Unusual Uses for Olive Oil Read Online Free PDF Page A

been a mistake after all. ‘I am,’ he said. ‘It is my work that you are talking of.’
    The director put a hand to his brow. ‘Oh dear,’ he said. ‘This really is most unfortunate. The committee received reports on a number of meritorious works. For some reason, the members were under the impression that
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
, which I must say is very highly regarded, was the work of Professor Unterholzer. That is why he was shortlisted.’
    I knew it, thought von Igelfeld. I was right all along.There has been a terrible mistake. Then he thought: fifty thousand euros.
    ‘However,’ said the director, ‘as it happens no damage has been done. The judges met again yesterday and reached their final decision. The prize has been awarded to Professor Capobianco. So it really makes no difference. Had it been awarded to Professor Unterholzer, then it would have been very complicated. But the jury has come up with its verdict and the matter has gone the other way. We have yet to announce the outcome, of course.’
    Von Igelfeld bit his lip. ‘You mean that the judges decided that Professor Capobianco’s book was more worthy than
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
? Is that what you’re suggesting? That they preferred
ephemera
?’
    The director winced. ‘I wouldn’t have put it that way,’ he said. ‘Not in the presence of the author of
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
, your good self. But I suppose that is an inevitable inference from the outcome.’
    The two men stared at each other for a few moments. Von Igelfeld found his eyes drawn to the director’s nose. It is the same nose, he said to himself. It is definitely the same nose. And that is just too much of a coincidence to be discounted. There was something not quite right about this situation, but he could not put his finger on it. It seemed very unlikely that the members of the prize committeecould have laboured under the mistaken view that Unterholzer had written
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
unless … unless they had been deliberately misled by the director of the Stiftung, who no doubt had been charged with the duty of preparing a précis of each nominee’s achievements. If this Unterholzer were a nepotistically inclined cousin, as von Igelfeld now once again suspected, it would not have been difficult for him to effect such a deception.
    Von Igelfeld rose to his feet and took his leave of the director. There would be plenty of time to think about this matter on the train back to Regensburg; back to Regensburg and away from scheming, duplicitous Berlin, full, as it was, of Unterholzers and their equivalent. And during this time of reflection he could ponder his next move. He could confront Unterholzer, revealing that he knew that this was a case of an Unterholzer awarding a favour to another Unterholzer; or he could remain silent, rising above the whole sordid matter. He decided on the latter. There was, after all, an element of doubt, no matter how suspicious it all looked. And a man was innocent until proved guilty in a court of law, and that presumption should be extended to Unterholzer, even if he did not deserve it.
    So when von Igelfeld saw Unterholzer in the coffee room at the Institute the next day, he congratulated him warmly on being shortlisted.
    ‘I have heard that I have not won it,’ said Unterholzer. ‘And I did tell them, you know, that if anybody should be on the list it should be you. I told them that
Portuguese Irregular Verbs
was the book that really put this place on the map.’
    ‘You did?’
    ‘Of course.’
    There was no doubt that Unterholzer was telling the truth, decided von Igelfeld, as he looked down into his cup of coffee. How complex this world is, he thought; how easily may things appear to be one thing and then prove to be another. And how easy it was to see the worst in humanity when what we should really be looking for is the best.
    ‘That was very kind of Professor Dr Unterholzer,’ said the Librarian. ‘Do you not