The Secret Crown

Heidi nodded in agreement. ‘I love Munich as much as the next gal, but I’m with Petr on this one. We’ve barely had time to read any of the letters. Who knows what we could learn?’

Jones looked to Payne for support. ‘Jon?’

Payne took a deep breath. He knew his friend wouldn’t be happy. ‘Listen, I respect your hunches, you know I do. But right now we’re not even sure if Hauser and Sons still exists. I mean, it’s a long way to travel for a store that might have closed its doors in 1890.’

‘Yeah, but-’

Payne cut him off. ‘Even if I voted for you, we still would have lost the tiebreaker.’

‘Tiebreaker? What tiebreaker?’

‘Petr owns the chopper.’

Jones growled and snatched the receipt from Ulster’s hand. ‘In that case, I’m taking this and walking to Oktoberfest.’

Payne laughed. ‘Have a nice hike. Don’t talk to strangers.’

Ulster waited until Jones had left the room and disappeared into the darkness of the hallway. Then he glanced at Payne, concerned. ‘Good heavens! Is David miffed at me?’

Payne shook his head. ‘Relax. When he comes back, everything will be fine.’

Ulster gasped. ‘Comes back from where?’

‘Don’t worry! He didn’t go to Oktoberfest. If I had to guess, he went outside to get some air. Trust me, when he returns, he won’t even mention Munich.’

Jones climbed the ladder on the far side of the tunnel and opened the secret hatch. Thirty seconds later, he was sitting on the fake tree stump and glancing at his waterproof cell phone. Reception had been nonexistent in the grotto and the tunnel. Now that he was outside, he could finally make a call. He quickly entered a number from memory.

‘Research,’ said Raskin from his office at the Pentagon.

Jones instantly recognized his voice. ‘Randy, my man, it’s David Jones. I wasn’t sure you’d be working this late. I’m glad you’re on duty.’

Raskin typed away furiously. ‘Let me see if I got this straight. You’re happy that I’m working the graveyard shift. That’s awfully sweet of you.’

‘Come on, man. You know I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Then how did you mean it?’

‘I meant I’m glad you’re the one on duty because I need your expertise.’

Raskin adjusted the microphone on his headset. ‘Damn, DJ, that’s even worse! You’re glad I’m working the graveyard shift because you want to use me. You didn’t even say hello or ask how I’m doing. Yet you expect me to jump to attention.’

Jones groaned. ‘Wow! You, Jon – everyone’s giving me shit today.’

Raskin leaned back in his chair. ‘Please tell me you aren’t getting a divorce. I’m too old for joint custody.’

‘No, nothing serious. Just a disagreement about something we’re doing.’

Raskin played dumb. ‘Something you’re doing, where?’

‘Germany.’

‘Really? What are you doing in Germany?’

‘Long story. I’ll tell you about it some other time.’

‘Maybe you should tell me right now. You know, since you need my help.’

Raskin had a better security clearance than he did, so Jones wasn’t worried about him blabbing to anyone. Still, Jones was reluctant to tell him anything too juicy. ‘I wish I could, but I’m temporarily sworn to secrecy. As soon as I get permission, I’ll be happy to fill you in.’

‘I can respect that. It doesn’t mean I like it, but I can respect it.’

‘So,’ Jones said, ‘about that favour of mine …’

Raskin cracked his knuckles. ‘Fire away.’

‘I’m staring at a receipt from 1886. I was hoping you could tell me a little bit more about the store itself. What business they were in and so on.’

‘What country?’

‘Germany.’

Raskin opened a database on one of his screens. ‘What city?’

‘Munich.’

‘Munich,’ he mumbled as he dragged a chunk of data from one screen to another with his mouse. ‘Please tell me you have a name or address. Otherwise, this is going to take a while.’

‘Actually I have both. The store was called Hauser and Sons, and it was located on a road called Briennerstrasse. It’s the oldest road in Munich.’

‘Whoop-dee-fuckin’-doo. The age of the road doesn’t help at all. But do you know what would help? If you could spell that for me. That would help a bunch.’

Jones laughed and spelled Briennerstrasse. ‘Anything else?’

‘Just give me silence, so I can do my thing.’

The sound of typing filled the line for several seconds. Every once in a while, Raskin would curse at one of his databases, but it was usually followed by some sort of taunt that let the computer know who owned its ass. To Jones, it was like a progress bar on a computer screen. When the taunts increased, it meant Raskin was getting closer to the end.

