The Stronger Sex Read Online Free Page B

above, Klofft’s voice. I couldn’t make out what he was saying, but he seemed to be raising his voice and speaking abusively. Then I heard a door latch. I quickly went into the living room and sat down in the same chair as before.
    Cilly Klofft was smiling as she came in. She asked if I’d like a glass of fruit juice now, and I said yes, although time was getting on. She poured the fruit juice from a crystal carafe, brought it to me and sat down opposite me, crossing her legs. I drank and put the glass down. When I looked back at her, I saw that she was still smiling. The little lines on her face showed a little more distinctly.
    After a moment she said, “You contradicted him, didn’t you?”
    I very nearly asked, “You mean your husband?” But I immediately knew that evasions would not appeal to this woman; she wasn’t going to let me wriggle out of it.
    I said, “I told him that in my opinion we hadn’t won the case yet.”
    â€œAh, yes.” She nodded. “That doesn’t surprise me. I knew at once that his – his temperament had run away with him. To put it kindly.” She looked out at the garden. “Or one could say he lost control of himself yet again. He always thinks he can simply steamroller anyone who doesn’t do as he wants.”
    She turned back to me, smiling. “I’m glad you told him what you thought! Carry on like that! People who give in to him have lost the game. He thinks he can do as he likes with them, and generally he’s right.”
    I was feeling uncomfortable. I liked this woman, yes, but was she trying to recruit me as an ally against her despotic husband? I didn’t care for him, but he was my client, after
all. By taking the file folder that had landed in front of me I had more or less explicitly agreed to take on his case.
    I stood up. “I’m sorry, but…”
    â€œOf course. I’m sure you have other things to do than worry about… about this spot of bother my husband had at the works.” She rose, still smiling. “Just a moment, I’ll tell Karl you’re ready to leave.”
    Karl then, not Georg. But Karl was just as outmoded. Who was called Karl these days?
    When she returned from somewhere at the back of the house, maybe the kitchen, she took my arm and led me to the front door. “Please don’t forget to give Herr Hochkeppel my regards.”
    â€œOf course I won’t.”
    At the door she let go of my arm, turned to face me and smiled. “And when shall we see each other again?”
    The little lines showed. Maybe I was just imagining it, but they didn’t make her look old – they made her look alert and at the same time enigmatic, a woman of experience seeing through her interlocutor and secretly laughing at him a little.
    I said, “I don’t know… probably when the other party’s lawyer has been in touch.”
    â€œOf course.” She laughed. “You won’t be coming here again of your own free will in a hurry.”
    â€œOh, please, I…”
    She offered me her hand. “Goodbye for now, Dr Zabel.”
    I took her hand. I wanted to finish what I’d started to say, but now I couldn’t think how to do it. I said, “Goodbye, Frau Klofft.”
    Karl was already standing by the car, cap in his left hand, and he opened the door to the back seat. I went over to him, heard the gravel crunch underfoot, but I hardly noticed because I was absorbed in wondering whether that goodbye
had a meaning I didn’t understand. Had she expected me to contradict her remark about not coming to her house again more firmly? But why should she set store by such a feeble compliment?
    I was about to get into the back of the car when I stopped. I looked at Karl, who returned my glance, a little surprised. “Do you mind if I join you in the front?”
    He hesitated briefly and then said, “No, of course