Interrogations and Confessions

Ron and Bodnar sat with Rosa Morgentau in the meeting room, listening to her report. As ordered by President Wallner, Rosa had removed her velvet gloves and put on black leather gloves to beat old Mrs. Halter. She had torn Mrs. Halter's blouse off and began systematically beating the astonished, half-naked woman with the leather gloves. Yes, she struck her in the face for minutes on end, taking great care not to leave any bruises. She screamed at the handlers, saying she would beat her most intimate secrets out of her. Every single one! After fifteen minutes, the old woman's resistance crumbled. She had realized that she had to reveal a few secrets to receive fewer blows. She sobbed that she was ready to answer everything. "But please, no more hitting!"

As for Rosa, one has to consider her background. She had initially studied psychology, and only later, concurrently with the police academy, had she studied criminal psychology in particular. She was a very good student, one has to give her that. But she had developed a predilection for quickies, for casual, fast sex, which had become very pronounced. She had never kept count, but there were certainly hundreds whose paths she had crossed.

And then there was the issue of incest, which preoccupied her greatly. Somewhere, sometime during her studies, she had overheard something that, objectively speaking, doesn't stand up to any scientific scrutiny. Something like this: most criminals had an incest problem. Girls who had been abused by their own fathers were highly likely to become criminals later in life. Male offenders had often been abused by their mothers in their youth, or, as a rule, they abused their own mothers. Or they were now those fathers themselves, incestuously abusing their daughters. And Rosa was determined to investigate these matters with the utmost precision. What supported her peculiar theory was that the roughly 20 women and 70 men she had so far subjected to excruciatingly embarrassing interrogations had all, without exception, had some kind of incest problem in their youth. All of them. Without exception.

As a test, Rosa asked Mrs. Halter if she had been in an incestuous relationship with Frank. She denied it, cursing, sobbing, and sniffling. Rosa had taken off her gloves and struck her quite brutally with the folded gloves. The old woman screamed and whimpered. "No, never, believe me! When he lay down next to me to sleep — we always slept naked next to each other — he would always sin by kneeling between my thighs and ejaculate over my most intimate place ever since he reached puberty." Rosa struck again, "What else?!" The old woman whimpered and hesitated for a long time before revealing anything further. "But I only let my son grope me down there now and then, because of his childish curiosity." Rosa's leather gloves flapped across her cheeks, because Rosa had to beat every word out of her. Then Rosa paused. Mrs. Halter looked up at Rosa from a low angle. "But none of this is incest, Commissioner," she squeezed out through pursed lips.

Rosa held up her gloves threateningly. She should finally tell everything voluntarily, or there would be more beatings. The old woman stopped sobbing and looked up at her slyly and contemptuously, as if she could read her thoughts. "I always flinched back then, when he was just a boy, when his big thing touched my most intimate place and he pumped around inside me for fifteen minutes." Rosa looked at her sharply. "And you only touched his thing by accident, I suppose?" Mrs. Halter didn't immediately grasp the sarcasm. "Oh no, I hardly touched his thing," she insisted defiantly. "He had such a long one, just like his father, which made it so difficult for me," Mrs. Halter whispered softly. "But he had to sin all on his own, always!" And no, she would never have done it to him, she lied. Rosa was annoyed because the old woman was lying to her again. "Tell the truth, you miserable bitch!" Rosa roared, and the gloves lashed across Halter's face once more.

Rosa's gloved hand trembled before the old woman's face. The image of 14-year-old Halter and Artem with his dick hanging low flashed in Rosa's mind. The gloves slapped relentlessly against the old woman's shoulder. "And since he came back from prison, he's slept in my arms every night. Yes, he's slept here in my arms for several nights because he could fall asleep better if I put him in and took care of him with my hand." "So you two had incest?" Rosa fired her next barb. But Mrs. Halter looked at Rosa contemptuously and spat on the floor in front of her. "It never went that far, and it probably never would," she snapped at the detective. And he hadn't been here for days. Rosa had a feeling the woman hadn't revealed everything yet.

The gloves left red welts on her withered, emaciated breasts. Suddenly, the old woman's face recoiled; she couldn't bear the blows any longer. "When he was about eight or nine, I showed him how to do it, the way boys do it, to release their semen. He was so ecstatic because I did it to him until his penis went completely soft. Boys have to empty themselves completely, I explained to him, because if the semen stays inside too long, it will rot and stink."

