“Frau Claudia was my friend, too. But she admitted to me that she herself had a number of emotional issues. In fact, Thomas, I’d hazard that this entire family has issues.”
Thomas said nothing to that.
Gage wondered if Thomas might have ever been involved with Claudia. He almost asked, but stopped short.
“The answer is no,” Thomas said, obviously reading Gage. “Our connection was friendly, nothing more. My wife has been frigid for years…for a long time…she changed. Claudia was always there for me, but that’s where it ended—at friendship.”
“Good luck with your decision.”
“Thank you. I may want to seek more of your advice about my retirement. I’m at a bit of a loss over what to do.”
Not knowing what else to say, Gage nodded and walked away. Back in the house, he had a text waiting from Katja. She asked him to come over at 7:30 with an appetite. He took a shower and watched the news, not hearing a word that was said.
His mind was fully occupied by the confrontation he knew was coming.
* * *
Katja greeted Gage at the door, inviting him in with a flourish. He smelled food. After closing the door, she asked where Sheriff was. He told her he’d left the dog at the house.
“Aw, I love his visits,” she pouted. “Maybe get him after we eat?”
“Yeah, maybe.”
Satisfied, Katja took Gage by the hand, leading him to the dining room where silver candles were burning. She’d decorated the table with matching silver placemats. The utensils were wrapped in black napkins and also on each placemat were a set of shiny onyx chopsticks with silver grip ends. In the center of the table, on a large decorative platter, were numerous varieties of sushi roll, sashimi and nigiri. She lifted a white cloth, revealing steaming edamame. That’s what he’d smelled. In a clay pot was what Gage assumed to be sake wine, along with a large bottle of Pellegrino for him.
“I sent out for it. I hope you don’t mind,” she said, apologetically while taking her seat. “Sorry, I’m not much of a cook and I’m definitely no sushi chef.”
Gage smiled politely as she asked him to sit.
“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, reading his expression.
“Sort of.”
“I thought you’d be hungry. You told me you love sushi.”
“I do. But…”
“Something on your mind?”
“Why don’t we eat, then we’ll talk about it?”
“You don’t know me very well,” Katja said, shaking her head. “Let’s hear it.”
Gage lifted the platter and proffered it to her.
“No. Tell me.”
“Katja, let’s eat first.”
“Absolutely not. I want to hear what has you so concerned.” She wagged her index finger, aiming at his eyes. “I can read you.”
Her tone was rather harsh, along with her expression. Her dark brows were furrowed and her breathing was choppy. This concerned Gage—guilty people often lash out—but he forced his mind not to jump to any conclusions.
“As you know, I went to see the pathologist today.”
“And?”
“Before your father was injected with potassium chloride, he was mutilated. The mutilation was…how do I say this?...consistent with what might happen to a sexual predator in a revenge scenario.”
Katja flattened her palms on the table. “How was he mutilated?”
“You really want to know?”
“I asked, didn’t I?”
“His penis was severed from his body.”
She blinked a few times and looked away, her voice a whisper. “That’s why mother cleaned up the bed.”
“I suppose so.”
“Who else knows about this?”
“No one. Well, your mom knew. I’m pretty sure Olga knew. The pathologist knows. Your mother hid it from everyone else.”
Katja nodded knowingly. “Like I said, Mother was very resourceful. What about the ambulance paramedics?”
“She had the doctor drive the ambulance.”
“What’d I tell you?” Katja asked. “Whoever heard of a doctor driving an ambulance? That woman could orchestrate just about anything.”
He nodded his agreement.
She stared at him. “What?” she finally asked.
“As I said, this is the type of thing that’s done by someone who’s been sexually assaulted.”
Utter silence followed—for at least thirty seconds.
Then…
“You think it was me, don’t you?”
“I didn’t say that.”
She crossed her arms, nodding once. “You think I seduced you and fucked you and fed you and spent time with you, all just to throw you off my scent.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“No, Katja, but it doesn’t look good.”
“Doesn’t look good? So, I’m guilty,” she stated. “To you, I’m guilty.”
“What if it were Ina?” he asked.
“It wasn’t me, and it wasn’t Ina.”
“What I learned today is almost certainly what made your mother believe it was one of you.”
“Our mother didn’t even know us, Gage. She hasn’t ever known us. And even though we’re not close, Ina and I never lie to each other. She wouldn’t do something like this and lie about it to me.” Katja’s plum colored fingernail tapped the table. “But you don’t think it was Ina. You think it was me.”
“I never said that.”
“But you never said it wasn’t me, either.” Katja stood and walked into the kitchen. When she came back, she had a medium size plastic container. Using the tongs, she filled the container with sushi and sashimi. On the side, she placed edamame. Then she took the container and the unopened bottle of Pellegrino, setting them both on the table in the entry hall.
“Take your food and leave.” Katja raced up the stairs and slammed the door to her bedroom.
Gage stood at the bottom of the stairs. He almost went upstairs to attempt to talk some sense into Katja, then he thought better of it.
Her actions certainly didn’t seem to be those of a guilty person. Innocent people lash out, too. That noted, she could be attempting to manipulate him—to make him feel guilty by
