Dr Roth was delighted. The experiment he’d mostly funded out of his own pocket was a complete success.
He was almost regretting not being able to continue, but the rehabilitation hall he was blocking was urgently needed and, in any case, no more success could be expected from this set-up.
‘We’re done then?’ Konrad asked beside him, watching two removal men like a hawk as they took away his sofa. After his chat with Emma the defence lawyer had gone for a walk in the park to get some fresh air. Now he looked refreshed.
‘The charade is over?’
Konrad had to raise his voice because in front of and behind him cordless screwdrivers buzzed as they took apart the wall panels. The air was heavy with the aroma of wood shavings, a smell Roth had loved since childhood. He’d attended a school with a strong artistic focus. Carpentry was part of the core curriculum, which maybe explained his penchant for creative methods.
‘Yes, I think we’re done,’ Roth replied. ‘Unless Frau Stein disclosed something else to you that could be important for my work.’
‘Client confidentiality,’ Konrad grinned, but then waved his hand dismissively. ‘No, to tell you the truth she was all over the place. She expressed suicidal thoughts, so you’ve really got to keep an eye on her.’
‘Don’t worry, we’re geared up for that possibility.’ Roth scratched his receding hairline. ‘I’m afraid that reaction was only to be expected.’
‘Why?’
‘We’ve seriously rocked Frau Stein’s world.’
Roth pointed to the bookshelf with the complete works of Schopenhauer. One of the cameras was still in the spine of The World as Will and Representation.
‘And at the moment she can’t see any way of putting it back in order,’ Roth said.
‘Hey, hey. Please be careful!’ Konrad excused himself for a moment and went up to one of the removal men who was trying to yank the round O rug from under the coffee table.
‘That’s for the dry cleaner’s, not the dustbin.’
‘Is that an enso?’ asked Roth, who’d followed him.
Konrad gave him an admiring look. ‘Do you know about Zen symbolism?’
‘A little,’ Roth smiled, pointing to the black edging of the white rug. ‘In Zen art an enso, or circle, is painted with a single flowing brushstroke. Only those who are mentally composed and balanced can paint a uniform enso. For that reason, the way the circle is executed gives us a particularly good idea of the painter’s state of mind.’
‘I take my hat off to you,’ Konrad laughed. The worker had now exited with the coffee table under his arm. The other packers too were taking items outside, leaving Konrad and Roth alone for the moment. ‘I didn’t know you were a philosopher manqué.’
Roth nodded, seemingly lost in thought. His fingers grasped the threads of the enso rug again, then he stood up. For one last time he allowed his gaze to roam the replica office, then he asked Konrad, almost incidentally, ‘You were practically inseparable from her, weren’t you?’
‘I’m sorry?’
‘You always had to have her there. Be near her.’
‘What on earth are you talking about?’ Konrad said, slightly put out.
Instead of giving an answer Roth looked at the fluff in his hand, which he’d just plucked from the rug. The fibres were dark brown and unusually thin for a rug. Almost like hair.
‘In Philipp’s laboratory they found the trophies from all the victims, apart from Emma,’ the psychiatrist said, looking Konrad straight in the eye.
The defence lawyer turned pale and seemed to age from one moment to the next. The firm ground of Konrad’s self-assurance had suddenly become a trapdoor.
‘What the hell are you getting at?’
Roth replied with a question of his own: ‘Are you not surprised by all the time and money that’s gone into this, Professor Luft?’ The psychiatrist opened up his arms as if seeing the set-up for the first time. ‘A completely furnished replica lawyer’s office, HD television, hidden cameras and microphones. And all just to free a paranoid patient from her hallucinations?’
‘What’s going on?’ Konrad asked flatly. His gaze wandered helplessly across the set, looking for a way out.
But before he’d found one, Roth let the guillotine of truth come swishing down. ‘We were observing you, not Emma!’