Bed & Breakfast 8 - Murder, My Suite by Mary Daheim

Author:Mary Daheim [Daheim, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mary Daheim
Publisher: Unknown
Published: 2010-03-22T04:00:00+00:00

“Yes, yes.” Nat sounded testy. He kept his eyes on the street, where two of the three drivers seemed close to blows. “We live on Crystal Lake, west of the town. We walk down the mountain. The lift is for tourists and the lazy.”

Being both, Judith gave Nat a limp little smile. “The mountain trail must be lovely at night.”

“Lovely?” Nat’s tone was uncertain. His attention was fixed on the melee at curbside. In the near distance, the off-key siren of a police car could be heard. “It is evocative, the mountains. I think of my homeland, with the snow-covered MURDER, MY SUITE / 139

peaks, the rushing streams, the eagle soaring overhead.” He sighed plaintively. “I grow nostalgic. Last night, I stand alone at the cliff’s edge and regard the forest primeval. The storm shatters the sky, with lightning dancing in the heavens. In my mind, I can see my native country, I can hear peasant melodies, I can smell the rich, damp earth.”

Judith was moved as well as disconcerted. Nat’s imagery had conveyed something else, but the disturbance in the street kept Judith mentally off-balance. “You were born…ah, where, exactly?” she finally asked. Nat Linski seemed lost in his reverie, now indifferent to the policemen who were trying to separate the irate motorists. “It was the most insignificant of sites, a mere speck on the map. For all that, it was still a glorious place.” With grave dignity, he drew himself up in the Bentley’s sleek leather seat. “I am a Lusatian, and proud of it.”

“Really.” Judith evinced awe, even as she scratched her memory for Lusatia. Germany, maybe, or Poland. Surely, during her years as a librarian, she had looked it up for some geography student.

In the street, the police had managed to get matters in hand and were taking down information. If Renie showed up in the next few minutes, someone was bound to identify her as the cause of the accident. Judith turned her back on the chaos. A mental map of Europe came into focus. “East Germany,”

Judith said suddenly. “What used to be, right?”

While the crowd still congregated on the sidewalk, the policemen were moving traffic. The parking-lot exit was no longer blocked. Nat Linksi exhibited impatience.

“Yes, yes.” He turned on the ignition. “Pardon me, I must go home.”

But Judith wasn’t quite ready to give up. “You should,” she asserted, still leaning on the Bentley. “To Germany, I mean. Now that things are different over there. Is that what you were brooding about last night?”

The car began to move, slowly but smoothly. “No.” Nat Linksi gave a solemn, definite shake of his big head. “Never. Impossible, that. Good-bye.”

Caught off-balance, Judith staggered, then watched Nat cautiously pull out into the street. Somehow, she had expected 140 / Mary Daheim

the mercurial ice mentor to drive aggressively, heedlessly, even dangerously. Like Renie.

But Renie was nowhere in sight. Judith walked over to the curb, gazing up and down the street. There was no sign of her cousin. Maybe, Judith

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