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here.”
    Five minutes later, a man arrived with a mountainous stack of ring binders. Without any idea of what I was looking for, I started turning pages. Meyer seemed impatient; his plans for a little overtime with Petra were obviously evaporating. Finally I decided to look at the payroll records. There is something sensuous about money, even if it belongs to other people.
    “Why is Dr. Kliensmann making three times as much as anyone else?”
    “Dr. Kliensmann is not involved in development or research or production. He acts as a psychological consultant to the firm and its staff. It was the late Mr. Böllig’s idea to employ him in that capacity, in accordance with the American model.”
    “How does that work? Does the doctor have a room with a couch here at the factory, so that anyone who wants to, or has to, may go there and get things off their chest?”
    Meyer smiled.
    “No, no. Dr. Kliensmann is the director of Ruhenbrunn—you may have noticed the clinic on your way here? In urgent cases he’ll come over, but mostly his task consists in advising the administration on their treatment of employees. As, for instance, how to motivate the will to work, or how to create an atmosphere in which people identify with the firm and give it their best. Dr. Kliensmann is also consulted on matters such as our new cafeteria space. You know, the Japanese have really discovered amazing things about all that.”
    “And the doctor’s advice is as expensive as that?”
    “It’s a matter of rewarding quality, not quantity.”
    I looked at a few more pages. Then I decided that I had seen enough.
    “I’m done with these, Mr. Meyer. But could I see your records on the unfortunate events of last summer? I need the addresses of the children involved, the amounts sued for, the court decisions in each case, and so on.”
    “Just a moment.”
    Meyer left the office. Through the half-open door, I heard him suggest that the princess go on to his place. I took another look at the files. When he returned with a red folder and put it on the table, I held up the personnel list.
    “A Mr. Windelen and a Dr. Hahn were dismissed last month. Why?”
    “A most unpleasant affair. Windelen and Hahn repeatedly, and without consulting with management, meddled in the debate about that poison business. Even within the firm, they demanded the creation of some kind of investigative and control committee for waste-water matters. They so poisoned the working atmosphere of our firm that it became unbearable.”
    I examined the red folder. The damages sued for in the case of each child amounted to fifty thousand marks. Medical reports stated that they had suffered permanent skin damage. The trial date was set for next February.
    “Why don’t you just pay up? That would remove you from the public eye.”
    He gave me a searching look.
    “Since Mr. Böllig was murdered, we stand a pretty good chance of winning the case. Public opinion has turned around.”
    “Oh, I see.”
    “Don’t get me wrong, now. We never felt responsible for the accident in the first place. There are fences, there are signs warning of possible danger. Besides, the lake is on factory grounds. One might say that those children entered it illegally.”
    “If you lost the case, you’d have to pay four hundred and fifty thousand marks. Is that a large sum for Böllig Chemicals to come up with?”
    “I think we’d survive. But we could, of course, find better uses for the money. We are a family concern, and that’s rare these days. We operate on a very narrow margin.”
    “Mrs. Böllig now owns the company, one hundred percent.”
    “One hundred percent, that is, of the Böllig family’s shares. Those constitute sixty percent of the total. The remainder is held by various shareholders.”
    “Are you a shareholder?”
    He stroked his chin, then leaned closer.
    “Confidentially speaking—it wouldn’t be a smart investment. Too risky. A single miscalculation could endanger the