She wiped the tears from her cheeks with her sleeves and continued to gaze through the window, at the neatly trimmed boxwoods and the roof-shaped plane trees. Their branches were entwined with the bars of a trellis, on which she would hang garlands of peanuts and suet balls every winter. It was wonderful to watch the birds coming and going. Balm for the soul.

“I’ve heard that pigs will eat anything,” she suddenly heard Werner say.

She turned to face him abruptly. His blue eyes had a glassy look to them.

“Werner . . . that’s going too far. Seriously. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

8

8

The last rays of the sun fell through the windows of the restaurant and flooded the room with an ochre-yellow glow.

Naomi was sitting opposite Ralf at a table, stirring her raspberry milkshake with a straw. Her brown hair glittered with spots of golden light.

“Hey, buddy,” Ralf said into his phone, his eyes fixed on Naomi. “I’m looking for Brian. Have you seen him at all?”

“He’ll probably be at Naomi’s place.”

“Nope, he isn’t there.”

“Well, he must be somewhere.”

“I guess so. Thanks.” Ralf hung up. He’d called just about all their mutual friends. None of them had seen or spoken to Brian since Friday.

“No?” Naomi looked at him inquiringly. Her lips gleamed in a soft pink.

“No.” Ralf picked up the last piece of the burger from the box in front of him and used it to mop up the remnants of lettuce and sauce before eating it. Stress made him hungry.

He didn’t give anything away to Naomi, but with that last phone call, he had abandoned any hope that Brian was still alive. In truth, he’d known it since the evening it all happened—but knowing and accepting were two different things. He simply found it hard to believe that somebody had gotten the better of his friend. Brian seemed invincible, totally in charge of any situation. Then again, Biggie hadn’t been able to believe it either when he’d heard that Tupac had been shot dead in Vegas.

“Maybe he’s at his mother’s place,” said Naomi.

“I don’t have her number. Do you?”

Naomi shook her head. “I don’t know her very well. But I know where she lives. We could drive over there now?”

Ralf had already tried Brian’s mother’s house yesterday, but he didn’t tell Naomi that. He had known Emily for a while now. The first time he met her, he had taken her for Brian’s sister, or a neighbor. She didn’t look like anybody’s mother, let alone Brian’s. He must have inherited those mean, beady eyes from his father, as Emily had brown, Bambi eyes.

“Should we go?” Naomi urged.