Chapter 10 Chapter nine

Pamela Schroeder in one of her son's tracksuits. "My pajamas are not suitable for a group camp like this," she said.I didn't quite understand what she said. She grinned sarcastically. "I usually sleep naked," she explained. No sooner had I laid down next to Kitty than she began to snore. Scarlatt groaned. "It's horrible. Is she always like this?" I assured her that Kitty had slept properly the previous two nights, and had not made a sound. "Turn her around," Scarlatte ordered, "she should be silent." I gave it a try.But Kitty turned sharply and returned to her familiar supine position again, snoring again.

Scarlatt stood at the window.She suddenly put on a heavy coat with a hood, picked up a cigarette and a lighter, and said she was going out for a smoke. I looked out the window into the dark courtyard.A cigarette glows red there.Scarlatt headed towards his destination there, and after a while, two "fireflies" started walking towards a remote bench. The person she met could only be Witold.Do the two just want to smoke a lot and avoid scolding from their non-smoking roommates, or do they want to do something together?It would be nice if I could hear what they were saying. Five minutes later, my patience was at its limit.Here Kitty was snoring non-stop, and Witold was sitting on the bench with the red-haired witch.I put a jacket over my tracksuit, socks and room slippers over my bare feet, and a scarf around my neck.Autumn nights are damp and cool, though not very cold.

Kitty did not notice that I too had left the room.The stairs to the ground floor were wide, and I groped my way down without turning on the light, and tiptoed along the open door into the courtyard.My heart was overjoyed.I'm about to re-engage in Witold's private life, and I'm going to hear those words and get an idea of ​​who that was.It is also quite possible, of course, that their conversation was entirely superficial. There are small gravel paths and flower beds in the yard. I am not very familiar with the environment here.I made a detour, stopping many times on the way, and by the time I crept closer to the bench in question (without the gleam of cigarettes in sight, I could only vaguely guess), a considerable amount of time had passed.It would be too embarrassing if they found me at this time.I could hear them talking now, but so softly that I had to get a lot closer to hear what they were saying.I crawled on all fours like an Indian because the bushes were only half a person high and there wasn't enough room for protection.

Scarlatte was scolding her husband. "I can't stand his arrogance. Once this kind of thing is said, he will talk about a dozen affairs." "But today it really opened my eyes," Witold said. "He's never told me this story before." "If it's true," growled Scarlatte, "it would hurt me so much if he was always talking to my face about the joys of love he'd had, and this It’s been over and he’s still talking about it, which I find disgusting.” "You must avenge yourself," suggested Witold. "Do you still think of Portugal?"

The two were silent. Pamela Schroeder finally asked, "Where did you get that old woman?" "Who are you talking about?" "Oh, that's Tiha, she pretentiously calls herself Tiha." "There was a palpable jealousy in your words, because your name is no longer the queen of foreign names in this circle. I met her at the wine festival in Weinheim." "Leina, you're lying. It's impossible for you to see this kind of wooden person at the annual market on the anniversary of the church's completion." "She didn't go there alone. Didn't Ernst tell you about it? When you went to America, Ernst and I went to the annual market on the anniversary of the church, and we happened to meet there Tiha and her friends."

"Oh, by the way, is that friend the one who fell from the tower?" "You're right, her name is Bid, a really nice woman. Even our super police couldn't find out the truth about the tower falling incident." "Reiner, so you carefully planned to let your fans surround you during this trip to Alsace..." "You're probably one of them, right?" Scarlat smiled and asked Reiner to light her second cigarette. "I just heard a rustling," she said, startling me. "Rats, cats, lions and tigers. And then there's that jealous Ernst with a long hunting knife," Witold joked.

"Oh, if only he was jealous! I don't think he's interested in anything I do." "Shall we try again?" Witold suggested. "I have been waiting for this opportunity for a long time," Scarlatt replied. "First you can keep me warm, because it is very cold outside here." Witold seemed to be embracing her, and the two cigarettes were very close.I have a desire to kill them immediately. "Thinking of your admirer again," Scarlatt began again. "Have you not noticed that all she does is to please you?" "That's it, isn't that what every woman wants?" Witold asked presumptuously.

Scarlatt looked like he was abusing him because he yelled a little louder, "Gee, you're crazy!" "Then you have conquered that dear Kitty too. Have you ever slept with her?" "My God, Scarlatt, you must be madly in love with me with all your jealousy!" "You beast, a sad widower! You have a woman, I feel that very well. Is that woman the Bid?" "That's a good guess. But, dear Scarlatte, you'll start to notice that I prefer women under thirty!" In the midst of their argument, she began to sob.This woman is really scheming, for Witold's comforting and helpful nature is immediately revealed, and he whispers softly, as if caressing her.

