The air was heavy with the smell of cabbage.

“Lunch is not ready.’’ Anika flailed birdlike arms. “I do apologize.”

Rina smiled. “It’s not a problem.” Up close, Anika was wrinkled, her face furrowed and drooping with fatless skin. But her blue eyes sparkled, as did her teeth, though Rina suspected they were dentures. “The food smells wonderful, Miss Lubke, but unfortunately we can’t eat it. We’re kosher—”

“Ach! But of course.”

“I insist that you eat when it’s ready.” Rina inhaled deeply. “I’m sure it’s my loss. What is it?”

“Hvidkälsrouletter—cabbage roll with meat. I can make up some vegetarian.”

“No, no, no,” Rina said. “Please don’t bother. If you want to serve us anything, I wouldn’t mind some tea.”

“And you, Lieutenant Decker?”

“Tea is fine.”

“Kommt sofort! Right away.” She moved with a sprightly walk. A minute later, she returned from the unseen kitchen. “I put the water up to boil. Marta is in church. We were odd—Lutherans in Bavaria. The state is very Catholic, their churches rococo in style because it is near Italy. Also, there were many Russian aristocrats in Bavaria, so the churches have that onion-dome Russian architecture. Inside, they are filled with marble and gold, with angels and cherubs floating in a sky that is painted on the ceiling. It is not my idea of Heaven.”

Her speech had the singsong inflections of those who spoke Nordic languages.

“Anyway, Marta will return soon. Ah, the kettle boils. I’ll be back.”

After she left, Rina whispered, “How old is she?”

“Eighty-four or -five. Maybe even closer to ninety.”

“The woman has energy.”

“So does your mother. They must have grown them strong in the Old Country.”

Rina tapped her toe. Neither she nor Peter had sat down. Anika came back with a tray. “Sit, sit. Please.”

Decker sat. The sofa was as uncomfortable as it looked, with its stiff back and no lumbar support. By using pillows, Rina managed to ease herself into a decent position. Anika poured tea, then perched on the edge of a chair, her spine ramrod straight.

Maybe discomfort was a cultural thing.

Rina sipped tea. “Thank you for seeing us.”

“Thank you for contacting us. I must say I was very shocked. Who thinks to hear from seventy-year-old ghosts? That’s how long it has been since your mother I’ve seen.”

“I can understand how surprised you must have felt.”

“Very.” She poured herself a mug of tea and sipped slowly. “It brought back memories very hidden. I don’t remember your grandmother’s death individually, but the deaths as a group I remember. I think that they scared my mother. Soon after your mother moves away, we move … to Hamburg.”

“You told me you married an Englishman,” Decker said. “How’d that happen?”

“Ach, such a long and traurig story.”

“‘Traurig’ is sad,” Rina said.

Decker said, “I didn’t mean to pry.”

Anika smiled. “But you didn’t. I wrote to you in my e-mail that I married an Englishman.” She thought a moment. “The people are all dead. I’ll tell it to you. In Hamburg, I met my husband when I was seventeen.”