The Zurich Conspiracy

controlling it. “That was self-defense, pure and simple. Thüring’s a criminal, after all; even you must admit that. Drugs, white-collar crime, who knows what. He’d have certainly shot her dead if she hadn’t defended herself. It was his gun that was lying there.”
    “And the lady just happens to be running around with Westek’s gun? Ahhh. Very, very tricky, Bruno. Lots of luck, that’s all I can wish you.”
    “You watch, we’ll wangle it. Your steaks are certainly blacker than my prospects in this trial.”
    “It’s all in the marinade, the marinade.” Paul patted his friend on the shoulder. “But take this hungry wolf away so I can get the meat onto the plate safely.”
    “That is not wolf, that is dog,” the jug-eared boy, who now stood before them, announced. “I have hunger,” he shouted when he saw the sizzling steaks.
    “See ya soon,” Zicchun shouted, dragging his Labrador behind him.
    Paul put an avuncular hand on Sali’s shoulder. “Who’s the hungry wolf here, hmm?”
    The woman with the scarf and the wide pants joined them. “Sali, your kite’s fixed.” She handed him the colorful, shimmering trapezoid, and he ran off, his hunger forgotten.
    Paul grinned at her. “Interesting, isn’t it? All the things you find out on a nice green meadow. You got all that, right?”
    “Yes,” Josefa said, checking the dark brown steaks.
    “You know,” Paul went on, “I wouldn’t put it past him to actually get her off. He’s a good one, that Zicchun.”
    “But the people want blood, Paul. They can’t get at Pius, because he’s probably dead in that cave somewhere. And not at Thüring and his consorts anymore either. So that only leaves Claire.”
    Paul was unimpressed. “In a trial like this one, anything’s possible. Just you wait. And you know, in the final analysis nobody’s going to think she was capable of doing it, the murders and all that. She looks so innocent. Have you gone to see her in jail yet?”
    “No, it’s still too soon. First I’ve got to figure things out for myself. You know, sometimes I think it might have happened to me.”
    “How so? That Claire would have killed you ?”
    “No, no, that’s not what I mean. But sometimes…How quickly you can lose control of yourself when you’re under pressure. I mean, under constant pressure. At times something comes over you that’s stronger than anything else. Feelings you never thought you could have. They come from who knows where and overwhelm you.”
    Paul shook his head in amusement. “My dear, you’re a model of self-control. I’ve seen you really lose it only once, and that was after the meeting with Van Duisen and the cops in the hotel. But that was a tempest in a teapot. Speaking of water, could you please get me something to drink? I can’t leave the grill unmanned.”
    “Yes, or wolves will appear,” Josefa said, shaking off her dark thoughts. “When are we going to get something to eat?”

Josefa dropped Sali off at his apartment; his aunt and uncle had been invited to the picnic but had declined. Then she went to her apartment, took a long, hot shower, and rubbed her body with a subtly scented lotion afterward. She washed and dried her hair, even applied a little eye shadow and lip gloss. She deliberated before choosing a white blouse and a full white skirt, knotting a large, purple silk scarf around her hips to finish it off. She put on a CD on the spur of the moment and danced barefoot over the parquet flooring.
    When the doorbell rang downstairs, she was completely out of breath and her cheeks were flushed. She heard footsteps in the stairwell and soon saw the pronounced shape of a head with fine blonde hair, then two broad shoulders. He finally rounded the last flight of stairs, and she saw his narrow gray eyes darken when she met his gaze. He was still shy in his serious way, and that appealed to her.
    “Are you going out?” he asked, now standing opposite her.
    “Why?”
    “Because you’re so elegantly dressed. And then those sparkling stones, they look good on you,” he remarked, noticing the rubies on her earrings.
    She drew him into her apartment. “To translate: Does that mean you’re happy because I’ve made myself look pretty for you?” She turned a coquettish pirouette. He let his jacket and briefcase slide onto the floor and wrapped her in his arms.
    “And how happy I am,” he said and kissed her. He liked to kiss and kiss often—she hadn’t thought he was like