"Back then, I spoke quite openly and confidentially with many mothers at school, and it was surprising how many allowed actual incest. Only a few simply spread their legs; most knelt on their beds and presented their buttocks to the boy. He only had to spread them until he could see the bush and the cunt, and then he could freely take her from behind. But what really shocked me was this: if the son brought a friend home for a sleepover, then the friend was also allowed to spread her buttocks wide and take her from behind. The boys took turns until they were exhausted. I found that truly repulsive, somehow whorish and utterly disgusting. The mothers who told me about it reacted snidely or angrily to my reaction; what difference did it make whether there was one or two? Whether they mounted her once or five times, that didn't make any difference anymore, did it? No, these Mothers squatted in the meadow like cows, ruminating, and they couldn't care less what was going on back there between their buttocks... No, I absolutely didn't want to do that, because I knew that was real incest. It was completely out of the question, that much was clear to me from the start.

Others, on the other hand, did it themselves with their hand, but full of disgust and fear, using two fingers, because they had done it far too rarely before. They carefully and fearfully slid the foreskin back and forth between their thumb and forefinger and stared, mesmerized, at the opening in the glans. Nevertheless, they flinched when the fluid spurted out and splashed across their faces. They got used to it over time and closed their eyelids because it always splashed in their faces. But others did it quite forcefully and energetically with their fist, just as they had to do to their husbands. "No, that's not what I wanted either. Frank should damn well do it himself."

"Others, on the other hand, made the boy kneel between their thighs and he had to do it himself with his own hand. But almost every boy ended up sinking forward and then ejaculating all over his mother's most intimate area. I thought to myself, I'll do something similar."

"So I made Frank kneel between my thighs, did it to him with my hand, and let him thoughtlessly ejaculate all over my inner thighs, and that was perhaps a mistake. I did it to him several times in a row until he couldn't ejaculate anymore, and that was it. He accepted the change immediately, and then there was no stopping him." Rosa interjected. "Why was that a mistake?" The old woman searched for a suitable branch in her web of lies. "Looking back, I would have preferred he'd ejaculated on the sheets or into a handkerchief. But instead, he knelt between my thighs, sinning for minutes on end with a disgusting grin, and then finally fell forward. He always ejaculated over, or, if he'd penetrated me while falling forward, inside, my most intimate region, with a mean, possessive expression. That's what I meant by mistake, Commissioner. I hadn't planned it that way, but it couldn't be changed now."

There it was again, that lurking, deceitful look that drove Rosa to a white-hot rage. "But that has nothing to do with incest!" the old woman exclaimed in despair. She looked down and then stammered through tears, "Because he had tendonitis when he was 11, he kept forcing me to do it to him, but only that one, single time, for four or five weeks, two or three times a day, because otherwise he wouldn't leave me alone." she whimpered, guiltily and through her tears. "But you can't call that incest, Commissioner!"

Rosa was desperate to know the details, because the perpetrator's sex life could be a key. Rosa stopped hitting and snarled at the Halter: "How did it really start? Tell me again, and don't lie to me!" The woman cowered, even though Rosa stopped striking. "I wasn't lying! You see, he always pressed his dick against me while he masturbated and ejaculated on my most intimate area. It really didn't bother me; it wasn't new to me. I've had to do it to my husband many times. It's normal, isn't it? Some mothers masturbate their sons with their fingers or fist because they don't want to sin against God and nature. But many don't care at all and indifferently let their sons commit incest, real incest, that's how I understood it."

Rosa raised her hand, with the folded gloves, threateningly. "Because he kept trying, I pulled him out in time and gave him a good talking-to. I would never allow incest! I had to wrestle with him every day and hold his dick firmly so he couldn't put it in again, the bastard!" The woman looked at Rosa contemptuously; her lie seemed to be working perfectly. Rosa mentally pieced together the puzzle.

The old woman asked slyly, "Do you know what it's like to lie naked next to a naked adolescent your whole life?" Rosa murmured, no, but she could imagine him trying again and again. The woman looked at her with deep contempt. "Oh, you would never truly understand, good woman! Of course I had to hold it firmly so he couldn't put it in again, the bastard!" Rosa nodded; she had heard enough, even if much remained unsaid. Mrs. Halter wouldn't reveal any more at the moment.