‘So,’ Raskin eventually said, ‘do you want the good news or the bad news? Because I have a little bit of both.’

‘No games. Just tell me.’

‘Hauser and Sons was a family-owned jewellery store that opened in 1845. It stayed open until 1933 when the National Socialists – i.e. the fucking Nazis – took control of Germany. After that, the city of Munich changed dramatically. As you know, the Allies bombed the shit out of the city during World War Two. I’m talking seventy-plus air raids, not to mention a ground assault. By the time we took control of Munich in 1945, the city was mostly rubble.’

Jones cursed under his breath. He had been confident the receipt would lead them to Camelot. Now he’d have to go down below and admit his mistake to everyone. ‘What about the Hausers? Are any of them still around? Maybe I can-’

‘Hold up! I’m not done. The best part is yet to come.’

‘Sorry, my bad. Please continue.’

Raskin collected his thoughts. ‘As usual, our government felt guilty about blowing up a city, so Uncle Sam rebuilt Munich with American tax dollars. Which, on a personal note, didn’t sit well with my grandparents since they were Jewish. Seriously, do you know how many holiday meals were ruined by stories about the past?’

Jones smiled. ‘You’re Jewish, I’m black, let’s move on.’

‘Anyway, it didn’t take long for Munich to start thriving again. In 1955 Hauser and Sons opened a new store at a new location, which is still open today.’

‘Please tell me you’re serious.’

‘Of course I’m serious. I just sent the address to your phone.’

‘That’s awesome! I can’t wait to rub this in Jon’s face.’

‘Wait. So you two really are fighting?’

‘Not fighting. Just competing, like we always do.’

Raskin smiled. ‘In that case, I gotta ask: is he pissed at me?’

‘At you? Why would he be pissed at you?’

‘Because of his ringtone.’

Jones burst out laughing. ‘You changed his ringtone?’

‘Of course I changed his ringtone. Twelve times on three different phones. You’re telling me he still hasn’t figured it out?’

‘Nope. He’s clueless.’

Raskin grunted in frustration. ‘I have to admit, I’m kind of insulted by his confusion. Who else does he know who could pull a hack like that?’

‘Actually, he thinks it was me. Well, at least he did until yesterday.’

‘What happened yesterday?’

‘I was flying a chopper when you switched his ringtone to “Little Bunny Foo Foo”, so he knows I couldn’t have done it. Great song, by the way. It totally pissed him off.’

Raskin grinned in triumph. ‘Speaking of which, the next time you take Petr Ulster’s chopper, you really should get permission.’

‘Permission? What are you talking about?’

Raskin groaned at his mistake. He didn’t want Jones to know too much about his cyber-stalking, for fear it would upset him. ‘To change Jon’s ringtone, I’ve been forced to track his phone. Because of that, I know you guys spent the night at the Ulster Archives.’

‘And?’

‘I was bored, so I ran a search on Petr’s latest projects. You know, just to see if he was working on anything exciting.’

‘And?’

‘And I noticed his personal chopper had been reported stolen.’

‘When?’ Jones demanded.

‘About an hour ago.’

‘By whom?’

Raskin quickly pulled up the information. ‘No name on the report, but it was filed by the Bavarian State Police in Munich. They’re tracking the beacon as we speak.’

‘Son of a bitch! Can you stop it?’

‘Of course I can stop it.’

‘Then stop it! Immediately!‘

Raskin typed furiously for the next several seconds. This time, there was very little cursing. ‘Okay … done! The beacon is toast.’

‘Thanks, man, I appreciate it. I really do. But I gotta go.’

‘Why? I told you, I stopped the beacon.’

Jones opened the secret hatch. ‘I know you did, but we’ve been sitting still for the last hour. Whoever was tracking us knows where we are.’

67

Using the camera feature on his phone, Payne started taking pictures of the artwork and blueprints that hung from the walls. He knew from experience that missions, particularly those in uncharted territories, were prone to interruptions, so he compiled as much documentation as he could while he still had the chance.

His foresight proved invaluable when he heard the sound of footsteps in the tunnel. Worried, he pulled his weapon and headed for the door. ‘Be quiet. Someone’s coming.’

Ulster dismissed the warning. ‘It’s probably David.’

Payne listened closer. ‘Then why is he running?’

