‘Ah yes — Lissi and Toni?’
‘Yes, that’s them.’
Fraulein Sykora fell silent and she looked around the room. She then said: ‘Do you pay for it?’
Surprised, Rheinhardt drew back a little.
‘Pay for what, exactly?’
‘Information.’
‘Well, that depends.’
‘You do pay, though, don’t you? How much?’
‘When citizens provide us with serviceable information, it is our practice in the security office to reward them — sometimes — with a small gratuity.’
‘We used to talk,’ said Fraulein Sykora. ‘Adele and me — we were good friends.’
‘And what did you used to talk about?’
‘Things … Rainmayr.’
Pryska Sykora pursed her lips and rubbed her thumb and forefinger together.
Rheinhardt found two kronen in his pocket and placed them on his desk.
‘Let us assume that I am interested in what you have to tell me,’ said Rheinhardt. ‘But you will have to be a little more forthcoming.’
Fraulein Sykora nodded.
‘Adele was angry with Rainmayr. She wanted more work and he wouldn’t give it to her. She used to curse him. She even threatened him.’
‘How did she threaten him?’
‘He’s an artist. You know what artists are like with their models.’
‘Fraulein Sykora, are you implying that Herr Rainmayr was intimate with Adele Zeiler?’
‘He had his way with her, yes. When she was younger. And she told him she’d go to the police if he didn’t give her more work.’
‘Do you have any proof of this?’
‘It’s what she said to me.’
‘When?’
‘She was always saying it — I can’t remember when.’
Fraulein Sykora leaned forward and picked up the coins. She examined them in her open palm.
‘This isn’t very much, inspector.’
‘When did you last see Adele?’
‘Friday night.’
‘Where?’
‘We bumped into each other on Lange Gasse.’
‘Had she been to see — or was she going to see — Rainmayr?’
‘She was going to see someone else. A gentleman friend.’
‘Where?’
‘A private dining room.’
‘Which one?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Did she mention the name of this gentleman friend — or say anything about him?’
‘No. She just said she was meeting him and that he’d promised to give her a gift.’
‘What kind of gift?’
Pryska Sykora shrugged.
Rheinhardt picked up his pen and made some notes.
‘I know other things … about Adele.’
The girl rattled the coins in her clenched fist.
‘Where do you live, Fraulein Sykora?’
‘Above Kirchmann’s Coffee House.’
‘With your family?’
‘No.’
‘May I ask … how do you pay for your lodgings?’
‘I don’t. Herr Kirchmann said I could stay in the attic room if I …’ she paused and diverted her gaze before adding ‘… helped out in the kitchen.’
Rheinhardt doubted that the arrangement between landlord and lodger consisted of such an uncomplicated exchange of alms for labour.
‘Tell me,’ said Rheinhardt. ‘How long had you been acquainted with Adele Zeiler?’
‘About a year.’
‘And how did you get to know her?’
‘She used to come into Kirchmann’s with some of the other Rainmayr girls. When it wasn’t busy I’d join them.’ Fraulein Sykora put the coins in her dress pocket and said: ‘I really thought I’d get more than this.’
Rheinhardt scrutinised his guest.
‘How old were you when Herr Kirchmann first offered you somewhere to live?’
Fraulein Sykora frowned.
‘Look, I came here to tell you about Adele and Rainmayr.’
‘If you’ve been living at Kirchmann’s for at least a year you must have been rather young when you moved in.’
‘Not that young.’
‘How old are you?’
‘Twenty.’
Rheinhardt smiled.
‘Well, Fraulein,’ said Rheinhardt, ‘you must be a favourite of the gods of youthfulness. Twenty, indeed. Where do your family live?’
‘I came here to talk about Adele and Rainmayr!’ Pryska Sykora shouted, stamping her foot on the floor. ‘Not about me! But if you’re not interested …’ She got up abruptly and turned to leave.
‘Fraulein Sykora?’
Rheinhardt placed another coin on the desk. Pryska Sykora snatched it up and went to get her coat from the stand. Then she opened the door and barked at Haussmann: ‘Take me down, I’m leaving.’
Haussmann craned his head around the door jamb and sought permission from his superior.
‘Yes,’ said Rheinhardt. ‘The interview is over.’ Then he called out, ‘Good afternoon, Fraulein Sykora. You have been most helpful.’
12
MISS AMELIA LYDGATE HAD come to recognise that her knowledge of music was deficient. In most cities this would not have mattered; however, in Vienna the inability to engage in intelligent conversation about music was a significant social handicap. She was determined to rectify this deficiency and had asked Liebermann to recommend some concerts. He responded by offering to take her to a piano recital at the Bosendorfer Saal. On going to the venue to buy tickets he discovered a programme that seemed peculiarly apposite, given Amelia’s temperament and nationality. It consisted largely of the
