Mother Kusters Goes to Heaven Page #2

Say, tomorrow?

At 10:
00?

It's your job, I suppose.

All right, then, come.

Thanks.

See you tomorrow.

Chin up, Mrs. Ksters!

Chin up!

It's strange.

People live side by side for years...

and hardly know each other.

And you know what will come of it?

What our dear colleagues will make of it?

One trumped-up story after another.

I can see it now.

"Was the factory killer insane?"

"The man who beat his son,

beat his boss to death!"

- That's how they'll present it.

- Of course they will.

There's a grain of truth in it, after all.

That can't be denied.

If they make a sensation out of it

that's their business.

I'll tackle it quite differently.

I'll stick to the truth.

I want to find the true cause.

If only I knew how to get through

to the old woman!

How it affects her.

Will it change her awareness?

That's what I'd like to know.

Karl?

Isn't the method exactly the same?

The method may be the same, Marianne.

It's the results that count.

Okay, Mrs. Ksters!

A bit closer to the stove!

And now, stir!

Yes. That's good.

Was your husband satisfied

with your cooking?

Or did he sometimes complain?

Hermann was a quiet man.

He never complained.

If he didn't like something, he said so.

You knew where you were. He was fair.

He was always fair.

That was fine.

Now let's take one of you working.

Would you sit down there?

Go on talking, Mrs. Ksters. I'm listening.

I suppose your husband liked a drink

now and then?

Of course. Every man does.

With the other workers.

Sure, he liked a drink.

And when he came home drunk?

What happened then?

He was never drunk,

not so as he couldn't stand upright.

He never drank much.

He would go straight to bed

and fall asleep.

And were there ever any quarrels?

Quarrels?

I used to laugh

when he couldn't walk straight...

and I'd say, "You old boozer!"

Then he'd say, "Leave me alone...

"I feel awful. I'm going to bed."

And he was off.

And now, one of you making the bed.

If you think so.

No. Don't hold the blanket so high!

It's covering your face.

How was your husband with the kids?

That's so long ago.

Thirty years or more.

But one thing I do know.

He was far too good.

They could get away with anything.

Sure, he hit the roof sometimes.

But he was younger then.

He'd smack them or give them a beating.

To tell you the truth,

I got one or two myself...

when I upset him.

But later he calmed down.

He became very quiet.

So, that about wraps it up.

Just a shot in the sitting room.

Maybe one of you holding a picture

of your husband? A recent one.

I'm sure you have one.

This is the last picture of him.

Taken three weeks ago at the zoo.

On Sundays, we often went to the zoo...

on Sunday.

If you'd just turn towards me.

Yes.

And the photo this way.

Yes, that's good.

Tell me,

your husband wasn't so young anymore.

The work must have been

pretty hard for him.

Did he never complain?

Was he dissatisfied with his bosses?

My husband never complained.

Maybe he'd say, "It was tough today."

But that was all.

He accepted his superiors.

I didn't ask often, either.

We just lived our lives, day in, day out...

without asking each other much.

Maybe I should have asked him more.

Perhaps he had troubles.

He just bottled it all up.

He was such a kind-hearted man.

He didn't do it for himself.

He did it for the others...

who were in the same situation.

For those...

who would have been laid off, too.

He was too good for this world.

That's what Max said, his foreman.

I have an idea.

We'll show them! A shot of you

at the factory gate. What do you say?

At the factory gate? I don't know.

- Mrs. Ksters? A telegram for you.

- Thanks.

A telegram from my daughter.

She's arriving at the airport at 12:00.

I have to pick her up.

You have a daughter? I didn't know that!

She doesn't work here. She's away a lot.

Corinna's a singer, you know.

A singer? That's interesting!

I'll take you to the airport.

At 12:
00, you said? I can manage that.

Well, thanks. I'll just get ready.

Mom!

My name's Niemeyer. I'm a reporter.

Corinna Coren.

Can I drive you back to town?

I'm reporting on your father's case.

Did his death come as a great shock

to you?

Yes. It took me completely by surprise.

I'm on tour right now, you know.

Yes. It's terrible.

We reporters are said to be

a hard-boiled bunch...

but it's not true.

These things really touch us to the quick.

There were so many people

in the apartment.

The papers are probably full of it.

It's a good thing I haven't read them yet.

They're bound to say

nasty things about your father.

And he was such a good man.

Say he was a good man!

Yes, Mom, he was a good man.

I'll do my utmost

to report as objectively as possible.

I promise you...

I'll do all I can.

That's good. Thanks.

I told you what my husband

was really like.

Yes.

May I invite you to lunch?

You must be hungry.

Yes, I am.

Pretty hungry.

It'll be easier to talk, too.

And there's a lot

I'd like to find out from you.

You can find out everything,

everything you want to know.

Thanks a lot.

But I have so much to do.

Later, Mother, later.

What I'm most interested in,

Miss Coren, is your childhood.

My childhood?

I never had a proper childhood.

We were very badly off.

We had nothing in those days.

But, dear, we always looked after you.

Yes, Mom, sure.

But compared to nowadays!

How could you have afforded it?

You...

left home at an early age?

What do you call early?

After high school. I wanted to study.

And your father wasn't supportive?

He couldn't see why a girl should study.

Ernst wasn't interested, and that left me.

But he never put obstacles

in your way, Corinna.

You were free to do what you wanted.

Dad didn't like students, Mother.

You know that as well as I do.

You never really studied anyway.

Yes. Things turned out differently.

I became a singer.

So your mother told me.

How did that come about?

It was fate.

I just sing.

And I write my own lyrics, too.

Really?

Yes.

- Excuse me a moment.

- Certainly.

Don't be offended by her.

She's always been a bit strange.

Not at all. I'm not offended.

On the contrary!

I'd like to speak to the editor

working on the factory murder case.

I'm the daughter.

My name's Coren.

Corinna Coren, that's my stage name.

My real name is Ksters.

Yes, I'm a singer.

I'm sure you've heard of my record.

It was a big hit:

"Men? Who Cares About Them?"

Yes, of course

I'm willing to talk to you. With pleasure.

I thought you'd be interested.

Any time.

- How about this evening at 8:00?

- If you like.

Yes, I would like.

- Where's my mother?

- She went to wash her hands.

Miss. The check, please!

We can't cancel the vacation, Mom.

There's money tied up in it.

We saved up the whole year.

You can't go away now,

after what happened to Dad!

You can't just go off!

He's not even been buried yet!

You can't just run away...

and leave me...

all alone.

I'm carrying a new life inside me.

I have to think of that.

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