The Zurich Conspiracy (29 page)

“I’ve read that only a minority of psychopaths are violent. The great majority are…normal. At least on the outside. They function well, even seem sociable, but they really aren’t.” Paul’s voice got livelier, like a TV moderator trying to get the audience on his side. “Psychopaths can work at swimming pools, libraries…er…hospitals, in high office, or be streetcar conductors or bus drivers, what do I know—anywhere. They can even be business consultants; I wouldn’t want to make any exceptions. It can be your own mother, an uncle or…your own brother. Believe me, they’re just like us. Or seem to be.”

Josefa gazed steadily at his face. She wanted to record every movement, every twitch. Paul looked away into the distance. He seemed to be in another sphere altogether.

“They don’t have a conscience; they’re human predators,” he said, balling his hands into fists. When he noticed it, he relaxed his hands and looked quickly at Josefa, who hadn’t missed a trick.

“Something the psychiatrist said made a deep impression on me. ‘Psychopaths love chaos, and that is the reason they feel comfortable in the rapidly changing world of modern businesses.’ Another psychiatrist divides them into three categories—”

Paul stopped short, seeing Isabelle, his assistant, at the door. “Paul, some people want to say goodbye to you,” she announced.

He waved her off. “Tell them I had an unavoidable, urgent long-distance call, we’re talking about a job worth millions,” he said without a second’s delay. “And get their names, I’ll call them myself later.”

Isabelle left without batting an eyelash.

Paul glanced at Josefa to see if she’d gotten the message:
You’re more important to me than anybody else.

She didn’t budge.

“This psychiatrist divides them into three categories: con men—like somebody who pretends he’s going to marry you but only wants your money. Then there are the puppeteers, who manipulate people to get at somebody else. They’re more powerful than the con men because they stay hidden. Then there are the intriguers, the troublemakers, the trap-setters.” He rubbed the fingertips of his right hand over the tabletop nervously. His tension was palpable.

“Psychopaths have three motivations: They’re looking for a thrill. They’ve got a pathological need to win. And they enjoy exercising their power over others, even if it means hurting people. Many white-collar crooks are psychopaths—executives who dupe investors, brokers who manipulate stock prices, driven by financial greed.”

Josefa listened with rapt attention in spite of being in a daze. She felt that her feet had turned cold, but her cheeks were hot, her hands moist.

All this analysis must have been going round and round in Paul’s head. He must have found a significant explanation in those words.

After a brief pause, he turned and looked straight at her. “I think Schulmann’s a psychopath, Josefa. A mixture of puppeteer, intriguer, and pain in the ass. And I wanted to do everything to keep you out of his reach, but I didn’t know how to.” He spread his hands wide like a preacher. “You loved your job at Loyn above everything else. And you’re stubborn, Josefa, I know that. If I’d told you about Schulmann, you’d probably have thought me a bellyacher filled with resentment.” He looked into her eyes for some response, for some hint of understanding. “You’d have tried to prove to me that he couldn’t bully you. And you’d probably have thought I’d describe Schulmann as the embodiment of evil just because I wanted you to work for me.”

He swept his right hand over the table. His voice was firmer now; he seemed to be nearing the climax of his confession. “But most importantly, I was in no position to tell you how he humiliated me at Harckmüller.”

“Why not?” Josefa blurted out. “Did you prefer to humiliate
me
with those e-mails?”

“I didn’t want to
humiliate
you. I wanted to raise your level of awareness.”

“Raise my awareness? Am I hearing you right? You scared the hell out of me!” Josefa said bitterly.

“OK, granted I wanted to frighten you. Fear is sometimes the most effective defense against danger. It’s made you alert and cautious, activated your distrust. That was the only way to protect you against Schulmann’s viciousness.”

He pushed his chair back violently and stood up, gripping the back of the chair until his knuckles bulged. “I’m going to tell you about the experiences
I’ve
had with him, and you’ll understand me better.” He paused, clearing his throat. “Five years I worked for Harckmüller, and Gerhard Harckmüller wanted to make me partner because he was so pleased with me…Then Schulmann came into the company, and things soon changed. It all began when some of my clients’ data became public knowledge. The clients complained, naturally, and thought I was the source of the leak. But I suspected that
they
were the source. There didn’t seem to be any other conclusion. Nobody had access to the data except me and them. But a relationship based on trust was now well nigh impossible.”

There was a pause. Paul’s lips moved without making a sound, as if he could not—would not—say out loud what followed. Josefa watched him, fascinated; she’d never seen her old friend like this.

“Then somebody downloaded some child porn onto my computer. And this somebody made sure a colleague would discover it and pass it on to the boss. At first I was able to convince Harckmüller that somebody—maybe a hacker—had got into my system illegally. Somebody had cracked my password, so from then on I kept changing it. And then two women I worked with received suggestive e-mails—from my address. The boss demanded we talk and I demanded an internal investigation. In the meantime I was on the point of going to the police and filing charges against persons unknown, but Harckmüller was afraid of a big scandal.”

Paul was prowling like a tiger now back and forth in front of the bookshelves. His fingers brushed against the backs of the books as if he could gain some consolation from the contact. “After that, everything went wrong. Schulmann would seize every opportunity to shoot subtle little darts at me. He’d never attack me openly but would put me in a bad light whenever he could. My nerves were shot, and I was losing sleep; I’d make little errors, mistakes through lack of concentration. Schulmann would get off ironic remarks time and again, he enjoyed it enormously. He soon had other colleagues on his side, people whose work I’d criticized or who were jealous of my position in the company.”

