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Authors: Claudio Ruggeri

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BOOK: The Discordant Note
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“Your house is very tastefully decorated, Mrs. Singer, I have to congratulate with you”.

“Eh ... you Italians always do compliments, even when there’s no need ... tell me ...  has Ralf suffered, Commissioner?”.

“No, I do not think he did; I think he didn’t even realized what was happening”.

“Poor Ralf ...  What about the investigation, Mr. Germano?”.

“I could tell we're at a good point, that we are now breathing down the neck of the murderer and things like these, but if I came to talk to you, you must have understood how, unfortunately, the reality is far different from that ... but I get the impression that my journey was not in vain when listening to the way you talk about Brandenburg ...”.

“You guess right, Commissioner, you did right to come to me ... and I think you’ve guessed that the story is quite long and dates back so long time ago”.

“I'm here to listen, madam”.

“Well ... I met Ralf thirty five years ago in an Italian restaurant here in Monaco; it was curious enough the way we met ... he accidentally spilled some of its fettuccine on me, sitting behind him; he always said that an accident had brought us together ... even though I basically have never believed this story. Going forward in time, as I knew him, I started to think that maybe those fettuccine did not fall on my skirt and t-shirt only for a quirk of fate, that day ... Ralf was capable of anything”.

“I have not the slightest doubt, madam”.

“Yeah ... and then with the excuse to make amends for what he had done, he invited me to go out for an afternoon coffee; believe me when I say that the evening before that coffee, I could not sleep at all, Commissioner ...”.

“Why? Did Brandenburg frighten you in any way?”.

“Yes, terribly, it was as if I already knew I was going to start something that would change my life, something you will not forget in one night and that ...”.

“Was you in love with him?”.

“At that time I was not yet, but I knew that it would happen”.

“I do not think there's anything wrong with that, Mrs. Singer...”.

“No, indeed, beautiful things are never wrong ... anyway, from that day onwards we started hanging out diligently throughout that year, and then for the next one, and the third one and so on until the summer of 1983”.

“What happened to that particular year?”.

“I need to tell you something before, Commissioner, my family has always been well off, my father and my grandfather before him, has been in the steel business, and in addition to being rich we have always been in the public eye, while Ralf ... just say that his family tree was not exactly the same as mine”.

“Explain yourself better ...”.

“His parents were honest people, for heaven's sake, only that the mother was a housewife and his father a laborer and that could hardly make Ralf appear different from what he was ... only that, the man who later became the great Brandenburg, had nerves and heart made of steel and, despite everything, he could study piano and then violin only thanks to the thousands of jobs he did during the day, you see ... he liked to say that his days were divided into two parts, the first began shortly after sunrise and it was made ​​of sweat, humiliation and melancholy, while the second one was filled with music and love”.

“I guess the word love was referring to you ...”.

“Exactly, indeed I got pregnant during that summer of 1983”.

“What did the Master say about that?”.

“He was surprised, almost shocked, but not for the mere fact of becoming a father but for the whole series of changes that would have come later; Commissioner ... you see ... our relationship was kept a secret all along those five years”.

“May I ask you the reason for all the secrecy?”.

“It was actually an idea of Ralf, he kept telling me that if we were out in the open, at the end we would have been forced to spend the whole day in giving explanations to everybody, we would have lost our intimacy without obtaining anything, because, as he said, normal people are mediocre and sad, and it is useless to try to explain them certain things because they simply do not understand”.

“A nice guy, huh?”.

“You can say that out loud ... in the end I gave birth while he was already in Italy for work; he had begun in those years his collaboration with a film production company which I think went on until a few years ago”.

“Can we say he left you?”.

“I felt hurt it’s true, but I believe that if our daughter needed a father to have lunch and dinner, I’m sure that Ralf would have stayed, but in my house there were none of these problems,   so ... let's say that ...”.

“What did you tell your family, Mrs. Singer?”.