Rosa sat down and lit a cigarette. Mrs. Halter suspected she wouldn't be beaten again and relaxed a little. She tried to cover her withered breasts with her tattered blouse. Rosa gave the old woman a cigarette, took a drag, and moved carefully. "And — you're from Ukraine?" Mrs. Halter shook her head and stopped crying. "No, I'm Circassian and I come from Trabzon on the Black Sea. Artem rescued me from the most abject poverty imaginable. I was 14 and was made up to go into prostitution. Then Artem appeared and bought me. My beautiful red hair and light blue eyes had captivated him; I knew that from the start. Wait, I have a photo from that time."

Mrs. Halter rummaged among the few books on the shelf. She held out a folded picture to Rosa. "That was me, at 14," she said. Rosa took the picture from her hand and unfolded it despite Mrs. Halter's protests. It was the same as in Artem's file. A naked couple, the little red-haired girl and a giant of a man, around 40, with a huge cock dangling down. Rosa had read in Artem's file that he was 1.95 meters tall and weighed around 125 kilos. Someone had scribbled next to it: "25 kebab and doner, 30 raki." An attempt to portray him as a hard liquor drinker?

Rosa looked up. "So that's what you were like back then. But your name is Halter, isn't that a German name?" Mrs. Halter shook her head in the negative. "No, actually Haltr, a Circassian name. The Haltr is a wooden contraption, with a hole in it and covered on top with goatskin. The goatherds chase the male goat onto the Haltr and collect the semen behind the hole in a cup. The semen is stirred into the goat's milk, which is supposed to strengthen virility. My name was Roxane Haltr, so Roxane, the goat whore." Mrs. Halter turned the photograph tenderly in her fingers. "At first, Artem let me believe I would one day become his wife. He took me everywhere, he bought girls and sold them to brothels in the West. He became very rich very quickly. It was a good life."

"He started hiding the money of wealthy oligarchs in the West, which made him even richer than the girls. I had Frank after an uncomplicated birth, and Artem was over the moon with joy and pride. He had the doctor anesthetize me again and operate on me, and I always suspected he had me sterilized, but he never admitted it."

"Frank was a sweet, good child and the star of my life. Until puberty, all I did was pull back his foreskin and let my tongue dance on his glans. Then I'd poke with my fingernail in the little opening of his glans, and the juice would just shoot and gush out. My lips would encircle his glans, and I'd drink and suck out the semen. The little guy loved that, and I must have repeated it for hours. He hit puberty at 8 or 9 and loved putting it in and pumping with it. It seemed so innocent and so cute. Then I patiently showed him how to release the juice with his fist."

He must have been 10 when there was that brief episode with Lilly, a girl the same age from the neighborhood. Lilly wasn't shy at all, but very determined. The first time, she shook my hand and did something like a curtsy. "I'm with Frankie." I came along so we could practice stubble picking. "Because when we grow up, we're going to get married and have lots of babies, that's why we have to practice stubble so much now, Mrs. Halter." I was speechless at how cunningly my Frankie had ensnared this girl. I had just gotten over my unfortunate phase of squeezing underage girls between my thighs. Nevertheless, I helped Frankie force it into her little hole, and then they started ramming like rabbits. Lilly clamped the tip of her tongue between her lips, panting and sweating, chasing Frankie from shot to shot, from orgasm to orgasm. My mouth fell open as Frankie stubbled and filled Lilly up like a pro, shot after shot, every afternoon. Lilly's mother found out months later and put a firm end to the spectacle.

I never wanted him to go astray and have to go to prostitutes. Nobody took any notice that we were naked as we slept in the same bed, and nobody ever said a word to me about it. I was the mistress of a filthy rich gangster and untouchable. Artem would often stay in the West for months at a time and in 1992 decided to bring us both to Vienna. We've been here ever since, and Frank worked for Artem until his arrest. That's how it was, that was our life." Mrs. Halter smiled, lost in the past, even though her welts must have been quite painful.

Rosa put her gloves in her handbag to signal that the beating was over. She picked up her cigarettes and offered Mrs. Halter one as well. "You have to understand, I don't have any children and I want to understand what it was like between you and Frank. I have to assume incest at this point, that's just how it is." Mrs. Halter smoked thoughtfully and then said in a firm voice, "You're mistaken, Commissioner, there was never any incest between us." Rosa took a drag on her cigarette. Velvet gloves and small steps, that's how she wanted to coax everything out of her. "So, how did it all begin?" she asked, smiling.