He came to a stop and turned to face Josefa, as if he had momentarily forgotten she was at the table.

“Harckmüller privately held me responsible for the lousy atmosphere in the company. I sensed it though he never said it. Our relationship cooled noticeably, but Schulmann cast his charm around on all sides. He wasn’t particularly good at his job as far as substance or the heavy lifting was concerned. But he had great powers of seduction. He made people around him feel that he thought they were especially efficient and talented and seriously underestimated. I used to watch him at it quite a bit. He’d wrap them around his little finger. I heard some time later that psychopaths possess enormous powers of persuasion. Even psychiatrists get fooled by them time and again.”

Josefa’s mouth was dry, so she took a sip of wine. “How did you find out it was Schulmann? That business about the computer, I mean.”

“At first I was only guessing. I tried to set a trap for him. A trusted colleague let me use his computer for a while. But I couldn’t tell anybody I suspected Schulmann. I could lock my office, but other persons still had access to the area, security, cleaning staff. I couldn’t put in a video camera or hire a detective to investigate. At some point I gave up.” Paul sat down; the corners of his mouth were twitching.

“Harckmüller was visibly relieved when I offered my resignation. Schulmann had the nerve to come into my office while I was clearing it out. He wanted to say goodbye. I told him I could do without that. Then he said—and I remember his exact words—‘Even giants sometimes go before a fall. Even the
Titanic
wasn’t invulnerable.’ He said it with a smile. That’s the exact moment I was absolutely certain he was the one, because one of my passwords was ‘Titanic.’ Christ, how I hated that guy!” Paul got up quickly. “I need some water if you don’t mind.”

Josefa shook her head. She slipped her shoes on. The party downstairs was still in high gear, and Paul would antagonize his guests if he didn’t go downstairs soon. Served him right. Though that was much too lenient a punishment for the trouble he’d caused her. She was very hungry and started on the hors d’oeuvres on her plate. Paul came back promptly, as if fearing she might disappear in his absence. He’d barely taken a sip before he launched back into his story.

“Schulmann would have driven you crazy, believe me. Those e-mails were meant to make you cautious. You were supposed to watch the people around you very carefully. I hoped if you were on your guard you wouldn’t fall prey to Schulmann’s charm.”

“Charm? You’ve got to be kidding!” Josefa protested.

Paul ran his fingers through his hair. “Yes, he didn’t particularly turn on the charm for you. I picked up on that right away. But my campaign was already underway, and besides, I had already decided to get you to leave Loyn…And as you saw, he drove somebody else nuts.”

“Who?”

“The murderer. I’m convinced that somebody went crazy because Schulmann went too far. Somebody who was less of a coward than me,” he said ruefully.

“Paul!” Josefa was more horrified at his tone than his words. “Do you know your warnings were totally superfluous? I’d already been warned.” Paul looked up at her in surprise.

She told him about Schulmann’s advances in San Francisco culminating in his sexual assault in her hotel suite.

Paul slapped his forehead. “If only I’d known! Why didn’t you tell me? I feel so stupid, Josefa, I’m so very sorry…I’m honestly sorry.” He shook his head. “But at the same time I’m very glad that you got away. That he wasn’t able to do something really bad to you.”

Josefa offered no response. She was too stunned, too confused. She didn’t know what to think of the whole business. It was time to go home. She got up, and Paul followed her out. She was glad he didn’t ask her for any explanation, didn’t want to know how she felt about him now, whether she forgave him, because she didn’t know herself.

When they got to the hallway she remembered what she wanted to ask Paul before he fetched some water.

“Why didn’t Harckmüller make Schulmann a partner?”

“I wish I could say because he wasn’t good enough,” Paul remarked. “But things didn’t get to that stage. Schulmann made an incredibly stupid gaffe. At a company party he told a young lady that she looked like a hooker in that dress and bawled her out for daring to appear at a company event in such a getup. Schulmann thought she was a volunteer and his tirade would impress everybody. The young woman turned out to be Harckmüller’s daughter.”

Well, well
, Josefa thought as she went downstairs.
Sometimes all it takes is a dumb little mistake to seal your fate
.

Nobody could see her cards. Nobody knew her intentions, her true face.

She walked through everything in her mind once again. An ingenious plan. A brilliant brain. A dazzling façade.

Suddenly it was all so simple. Even simpler than she’d thought.

She used a towel to take the kettle off the stove, mixed the water with some snow in a basin, and added liquid soap. Then she carefully dipped her hands. The water changed color.

I will wash my hands in innocence, she thought. The idea pleased her enormously. She repeated it over and over as she cleaned traces from her hands. Traces no one should ever see.

How stupid people are. How set in their ways. And how susceptible to—but she’d rather not think about that now.

Enemies are like a huge buffet. A magnificent, delicious buffet. You can help yourself to them. While politely thanking them with a charming smile and sending a silent promise with your flashing eyes.

And then turn the knife.

Later, when the time was ripe.

Then they’ll see how stupid they were. They’ll tear their hair. Scratch out their eyes.

If they still have time.

She stretched out comfortably on the old sofa in front of the fireplace. Her work was accomplished. Victory would soon be hers.