“That doesn’t matter, Gage. I don’t work with my chief rival, but I could certainly benefit by his absence.”
They spoke for a few more minutes. After Gage hung up, he stared at his meal but never ate another bite. Despite the blistering speed of the ICE train, the journey back to Frankfurt was long and tedious.
* * *
That evening, Gage sat in the rear of the library, staring out one of the back windows. The house seemed extremely quiet without Sheriff, who was spending the night with Thomas. Due to the short duration of the Berlin meeting, Gage had gotten home much earlier than he’d anticipated. It was just past 7 P.M. and he was keeping an eye on the cookhouse. When Ursula emerged to go home, he walked outside and met her before she reached her car.
“Gage, hi,” she said, surprised.
“Didn’t mean to scare you.”
“Do you want some food? I was getting ready to leave but if you want me to stay and make you something, I can. I just need to call my mother and let her know that I’ll be late.”
“No, that’s not necessary. I just got in from traveling. I’ll probably make a sandwich.”
“I don’t mind.”
“Thanks, but no.”
She lit the cigarette she’d already had in her hand. “Then, can I help you with something?”
“Maybe. I have a couple of questions.”
She stared.
“It’s about Herr Vogel, and a business associate of his.”
“Okay.”
“Ursula, I need you to be completely honest with me.”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” she asked, sounding mildly offended.
“Ursula, do you know who Rainer Schulz is?”
“Of course, I do.”
“Have you ever met him?”
“Briefly, yes, although I wasn’t formally introduced. I once served him and Karl a meal.”
“I understand you may have heard them having an argument.”
“Ina told you that.”
“Did they have an argument the night you served them a meal?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
She gestured to the manor. “In the formal dining room.”
“Where was Claudia?”
“I don’t remember. She wasn’t home.”
“What were they arguing about?”
Ursula dragged on her cigarette. The lighting from the cookhouse cast a severe shadow on one side of her face. She seemed coy. “What do I get for telling you?”
“C’mon, Ursula, just answer.”
“Seriously, why?” She swept her cigarette toward the manor house. “And why are you still working here, anyway?”
“I’m trying to help the family settle the estate.”
“And this stuff about Rainer Schulz matters how?”
“Ursula, you’re an employee of the estate. This is a pertinent question. Please, answer it.”
“Why is it pertinent?”
“Because I deem it pertinent.”
“Are you threatening me?” she asked, mock-amused.
“No. I’m asking you as a personal favor to answer the question.”
“Personal, huh?”
“If that’s what it takes to get you to answer the question.”
Ursula knotted up her lips. “Okay, since it’s personal, you have to reciprocate, personally.”
“Ursula…”
“Friday night, one of my favorite bands is playing at Nachtleben, a bar in Frankfurt. Come see them with me.”
“A date?”
“Yes, a date—to see a fantastic band.”
Gage didn’t know what to say. “Okay, assuming my schedule allows for it.”
“Nope. You have to give me your word,” she answered, taking a drag before crushing the hardly smoked cigarette into an urn. “Your word for my answer.”
“Fine,” Gage breathed. “Friday night.”
“You’ll meet me there at ten, the Nachtleben, Frankfurt.”
“Meet you at ten on Friday. Nachtleben. Frankfurt. Done. Now, please.”
She shrugged. “Yeah, they argued.”
“Do you remember what it was about?”
“I tried to eavesdrop,” she said unapologetically. “It was something about money and how it should be split.”
“Was that it?”
“They were angry. I mean really angry. Talking loud. Cursing. I went in when they got heated—you know, to kind of break the tension?—but Karl sent me away. That’s why I listened in. I couldn’t help but be curious. Karl was extremely upset.”
“Then what?”
“From what I heard, Rainer told Karl they were done. He said something about wiring him the money and never talking to him again.”
“Wiring who the money?”
“Rainer told Karl to wire him the money.”
Gage nodded his understanding. “Was that it?”
“That’s all I remember. Rainer left right afterward.”
“Did you ask Karl about it?”
“Yes, but he wouldn’t talk about it. He was angry for days. He had his first big heart attack not too long after that.”
“Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“That’s all I know,” Ursula replied.
“Can I ask you one more thing?”
“Maybe.”
“Were you involved with Karl Vogel?”
Ursula was quiet for a lengthy period of time. Finally, with averted eyes, she said, “No, you can’t ask me that.”
“I think you just answered.”
She opened her car door. “Don’t forget our date.”
“Friday night—I won’t forget. You’re coming to the funeral tomorrow?”
“Just the funeral,” Ursula said. “I wouldn’t be welcome at the graveside, anyway.” She slid into her car and drove away.
Gage stood outside in the cold for a while, breathing in the crisp air, hoping for some sort of clarity to this puzzle that seemed foggier by the day.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
At 3 P.M. on the following day, Claudia Saskia Thalheimer Vogel was laid to rest at the Stadtkirche Unserer Lieben Frau church in Friedberg. Despite her advanced age and lack of close friends, approximately 2,000 people turned out to mourn the Vogel matriarch’s passing. Because the church was filled to capacity, the public relations firm that had been hired by the Vogel daughters hastily put together a closed circuit viewing in the adjacent church annex. Even with the additional seating, several hundred mourners stood outside on the gray and blustery day. After the funeral, there was a private graveside service that Gage attended per Katja’s request.
As she’d predicted, Ursula was not there.
At this far more intimate gathering, approximately 25 mourners sat around Claudia’s coffin.
