Chapter 17
827 Words
Major Ziegler sat on the couch in Claudette Maes’ apartment, fussing over her purring cat. Bayer and Sternberg were in chairs across from him, neither speaking. The soldier stood in the kitchen, looking out the back window.
They had only been there a few minutes when a woman walked in the door. About thirty with blonde hair and brown eyes, she carried a bag in her arm, a loaf of bread sticking out of the top. “What is going on?” she asked, eyes wide.
“Come in,” Ziegler commanded.
She looked at Sternberg. “Jacob, what are you doing in my apartment?” She eyed the broken door jamb. “What did you do?”
“Claudette, someone stole the diamonds,” Sternberg said as he got out of the chair, trying to explain. “The industrial diamonds in the vault.”
Maes came closer, her face pale. “I didn’t do anything. I swear.”
“Sit down,” Ziegler said, distracted. “What a lovely cat you have Missen Maes. I’ve enjoyed getting to know him.”
Maes sat down, glancing at her bedroom, the opened door to her closet, and then looked at him strangely. “Thank you. He’s a good pet.” She put her groceries on the floor beside her, hands shaking, and glanced at the splintered jamb on her door. She seemed to understand her life was in danger.
Ziegler smiled, petting the cat that sat on his lap, its eyes drifting closed. “Where is your key to the diamond exchange?”
“It is here,” Maes said, holding up her key ring. “I used it yesterday.”
“After you stole the diamonds,” Ziegler said. He turned to the soldier. “Arrest this woman.”
“No, wait!” Maes protested. Tears welled in her eyes; fear flickered across her face. “I didn’t take the diamonds.”
“You were the last to leave the exchange,” Ziegler said. “You said yourself that you used your key.”
“I did,” Maes said, pleading. “But I used it to enter. I was the first to arrive yesterday morning. I unlocked the door.”
Ziegler studied the woman closely, searching for any sign she didn’t speak the truth. He glanced at Bayer, who gave him a slight shrug. “If I find out you’re lying, I will kill you.”
She gasped. “I’m not lying, I swear.”
“She’s a good woman,” Sternberg interjected. “She wouldn’t lie, and she didn’t steal the diamonds.”
Ziegler glared at Sternberg, who took a step back. “You have worked at the exchange six months,” he continued. “With so little experience, a diamond theft would be tempting.”
“I’ve only worked for Jacob for six months, but I came from one of the other exchanges.”
“Why did you leave?” Ziegler asked. “Because it was easier to steal diamonds from Herr Sternberg?”
“No, of course not. I left because the business changed hands. I’ve known Jacob for many years.”
“It’s true,” Sternberg said timidly. “I’ve known Claudette since she was a child.”
“And you trust her?”
“Yes, implicitly,” Sternberg said. “I trust all my employees.”
Ziegler studied the pair. It seemed they were telling the truth. They were both afraid, wide-eyed, trembling, sweating—aware that they were in serious trouble. He glanced at Bayer, nodding subtly.
“I have no reason to steal the diamonds,” Maes said, her gaze again shifting to her bedroom. “I make a good living.”
“No husband?” Ziegler asked abruptly.
“He’s gone,” she said. “With the army.”
“Where is your husband stationed?” Bayer asked, as if to confirm she spoke the truth.
She turned to face him, wiping a tear trailing down her cheek. “I don’t know where he is,” she said. “He had been at one of the forts outside the city. But I haven’t heard from him since they fell.”
“Claudette would never steal the diamonds,” Sternberg insisted. “And neither would I. Please, I beg you to believe us.”
Ziegler paused, studying two pale faces before him. He decided that neither was guilty of the theft. But he couldn’t let them know that. At least not yet.
“I swear, sir, I did not do anything wrong,” Maes pleaded.
“Who left the exchange after you did?” Ziegler asked.
She glanced at Sternberg. “We left together. All of us. Except…”
“Except who?”
“Mr. Peeters,” Maes said.
“He’s the older man I told you about,” Sternberg added.
“And who else?” Ziegler demanded.
“No one,” Maes replied. “He was alone.”
- Writer
