The Devil's Opera(197)
Gustav started to move on to another guest, but paused for a moment, raising a hand again. He leveled a serious gaze at them both. “And thank you for your love of music during this difficult time.”
Neither of them knew what to say to that. Gustav nodded and turned away.
“What was that all about?” Marla whispered.
“I think you may have just received a thank you for “Do You Hear the People Sing?” Franz murmured.
* * *
Simon opened the door to their rooms. He and Ursula had returned there a few days after Hans’ funeral. Neither of them was comfortable in the big house on Gustavstrasse, for all that they had been made truly welcome. They had talked about it, and they both felt happier here, in this place that Hans had made his and theirs.
Simon was surprised to discover Gotthilf standing on the outside landing holding a book in his hands.
“Hi, Sergeant Hoch. Did you need something?”
“Is Fraulein Metzger up? I mean, is she dressed…er, available…”
Simon was fascinated to see just how dark a shade of red the detective could turn.
“May I speak with Fraulein Metzger, please?” Gotthilf finally got out.
“Sure. Let me get her.”
Simon left the detective standing on the landing, and went and knocked on Ursula’s door.
“Ursula?”
“What?” came the muffled reply.
“Sergeant Hoch is here, and he would like to speak with you.”
The door flung open so quickly it startled Simon. Ursula peeked out. “He’s here? To see me?”
Simon rolled his eyes. “Yes, to see you.”
Ursula fussed with her hair and her cap, tugged at her bodice, brushed off the front of her skirt. “Do I look all right?”
Simon rolled his whole head this time. “Yes. Now come on.”
Ursula followed him to the door.
“Here she is,” Simon said to Gotthilf. He stood in the doorway until Ursula pushed on him, then he stepped to one side.
“Good afternoon, Fraulein Metzger,” Gotthilf said very formally.
“Good afternoon to you as well, Sergeant Hoch,” Ursula replied, resting both her hands on the head of her cane.
“I, uh…” Gotthilf stammered, “Simon told me that you read the Bible a lot. I thought that you might like to have something else to read. I, uh…here.”
He thrust the book at Ursula. She received it, then turned it around so she could read the title.
“The City of God, by Saint Augustine.”
“It is a great book,” Gotthilf said, rather stiffly, “very enlightening and uplifting.”
Simon snickered. Ursula’s head swiveled until her eyes bore down on him twin gun barrels. “Don’t you have someplace else to be?” she asked crossly.
“Yes,” he said after a moment.
“Go there. Now.”
“Yes, Ursula.”
Simon squeezed out the door and around Gotthilf to clatter down the steps. At the bottom, though, instead of continuing on his way to the street, he ducked around and tiptoed under the landing. He thought he could hear them from there.
Sure enough, he could. Quite well, in fact.
“—fine gift,” Ursula was saying. “I am sure I will enjoy reading it.”
“It was given to me years ago by my grandmother.”
“Oh, I cannot take it, then,” Ursula said. “It must be important to you.”
“It is,” Gotthilf replied, “but I want you to have it.”
There was a moment of silence, then Ursula said, “All right. But why?”
There was a longer moment of silence. “It is a courting gift,” Gotthilf finally said.
“A courting gift? For me? You must be joking.”
“No, I am not.” That was said in a rather firm tone.
“But why me? I’m not pretty, I’m not well-educated…I am broken…” Ursula’s voice trailed off.
Simon heard Gotthilf take a step closer to Ursula. He wished he could see.
“Our Savior was broken, Fraulein Metzger,” Gotthilf said in a low tone, “and He is called beautiful.”
“But I am not the Savior,” she laughed, in a gulpy sort of way.
“But you are still beautiful.”
There was a very long silence after that. Simon tried to peek up through the boards of the landing, but he couldn’t see anything other than Gotthilf’s boots.
“Then I suppose,” Ursula finally said, “you had best call me Ursula…Gotthilf.”
* * *
Simon dropped into step with Sergeant Hoch as soon he stepped off the bottom step. “So, are you going to marry Ursula?” he asked.
“You heard,” Gotthilf said with a sidelong glance.
“I heard. Well, are you?”