Heidi and Ulster immediately tensed and looked to Payne for further instructions. Unfortunately, he didn’t have many options. They were in a windowless room with only one exit, which led to a concrete tunnel with no protection. The best they could do was stay put and hope for the best. With that in mind, Payne swung the door until it was nearly closed. The gap was just wide enough to keep an eye on the hallway.

Then he pointed at the desk. ‘Turn off your lights and stay low.’

They quickly followed his orders.

As the footsteps got louder and louder, Payne calmly aimed his Sig Sauer into the hallway. For the next few seconds, shot discipline would be essential. The only way he would fire was if he saw men with automatic weapons or explosives. Otherwise, violence wasn’t warranted. Still, it was wise to take the necessary precautions. In the darkness behind him, Heidi and Ulster crouched near the floor, the two of them huddling together for support. Hearts pounding, palms sweating, they prayed the noise in the hallway was Jones and there wasn’t an actual threat.

Only half of their prayers were answered.

‘Jon!’ Jones called as he ran towards the room.

Payne recognized his voice. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Someone tracked Petr’s chopper. We gotta go!’

If anyone else had sounded the warning, Payne would have asked for additional information before he gave the order to abandon the site. But he trusted Jones far too much to question his judgement. ‘You heard the man. Let’s go!’

Heidi stood up and started to complain. ‘We’re leaving? Why are-’

‘Now!’ Payne growled. ‘Or you’re on your own.’

She looked to Ulster for support. ‘Petr? It’s your helicop-’

Ulster, like a father quieting his child, put his fingertip on her lips. ‘Hush, my dear. It’s time to go. Not another word.’

Heidi wasn’t happy, but she scurried out the door.

Payne fought the urge to smile. ‘Follow DJ. He’s got the lead.’

Ulster glanced around the room one last time, disappointment etched on his face. There was so much more he wanted to learn about Ludwig and his final years as king. Ulster hoped he would have a chance to return someday soon to finish his historical research. If not, he would always be filled with regret. ‘Will you be locking the door?’

Payne nodded. ‘I’ll even let you hold the key.’

Ulster thanked him, then lumbered towards the others.

Meanwhile, Jones was already approaching the vertical shaft that led to the fake stalagmite. Although the deep water of the Venus Grotto would temporarily slow them down, he realized it was the fastest route to the chopper. Plus, he wanted to grab their personal belongings and the map, which had been stashed by the control panel, before they left the castle grounds. No sense in giving anyone else a head start in finding them or Ludwig’s secret room.

Jones waited for Heidi’s arrival before he climbed the ladder. When he reached the top, he made sure they were safe, then signalled for her to join him. One by one, they popped out of the stalagmite and jumped into the Grotta Azzurra. As usual, Payne was the last one out. He made certain the hatch was secure while the others headed for the shore. According to his watch, it was already past ten. That meant the Linderhof gates were officially open. An influx of tourists would make things messy, especially if gun play was involved. Payne hoped it wouldn’t come to that, but he didn’t know what they were facing since he hadn’t been fully briefed.

Less than a minute later, they were gathering their things and rushing towards the door. As an ex-employee, Heidi knew where supplies were stored in the bowels of the grotto. To protect the map and the black swan envelope, she placed them in a clean plastic bag and handed it to Ulster – not to avoid the responsibility, but because she assumed she would be driving the golf cart back to the chopper. Nevertheless, Ulster thanked her for the sign of respect.

‘Okay,’ Jones said as he hustled towards the secret entrance, ‘keep your eyes open. If you see anything suspicious, call it out. Understood?’

Soaking wet, they nodded in agreement.

Jones continued. ‘I’m out of the door first. Stay here until I give the all clear.’

With gun in hand, Jones cranked the handle that held the door in place. There was a soft click followed by a loud rumble as the giant boulder turned on its centre axis. Jones knew exactly what to expect this time, yet he couldn’t help but smile. It really was a cool special effect, the type of thing that was commonly used in movies but rarely seen in real life. The fact that it was over a hundred years old made it even cooler.

When the boulder stopped moving, Jones peeked through the resulting fissure. He hoped to see their golf cart and a deserted path. Instead, he was greeted by a four-man hit squad. They were armed with semi-automatic pistols and sound suppressors. Ordered by Mueller to follow the chopper’s beacon, the squad would have entered the grotto a lot sooner had they been able to figure out the secret door; now that was no longer an issue. They were standing in a semi-circle in front of the opening, all of them poised to shoot.

