It was a call heard from slightly farther away than those of the reporters. Annette, who had kept her head bowed the entire time, turned involuntarily.
“……am...! I am... of....”
The woman’s voice was once again buried in the clamor and the sound of rain. The woman, who appeared to be an ordinary citizen rather than a reporter, wore an expression of extreme urgency and desperation.
The woman shouted something as she pushed through the reporters and emerged. Whatever it was she had said, the reporters holding cameras started in surprise and turned to look at her one by one.
The murmurs slowly died down. The eyes of everyone in the hall were fixed on the woman. The woman looked straight at Annette and opened her mouth.
“I am David Berkel’s sister!”
Until then, Annette had not known who ‘David Berkel’ was. It was a name she was hearing for the first time.
“I have something I must say to Mrs. Valdemar!”
Annette’s eyes widened slightly.
*Me? Why?*
There had been countless words spoken about Annette. But that was merely a situation of many against one, and the only ones who wanted to speak with Annette one-on-one were the reporters.
At the woman’s words, the reporters began to buzz. Similar interest flashed across each of their faces. Cameras and notepads turned toward her.
“David Berkel? Are you the sister of Mr. Berkel who shot Mrs. Valdemar?”
“Is this your younger brother’s intention? What brings you to find the Lady?”
“Rose Schwartz of Graphic! Would a separate interview be possible?”
“Do you have any words you heard from David Berkel?”
“No, I—!”
At the woman’s shrill cry, the surroundings fell silent for a moment. Without so much as a glance at the reporters—she had been gazing only at Annette from beginning to end.
For some reason, her heart thumped heavily against that clear and vivid gaze—one that, paradoxically, made it impossible to read any emotion.
The woman’s lips opened slowly.
“……I wish to meet Mrs. Valdemar personally. I came because I had no other choice, as my attempts to reach her failed, and I do not wish to give any interview to you.”
“Clear the surroundings quickly.”
Over her head, Heiner muttered to an attendant. It was a voice as cold as always, yet somehow seeming angry.
“Then I shall await your contact, Madam.”
Her final words were drowned out by the reporters’ questions and were barely audible. Heiner pulled the blankly standing Annette tightly into his arms.
“Get in quickly.”
“Wai—...”
“Quickly.”
A firm voice fell.
Annette wanted to examine the woman’s face closely, but she had no choice except to walk as if being pushed along, guided by the arm wrapped around her shoulders.
“Mrs. Valdemar, just one answer....”
“Do you know the reason....”
Every sound receded to an arm’s length from her ears, merely buzzing like noise. Annette caught her breath in the familiar scent emanating from Heiner.
Her mind was entirely a mess, yet the quiet woman’s face alone was strangely vivid upon her retina.
*That woman... where have I seen her?*
Annette thought it inadvertently and only belatedly realized. She whipped her head around to look at the woman again. Her vision blurred and cleared repeatedly.
She had seen that woman somewhere. But beyond that vague certainty, nothing came to mind.
Was she a commoner? When had she seen her? Where? Had the woman harbored resentment toward her then? What on earth had she done to her?
If she could not remember to this extent, they could not have been acquainted. She had perhaps only passed her by a few times....
*……Is my memory even accurate in the first place?*
Her tightly closed lips trembled faintly.
Recently, Annette had been plagued by forgetfulness. Despite a past in which she had memorized hundreds of pages of sheet music, she frequently made mistakes, unable to remember even trivial things.
By now, Annette had grown doubtful even of her own sense of déjà vu regarding the woman.
While her thoughts wandered in confusion, they had already reached the car. An attendant opened the door. Even then, Annette and the woman did not take their eyes off each other.
Heiner pushed her inside the car. As he boarded the seat beside her immediately after, their line of sight was cut off. Thud—the car door closed.
The reporters pressed against the window. The vehicle rolled onto the road. The flashing lights of cameras receded behind them.
“……Who is she?”
“She is indeed the sister of the arrested David Berkel.”
“That is not what I am asking.”
“Then?”
“I mean, some kind of... related to me...”
Annette, who had been rambling, trailed off. She felt that trying to explain something she herself was not certain of would only make her seem a fool to him.
“……It’s nothing.”
A heavy gaze fell upon the back of Annette’s lowered head. He asked in a voice that sounded almost indulgent.