Mrs. Halter leaned back. "Oh, you know, when Frank was 8 or 9, his urges awoke intensely. The poor little thing would tug at his dick so hard it scared me to death. So I showed him how boys are supposed to masturbate with their fists. That calmed him down more and more, and that's how he learned. I didn't want him buying porn magazines as a guide. It seemed much more natural to me that he got aroused by my body. If he needed it during the day, he'd get himself ready, spread my legs wide, and then he'd get to work, staring intently at my crotch, aiming hard, and pressing his penis firmly against my most intimate spot to ejaculate. At night, though, it was completely different. He'd lie behind me, press his cock against my buttocks, and get to work with his hand. To ejaculate, he'd thrust powerfully forward between my buttocks to release his semen into me from behind." That's actually how I preferred it. - Yes, that's how it started."

Rosa mentally pieced together the jumbled puzzle pieces and nodded. "Yes, I can imagine it quite well like that." She offered another cigarette. "Of course, that's not incest, that's clear. But what about the tendonitis?" Rosa asked, because that was where she could jump in. Mrs. Halter seemed to wake up from a dream. "Yes, that was when he was 11. Up until then, he always did it himself, which was perfectly fine. But with the tendonitis, he couldn't do it. He cursed blasphemously and forced me to do it for him, two or even three times a day."

"It was very embarrassing for me at first. I didn't enjoy it at all on the first day, you can believe me. But he had a large and very beautiful, even cock; you simply had to love it. So I did it for him quite willingly, because it was such a beautiful, long thing. And because I could give him great relief, that was important to me, of course. He stared between my legs like a predator while I obediently did it for him. Naturally, he insisted that I let him ejaculate over my most intimate area, and he screamed at me terribly if I didn't obey immediately. He barked harshly at me to damn well insert it! I cowered in fear and inserted it a little way, then rubbed it until he came. I had to repeat it so many times until he'd had enough. I felt somewhat humiliated, and his fixed gaze between my legs sometimes made me really uncomfortable. But by the second day, it seemed completely natural to me, and so I did well to him with a wicked expression. From now on, I knew how to be a good girl. Unasked, I guided his cock a little way into my cunt, and then I rubbed it with my hand until he ejaculated. And I let him ejaculate as many times as he needed until he'd had enough. Because even that wasn't incest, since I was only doing it with my hand. When it had healed after five or six weeks, I was somehow glad that he could do it himself again." Gradually, she began to enjoy embellishing her lies.

Rosa placed her hand reassuringly on Mrs. Halter's arm. "Don't worry, good woman, because even that doesn't constitute incest. - But the insertion?" She glanced casually at the old woman; she didn't want to scare the wild game. Mrs. Halter took a drag on her cigarette and watched the smoke drift away. "That was much later, and it became an epidemic. I think now he put it in every single night. Even though I'm a deep, sound sleeper, I'd sometimes wake up in the night, and of course he'd be all the way inside, fiddling around like crazy. But before he could ejaculate, I'd immediately pull it out and let him empty it in my hand. Then I'd always give him a piece of my mind, telling him it was incest and I wouldn't tolerate incest in my house! But of course, that didn't last a day; the next night it was the same thing. He was just as stubborn as his father."

Rosa carefully placed one foot in front of the other; she couldn't rush ahead. "And you always pulled it out, just in time, so to speak? Before he could really ejaculate?" Mrs. Halter clutched her cigarette, considering how much she could admit and how to weave her lies. "Yes, of course! I couldn't allow the incest!" Rosa pressed her cautiously, taking just a small, insignificant step. "Always, without exception?" The word "exception" was, of course, bait. "Well," the old woman drew out, almost inaudibly, "as long as I was the stronger one."

Horrified by this unintentional admission, she continued, "And if I'd had one too many drinks in the evening, I'd wonder the next morning if he'd gone all the way. Yes, I often struggled with doubts and headaches." Rosa nodded and confirmed, "If I'd drunk too much, I often didn't know the next morning what I'd gotten up to during the night. That happens to all of us sometimes." Mrs. Halter was visibly relieved, but she held back her next remark just in time. She wasn't sure if the policewoman had missed her slip of the tongue. No, Rosa wasn't a friend, but a policewoman conducting an interrogation; Mrs. Halter were under no illusions about that.