Schultz, the lead goon, stepped forward. ‘Raise your hands!’

Jones cursed under his breath. He was severely out gunned, and he knew it. Even if he killed their leader, the other three would mow him down in less than a second. Things would have been different if he had been alone. He would have bolted back inside the grotto in the hope of losing the goons in the darkness, but he couldn’t risk it with Heidi and Ulster standing behind him. Without instructions, they wouldn’t know what to do or where to go. So Jones decided to stand his ground as long as possible, hoping to give Payne a chance to hide them inside.

To buy some time, Jones replied in Spanish. ‘No hablo Ingles.‘

Unfortunately, Schultz spoke Espanol a lot better than Jones did. ‘!Levante sus manos!!Deje su arma!‘

Jones grimaced. His tactic had backfired. So he decided to switch to Russian. He had learned some on a recent trip to Saint Petersburg. ‘

.’

Schultz wasn’t stupid. He had been willing to give Jones the benefit of the doubt with Spanish, but he knew damn well Jones wasn’t Russian. ‘Stop stalling. I know you and your friends can speak English. Your pilot told us that and more.’

Jones glanced over Schultz’s shoulder and spotted Baptiste in the back of the golf cart. His hands were tied, and his face was bloodied. ‘What do you want?’

‘I want you to raise your hands and drop your gun.’

To buy more time, Jones decided to press his luck. ‘Are you sure about that? Because if I raise my hands first, I’m liable to drop my gun on my head. And between you and me, scalp wounds are rather messy.’

Schultz smiled, then calmly pulled his trigger. A silenced round whizzed past Jones’ ear and burrowed into the rocky mound behind him. ‘So are bullet holes.’

Jones quickly dropped his gun. ‘Good point.’

‘Now take three steps forward, then kneel.’

‘Big steps or baby steps?’

Schultz didn’t answer. He simply readjusted his aim. His new target was a spot between Jones’s eyes. From close range, it would be tough to miss. With Schultz’s patience wearing thin, Jones decided to follow his orders. As things stood, he had already bought Payne more than enough time to hide their friends in the grotto and to plan an attack.

If the goons went inside, Payne would kill them.

If they didn’t, Payne would escape through the tunnel.

Either way, Jones had done his duty.

The rest would be up to Payne.

68

Payne refused to take any chances with Heidi and Ulster. Instead of stashing them in the darkness of the grotto, he ordered them to hide in the secret tunnel. He knew the concrete would protect them from gun fire, and in a worst-case scenario, they could exit through the fake tree stump and escape through the castle grounds. Surprisingly, neither of them complained. They jumped in the water and swam towards the Grotta Azzurra where they would enter the stalagmite.

Meanwhile, Payne eyed his surroundings and planned his assault. Unless the goons had recently toured the Linderhof, he knew he had the tactical advantage inside the grotto. Thanks to the man-made cavern and the special effects, it would be like fighting a war in an amusement park. To tilt the terrain in his favour, he hustled to the control panel and turned on the waterfall. Within seconds, water gushed from its spout and splashed into the lake. Next he turned on the wave machine and turned off the underwater lights. Suddenly the dark water resembled an angry sea, its waves crashing against Ludwig’s boat and the nearby path.

Payne smiled at the sight. Back in the Special Forces, he had spent many nights in similar conditions, sneaking onto foreign shores and taking out targets. He had enjoyed it then, and he would enjoy it now. About the only thing missing was Jones by his side. And yet, somehow Payne knew that his best friend was fine and that they were still working in unison.

Jones would lure them in, and Payne would take them out.

Just like old times.

Near the bottom of the control panel, Payne spotted a large dial that looked like the volume control on a stereo. Hoping to limit his opponent’s communication, Payne turned the knob. Instantly the soaring vocals of Richard Wagner’s Tannhauser, one of Ludwig’s favourite operas, filled the grotto. Payne grinned and cranked the volume even louder. In a confined space, the music and the darkness would conceal his movement until he was ready to strike.

Now all he had to do was wait.

The goons entered the grotto completely unprepared. No flashlights. No maps. No advanced surveillance. They just stormed into the darkness en masse, a cluster of three soldiers on a well-lit path. Apparently they hadn’t been briefed on the shootout in the gorge; otherwise they would have thought long and hard about a frontal assault against a highly skilled soldier.

Of course, that was the problem with most goons. They weren’t trained to think.