I felt like my heart was splitting open.This woman has a good husband and two children, she has beauty and temperament, money and friends.Why did she take this man for herself? Didn't she know that Kitty and I needed him? She said softly and gently, "It should be warmer in the car!" Now they are walking away as softly as I came just now.After a while, I heard the sound of the motor of Witold's car.Looks like they're at least not going to do that straight up in the parking lot. I don't have to tiptoe around anymore.Trembling, I went back into the room and lay down next to Kitty, a woman who knew nothing.

I wait.Two hours passed quietly.Kitty snored less directly than before, and I used to sleep for a while and then wake up in a panic because I was afraid that I would lose the battle for Rainer Witold Engelstein.I'm not fighting Vivian, the young woman, or Kitty (if she wins, I'm almost glad she won), but a she-devil.If it was in the Middle Ages, she would have been burned to death. I really want to sleep a little longer.I suddenly realized that I was awakened by a loud noise.Kitty was breathing evenly; could it be that Scarlatte had returned and lay in bed?I turn on the little light.It's half past three and the extra bed is empty.My equally empty stomach was growling, and I felt thirsty.I turned off the light again, walked four steps gropingly, and came to the door of the bathroom, ready to drink water.

The bathrooms in this old house were added later.People carve out a corner from a large room and turn it into a mini bathroom.The architect took a risk and managed to fit a swivel bidet, a small bathtub, a toilet and a washstand in the bathroom so that the regulations could be met. The light was on in the bathroom, but the door was left open.Scarlatte lay in the tub.I stared at her dumbfounded, as if staring at a ghost.She was slightly embarrassed. "It's all right, you come in," she said, "I left the door open. I was frozen and only a hot bath can help me." I picked up the cup I used to brush my teeth and filled it with water. "Did you not go to bed?" I asked. She responded with agitation and combativeness: "Why ask me if you know." I was very angry: "You probably think that an old woman, a wooden figure, must be a very stupid woman at the same time, right? I know who you are with outside." Scarlatt prepares for battle. "You overheard us," she said, "and because you wanted him yourself. Damn it, I think it's disgusting!" "Scarlatt, what you're doing is, of course, noble and respectable, as you smugly call yourself," I retorted. "I haven't really done anything crooked," she said, "but any shy spinster who's desperate to spy on other people's sins and eavesdrop on people's words is evil to me." Incarnate." Furious with hatred, I struggled to find the right words to retaliate against her. Scarlatt lifted her pretty little foot, with red paint on the toenails, and gazed at it with satisfaction. "What's the matter with Bid?" she asked. My breath stopped: "What's wrong?" "She had a hand with Reiner," the damned thing was telling a fantasy story, "so you pushed her off the tower out of jealousy." Immediately I grabbed the curling iron Scarlatt needed for her evening make-up.The plug has been turned on.I quickly threw the electric reel into the bathtub full of water. The mirror lights went out due to a short circuit, but luckily the dome lights stayed on.Scarlatt fainted.Is she dead? Instead of panicking, I closed the door decisively.Had Kitty been woken by our—not very loud—conversation?I now how to do? I unplugged it from the outlet and took the electric curling wand out of the tub.I took a closer look at the naked woman and felt her pulse beating, but I wasn't entirely sure if I could feel her pulse beating faintly.Anyway, I feel like she's still alive.She's sure to wake up right away, screaming and revealing my guilt: not only did I try to murder her, but I killed Bid too. My sleeves shouldn't get wet.I rolled up my sleeves, sat on the edge of the tub, and slowly moved her head under until it was completely submerged, so that her thighs were exposed outside the small tub.I looked at my watch and it took me a good quarter of an hour to get her head where it is now.Scarlatt didn't move.Her eyes glowed green between seaweed-red locks as she stared straight at me, and I felt her freckled body relax.she died. I dried my arms thoroughly, wrapped Scarlatt's electric wand in a hotel towel, and eavesdropped through the keyhole to see if Kitty could hear anything.Can't hear anything.I turned the key carefully and opened the door very lightly.Kitty was in the same deep sleep as in the previous hours.I slipped out of the bathroom with the electric reel wrapped in a towel in my hand, closed the door, groped my way to my suitcase, and hid the wet mass in my clothes.Then, trying not to be agitated at all, I quietly climbed into bed.Kitty turned around a little and murmured "Leiner". Now, as I lay there, I knew I must be sick again.This time the body was found right under my nose.One of the towels was wet, but Scarlatte lay in the tub and hadn't used that towel;Has anyone seen me in the garden at night?Perhaps Ernst had stalked his wife?It can be seen that her body has been subjected to electric shock - is there any clue left?I know