“What is it you wish to know?”
“Why....”
Before she knew it, the words slipped out.
“Why would she come looking for me?”
Annette continued dazedly, her gaze fixed on her own hands resting on her lap and the empty air nearby.
“What reason could she have for wanting to meet me personally? Without saying anything to the reporters....”
“It would be for her younger brother’s clemency. Do not think deeply of it.”
“It didn’t seem to be for that reason alone. And... what did she mean when she said she couldn’t reach me?”
Annette turned to Heiner and spoke as though interrogating him.
“You know something, don’t you?”
“……She sent letters a few times.”
He surprisingly admitted it upfront.
“Then why were they not delivered to me?”
“I judged that there was no need to deliver letters from the criminal’s sister to you, who are the victim and patient.”
“That is for me to judge, Heiner.”
Annette did not particularly believe his excuse. She thought there must be some other reason. From the start, there was no way he would be so considerate of her situation.
“Have there been other letters not delivered to me in this manner until now?”
Heiner did not answer. Annette read an affirmation in that silence.
She was not particularly angry or annoyed. She merely felt as though some inner part of her chest had been worn away. Annette fiddled with her handbag strap and spoke in a low voice.
“I want to meet her.”
“Will you not ask more about the letters?”
“It is already in the past, so no.”
“Does that mean you do not care from now on as well?”
For a moment, Annette’s hand paused. She looked at him with a slightly strange expression. She felt a sense of dissonance in his words.
*From now on as well....*
Was Heiner assuming that they had a future? What exactly was the future he envisioned? Was he truly prepared to bear everything and look toward that future?
For some reason, she found it laughable.
“......Never mind that. Were her number or address written in the letters? If not, find out for me. In place of the intercepted letters.”
“Madam, there is no reason at all to meet—”
“And there is no reason to ask for permission either.”
Because her usual manner of speaking was weak, her words did not sound firm at all. At a glance, one might think she was pleading.
However, though Heiner still wore a displeased expression, he nodded without further objection.
“......I shall take measures. However, personal protection will accompany you.”
Since she had expected as much, Annette accepted it. She did not know why, but he was not as overbearing as before.
Annette turned her head as if that answer settled the matter. A single fallen leaf brushed past the car window. The trees, now mostly bare of leaves, had already become gaunt.
***
The woman’s name was Katrin Grot.
Katrin lived with her husband, to whom she had been married for less than six months, running a fruit business on 23 Western Road.
Even upon hearing her name and address, Annette could not recall who she was. The name was unfamiliar, and there was no connection to the address whatsoever.
Holding a slip of paper in one hand, Annette slowly turned the dial of the telephone exchange. A phone number was written on the slip.
Once the line was connected through the exchange, a ringtone sounded. Annette held the receiver anxiously and swallowed once. After a long ringing, the call connected.
[Yes, this is Brunner Grot.]
“......Are you Katrin’s husband?”
[I am, but who is this?]
For some reason, the question of who she was left her at a loss for words. After a brief silence, Annette hesitantly opened her mouth.
“Could you... deliver a message to Mrs. Grot? Ask her to visit my residence tomorrow or the day after. I’ve granted entry permission, so she only needs to give her name.... She will know if you tell her that.”
A strange tension hung in the air after she finished speaking. Whether the other party guessed her identity, there was a brief silence.
As her husband, there was no way he was unaware of his wife and her brother’s affairs. Unable to know what words he had heard about them, Annette’s nerves were on edge.
Before long, a businesslike answer came across.
[......Understood. I shall relay it to Katrin.]
“Yes, thank you.”
Annette waited for the other party to hang up first, but the call remained unbroken, silence passing between them. Unable to endure it, she set the receiver down first.
Silence descended with a click. For some time afterward, Annette stood unable to remove her hand from the receiver.
In truth, there had been no need to go out of her way to contact Katrin first. It was highly unlikely the woman held any goodwill toward Annette, and as Heiner said, her goal was most likely clemency.
Even so, strangely, Annette felt she had to hear her story.
What had happened, why she had done it, what feelings she had toward her, what words she wanted to say, and furthermore, what words she herself ought to say.
Perhaps it was the first and last opportunity to face her past.
Even if it meant wounding herself.......