The Zurich Conspiracy

she uttered, more tentatively than she intended.
    “Frau Rehmer, we’d like some information from you concerning the Werner Schulmann case. You probably know he was found dead. We’re working to clear up the cause of death. Could you come by tomorrow?”
    “Yes,” Josefa agreed, befuddled.
    “How would nine AM be, at the Police Department, City Hall?”
    “Later would be better, maybe around two. I have some appointments in the morning.”
    Franz Kündig agreed and gave her his office address and phone number. Josefa hung up and noticed Sali still kneeling in front of the basket of newspapers.
    “You are a good king,” she praised, stroking his hair.
    Sali stood up.
    “But there is also bad king, wants to kill Christ Child.”
    “He wants to kill him? Yes, Herod is a bad king. But he’ll never find the Baby Jesus.”
    “No, never find. Josefa runs quick away. Josefa scared.”
    “ Josef runs away, Josef, the father. Josefa, that’s me. Josef is a man. But you’re right, Josef runs away quick so Herod can’t find the child.”
    Sali nodded vigorously. “Josefa take child and wife and donkey and goes away. Josefa scared.”
    She picked up the script for the Christmas pageant. “Yes, Josefa scared,” she said quietly.
    That evening she went to the movies to get her mind off things, but she only half watched the film. Preoccupied by her impending talk with the police, she rehearsed the conversation over and over in her head. The light was blinking on the answering machine when she arrived home.
    “Herbert told me you’d called.” The first message was from Verena. “I was at the clinic, and we had a team meeting that evening. I spoke with Anita Schulmann again today. She’s his mother, you know, and I’m a friend of hers. It’s just awful. The police are assuming it’s murder.” Her stepmother paused. “Anita says Werner was poisoned, they don’t know who or why. You can imagine the state she’s in. He was their only son. You certainly wouldn’t have wished that on him, would you? I don’t know anything more than that. Call later.”
    The second message was from Pius.
    “I hope you’re doing well, Josefa,” he began warmly. “You’ve surely heard the latest. Who’d have thought it…Josefa, I’d like to see you again. I miss you. We all miss you. Do call soon.”
    She listened to his message three times. Then she crawled into bed with a funny, fluttery feeling in her belly.
    At two o’clock sharp the next day, Josefa was standing in front of the city hall unit of the Criminal Investigation Department—a proud, classical building, newly renovated at great expense. Cluttered with out-of-date office furniture, a faded Pharmacist Association calendar hanging on the wall, and a couple of dusty house plants making a futile attempt to burst apart their much-too-small pots, Office 15A appeared utterly untouched by the costly improvements evident elsewhere in the building. Did Sebastian Sauter work in a cell like this too? Josefa wondered.
    Franz Kündig introduced himself and then pressed “Record” on the tape recorder. The detective had a mustache, and his hair was brushed up boldly, above his forehead. He was easily over forty, Josefa guessed. A second officer sat opposite her over in the corner, and she couldn’t help notice that he regarded her curiously. What’s he thinking? Maybe that poison is considered to be a woman’s murder weapon. Josefa’s palms were sweating, like at the dentist’s before the drilling started.
    “How long did you know Werner Schulmann?” Kündig began the interrogation.
    Josefa stared at the tape recorder. She could see wheels turning through the little window.
    “I met him some years ago, through our business. He was at Loyn for about two and a half months before I left the company. That is, I only worked with him directly for two months since I was on a three-week vacation when he started in July.”
    “Did you resign?”
    “Yes.”
    “Did that have anything to do with Herr Schulmann?”
    Josefa was prepared for this question. “Only indirectly. It was not clear which were my responsibilities and which were not. Herr Schulmann never gave me a clear job description, though I wanted one. I couldn’t put up with that. I like terms to be clearly spelled out.”
    “Did you ever talk with Herr Schulmann about business matters?”
    Josefa looked at the officer in irritation. “Of course we talked business. I don’t understand your