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rain was getting heavier and heavier. We confirmed this. The rain was thundering down on the old house so loudly that my partner shivered, drew the cardigan around her more tightly, and leaned against me as if in search of protection. Heinrich asked if she was scared of thunderstorms. No, she replied, but the combination of a heavy downpour and a psychopathic murderer roaming around on the loose created an atmosphere that transcended the bounds of normalcy. If there were another knock, Heinrich shouldn’t open the door so unthinkingly; she hoped he hadn’t forgotten to lock it after his last trip to the cellar. She was assured that it was securely locked.
    Eva urged us to go on with our game and, above all, not to widen the discussion. At around 10:15, I went to the bathroom. When I returned to the living room, my partner and Eva were standing, talking beside the kitchen dresser. They were clearly visible to me because the passage connecting the living room and kitchen was short and straight. Heinrich was seated in front of the television, looking at the news. I perched on the arm of my chair.
    Heinrich said public holidays were a mystery to him; he’d thought there weren’t any newspapers on Easter Sunday. I told him I shared that view, but Heinrich said the
Kronen Zeitung
was bringing out an edition containing an illustrated sixteen-page report on the murders; it had just been advertised. Perhaps it was just a one-time edition, I said. Heinrich promised to go and get a copy by car early tomorrow morning. Unfortunately, the nearest newsstand was situated several miles away. That was one of the disadvantages of living in such a remote spot.
    He called to the women in the kitchen, asking where they’d gotten to. We could go on with our game, he said. When there was no response, he went to persuade them to return. I followed him out, so I witnessed Eva reproaching Heinrich for giving themurder story no rest. She didn’t feel like going on with the game as long as the remote control was within his reach.
    Laughing, Heinrich promised not to turn it on again until 11:30, even though we would, with such tragic finality, have missed the wonderful televised Mass. We were heretics, he said; we hadn’t even had our food consecrated.
    Eva was about to reply when we heard a crash upstairs. We all stared at each other.
    What was that? my partner exclaimed.
    Heinrich shrugged his shoulders.
    There’s someone up there, my partner cried loudly.
    Before we could respond in any way, she reiterated her cry of alarm and dashed to the front door. She turned the key twice and wrenched it open, evidently intending to leave the house just as she was, dressed only in a cardigan, T-shirt, and jeans with panties underneath, and wearing no shoes on her stocking feet.
    Heinrich restrained her. She mustn’t go imagining things, he said; there was no one upstairs, but if it would reassure her, he’d go and look. My partner did, in fact, come to a halt. She even locked the door again, but she refused to leave the spot.
    Heinrich went to a medium-sized chest in the passage and took out a flashlight because he might have to go up into the loft, which had no electric light installed. Did he mean to go up there by himself? my partner demanded. Was he crazy?
    Heinrich answered the first question in the affirmative, the second in the negative.
    I offered to accompany him. My partner said she wouldn’t let me; it might be better to call the police and enlist their help. Heinrich told her not to be ridiculous. The police quickly became overburdened with such calls and unable to perform their proper duties in a regulation manner.
    To simplify the situation, I suggested that all four of us go; that way, no one need be worried about anyone else.
    What gives you that idea? my partner demanded; she would be all the more worried about herself and everyone else. No one and nothing would induce her to go up there. She would sooner summon help from the