“The truth, at least I told everything to my father, he was a man who understood the weakness, indecision and the fragility of the human being; my mother was different, she was not so

open-minded, but in the end we decided to arrange a marriage of convenience with the son of one of the industry's friend of my father and we made pass off Corinna as she was his daughter”.

During this last sentence the expression in the face of Vincent Germano suddenly changed, his interlocutor noticed that but pretended not to have noticed and went on.

“Things with my husband, as you can imagine, were not so good, Commissioner, and we found ourselves living in separate rooms after only six months of marriage ... but this is life,   isn’t it?”.

“Sometimes it is ... Corinna has never known her father, that you know? The real one I mean ...”.

“Of course! We continued to be in touch during these years, a couple of times a year we could even meet and we couldn’t stop  talking about Corinna, then, when she's grown up, we agreed they have to meet each other, and it happened”.

“When?”.

“Five or six years ago, Commissioner”.

“I guess it was good for both of them, right?”.

“It was ... I think Ralf eventually regretted for leaving so many years ago, avoiding to face the situation; the price to pay for such a superficiality was his daughter, and even though he never said I know he did”.

“I do not doubt, Mrs. Singer ... do you know how often your daughter saw her father? Did she go to Italy or was it only him to return to Monaco?”.

“From the question that you made me, Commissioner, I deduce you already know about Ralf’s journeys to Germany, so I do not think my answer would add anything new, while about Corinna, I think you can ask her directly, rather, I’m convinced that it is the best thing to do”.

“How ... ?”.

“You can go to Amalienstraße, at number 98, you'll find her there, I am sure that Mr Kaiser will be happy to be with you”.

“You're a very special woman, aren’t you, Mrs. Singer?”.

“It depends on your point of view ... you’ll need to ask for Corinna Adler”.

“I will”.

Germano reported word by word, to his German colleague, the entire conversation he had with Ms. Singer; the whole journey that would have taken them to Amalienstraße, was only a long monologue by the Italian commissioner; Theodor Kaiser, as his style, avoided any comment on the matter.

As they got near the house of Corinna Adler, Germano was sent down from the car and directed to the right building; this time, his German counterpart, indeed, would have waited for him in the same spot where he had parked the car before Germano went out.

The building that the commissioner was facing this time, was quite different from the previous one; it was quite austere and with little attention to detail.

Not finding any caretaker on his way, Germano went immediately to the intercoms and began to observe them one by one from the bottom, in search of the surname Adler; the families who lived in that building were a total of thirty, the commissioner found the name he was looking for in the middle of the list.

He rang the intercom and, a few moments later, a woman's voice said something in German, words that sounded absolutely incomprehensible to the commissioner, who found no better thing to do than trying to say something in his own language, as a reflex.

“I speak Italian, I'm a Police Commissioner and ...”.

Germano heard the click indicating that the door had been opened and then the same voice that had answered the intercom, invited him to climb up to the third of the five floors of the building.

As he went out of the elevator, he faced a girl with brown hair, green eyes, fair skin and at least fifteen inches higher than the commissioner.

She introduced herself as Corinna Adler and led Germano into the second apartment they met continuing along the corridor; the German girl opened the door that had been left ajar and motioned to the commissioner to go in.

The apartment size was markedly different from the one he had visited just before and that it was actually inhabited by the girl’s mother. Here, the furnishings appeared quite spartan but highly functional; everything, indeed, from chairs to the kitchen utensils, did not seem to be there by accident.

Once Germano sat on one of the chairs resting by the table that filled the room, it was the same Corinna Adler to break the silence and to remove him from embarrassment.

“You won’t believe me but I was expecting your visit, Commissioner”.

“It was your mother to tell you I would have come, wasn’t she?”.

“No, I've read some articles in the newspapers where it was said that you were the officer in charge for the investigation about my father’s death, so I figured out that sooner or later you would have found me... maybe not so soon, though”.

