The Zurich Conspiracy

and his buddies. I can well imagine that in his present situation he wouldn’t give a damn about a picture book on underground caverns.”
    “They’re all wimps. Walther should be glad he’s rid of Schulmann so elegantly—he’d have made a mess of the whole company. Schulmann and Bourdin wanted to get Walther over a barrel and take over the firm. Even the biggest idiot could have seen that, it was clear as a bell. Now they’re both dead meat. But that’s good—what’s Walther’s problem? He’s got the public’s sympathy. The brilliant self-made man, that’s what they call him. Or even better—the kind owner of a family business. Laugh that one off! The champion of enduring quality in an age of junk,” Pius announced, imitating a TV announcer’s voice. “So what’s his problem? I simply don’t understand how he could leave me up a tree with this project. I was always loyal to him.”
    Josefa found his logic shocking. Walther had always treated Pius well; she had seen it herself. And to shrug off the deaths of two men, one violent, as a lucky break for Walther—that was truly cynical.
    “Do you know how much harm can be done to a public image? The name of Loyn is now associated, first and foremost, with unexplained deaths, not with glamour and exclusiveness and everlasting beauty. And then there’s that bug business. The guests are all asking themselves if their gossip and tittle-tattle were caught on tape. Loyn may never recover.”
    Pius was not impressed. “I strongly disagree with you there. People forget so incredibly easily. They want to forget. Do you remember when the first Gulf War took place? No. In a year Schulmann and Bourdin will be unread footnotes too.”
    “That’s exactly what Claire says.”
    “She’s right. Claire’s looking ahead. She’s doing a lot to keep Loyn on its feet. She’s doing well, your hardworking assistant. Wouldn’t be surprised if she makes it to management someday.”
    Josefa kept her doubts to herself. She was afraid that Walther, who was in a bind, was exploiting Claire unscrupulously and would bring someone in ahead of her when times were better.
    “Claire was the best assistant I ever had,” Josefa reflected. “She always knew what I wanted and often did things before I asked. We were so much on the same wavelength at the end that we could read each other’s thoughts and feelings. Like an old married couple.”
    “Oh, sure, the Rehmer-Fendi duo struck terror into everybody’s heart.” Pius grinned mischievously.
    They were now bumping along on a broad, uneven path that was probably meant for agricultural vehicles. Josefa had gone quiet. She didn’t want Pius to know that she was a bit annoyed with Claire—Claire, who apparently wanted to demonstrate that everything was running very smoothly, much better than during Josefa’s time at Loyn.
    Josefa’s mind kept going back to Pius’s opinions on Walther. Why this chilling lack of understanding? How could he size up the situation so badly? Of course he wanted to see his book in print. And maybe he was more strongly driven by ambition and the desire for recognition than she wanted to believe until now. Everybody fights in his own way for a place in the sun .
    “Did you ever find out who the anonymous e-mails were from?” His question took her by surprise. What made him think of that?
    “Yes. Joe in the Internet café gave me a key tip.” She didn’t want to elaborate, which is why she asked, “Where do you know Joe from?”
    “From our training.” Pius brought the car to a standstill. “We’re here.”
    Josefa looked around everywhere. “Here? Where’s the cave?”

They proceeded systematically and thoroughly. First they packed up the photo archive then the rest of the documents. Zwicker took care of the tape cassettes and sent them immediately to the sound specialist. He’d have his triumph eight hours later, maybe the biggest of his professional career.
    Late that evening, he was sitting with Kündig and the sound technician in front of the mixing console.
    “Is that a copy?” he asked.
    The technician shrugged. “Can’t say without comparing the tapes first. And we’d have to bring in another expert. Then we could get the English words better.”
    “English words?” Kündig and Zwicker looked at each other. “What English words?”
    “The section at the very end,” the technician said.
    “What section?” Kündig leaned over the console as if he could read the