Payne crouched in the dark lake, allowing his body to rise and fall with the surging tide. He was close enough to the path to be accurate, but far enough away to be unseen – until his muzzle flash lit up the cavern like a lightning bolt. If he’d had more time to work with, he would have picked them off silently, using his bare hands and his blade. Unfortunately, Jones was in immediate danger, so the clock was ticking.

He was forced to make his move now.

For Payne, the first shot would be the easiest. He raised his Sig Sauer above the waterline and aimed at the lead goon’s throat. Because of the undulating waves, Payne knew his aim might be affected vertically. If he shot high, he would hit the face. If he shot low, he would hit the chest. If his aim was true, he would hit the jugular. No matter what, the goon would go down. After that, Payne would have to swing his weapon to the right and get off two more shots before the last goon spotted Payne’s position in the water. If that happened, things would get interesting.

The blaring music masked the blast as Payne pulled his trigger. The bullet caught the lead goon under his chin and killed him instantly. He collapsed on the narrow path, effectively blocking the two men behind him. Payne wasted no time and fired at the second goon. The rising water pushed his aim high, but not high enough for the guy to survive.

Just like that, there was one goon left.

His name was Faust, and he was smarter than the others.

He quickly fired a shot towards Payne’s muzzle flash, then jumped into the dark lake even though he wasn’t a good swimmer. For Faust, it had been a spur of the moment decision, one that helped him survive since the lit path had been a shooting gallery and his team had been the targets. Another moment and he would have been killed like his colleagues.

In the water, at least he had a chance.

Three days earlier, Payne had been swimming on the bottom of the Ohio River, blindly looking for a lost bottle opener. Now he was searching for prey in a man-made lake.

In his mind, this would be far easier.

With a knife in his hand and his lungs full of air, Payne glided underwater towards the panic-stricken Faust. The lake was deep enough and dark enough to conceal Payne’s approach, so he wasted no time once he spotted the thrashing legs of his target. Attacking from behind, Payne grabbed the back of Faust’s collar and yanked him under the surface of the water. Faust bucked and flailed, trying to break free, but Payne ended the battle with a quick slash of his blade. Blood gushed from Faust’s neck as he dropped his gun and tried, in vain, to hold the fluid inside his body. But it wasn’t to be. Within seconds, the life had drained out of him.

Payne held on until the struggling stopped, then he pushed the corpse aside and swam hard towards the shore. He sprang from the water and landed on the narrow path, not far from the second dead goon. Normally, Payne would have been reluctant to use someone else’s weapon unless his own gun was damaged or out of ammo, but in this case, it made sense strategically. The goon’s Beretta was equipped with a sound suppressor, which would be useful outside the grotto – especially if more men were positioned around the Linderhof grounds. The last thing Payne wanted was to make them aware of his presence. With that in mind, he picked up the Beretta, fired a test shot into the water, then headed towards the fake boulder.

While kneeling on the hard ground, Jones could hear the music seeping from the opening behind him. Although he wasn’t familiar with this particular opera, he found himself humming along – partially to calm his nerves and partially because he was bored.

Based on Schultz’s tactics, it was fairly obvious that he had been ordered to follow the beacon and question the chopper’s occupants before anyone was eliminated. Otherwise, Jones and Baptiste would already be dead, and Schultz would be inside the grotto looking for Payne, Heidi and Ulster. Once Jones thought this out, his attitude changed. If given the opportunity, Jones would still make a move on Schultz, but he wasn’t about to do anything desperate. At least not until Payne had a chance to wipe out the rest of his crew. In the meantime, he would do everything he could to keep his captor distracted.

Jones stared at Schultz, who was fifteen feet away. ‘What time is it?’

‘Time to shut up.’

He acted offended. ‘Damn! Why are you so mean? Have you always been like this? If so, you got in the right line of work. Lots of angry men in the goon business.’

‘I’m not a goon.’

‘Really? What are you then?’

‘I’m a soldier.’

‘Me, too. How long have you worked for Mueller?’

Schultz glanced around. He wasn’t used to chatty prisoners. Normally they were quivering with fear, not trying to make conversation. ‘Two years.’

‘Good employer?’

‘Not bad.’

‘Benefits?’

Schultz caught himself before he answered. ‘That’s it! No more talking. I know what you’re trying to do.’

‘Really? What’s that?’

‘You’re trying to distract me.’

‘Is it working?’

‘Not a chance.’

