For Viktoria, the biggest problem was that she had no idea who could have sent the message. More precisely, several people could have been behind those harsh words. Of course, she couldn’t tell Günter—he would have immediately made a huge fuss throughout the complex, hunting for the culprit. One thing was certain: it had to be someone from the complex. No one else had set foot in the houses at Calle la Rosa 22 that day. According to their agreement, no one had received visitors on December 31st.
The first person who came to mind was María José, and that night when, in a fit of rage, she had poured a bucket of water over Perla, who had been peeing on their terrace. Lately, things had calmed down between the neighbors, and the elderly woman had pretended not to know it had been Viktoria, not Günter, who had done it. Still, the mother of the family had never trusted the sincerity of María José’s smile. She always suspected the old lady was the vengeful type.
What María José could possibly want from her after all this time, however, was unclear. The dog was still alive, and since then, it had stopped peeing on other people’s property. That was thanks to Viktoria— after the incident, Perla had completely dropped the annoying habit. Even Ludmilla had loudly remarked once— making sure the German family could hear— that she was thrilled about the dog’s remarkable improvement.
The other likely suspect Viktoria considered was Pauline. The German woman was convinced that jealousy practically oozed from her. Not to mention the frustration caused by her constantly traveling husband. Maybe Viktoria had simply been an easy target for the tense French mom. The young Pauline almost always had dark circles under her eyes from exhaustion, and her fists would clench over the smallest thing. Perhaps she just needed someone to unload all her pent-up frustration on. Most likely, she was harmless— just lashing out blindly to cause the German blonde a few sleepless nights.
Naturally, Ted couldn’t be left off the list either. The nosy, lurking guy with the Coke bottle glasses who thrived on conflict and tension. But surely, he didn’t have any real information that could put Viktoria in an awkward position. Unless he had somehow found out that particular thing. But that was impossible. Ted wasn’t that good. You couldn’t spy on that from an upstairs window or while crouching behind a partition wall. Viktoria briefly played with the idea of what it would be like if it got out, if everyone discovered her secret. The thought gave her chills. Then she pictured Ted again, and the unease vanished. She trusted her instincts. It was impossible that Ted had written the note. And even if she was wrong and the man with the glasses was the author, it would have to be about something entirely different. Maybe a discarded mandarin peel or a cigarette butt he’d stolen from Heidi and smoked behind the shed.
Was it worth it? Was all this really necessary? he wondered, sitting on the terrace, sipping Chilean wine. Though, honestly, the answer had already been dancing in his mind before he even finished the question. Of course it was worth it! What could be more thrilling than seeing terror in someone else’s eyes? Even if it only lasts a second. That strange flicker, triggered by sheer, icy fear! The way the color of the eyes changes, the way the entire face transforms. The almost audible pounding heartbeat, the trembling lips, the pale, drained skin. Young, old, man, woman— fear looks equally delicious on them all. If only he had seen Heidi trembling back then by the pool, terrified of that figure in the diving suit!
Oh well, at least now he had made up for it with the teenager’s mother. Sure, the moment had been slightly spoiled by how quickly Viktoria’s fear had turned into rage. He much preferred the scent and sight of fear over anger. Fear could even be frightening in its own right. Especially the way Viktoria had bared her teeth while locking the note inside the safe. Still – at least he got to see her. Naked. With wet skin.