blackbird by Gina Frisken

Neighbours said the Rabes appeared to have no problems. “He was goud mun,” they repeated. Some knew of the sacking, others knew of the pregnancy, but the whispers stopped when the detectives arrived with questions.

 

Manuel Corpas thought Klaus Rabe’s hard work and quiet manners were virtues that protected his twin boys. He also recalled the unframed photograph Heike showed him of her wedding day. She, was in a velvet wedding suit, he was in a pale suit. A grin was barely visible on Klaus’ angular face. They stood next to each other, their hands not touching, and Heike’s modest wedding band loose on her slender ring finger.

 

Manuel’s granddaughter, Rita, was saddened that the black-and-white photo did not show how brilliantly blue Heike’s eyes were. “Que tragédia!”