that when a man dies from an electric shock, he has severe burns on his body.I found Scarlatt's appearance unremarkable, but I was neither a doctor nor a police officer.In any case, I couldn't be the first to get up and see the dead body.Witold would come again early in the morning to wake Kitty.Then she'd make a quick trip to the bathroom, and I'd be sure to be woken up by her horrible roar. I was lying in bed, it was getting light, I was waiting for Witold's knock on the door and Kitty's roar, but it was already eight o'clock and nothing happened. As the minutes passed, I wondered if I still wanted Witold.I have sacrificed so much for him, I am risking my freedom, my social prestige, including all my habits of life so far.If he suddenly fell in love with me (which is almost impossible), and shared a table and a bed with me, shared money, vacations, friends and habits, is this really a goal worth pursuing?Everything seemed suspicious to me; he seemed to me a complete stranger.I suddenly feel hopeless; why have I already killed three women?The death of the first woman was more or less due to my negligence, and I have nothing to blame myself for.Killing Bid would be bad, completely redundant.I don't want to recall the past.But today's action—killing a witch—filled me with a certain satisfaction.Unlike others, this woman hurt me deeply. Kitty moved a little.I had to pretend to be asleep.Guessing from the movement of the mattress, she sat up from the bed, shaking her feet, probably looking at her watch.I know it's half past eight.She couldn't help letting out a soft exclamation, stretched her waist, stretched her limbs, and groped barefoot towards the bathroom. The expected yell did not come, but was replaced by a determined voice I had not yet heard from a governess: "Tiha, come here!" Kitty was giving orders so loudly that it was impossible for me to pretend not to hear them.I hurried into the place where I committed the crime, my face was pale, and I felt sick in my stomach.The bathroom window was completely covered with a layer of fog.Kitty grabbed Scarlatt's head from the water. "Help me!" she ordered. "You grab her by the right arm and we put her on the edge of the tub so the water can run out of her lungs." We worked together to put her loose upper body on the edge of the tub, and the lukewarm water dripped onto the floor in big drops. "Call someone over quickly! I'll hold her still," Kitty went on ordering. I rushed to the room next to ours and opened the door without even knocking.Witold was shaving at the sink while Ernst was still sleeping. "Come here quickly, something terrible is happening!" I cried; not Kitty, but I became hysterical.Witold let the shaving brush fall off, wiped off the foam on his face with a towel, and rushed into the next room with his upper body bare, and I followed closely behind him.Ernst Schröder, although awake, was not so quick to react. Kitty gave the order from the bathroom: "Ernst help me lift her to the bed so I can start mouth-to-mouth resuscitation right away. Rainer, you call the EMT and the Red Cross ambulance!" At this time, Ernst, who was sleepy, stumbled in and rushed in. Because of such a blow, he tripped and fell to the ground.Nevertheless, Kitty urged Witold to go downstairs and make a phone call, since he was the only one who spoke French fluently.I had to put the body on the bed with Kitty.Ernst Schroeder struggled to get back up and came to help. Kitty put a sheet over the naked body and firmly began artificial respiration.Ernst took Scarlatt's hand and said repeatedly, "She's not dead yet." The bath water wasn't really cold yet, so her body probably wasn't stiff and cooled yet. At some point, Witold rushed upstairs again to take over Kitty's job.Scarlatt looked horrible, but luckily I didn't have to see her.I know that no matter how hard I try, everything will be in vain. After a while, there was an ambulance siren.Two Red Cross aides and a doctor rushed into the room with a stretcher, oxygen set, injection equipment and a doctor's bag.However, after a short examination, the doctor ordered the deceased to be taken to an ambulance.She was placed on a stretcher, quickly strapped and taken to an ambulance with incredible speed.The doors were closed there, and doctors began CPR on her. We stood in silence, unable to see what was going on in the car, but we had the feeling that the ambulance was going to drive off now with its horn honking.Only I know that a person cannot be resurrected after death, and he is powerless.But at the same time, when I think about the consequences of a successful resurrection, all my bones are shaking with fear. A quarter of an hour later, the doctor came out of the car with a serious expression, and it was clear from the expression on his face what he wanted to say.He asked in French whom he should speak to. Witold explained that Ernst Schroeder was the victim's husband, but unfortunately, he could barely speak French.Still, the doctor turned to Ernst and said in German with difficulty: "I'm sorry, my sir, we did our best." He turned to Witold and said he had a few more questions to ask. None of us wore serious clothes.I was in tracksuit, Kitty in pajamas, Witold in pajama bottoms, Ernst in bathrobe.We go into the house.Kitty ran