.”
Schmidt looked up from his papers.
“I’ll be along in a few minutes.”
