The German House by Annette Hess

Author:Annette Hess [Annette Hess]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: HarperCollins
Published: 2019-10-09T00:00:00+00:00

THE NEXT MORNING, right after breakfast, Eva packed the narrow-brimmed hat in a large paper bag and set out for the inn. The reception desk was deserted, and the murmur of voices and clatter of silverware emerged from a room behind it to the left. The guests were having breakfast, while the innkeeper’s wife strolled between the tables with the coffeepot. The innkeeper was nowhere to be seen. Eva remembered which room Cohn had booked. She climbed the stairs to the second floor and walked down the dark, carpeted corridor. She stopped outside the door bearing the number eight. She knocked softly. “Herr Cohn? I’ve brought you something.” There was no response, and she knocked again, waited, and then tried the door handle. The room was empty, the window wide open, revealing a tall firewall, and the bright curtains moved in the breeze. Despite the fresh air from outdoors, a penetrating smell hung in the room. Like gas or the chloroform they give you at the dentist to numb the pain, Eva thought and involuntarily covered her nose and mouth with her hand. She drew back into the hallway.

“What are you snooping around for, Fräulein?” The innkeeper approached.

“I wanted to visit Herr Cohn.”

He looked her over with his slightly puffy eyes. “Weren’t you the one who first brought him here? Are you related to him?”

Eva shook her head. “No, I just have something of his . . .” Eva lifted the paper bag by way of explanation, but the man wasn’t interested. He stepped into the room.

“He stayed in here for weeks,” he noted and closed the window. “They just don’t know the first thing about personal hygiene and care. So now I need to clear the lice out of all the cracks. And it’s not like you can just ask nicely—you have to fumigate.”

“Did he leave?”

The innkeeper turned to face Eva. “No, he was hit and killed by a car.”

Eva gaped at the man and shook her head incredulously. “But . . . he was . . . I thought it was just a concussion.”

“Beats me. One of the prosecutors, or something, already stopped by early this morning, red-headed guy—he picked up his suitcase. Everything’s paid up. Except the fumigation. I’ve got to cough that up myself, of course. Unless you were planning to pay?” Eva turned and slowly made her way down the corridor without answering, the paper bag in her left hand. She brushed the wall with three fingers of her right hand. She felt she needed the support.

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