"And when he was in Graz, I always brought him cash so he could afford the prostitutes." Mrs. Halter had made a strange turn of phrase. "That was allowed in prison, I didn't know that before." Mrs. Halter stared at the tabletop. "He was always such a sweet, sensitive child, and now he's in prison, a murderer. That's probably the worst thing a mother has to endure." They both fell silent, lost in thought.

Rosa picked up the thread again. "And he came to see you after six years, eight weeks ago," she noted. Mrs. Halter confirmed, "Yes, he called me from Graz, saying he was free and would be living with me again. Of course I said yes, he's my son! It was a wonderful reunion; I hadn't been able to hold him in my arms for six years." Mrs. Halter closed her eyes and thought back to that day. Rosa interrupted her. "And of course he put it back in, didn't he?" The woman was jolted out of her reverie. "Yes, right away."

She fluttered her eyelids in alarm and slipped back into her web of lies. "Yes, as always since puberty, he forced it in every day, cursing and struggling. Of course, as I've done many times before, I helped him insert the enormous thing. With one hand, I spread myself, and with the other, I forced his enormous thing in millimeter by millimeter. Then I closed my eyes as he started. But I pulled it out again just in time, right before he came. I'm still adamant about this. He cursed blasphemously and yelled to put it in again so I could finish him off with my hand! I only had to look him in the eye, because he knew perfectly well that I don't tolerate incest in my house." She wasn't sure if she had said too much. The lies, however, trickled easily from her lips, slimy as whipped cream. She breathed a sigh of relief; this obstacle had been cleared.

Rosa sat up straight. She picked up her notepad and read aloud as she wrote: "Mrs. Halter always rejected incest and prevented it wherever she could." Mrs. Halter nodded and smiled. "It was only Frank who abused his mother nightly since he was twelve." Mrs. Halter nodded again, "Yes, he abused me every night, as you put it." Rosa continued: "Because she feared being hurt, she patiently helped him penetrate her." Mrs. Halter asked: "What does 'penetrate' mean?" Rosa answered patiently: "When his thing goes in." "Aha, okay. I spread myself down there with one hand and carefully inserted the enormous thing with the other. His thing filled me to the point of pain, and whenever he thrust, I was always afraid he'd hurt me," added Mrs. Halter in an almost inaudible whisper. Rosa continued to note: "She took his thing out before he could ejaculate and let him ejaculate in her hand." Mrs. Halter nodded. "Yes, I held his thing in my hand while he ejaculated in spurts," she murmured tonelessly to herself, but with self-satisfaction, because her web of lies had now become a formal act, a document. Rosa scribbled on: "But if she was sleeping too soundly or was drunk, she missed the moment, and Frank cruelly ejaculated inside her." Mrs. Halter nodded in agreement: "Yes, that was really mean of him. I always drank far too much, I have to admit." Rosa continued reading: "In conclusion, it must be stated that Frank Halter abused his mother against her will every night for over 30 years, since he was 12, and is the only one who can be held responsible for the incest. Consequently, Mrs. Halter is to be defined as a victim of incest." Rosa looked up; she had finished. Mrs. Halter asked, "And what will the concrete consequences of this be?" Rosa put on her professional mask. "You are completely innocent, Mrs. Halter; nothing will be charged against you. Innocent, just a victim. However, Frank's file will contain a note stating that he abused you against your will for over 30 years. But that carries little weight, since he is accused and charged with multiple counts of premeditated murder. That carries much more weight." Rosa closed her notebook. Mrs. Halter muttered to herself, inaudible to Rosa: "Yes, he fucked me every night for 30 years, and as you yourself confirm, that was really mean of him. I could never stop it."

Rosa lit another cigarette, and Halter lit another. "Now I've noted everything down for my records. Nevertheless, Ms. Halter, I would be very pleased if you could summarize it again from your perspective. I'm not writing anything else down. So, just speak freely, from the beginning." Halter took a drag on her cigarette and began to whisper.

"I understand that you're interested in whether or not we had incest. But I have to start from the beginning; perhaps then you'll understand everything better. I don't actually know exactly whether Frank saw the thrusting and pumping with Artem or with me. Back then, I was still having several affairs, mostly with men and young boys going through puberty, but also with girls, very young girls going through puberty. At that time, I had an unspeakable attraction to pubescent, virginal youth, boys as well as girls. When Frank was still very small, the little guy just watched. So he must have seen it somewhere, I'm convinced of it. In any case, Frankie started putting it in very early on, long before puberty. We would spend entire afternoons lounging naked on the bed, and I let him put it in and thrust as he pleased; he couldn't even ejaculate back then and really complete the incestuous act. I let him enjoy it because it was simply cute, If you understand what I mean.

