Switzerland, June 2004.
The throaty roar of the Maserati shattered the idyllic calm of the pretty alpine valley. Two climbers, labouring under heavy rucksacks barely had time to step onto the wild flower strewn kerb before the gunmetal car barrelled past them on the narrow lane. They caught a brief glimpse of blonde hair whipped back by the wind from a tanned face, and large black sunglasses, and then the car was past them, thundering over the wooden bridge which crossed the milky glacial melt waters in the stream, then spraying gravel from the broad rear wheels as it cornered before cresting a rise and disappearing from view up the valley towards the famously secluded privacy of Schloss Marlberg.
Heidi von Klausruhen was not nearly as good a driver as she thought she was. The Maserati was the latest in a long line of sports cars, which were thrashed, mishandled, scraped and occasionally crashed. Her father's indulgence in her had never had many limits, but since her mother had died it had become apparently boundless. Heidi was the image of her aristocratic mother, and the brightest light of pleasure in the eyes of her elderly and even more aristocratic father. He doted on her and ignored the murmurs of disapproval her extravagant ways provoked in the village and amongst his friends and business acquaintances. He did not care if she frittered away millions- only a tiny fraction of the Klausruhen fortune after all. All he asked was that she sat at his side, on the same ancient carved oak seat where her mother had sat, every Sunday in church, before joining him for a traditional lunch of poached trout, roast game, and aged Gruyere. Then he could bask in the radiance of her beauty, laugh with her as she teased him gently and caressed his ego, whilst helping him forget the ever-keen loss of his beloved Ilse. In quieter moments during the week, when his only child was staying in the summer house by the lake that she had made into her private home, he would occasionally wonder when she was going to marry and produce an heir to the fortune, or perhaps take an interest in the family business herself. But she was still young-only twenty three- and there was still plenty of time. Besides a husband and children would rob him of the time with her, inevitably, and he was not quite ready to face more solitude.
Watching the Klausruhens take their seats in the small wooden church Father Simetti marvelled once again at Heidi's striking resemblance to her mother. Both had thick platinum blonde hair, fine bone structure, the same hint of strength in the clean line of the jaw, and glimmer of mischief in the corners of the mouth. Both had the startling clear blue eyes. And both wore their expensive clothes with elegance and moved with the same easy grace, even supporting the Count as he limped up the aisle. If there was a difference it was that Heidi was a little taller, her flawless skin tanned, and her athletic frame a little more muscular and toned from tennis and swimming. Simetti tired to suppress very unchristian feelings of envy for such an easy lifestyle. And he tried to ignore even more troubling feelings that this exquisite woman stirred in him. Later he would accept the Count's invitation to join them for lunch and in the afternoon would sit on the terrace and discuss his sermon with the old man, trying to ignore the sight of Heidi padding softly around the edge of the swimming pool in a bikini. He would stay, as usual, until tea time, politely sitting while his host snoozed, and fail to resist the urge to feast his eyes as she stretched out on a sun bed nearby, her eyes closed, sparkling drops of water beaded on the tanned curves of her body, nipples clearly visible through the sheer fabric of the swim suit.
Heidi picked up the small silver bell and gave it another vigorous shake.
"Eva. Finally," She said with an exasperated sigh when the maid hurried onto the terrace.
"Bring me another bottle of water and a fresh glass. Oh, and you had better check that my father does not need anything, or Father Simetti. For all I know they might have been ringing the bell for you for an hour too."
"Sorry, ma'am," the maid said hurrying off. It would do no good to point out that she had been left alone this Sunday and was expected to do the work of two because the other housemaid's mother had been taken ill. Heidi von Klausruhen was never interested in excuses. A simple apology was best, and then she would just have to wait and find out if that sufficed when she visited Heidi's bedroom that evening as usual. Eva shuddered slightly at the thought, and a small bead of perspiration ran down her spine. She knew, unlike the Count, that Heidi had no intention of marrying and sharing the immense Klausruhen fortune she would inherit in the not too distant future. In fact, Heidi had not had a boyfriend in the last six years.
After tea Father Simetti said goodbye and the Count retired to his study complaining of a headache. Heidi brought him painkillers and pulled the blinds in the oak panelled room, and made sure he was comfortable in his favourite ancient leather armchair.
"If you think you're going to be OK I'm going to see Lotte in the village, Daddy," she said.
"Of course, dear. Will you stay here tonight or must you get back to Geneva?"
"I will stay, especially when you're not feeling well. You spent too long in the sun today I think." She made sure there was water in the jug, and placed the telephone within easy reach for him and kissed him softly on the forehead.
"I'll have Eva bring you some supper in here. Call me if you need anything at all - my mobile number is programmed into the phone, but try and get some sleep."
The old man was already dozing off as she closed the door softly.
Lotte Neumann lived in one of the houses that were clustered around the tiny market square in the village of Marlberg. She was the same age as Heidi- they had been classmates at the little village school until Heidi had been sent away to an English boarding school. They had stayed in touch and in the holidays played tennis together, swam, walked the valley, and went skiing in the winter. Lotte was a pretty girl with light brown hair, hazel eyes, and a shy smile, which lit up her face. Like the majority of inhabitants of Marlberg the family depended on the von Klausruhens: Lotte's father ran the village dairy and rented some pasture from the Count. Her mother had worked in the kitchens in the castle, but now helped run the dairy. Lotte had returned from a brief spell working as a secretary in a Zurich bank to look after her parents.
She answered the door before Heidi could knock.
"Shall we go down to the barn? My parents are both at home...."
"Fine by me," Heidi replied looking her friend up and down with that cool detached air which always made Lotte feel immediately intimidated.
"I haven't got long," Lotte apologised. "I have to get supper ready for them."
"Then we had better get a move on," Heidi said, turning down the cobbled passageway which led down the side of the house away from the square.
They walked quickly, in silence, crossing two small fields and skirting the edge of a little copse before they reached an old stone barn with a turf roof.
Lotte opened the heavy door and they both entered the gloomy interior. They climbed a small ladder up into the hayloft and Heidi went to open the small access door allowing evening sunlight to stream in.
She turned to face Lotte, who met her eyes nervously, a slight tremor in her voice:
