Chapters (50)
- Praise
- Title Page
- Copyright Page
- Dedication
- Epigraph
- ONE
- TWO
- THREE
- FOUR
- FIVE
- SIX
- SEVEN
- EIGHT
- NINE
- TEN
- ELEVEN
- TWELVE
- THIRTEEN
- FOURTEEN
- FIFTEEN
- SIXTEEN
- SEVENTEEN
- EIGHTEEN
- NINETEEN
- TWENTY
- TWENTY-ONE
- TWENTY-TWO
- TWENTY-THREE
- TWENTY-FOUR
- TWENTY-FIVE
- TWENTY-SIX
- TWENTY-SEVEN
- TWENTY-EIGHT
- TWENTY-NINE
- THIRTY
- THIRTY-ONE
- THIRTY-TWO
- THIRTY-THREE
- THIRTY-FOUR
- THIRTY-FIVE
- THIRTY-SIX
- THIRTY-SEVEN
- THIRTY-EIGHT
- THIRTY-NINE
- FORTY
- FORTY-ONE
- FORTY-TWO
- EPILOGUE
- AUTHOR’S NOTE
- Teaser chapter
“Then make it something noble,” she said. “Do something better. Something selfless and unmercenary. I’m sure you can think of a noble thing you could do. For Eric, perhaps.”
“I don’t know. Where’s the profit in doing something selfless and unmercenary?”
“Oh, I can tell you,” she said. “If you’ve got the time and patience to listen. And the willingness to make a change in your life.”
I knew she was talking about religion. It wasn’t one of my favorite topics of conversation, especially with her. “No, but maybe there is something I could do,” I said, quickly changing the subject. “Something sort of noble. At least, it’s as noble an idea as I’m capable of thinking up without a couple of drinks inside me.”
“Then let’s hear it,” she said. “I’m in the mood to be impressed by you.”
“My dear girl, you are always in the mood to be impressed by me,” I said. “Which I am unable to account for. You look at me and you seem to think I can do no wrong. I can and I do.” I paused for a moment and then added: “Tell me, do you really think I look a lot like Eric?”
She nodded. “You know you do, Bernie.”
“And there was just his mother, right?”
“Yes. Just his mother.”
“And she didn’t know he was in a wheelchair?”
“She knew he’d been badly injured,” she said. “But that’s all. Nothing more specific.”
“Then answer me this,” I said. “Do you think I could pass for him? In Vienna. With his family lawyers.”
She looked me square in the face and thought about that for a moment and then started to nod. “That’s a great idea,” she said. “As far as I know, he hasn’t been back to Vienna in twenty years. People can change a lot in twenty years.”
“Especially the last twenty years,” I said, wiggling my fingers. “I used to be the church organist. Where’s his passport?”
“It’s a brilliant idea,” she said enthusiastically.
“It’s not very noble,” I said.
“But it’s practical. And maybe in this particular situation, practical is better than noble. I’d never have thought of something like that.”
Engelbertina stood up and opened a bureau from which she removed a manila envelope. She handed me the envelope.