Frans declined a coffee and made himself comfortable in Father’s ornately carved walnut armchair, the cracked leather groaning beneath his weight. He rested his elbows on his corpulent rugby thighs and clasped his hands together tightly as his crooked gaze flicked from Otto to Dieter thoughtfully.
“I had a few beers with Willem Krause last night,” Frans said.
“Willem Krause?” Otto questioned.
“He’s an old friend, a local attorney. He’s the executor of your ma’s estate.”
“Oh shit! We’re meant to be meeting him today, aren’t we?” Dieter said.
“Tomorrow, I think,” Otto replied, then narrowed his eyes momentarily and shook his head. “Jesus, I can’t remember.”
“Ja, he said he hadn’t read the will to you yet.” Frans looked down at his hands briefly. “Anyway, this is somewhat unusual, but Lüderitz is a small place, as you guys well know. People talk.” Frans looked up at Otto and Dieter, both of whom stared back at him like puppets, waiting for him to pull their strings. “Willem asked me if I had identified the body in the garden yet.” Frans felt uncomfortable about what he knew, biting his lip and wringing his hands.
“You haven’t yet, have you?” Dieter said.
“No, no,” Frans said quickly. “But Willem was very interested.”
“Why would he be interested?” Dieter asked.
Frans shrugged, inclining his head self–consciously, then rubbed his unshaven chin with one hand. “We were just chatting, you understand, but I sensed that something in the will worries him.”
He saw Otto glance at Dieter. Both brothers sat on the edges of their seats, hands clasped together over their knees.
“You are a German family, ja?” Frans said.
Otto and Dieter nodded.
“That’s what we thought too.” He paused. “There’s something in the will about a Jewish person.” Frans stopped and held his hands up in surrender. “All I know is that Willem is worried about it, in the light of the body found in the garden. He simply wanted to know how the investigation is going.”
Otto frowned. “What does that mean?”
“I don’t know, guys. You’ll find out I’m sure when he reads the will.”
Frans could see that Otto and Dieter were perplexed and edgy, Otto appearing particularly pale and clammy as he fidgeted with his hands. Frans wished that Ingrid had been there as well.
“I couldn’t help but think immediately about our trip to Keetmanshoop,” Frans said.
“Christ! Neil Solomon,” Dieter blurted out, covering his mouth with a cupped hand.
“I don’t know if it has anything to do with him, but…” Frans began.
“How many other Jewish people are connected to our family?” Otto finished.
Frans nodded as a brief silence ensued, all three men sitting with hands clasped together, staring ahead into an uncertain void.
“Why are you telling us this?” Dieter asked.
Frans scratched at the bridge of his nose. “I think we should get Ingrid back here, in case there are issues relating to the will.”
“Issues?” Otto said.
“In any case,” Frans continued, “I should have the DNA results back pretty soon. It would be best if she was here.” He scratched self–consciously at his eyebrow. “It’s just my gut instinct as a policeman.”
Otto stood up and paced around the room. Frans leaned back in the armchair and placed the fleshy tips of his outstretched fingers together.
“So, you think there is a Jewish link with the body from the garden?” Otto asked, stopping to study Frans intently.
“I’m not thinking anything,” Frans said with a dismissive shrug. “I’ll wait for the evidence. Willem is concerned by something he’s seen in the will, that’s all… and I don’t know what that is.”
“Someone Jewish?” Dieter said, pensively.
“Ingrid doesn’t have any children, I’m pretty sure of that,” Otto said.
“You think she might have had a Jewish husband along the way?” Dieter said.
“I’ve never thought of it before,” Otto said. “Maybe. But she never had children.”
“What about you guys?” Frans said.
Dieter and Otto glanced at each other quickly.
“No!” Dieter said boldly. “I have no children.”
“And you, Otto?” Frans asked.
“I have two, and Sabine is first generation German.”
“What about Inez?” Dieter interjected. They all stared at him.
“Inez?” Otto said.
Dieter gestured with his arms. “Why not?”
Otto sat down again, and Frans could see that he had paled even further. He felt empathy for Otto, the youngest and potentially most vulnerable, having to deal with not only the loss of his mother but all of this additional unexpected baggage as well. Bad enough to discover after your mother has died that you had a sister whose existence was kept from you.
“Inez and Neil Solomon…” Otto said quietly, staring at the floor.
Frans slapped his thighs with the palms of his hands. “Look you guys, we’re speculating here, which isn’t doing any good.” He stood up. “Let’s get Ingrid back, see what Willem reveals tomorrow when he reads the will, and wait for the test results from England.”
“If they did have a child… where is it?” Dieter said, gesturing with both hands.
“Jesus,” Otto said, glancing towards the kitchen window. “You don’t think…?”