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“Did they have nicknames?”
    “Who do you mean?” Terlinden seemed astonished by this question.
    “Stefanie and Laura.”
    “I don’t know. Why … oh yeah, Stefanie did. The other kids called her Snow White.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Maybe because of her last name. Schneeberger.” Terlinden frowned and slowed down. The school bus was already at the bus stop with its blinkers on, waiting for the few pupils who were going to Königstein.
    “No, that’s not right,” Terlinden said, remembering now. “I think it had something to do with a play that was going to be put on at the school. Stefanie had been given the leading role. She was supposed to play Snow White.”
    “Supposed to?” Amelie asked. “Didn’t she play the part?”
    “No. Before that she … um … she disappeared.”
    *   *   *
     
    The bread slices popped up from the toaster with a clack. Pia spread salted butter on both pieces, then a good layer of Nutella, and slapped the two halves together. She was virtually addicted to this unconventional combination of salty and sweet, and she enjoyed every bite, licking the melted butter and Nutella mixture off her fingers before it dripped onto the newspaper lying open before her. Yesterday’s discovery of a skeleton at the site of the old airfield was mentioned in a five-line filler, while the Frankfurter Neue Presse devoted four columns in their local section to the eleventh day of the trial of Vera Kaltensee. Today at nine Pia had to go before the district court and make her statement about the incidents in Poland last summer.
    Her thoughts wandered involuntarily to Henning. Yesterday the one cup of coffee they were going to have together had become three. He had talked to her more openly than he ever had during their sixteen years of marriage, but Pia had no advice on how to solve his current dilemma. Since the episode in Poland he had been together with Pia’s best friend Miriam Horowitz. Yet he had let himself be enticed—under circumstances he didn’t explain, to Pia’s regret—into climbing into bed with his ardent admirer, the prosecutor Valerie Löblich. Definitely a slipup, as Henning had insisted, but with dire consequences, because the Löblich woman was now pregnant. He was overwhelmed by the situation and toyed with the idea of fleeing to the United States. For years the University of Tennessee had been tempting him with the offer of a very lucrative position of great interest to a physician. As Pia pondered Henning’s problems and at the same time contemplated whether she should follow the first caloric overload with a second helping, Christoph emerged from the bathroom and sat down at the kitchen table across from her. His hair was still damp, and he smelled of aftershave.
    “Do you think you could manage to come tonight?” he asked, pouring himself a cup of coffee. “Annika would love to see you.”
    “If nothing comes up, it should be no problem.” Pia gave in to temptation and made herself another piece of toast. “I have to give a statement in court around nine, but otherwise we don’t have anything urgent.”
    Christoph grinned in amusement at the Nutella and butter combination and bit into his sensible and healthy black bread with cottage cheese. The mere sight of him still caused a warm tingle in Pia’s belly. Those dark-brown caramel-candy eyes of his had captivated her on their first encounter and had never lost their attraction. Christoph Sander was an impressive man who felt no need to flaunt his strong points. Although he didn’t possess the uncompromising good looks of Pia’s boss, his features had something remarkable about them that made people take another look. Above all it was his smile, which started in his eyes and then spread across his whole face, that always triggered in Pia the almost irrepressible desire to throw herself into his arms.
    She and Christoph had met two years earlier, when the investigation of a murder case had taken Pia to