The Melancholy Countess (Short Story) Read Online Free PDF Page B

a doctor would have been summoned, and he would have almost certainly suspected poisoning.”
    “Isn’t there a relationship between dose and effect?”
    “Yes, but it is modulated by so many factors: age, weight, and general health.”
    “A rough estimate may have served Hauke well enough.”
    Liebermann looked out the window again. A black carriage with the Habsburg crest on the door rolled by. “Strychnine poisoning is such a horrible way to die. Thevictim remains conscious until the very end. There are more efficient ways of disposing of a wife.”
    “He’s a monster. He wanted her to suffer.”
    “I do not think he is that kind of monster. He is motivated by money, and inflicting an agonizing death, in this particular instance, was entirely surplus to his requirements. It introduced an unnecessary element of risk. I wonder …” Liebermann breathed on the window and drew a treble clef in the condensation with his fingertip. “Could it be that someone else—someone other than Hauke—wanted the countess dead?”
    “I very much doubt it.”
    “We know relatively little about her past.”
    “True. But I think we know enough about her provenance and character to make some fairly respectable guesses. I would not say that she was a woman whose transgressions were of sufficient wickedness to merit such a vile end. She was a sad, tragic figure.”
    “Then perhaps she was killed as a warning to Hauke?”
    “Now you are being fanciful, Max.” Rheinhardt lit a cigar and pushed the box across the table for Liebermann. “I received a note from Commissioner Brügel earlier today. He wants me to be more decisive.”
    “You mean he wants you to arrest Hauke.”
    Rheinhardt opened his mouth and released a cloud of fulvous smoke. “Hauke didn’t do himself any favors by trying to abscond. And Haussmann tells me he spends all day and half the night gambling at his club.”
    “Even so. Decisiveness requires decisive evidence.”
    “I know that, and you know that,” Rheinhardt replied. “But I’m not sure that I can say the same for Commissioner Brügel.”

10
    Frau Albert was in her early thirties, but she looked older. Her dress was a washed-out gray, and her undisciplined hair was wiry and tangled. She sat on the opposite side of Rheinhardt’s desk, clutching a copy of the
Illustrierte Kronen-Zeitung
, a rather disreputable newspaper that appealed to those with a taste for scandal. Frau Albert had drawn a ring around the article that she wished to bring to the inspector’s attention. It was only a small piece, tucked away on page eight, but it contained all the relevant facts: marriage to a much younger husband, melancholy, suicide. Hauke was named, and described as “a dashing cavalry officer who had been decorated by the emperor.”
    “He was originally courting my sister,” said Frau Albert. “But when my father passed away, he became more interested in my mother. It was obscene how he flirted with her. To be frank, I don’t think she was herself; the grief had made her mad. They married in secret, and when she told my sister and me, we broke off relations with her. My mother died abroad, in a village just outside Naples. He buried her there too—and very promptly, I imagine. She was supposed to have died from tuberculosis, but an Italian doctor will say anything if you pay him enough. Needless to say, we had our suspicions. When Herr Hauke returned to Vienna, we employed a lawyer to contest the will, but nothing could be done.” Frau Albert’s eyes brightened with anger, and she clenched her fists. “My father built up his fortune from nothing. He loved us dearly and would never have neglected our interests. I beg you, Inspector, please bring this fiend to book. He is a ruthless predator and must be stopped.”
    Rheinhardt puffed out his cheeks and let the air out slowly. He wanted to say something measured and dignified, but nothing suggested itself. “God in heaven” was the best he could