Deadly Communion by Frank Tallis Read Free Book Online Page A

wide-brimmed hats with decorative rosettes.
    ‘Here,’ said Rainmayr, scooping some coins out of a bowl on the table. ‘Take this.’ He dropped a few hellers into an outstretched hand. ‘No longer than an hour. Understand?’
    The women nodded and dashed for the door, suddenly laughingout loud on account of some private joke. Once they were out of the studio, Rheinhardt remarked frostily: ‘Your models are very young, Herr Rainmayr.’
    ‘All women look young,’ the artist replied, ‘once you get to a certain age. Besides, they’re older than you think, inspector, and more worldly than you can imagine.’
    ‘Do you always choose young women as your subjects?’
    ‘An artist — like everyone else — must have food in his belly. My work reflects the tastes of my patrons. There are a number of collectors who have a weakness for the female form when it enters the transitional phase between adolescence and maturity.’
    ‘I would very much like to see that list.’
    ‘Indeed,’ said Rainmayr. ‘I’m sure you would — and if I wasn’t bound to respect confidences I’d enjoy showing it to you. You’d be surprised to learn how many art lovers occupy positions of influence and power.’
    It was obvious that Rainmayr didn’t fear prosecution.
    Commissions from judges? Rheinhardt wondered.
    ‘I understand,’ said Rheinhardt, ‘that you employ a model called Adele Zeiler — is that correct?’
    Rainmayr placed his brushes on the table.
    ‘Yes. Although I don’t use her as much as I used to. She only works for me occasionally.’
    ‘When did you last see her?’
    ‘Sunday afternoon.’
    ‘How was she?’
    ‘No different than usual.’
    ‘What did you talk about?’
    ‘A dance show that she wanted to see … the new fashion house on Bauernmarkt. At one point she asked me for more work, but I couldn’t satisfy her request and she became a little petulant.’
    ‘Would you say that you are well acquainted with Fräulein Zeiler?’
    ‘Yes. I’ve known her for about three years.’
    ‘You mean to say she started modelling for you when she was fifteen?’
    ‘Sixteen. I saw her sitting on a park bench with her father and was intrigued by her face. She looked utterly indifferent. A child, yet already bored with everything life might have to offer. I approached Herr Zeiler and we came to an arrangement. He has two more daughters — one suffers from a terrible cough and the other’s a cripple. I did some sketches of the one with the cough once: an engaging face — but not engaging enough.’ Rainmayr shook his head. ‘Herr Zeiler even brought the cripple here when he lost his job and begged me to use her too, but I’m not a charity.’ Rainmayr paused and asked: ‘Has Adele stolen something? Is that why you’re here?’
    Rheinhardt examined some drawings that had been stuck to the wall: more naked women in positions suggestive of self-exploration. He responded with a question of his own: ‘Did she say where she was going on Sunday?’
    ‘After leaving here?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘Ahh,’ said Rainmayr. ‘I see. Run off, has she? Now that wouldn’t surprise me.’
    ‘Why do you say that?’
    ‘I think she was getting tired of her situation. At home, I mean. She used to complain about it. She was supporting her family — more or less. You know how it is, inspector: an attractive young woman can always make money.’
    ‘She didn’t run away, Herr Rainmayr. Adele Zeiler was murdered.’
    The artist smiled, as if Rheinhardt was joking.
    ‘What are you talking about? Murdered!’
    ‘On Sunday night. Her body was found in the Volksgarten. She’d been stabbed.’
    Rainmayr touched the table to steady himself.
    ‘My God … Poor Adele. Murdered …’
    ‘Well, did she say where she was going?’
    Rainmayr looked up.
    ‘Yes, she said she was going to meet someone at a coffee house.’
    ‘Who?’
    ‘I don’t know. I presumed a man.’
    ‘Which coffee house?’
    ‘She mentioned Honniger’s — by