"As a boy, he had the most beautiful penis in the world. Straight, as if sculpted in marble by Michelangelo, strong and brimming with power. How I loved gently and carefully pulling back his foreskin and taking his beautiful glans in my mouth. I've never done that with any other man. I would let my tongue dance on the glans until he was at the edge. Then I would tickle the opening in his glans with a sharpened fingernail, so that he came with pleasure and the semen gushed out merrily. Those were some of the best years of our lives. But then, at 8 or 9, I showed him how boys do it to make the juice shoot out. He understood immediately, and there was no stopping him.

Around 12, it became more urgent. I asked many mothers at his school because I needed advice and information. From then on, I allowed him to... He knelt between my thighs and did it himself. He had gotten into the habit of pressing his glans directly against it and ejaculating his semen directly over my most sensitive spot, which was actually quite alright. But his dick remained stiff, so he had to insert it. Since everything was still full of his semen, slippery and slimy, it slid in easily at first. Later, I had to help, spreading myself with my fingers and forcing his cock in myself. I kept my eyes closed in pure pleasure while he thrust into me for ages. It was just as wonderful to feel him pumping inside me as it had been with Artem. Frankie pumped for well over fifteen minutes, and I melted away in utter ecstasy, because Frankie kept thrusting until his cock went soft. Only years later did I notice that Frankie actually ejaculated inside me every time and repeated the whole thing several times until his dick went limp, and then, of course, I was alarmed."

"As soon as when I noticed he was about to ejaculate, I pulled out and brought him to orgasm with my hand. I didn't want to have incestuous sex, and he knew that. But most of the time I was dead drunk, and then I didn't care — let him do it! And at night, when I was already sound asleep, he usually had sex with me again. But I kept sleeping, and then I didn't care.

And when he brought a friend over to stay the night, that friend naturally slept naked with us too. Some of them were already having sex with their mothers or sisters at that age. Two told me they had incest with one of their mothers quite openly and unashamedly, even when younger siblings secretly watched. They also secretly fucked the boy's sister. These two boys were good friends and shared the mother and sister quite unashamedly, those bastards! Only a few boys were still true virgins; I trained them very diligently. "Of course, the boy wanted to put it in too, but that was perfectly fine, because it was perhaps only fornication with minors, but I don't know. So I didn't need to pull his cock out, we weren't blood relatives. And I really enjoyed and savored all this thrusting, pumping, and ejaculation; it wasn't incest, just fucking. Round after round he had to ride me until he was exhausted."

"Strange, that just occurred to me. Once, when I visited him in Graz, he was close to tears and apologized for having fucking me night after night. I reassured him, saying it was just his hormones that had always plagued him so intensely. On that occasion, he also confessed to me that during his school days, he had prostituted me to his classmates for money, like a pimp. The boys had to pay him extra for every round, for every ejaculation. He just wanted to supplement his pocket money. An icy hand gripped my heart, because that felt awful. But I suppressed my outrage and reassured him that I, too, had given myself away for money in the time before I met Artem. I assured him that supplementing his pocket money was fine with me. He then exhaled deeply and gratefully, but tears of relief streamed down his cheeks."

"At least I can't accuse myself of to have had incest. As for Frankie, I agree with you, Inspector. It never occurred to him that he was sinning against God and nature." Mrs. Halter stubbed out her cigarette forcefully. "I don't know what you think of me, Inspector. I have a clear conscience; in my opinion, I never had incest with Frankie." Mrs. Halter's smile was only visible at the corners of her mouth. She had spread the web of her lies before the naive inspector. Truths, half-truths, and pure fabrications. The inspector had listened with shining eyes, greedily absorbing the web of lies. What a stupid sow.

Rosa mentally ticked off another item on her incest statistics list, smiled contentedly, and abruptly changed the subject. "Did he leave anything here, hide something, or keep anything when he came to prison?" Mrs. Halter opened her eyes. "Yes, he had hidden three sports bags in the basement; I was supposed to keep a close eye on them. I only opened the bags once out of curiosity; they were crammed full of banknotes. He took them with him, but I don't know where." Rosa had him show her the size of the bags with his hands. She guessed there were millions. Three, maybe even four million.

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