The Silver Castle Read Online Free Page B

as you will. They may now, as you have clearly realised, prove to be worth a considerable sum of money.”
    I wanted to defend myself hotly, but I guessed that heated words would get me nowhere with this poised, sophisticated woman. Instead, I said patiently, “Please believe me, Frau Kreuder, it wasn’t the thought of claiming whatever paintings my father may have left that brought me out to Switzerland. I had always believed he died long ago, you see, before my mother married again. It was a great shock to learn that he had been alive all the while, and it made me long to discover more about him.”
    “Why should you have imagined he had died?” she demanded. “Is that what your mother told you?”
    “No, to be honest I don’t believe she ever did. I just took it for granted. I know it probably sounds strange to you, but my stepfather was very good to me, and I suppose that is why I never felt any curiosity about my real father. He was never mentioned at home, as far as I can remember, and it was as if he didn’t exist. To a child, that was the same as believing he was dead. The idea of a divorce never once occurred to me, but the other day I applied for a copy of her second marriage certificate, and when I collected this yesterday it stated that her first marriage had been dissolved. So she must have known all the time that my father was probably still alive. I felt... well, sad that I’d never had the chance to meet him. The best I could do was to find out more about him, what he’d been doing all these years. And I want to know, too, the reason why he took his own life. A friend of mind—my agent, actually—managed to discover that Benedict Sherbrooke had lived near Rietswil, and that’s why I’m here.”
    Frau Kreuder was silent, gazing into the fire as she considered what I’d told her. I knew that she found my explanations difficult to accept, and I couldn’t altogether blame her for questioning my motives. Even Colin had taken it for granted that I’d want to cash in on the situation.
    On a sudden impulse, I said, “You must have known my father well. Did he ever refer to me?”
    “Not recently, not for a long time. But when I first knew him, almost twenty years ago, he admitted, quite frankly, that he had deserted his wife and a baby daughter. Benedict was not proud of the fact, but he insisted that he’d had no option. The domestic scene inhibited his work. He should never have married, and when he realised his mistake he knew he had to sever all contact. You must not blame him too much, my dear. A man of genius is above the ordinary rules of behaviour.”
    Did I blame him? Perhaps he had acted for the best, but I still felt a sense of rejection that was like a dull throbbing in my breast. I knew it would remain with me for a long time. Perhaps forever.
    Frau Kreuder seemed suddenly to cast aside her doubts about me, as if my obvious distress had convinced her where my words had failed.
    “Now we must be practical,” she said. “Where are you staying, Gail ... I may call you Gail?”
    “Please do.”
    “And my first name is Sigrid. So, about your accommodation?”
    “I haven’t fixed anything yet, but I don’t expect I’ll have much difficulty. I was thinking of staying in the district for a couple of weeks, just to get the feel of the place and learn what I can about my father.”
    “Then why not stay here?” I must have shown my surprise, for she added smoothly, “Where better? We have plenty of room, and no other guests are expected during the time you’ll be staying. It would give me pleasure, Gail. Your father and I were close friends.”
    “It’s most kind of you,” I said, half uncertain about the wisdom of accepting.
    “Then that is settled. I am so glad. I will ring for Ursula to prepare a room for you.”
    Her summons was answered at once by a stolid woman dressed in a green nylon overall. Sigrid Kreuder gave her instructions in rapid dialect German, and the servant