“Why, then, didn’t you show up on your own accord? Maybe getting me a phone call to the police station in Italy? ... Am I wrong?”.

“You are not wrong, Commissioner, it's just ... the useful information I have to tell you are little and then ... I am a perfect stranger to Mr. Ralf Brandenburg, legally speaking ... how could I come to you and ask questions about the investigation?”.

“You could have done the same thing I actually did; look, I'm not here
officially
, I have no jurisdiction in your Country and I can not force anyone to open his house to me nor question anyone ... but, maybe because I had nothing in my hands to investigate on, and thanks to the cooperation of the German Police and your own mother, I decided to play this card as well”.

“The truth is that you Italians, Commissioner, have much more imagination and ability to improvise than us Germans”.

“A little bit too shallow as an explanation, don’t you think Mrs. Adler?”.

“Maybe ... feel free to ask me anything you want”.

“Um ... where do you think the murderer of your father is now?”.

“I would say in Italy, my father was loved by women and I think he went out with more than one woman there in Italy, that's where I would think to look for the murderer, but since you’re here now, Commissioner... it is reasonable to think that things are not like that”.

“You are a smart girl ... I see you know many details of your father’s private life, in which relationships were you?”.

“Let's say a cordial respect, some time ago he began to fear he might die at any moment, so he thought to show up with me to make me aware of his heritage and income from royalties he wanted me to inherit”.

“He was still young, your father, I mean ... you do not think so assiduously to death at sixty, unless ..”.

“Look, Commissioner, I believe the story that he was going to die was nothing more than an excuse to get closer to me, after he had decided to leave thirty years ago”.

“What did you tell him about this?”.

“I told him that I did not care about money, that he could also devolve all his money to charity; it was money, the one he didn’t have at the time and he was ashamed for not having more, that did divide us in the past, so I did not see why they would have united us now”.

“You were in touch anyway? I mean ...”.

“Yes, we were, Commissioner, sometimes he came here to Monaco but more often it was me to go and see him in Italy, the last time was just last week”.

“Last week?”.

“Yes, I arrived on Saturday and I came back to Germany on Tuesday, four days ago, to be exact”.

“How did you see him?”.

“My father wanted to make everything look normal but ...”.

“What are you referring to, when saying
everything
, exactly?”.

“Our situation ... but I can not say I found him sad or worried, he was ... normal”.

“Okay ... I need a confirmation that only you could give me at the moment ... did your father teach only piano?”.

“At first; but then during the second part of his career, he also began to study the violin, so lately he used to teach how to play violin as well, or at least that's what he told me”.

“It's probably the truth ... what can I say ...? I promise you that we will do our best to find out who killed your father”.

To this last statement of the commissioner, Ms. Corinna Adler answered hinting of a smile, then, realizing how their conversation was concluded, she rose and led Germano outside the apartment.

Once they got to the elevator, the German girl began to behave as if she didn’t want the commissioner to leave; Vincent Germano noticed how her glance was so different from the one she had directed to him throughout the recent interview, as if she wanted to actually add something else. That’s why the commissioner thought it was a good idea to wait a few seconds before to called the elevator up to the third floor.

“May I ask you something, Germano? Although I would not be legally allowed to”.

“Sure”.

“Find out who killed my father, do it”.

The nod that the commissioner made with ​​his head, seemed to be enough to Corinna Adler, who remained standing there, motionless, for the next long while, until she saw the Germano’s face disappearing behind the elevator doors.

Theodor Kaiser, who in the meantime had managed to get almost to the end of the book he was reading, was actually surprised at seeing Germano already going back after half an hour; remembering, indeed, the meeting they had with Ms. Singer, he had predicted for himself a long wait to be served with the pages of a good book.

From the moment he sat in the car until they were back to the police station, the Italian commissioner was not very talkative; during the ride, his German colleague, as Germano had already had the opportunity to appreciate, made ​​no questions and did not even seem to search for some indiscretion on the investigation.

BOOK: The Discordant Note
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