upstairs and got a coat for Witold.I followed her into the room, took out the wet towel in the hotel from the suitcase again, threw it into a corner of the bathroom, rolled the electric curler into the dirty clothes, and hid it in the suitcase again bottom of the .Then I dressed quickly and went back to the others.I found that fuse box in the hallway.I opened the box with a handkerchief and reclosed the tripped fuse. The doctor asked if Pamela had a heart attack or another chronic condition, and if she was taking medication regularly.To my surprise, Ernst said his wife was born with a heart valve disease that didn't require treatment.But she does her best to minimize physical loads, such as strenuous hikes.However, apart from a few minor ailments, she was basically never sick. The doctor took notes one by one, and Witold was translating back and forth.In the end, the doctor said that because the deceased was not his patient, the cause of her death was currently difficult to determine.He will not be able to issue a death certificate but will have to arrange for an autopsy and will involve the police as is customary. He finally said goodbye, but not before asking if Ernst should be given another shot of sedative.Witold explained that the gentleman was a pharmacist himself and knew which medicines he was taking. At the word "pharmacist," the French doctor raised his eyebrows and looked at Ernst critically.It was almost ten o'clock in the evening when he left.The ambulance cannot carry the dead, so the body was lifted out of the car by the health staff and taken to a small room on the ground floor.Ernst walked towards the dead man and sat beside her in a daze.The dead should be carried away immediately. The hostess of the hotel, although also completely overwhelmed, was sympathetic and helpful.Fortunately, the other guests had already left the house, and the unfortunate incident might be able to be kept under wraps.She motherly ordered us to get dressed before we had a cup of espresso.The police have called and asked us to secure the scene in the bathroom and not touch anything in there. Kitty and I took a shower in another room.Witold has finished washing up.He took a cup of coffee from the breakfast table and handed it to his friend.Kitty and I also drank coffee and even had some flatbreads. Witold looked guilty.He certainly didn't anticipate that any of us would know about some of his escapades last night.He was a little too busy trying to hide his obvious restlessness.He ran from the breakfast table where our lady sat, to the landlady's kitchen, and then to the quiet room where Ernst sat next to his dead wife, wishing not to be disturbed. "Damn me," Kitty said to Witold and me, "exactly last night I slept like a dead pig and wouldn't wake up if someone took me away. When the bath water comes, either me or Tiha should hear it as usual, or we can help." "Perhaps she had a heart attack, lost consciousness, and drowned," said Witold. "It could have happened in silence. Kitty, you don't have to feel responsible for that." .It's really not your style to ignore death, after all, you made an excellent response and handled everything just right..." Kitty was very pleased with what Witold said.She also praised us for our quick and responsive response.How dreadful, that all was in vain! "Poor Ernst!" she sighed. "What has become of him now?" Witold said he would come over right away and talk him out of the room. Witold felt reassured as far as pacifying Kitty was concerned, but of course he never knew whether Ernst or I were aware of his tryst.In order to reassure him, I told Kitty in front of him that I didn't sleep well the night before because of my stomach upset, so I slept soundly last night without even a dream. A policeman came in, led by the landlady into our bedroom and then into the bathroom.He closed the bathroom door, first took the temperature of the bath water that still remained, and asked Kitty who was sleeping in which bed.The young man did not speak the local Alsatian dialect.Kitty answered his questions in fluent French, but when Witold appeared, she stopped talking and asked him to continue talking to the police.The officer said we would not leave the place until one of his colleagues, who he said would not be here until two hours at the earliest, had recorded our statements.He also went to look at the deceased, but asked Ernst Schroeder to leave the room immediately. Ernst came into our room.Suddenly, he burst into tears.Everyone still didn't understand what was going on, but he just scolded himself a bitch.He said he had hurt Pamela last night at dinner bragging because she hadn't been able to stand his talk for years.She may have died entirely of a broken heart.Kitty stroked him as if she were a child, embraced him, and persuaded him with soothing words.The policeman came in again and said he would wait here for his boss to come.Then he went into the kitchen to warm himself with some family hair from the friendly landlady.We sat there anxiously.Witold just wanted to know if Ernst heard him coming back at night.Perhaps Ernst was still awake in bed when Witold left the bedroom with a cigarette.But Ernst himself told us that after drinking too much wine, people tend to be too excited to fall asleep, so he