The Zurich Conspiracy

the right one, so she asked and asked until she wound up at Ethology. Yes, a friendly woman in a green apron said, you’ve come to the right place for behavioral research, but we don’t know a Helene Meyer. She directed her to the administration building. A young secretary there entered Helene’s name in her computer and did in fact find her. “Here, that must be her. She’s on a research project for alpine swifts, right?” She picked up the phone.
    “I’m sorry. Helene Meyer is out on her forestry program for school kids,” she said, hanging the receiver up. Josefa looked so crestfallen that the secretary added that Frau Meyer would surely end her open-air lesson at the Kohlerwald Woodland School Center where the school kids usually left their bags. She described the location of the school lodge, which was fortunately within the city limits, and Josefa thanked the young woman for her trouble. She returned to her car as quickly as the icy ground permitted and turned the heater on high because her hands felt ice cold in spite of her wool gloves.
    Luckily she located the forest road more easily than she’d expected. A large sign clearly identified the wooden school building in the clearing. A small pickup truck with the tailgate down was parked in front of the rustic building. The lodge door was unlocked, and Josefa went into a room that looked like the kitchen. A pot of steaming water was on a stove, but there was nobody to be seen.
    “Hello!” she called, but received no answer. She called again, louder. Nothing. The door to the adjacent room was unlocked. Paper towels, stuffed animals, bird nesting boxes, and orange tarps were piled on trestle tables. Bright yellow raincoats made of heavy synthetic material hung on the wall. Lockers took up what space was left.
    “Hello!” Still no reply. Josefa went back to the kitchen, sat down on a wooden bench, and deliberated. At least it was more or less warm in here. Somebody must have turned on the heat. The truck by the door, the unlocked building, the steaming water—that was reassuring. She saw a wooden shelf on the wall and found some cups, a can of instant coffee, some condensed milk, and a box of sugar cubes. Josefa shook some coffee into a cup, added sugar, hot water from the pot, and milk, and then searched for a spoon. The rough-hewn wooden drawer was hard to pull out and even harder to shut. Josefa pushed with all her might until the drawer suddenly gave way and slammed shut.
    She stirred her coffee and warmed her hands on the hot cup. All of a sudden she heard a noise. She pricked up her ears and listened. There it was again, coming from a corner somewhere. She ran into the next room. “Hello!” she shouted. “Hello!” Now she heard footsteps, as if someone was climbing a staircase. They came nearer. A door was banged open and slammed shut. Somebody was in the room, she could sense it. But she didn’t see anyone. There must be a pathway hidden by the lockers.
    “Good God, you scared the hell out of me!” Helene exclaimed, staring at Josefa dumbfounded. “What are you doing here?”
    “At the university…they told me that…you…were here,” Josefa stammered as if in apology. Helene walked past her into the kitchen. “Man, I was thinking it was something else! I heard noises up here, a loud bang.”
    “The door was open. Anybody could just waltz in.”
    “Nobody, but nobody just walks into this place. Nobody comes out here.” Helene looked around the room.
    “Now I am here, and you can go ahead and say hello,” Josefa complained.
    “First I have to wash my hands; I’d rather not touch you like this. Where’s that soap?” She glanced at Josefa’s cup. “Can you make me a coffee too? Black, blacker, and blacker still.”
    Josefa filled the pot with cold water again and put it on the stove. Then she washed her spoon and piled a huge amount of coffee into a second cup. Meanwhile Helene was drying her hands that were red from the cold water. Josefa noticed that her friend had a bandana on, which made her look like a guerilla fighter. Helene gave Josefa a quick hug and said, “Happy New Year, my dear. What were you up to on New Year’s Eve?”
    “Oh, that was so long ago I don’t remember anymore,” Josefa said honestly. She poured Helene’s coffee and handed it to her. She wanted to sit down again, but Helene shook her head. “I’ve got something I have to do. Bring your cup.”
    “Helene, I must have a talk with you. You