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bun.
    ‘I don’t understand how you can eat so many pastries and never get fat,’ said Miranda, looking at him with disgust.
    ‘Good genes,’ he said, grinning as he patted his flat stomach.
    ‘I guess you won the lottery in that respect,’ grumbled Miranda. ‘You got Mum and Dad’s good genes, while I got … Who the hell knows?’ And she laughed.
    ‘That’s probably the only good thing I got from them,’ he said with a wry smile.
    ‘I know.’ Miranda sighed. It was not the first time they had discussed this topic and concluded that neither of them had much in common with their parents.
    ‘So what do you think about all this?’ Bernard asked, taking another bite of the bun.
    ‘All this? Hmm …’ said Miranda.
    ‘Are you thinking the same thing I am?’ whispered Bernard.
    ‘That maybe he already changed his will?’ whispered Miranda in reply. ‘Yes, the thought did occur to me.’
    ‘Even so, there’s no reason to panic. We can always contest the will. I’m certain we can find witnesses who will testify that the old man was not in his right mind at the end.’
    ‘Maybe,’ said Miranda, looking sceptical. She was still aimlessly stirring her coffee, but now she stopped. ‘Who do you think killed him?’ she whispered, glancing around the room.
    ‘I have no idea,’ said Bernard. ‘Absolutely no idea.’ He stuffed the last bite of cinnamon bun in his mouth.
    Martin felt a numbing fatigue come over him, the result of consuming far too many biscuits and pastries. He knew he should search Ruben’s room to see if he could find anything that might propel the investigation forward, but first he decided to lie down and rest for a while. He needed a break so he could think everything through. To his annoyance, Lisette accompanied him up to their room. Instead of having some peace and quiet, he found himself lying on the bed next to her, listening to her babble.
    ‘I think it’s terrible that Uncle Gustav embezzled money from Grandpa’s company. And yet he has the gall to say such awful things about my father … How could anyone suggest that … that my father would … Oh, poor Pappa. You know, I’ve never been very fond of Uncle Gustav and Aunt Vivi. I have to admit that.’
    Martin sighed. In the early days he had found Lisette and her bubbly chatter so charming, but now, as if with the speed of lightning, she had ceased to be attractive to him. He knew now that their relationship had been a summer love affair that should have gone no further. Why did he always choose the wrong girlfriends? Sometimes he wondered if he’d ever find anyone to share his life. At the moment, it seemed highly unlikely. On the other hand, he wasn’t exactly ancient, so he still had time. But first he needed to untangle himself from this terrible blunder that he’d made.
    ‘I simply can’t understand how Gustav could be Bernard’s father. My cousin is such a handsome and stylish guy,’ Lisette was saying. ‘Vivi was pretty when she was younger. I’ve seen pictures of her. So maybe that’s where he gets his good looks. And Miranda is beautiful. Don’t you think so, Martin?’
    From Lisette’s tone of voice Martin sensed that he was stepping into a minefield, and the best policy would be to ignore the question entirely. So he feigned a snore and hoped that Lisette would be fooled into thinking that he’d dozed off. Thank God, it must have worked, because she didn’t repeat the question.
    A moment later he fell asleep for real.
    Martin sat up with a jolt and quickly realized that he’d slept for over an hour. He cursed as he tossed aside the blanket. The other side of the bed was empty and cold, so Lisette must have left quite a while ago. Annoyed, he ran his hand through his tousled hair and stepped out into the corridor. Out of the corner of his eye he glimpsed two shadows hurriedly disappearing at the sound of his door opening. He dashed after them, but when he reached the stairs, they were gone. He