took sleeping pills. The hostess brought us a hot cup of onion soup.The corpse truck finally appeared, but the driver had been instructed to wait for the arrival of the police officer before sending the deceased for pathological autopsy. It took three hours for the police officer to arrive.He also went first to the landlady's kitchen, where the two porters and the policeman sat.Finally, he went to the dead man, who was now about to be transported, with his camera and a mysterious little case.Kitty was the one who found the body, and she was going upstairs in the bathroom to describe to the police exactly when and how it happened.He really asked the question: why was the wet towel in that corner, because the dead man didn't really use it to wipe himself.Kitty replied that perhaps she had touched Scarlat with the towel.Scarlatt's luggage was taken to the police car.I was terrified, thinking they were going to check my suitcase too.But they didn't do that. Finally, we were interrogated one by one.One of the other guests who lived downstairs from us seemed to be annoyed when he heard the splash of water at a quarter past three, so he checked the time.Kitty and I both said that we absolutely did not notice that Scarlatte was still in the shower that late.Ernst also didn't talk about the fact that Witold went to smoke very late, maybe he forgot about it, or didn't think it was important.The female shop owner said that she heard the sound of a car late at night, but did not know when it was.The conversation with the German-speaking officer dragged on.He didn't finish talking with us until evening.He asked us to come to his office the next day to sign off on the records. After crying and being interrogated, Ernst quickly calmed down.He is now worried about his children.He wanted to break the news to them in person, but definitely not over the phone.On the other hand, he had to stay here anyway until all the formalities were cleared and the body was transported to Germany. Witold suggested: "Tomorrow we'll finish our business at the police station, Kitty, and I ask you to go home with Tiha in my car. You can't help Ernst here anyway. I'll stay He is here, interpreting for him on official business, and finally driving him home in his car. But of course we must let Annette and Oleg know about this at once." Kitty asked Ernst if there was someone he could trust, who would also have a close relationship with the child.Then Ernst remembered to call the pharmacist assistant he had worked with for many years and a very close couple.The couple promised to take care of his children and to take care to break the dire news. It occurred to me that I had mothered seven children—although they were no longer children. In the evening, none of us was in the mood to eat, but the hostess brought a small gift to our room without saying hello, saying that other guests were having fun, and I hope we will forgive.We then walked a few steps to the door of the room.Kitty took Ernst's arm and let him talk, cry, blame and complain about himself.Witold walked behind me.He was also exhausted.He wanted to speak several times, wanted to say something, but couldn't. "Tiha..." he began softly again, "Oh, it's nothing." I don't have Kitty's knack for shaking his hand.Besides, I'm not that interested.It became clear to me that, if I was lucky, this man was just trying to have a short affair with me.But I have no illusions about his faithfulness.Bid had mentioned this long ago: having sex with a man like that will only bring you pain.Scarlatt also speaks of his "extraordinary charisma," but aside from that, his wife Sirko is always on my mind.No, I'm not going to shake his hand. But suddenly, he started talking, and couldn't stop the car anymore: "Tiha, three women died. The first was my wife. You didn't know her, but you were there when she died. In We are guilty in this case. The second is Bid, your friend, I met her through you, and her daughter is my lover. It is accident, so to speak. The third is me My friend's wife, we were only a few meters away from her when she died. Is this also an accident?" He caught a leaf that fell from the tree irritably. "If I really believed in superstition," he went on, "then it occurred to me that we—me and you, if we were the two of us together, could produce mysterious catastrophic powers. But I don't believe There was something supernatural about it. Even so, I found the three deaths suspicious. I knew I was responsible for the first case. But the other two had a certain resemblance - they were all women , neither died of illness nor old age, but died in an unnatural way. What do you think of this?" I was thinking, "I don't believe in superstition either. I find it incredible that the two of us are like angels of death bringing misfortune. How could this happen?" Witold said softly, barely audibly: "Murder." "The first was a spur-of-the-moment homicide, the second was an accident," I replied calmly, "but the tower fall was quite a sensation. But the bathtub deaths—statistically—really No. The vast majority of accidents don't happen in traffic or work, but in the home environment, and I know that better than you because of my job at an insurance company." Witold was satisfied with my answer, or at least appeared to be.