The Zurich Conspiracy

death.”
    “How do you know that?” Josefa felt as if the pew were catching on fire beneath her. Vals. Where Helene always used to go hunting with her father.
    “I read the papers, my dear.”
    How did I miss it? She just couldn’t sit still any longer. She tugged at Paul’s sleeve in irritation. “Come on, they’re about to lock up. We’ll have to admire the Chagall windows another time.” She took the opportunity to deliver a short prayer up to heaven. A prayer for Helene.
    “Dreaming up murder scenarios in a church, that’s not exactly pious,” she whispered to Paul on the way out.
    He waved his hand. “We went in fighting and came out in peace. If that doesn’t please him up there!”
    Sometimes it was maddeningly difficult to prove Paul wrong.

“I cannot give you any personal information about Sali Emini,” Dr. Derungs said, resolutely. “You are not a relative, so therefore you have no right to any data on him.”
    Josefa leaned back in her chair, annoyed. Duri Derungs, acting director of Zurich’s Medical and Psychological Services for Schools, was a strikingly handsome man with a mellifluous voice. But what he was spouting at the moment did not soothe her in any way. It only took a few minutes for her to label him arrogant, but Josefa suppressed her annoyance because he had made the time to talk to her.
    “Perhaps you misunderstand. I only want to be able to help Sali more,” she began.
    Derungs cut her off at once. “I don’t know what kind of help you mean, Frau Rehmer, but Sali receives psychological, therapeutic help from our trained experts.”
    It cost Josefa some effort to remain patient. “Sali is obviously a traumatized child. What I don’t understand—and you can generalize about war-damaged children if you like—what I don’t understand is why Sali presents no aggressiveness or other striking behavioral patterns. What’s going on inside? How can I help him overcome his war trauma?”
    The psychologist frowned. His answer came very slowly, as if he were addressing a schoolgirl. “These children react in quite different ways. Some become depressed, others conform too readily, many display destructive behavior or constantly rebel. But many withdraw completely, emotionally.”
    Josefa did not relent. “That’s precisely what worries me, that Sali is outwardly so completely normal. But he’s experienced war, and his parents were killed. He never talks about them. I don’t know if I should even mention his parents.”
    Dr. Derungs leaned forward and folded his slender hands. “May I ask you something, Frau Rehmer? Why are you interested in the lad?”
    Josefa blinked in annoyance. What sort of a question was that? “We live in the same building, and his uncle has asked me several times for help filling out forms for the school or with Sali’s new glasses. I often take him on outings—with his family’s permission of course.”
    “Do you have any children? Are you married?”
    “No to both. Why do you ask?” Her voice became a touch sharper.
    “You like the boy, do you not?”
    “Of course. But…What are you trying to say, Herr Derungs?”
    “Simply give the child some attention, let him feel that you like to be with him. But do not attempt any therapy with him. We’ll take care of that.”
    Josefa, now incensed, shook her head, “No, you’ve got the totally wrong idea, that’s not my point at all—”
    “Sali has been fortunate in the midst of misfortune,” Dr. Derungs continued. “He has an uncle and aunt who lost two sons in the war and are giving him loving care. And he has a large clan that still exists to some extent. Your assistance, Frau Rehmer, is certainly valuable and welcome to his family. But you should prepare for the time”—now the psychologist was looking her straight in the eye—“when Sali will vanish from your sight, sooner or later.”
    “What ever is that supposed to mean?” Josefa no longer made any effort to be polite.
    “His family could be sent back to Kosovo after the war, for example, or return of their own free will.”
    Now Josefa leaned forward as well. “Herr Derungs, I must tell you frankly that I do not see where you’re going with this. Do you have to deal all the time with people who question your work with these children?” She could smell his aftershave: Givenchy pour Homme. Bourdin had used it too.
    “No, it’s not that. I would just like to point out that one day you will have to leave Sali, and that