A Matter of Breeding: a mystery set in turn-of-the-century Vienna (A Viennese Mystery) by J. Sydney Jones

Author:J. Sydney Jones [Jones, J. Sydney]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn House Publishers
Published: 2014-07-01T00:00:00+00:00

Twenty

The Stiegls were still in shock on the Tuesday following their daughter’s murder when the team went to interview them. Frau Stiegl, a gaunt woman who wore her thinness like a martyr’s badge, sat stoically on a hardback chair at the kitchen table where Herr Stiegl had directed them.

He made up for his wife’s spareness by his generous girth which gave his body an ovoid appearance. He had the unlined features of a man naturally jovial, for whom the world presented opportunities rather than threats.

But now, with the loss of his daughter, he seemed cautious at every step, sitting on the edge of his chair as if it might collapse at any moment.

Such was the impression Werthen had of the couple, at any rate.

‘But why would someone want to kill my baby girl?’ Herr Stiegl said, his voice choking on the words.

‘That is what we intend to find out,’ Gross reassured him. ‘Not only why, but who.’

Gross waited a moment and then pressed on. ‘You assumed Monika was going to meet Herr Frank yesterday. Why was that?’

‘It’s what she told us,’ Herr Stiegl said. ‘Who else would she be meeting?’

‘They got along well, your daughter and Herr Frank?’ Gross asked.

‘They were a wonderful couple,’ the father said, but Frau Stiegl did not seem to share his opinion, shaking her head and muttering something unintelligible.

They had decided before arriving that Gross should take the lead in this interview; Werthen and Stoker were to look for reactions, nuances, any bit of personal behavior that might shed light on the affair. The ‘language of the body’ Gross called it, making such minute observations of witness behavior part of his techniques for inspectors. And if the time came when Gross needed to talk to one of the parents alone, Werthen would gently escort the other to view the victim’s room.

‘Frau Stiegl? You have something to add,’ Gross finally said.

‘He was a midge,’ she said with distaste.

‘Pardon?’ Gross said.

‘A midge,’ she repeated. ‘A pesky summer insect buzzing around our daughter.’

‘Now Klara—’ Herr Stiegl began, but his wife cut him off with a look that would sour dessert wine.

‘He wasn’t worthy of her. Study, study, that’s all he ever did. And dream. A great dreamer. But where was the proposal? that’s what I asked. Where was the commitment?’

‘You’re being too hard on the boy,’ Herr Stiegl said. ‘Wanting to do well at university does not make him a murderer. Besides, he was home all day yesterday. Police say so.’

‘Exactly,’ she spat out. ‘Home. When he should have been there protecting our daughter.’

Werthen and Gross exchanged looks. It was time.

‘Perhaps,’ Werthen said to the mother, ‘you could show us your daughter’s room. There may be some bit of evidence, some indication who she was really meeting.’

‘Police have already been through everything,’ she muttered. ‘Like a pack of wolves.’

‘Still,’ Werthen gently insisted, ‘they’re only human. They may have overlooked something.’

She clenched her jaw, stood up, and left the kitchen without a word, leaving Werthen and Stoker to scamper behind her.

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