Gage had to give the man credit—that was definitely an honest answer. “I appreciate your candor. Like you, I’d like to think neither of the girls had anything to do with the death of their father. I’m going to attempt to help them.”
“I’ll do my best to get the blood sample for you, and I’ll try to help with anything else you need.” The Ministerpräsident produced a business card. On the back, he wrote a number and handed the card to Gage. “That’s my personal mobile phone. If you need anything, ring me. I’ll be calling each of the daughters to convey my sympathies. You have my word, I’ll keep the nature of today’s conversation, and that of previous conversations with Frau Vogel, strictly to myself.”
“Thank you, as will I.”
Just as he was standing to leave, Boden halted himself and sat back down. “Might I ask you one more thing of a more personal nature?”
“Yes.”
“You seem extremely uncomfortable, Mister Hartline, like a squeamish person being made to watch a gory surgery.”
“Is it that obvious?”
“I’ve made a living studying people. Before my life as a politician, I was a public prosecutor.”
“And before that?”
“That was my first job after school. Well, first real job.”
“What was your first not-real job?”
Boden chuckled. “I was a substandard footballer for a few years.”
“Substandard?”
“Oh…quite.”
“Where did you play?”
“Würzburg.”
“For the Kickers?” Gage asked, recalling their name from when he lived in Germany.
Boden nodded.
“Then you were far from substandard. I could tell you’re an athlete.”
“We played in Oberliga Bayern, the third league. It’s the equivalent to minor league baseball in the U.S. And I was substandard—ask anyone who saw me play; they’ll agree.”
After sharing a chuckle, Gage turned serious. “To answer your question, yes, I’m extremely uncomfortable in my role, and also a bit sad over what has happened.”
“I join you in your sadness.” The Ministerpräsident shook Gage’s hand and told him he’d be in touch very soon.
For now, despite the fact that he’d admitted to being self-serving, Gage marked Michael Boden down as an ally.
* * *
The rest of the day was quiet and uneventful. That evening, in an effort to reintroduce some normalcy to his system, Gage donned athletic gear and went for a run. Weeks before, he’d used the computer to create a 6-mile route, and that’s what he ran tonight. He felt sluggish and fatigued, but by the end of the run he felt much better about himself simply for the activity. Better, until he saw Katja lingering in the courtyard in front of the manor house. She wore her typical black leggings and a heavy gray sweater. Gage slowed to a walk several hundred meters away and approached Katja, catching his breath.
“Hi, Katja. How’re you holding up?”
“Where’s your dog?”
“Inside. He’s worn out.”
“We need to talk.”
Gage put his hands on his hips and continued to breathe deeply. “Okay, about what?”
“Why was Michael Boden here?”
“To pay his respects.”
“To you?”
“Hey…I share your surprise. I asked if he’d rather meet with you and Ina, but he declined.”
She snorted. “I bet he did. He’s a piece of shit.”
Gage pulled his head back. “That’s a pretty strong statement, Katja. What makes you say that?”
“He traded political favors for influence with both of my parents.”
“He’s a successful politician. Isn’t that how it usually works?”
“I have no use for him.”
“I kinda picked up on that.”
“What else did he want?”
“Nothing that I’m aware of.”
“Don’t lie to me. He wouldn’t dare waste a second of his precious time to simply offer condolences.”
Gage shrugged. “He didn’t ask for anything.”
“So…what?...you’re in with him, now?” Katja asked.
“I feel like I’m missing something. What aren’t you telling me?”
“He’s no good, Gage. If he didn’t ask you for something, he will.”
“Noted. Anything else?”
She turned and walked away.
“Katja, hang on. I have a question.”
“What is it?” she asked, stopping without turning.
“Have you and your sister discussed arrangements?”
She turned. “A funeral?”
“Yes, and visitation, too, assuming that’s the custom here in Germany.”
“No, and we won’t, either.”
“What’d you do after your father died?”
“Mother handled it.”
“Did you attend?”
She tilted her head as if he were an idiot. “Of course I did. But I’m not arranging a funeral—and good luck getting Ina to do it. Given mother’s restrictive will, I’m not certain we could pay for it, anyway.” Then it seemed an idea had struck her. “Why don’t you do it? It’s obvious mother trusted you more than she did us.”
Gage glowered at Katja. His patience was gone. He wanted to lash out.
“Say it,” she dared.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” he asked in a louder tone than normal. “And I mean both of you. This entire situation with your family makes no sense and is, dare I say, disturbing. What’d your parents do to you two that was so wrong? And why’d your mother have such animosity toward you two? At least have the guts to level with me because, honestly, I’m sick of all this bullshit.”
“You don’t really want to know. You just want all of us to be nice and sweet while you fuck us over from our inheritance.”
“Not true and you know it.” He snapped his fingers. “Answer my questions. C’mon Katja, have the guts.”
She stood there, chest rising and falling.
“Answer me.”
Despite the dark, he could tell she was