During the past few seconds, Jones had noticed the music getting softer. Either someone had turned down the volume, or someone was standing near the fissure blocking the sound as it tried to escape the grotto. If he had to guess, it was probably the latter.

‘One last question, then I promise I’ll shut up.’

Schultz glared at him. ‘What is it?’

‘Do you know why we’re here?’

He sneered. ‘I’ll find out soon enough.’

Jones smiled, confident Payne was behind him. ‘No, you won’t.’

A moment later, Payne squeezed the trigger and ended the conversation.

Jones didn’t even turn around. ‘Took you long enough.’

‘Screw you,’ Payne snapped. ‘It was one against three.’

Jones stood and brushed off his knees. ‘Actually, it was three against three. Or don’t Heidi and Ulster count?’

‘In this case, they don’t. I sent them to safety.’

‘Then you better go and get them. We need to lift off, asap.’

‘Me? What about you? What are you going to do?’

Jones pointed at the golf cart. ‘I need to check on Baptiste. If he can’t fly, I’m the pilot.’

‘Fine! We’ll meet you here in five.’

Jones suddenly turned serious. ‘By the way, thanks.’

Payne nodded, then disappeared into the darkness of the grotto.

69

Munich, Germany

Oktoberfest is the world’s largest fair. Held annually in Munich, the sixteen-day festival attracts more than six million visitors a year. The original Oktoberfest took place in 1810 and commemorated the marriage of Princess Therese of Saxe-Hildburghausen and Crown Prince Ludwig, who later became King Ludwig I. (He was the namesake of Ludwig the Second and his paternal grandfather.) The event is held in the Theresienwiese – which translates to Therese’s meadow – an open space of four and a half million square feet that is south-west of the centre of the city. The festival is so important to Munich’s economy that the massive field has its own subway station. During the event, the U-Bahn station handles roughly 20,000 people per hour in each direction.

Because of security concerns, Payne was thrilled that Hauser amp; Sons was located on the opposite side of the city, far away from the madness. Baptiste landed the chopper on a corporate helipad six blocks from the store, then took off as soon as his passengers had hustled to safety. Although Jones was convinced that Raskin had handled the beacon problem, Baptiste was instructed to fly around the city to confuse would-be pursuers.

As a former resident of Munich, Heidi led the way to the store while Payne followed closely behind. Unlike the crowds of foreigners that filled the sidewalks, she knew exactly where she was headed. Energized by the palpable buzz in the city, her pace was so quick at times that Ulster struggled to keep up. Eventually, Payne grabbed her elbow and urged her to slow down – not only for Ulster’s sake, but also for the group’s safety. The further they were spread apart, the tougher it was to keep an eye on everybody.

Ironically, Heidi wasn’t the least bit excited about their trip to the store. She thought it might result in a small titbit about Ludwig but didn’t think it was worth their time and effort, not at this stage of their search. In fact, the only one who truly believed in the significance of the receipt was Jones. For some reason, he just sensed it was critical and wouldn’t let it rest. In the end, Payne and Ulster were willing to play along in order to shut Jones up.

Located in a brown brick building on a commercial street, Hauser amp; Sons had the glossy look of a high-end store. Its name was written in gold calligraphy on an elegant sign above the tinted glass doorway. Display cases, filled with a wide assortment of jewellery, sat behind the shatterproof windows. Lit by overhead lights discreetly hidden from public view, the jewels sparkled like stars in the desert night.

Heidi wanted to stop for a longer look, but Payne dragged her away from the window and towards the door. For the next few minutes, he needed her to focus on the receipt, not the diamond necklace she had been admiring. Heidi nodded and promised she would be on her best behaviour, but the moment they entered the store, she was distracted by a pair of earrings. Then a tennis bracelet. Then a gold ring. Before he knew it, she was in shopping mode.

Dressed in a designer suit, Friedrich Hauser watched the action unfold from his desk near the back of the store. Over the decades, he had witnessed a similar scene play out more times than he could possibly remember. The truth was he made his living on the type of excitement that she was displaying. He only hoped the woman (or one of her friends) had the bank account to match her expensive taste. If so, it would be a great afternoon.

‘Guten tag!‘ he said as he strolled forward.

Payne waved and said, ‘Hello.’

Hauser, a man in his mid-sixties, smiled warmly. ‘Ah, you are visiting our city. I should have known. Everyone is a visitor during Oktoberfest. Where are you from?’

‘America.’

‘That is a long way to come for jewellery. I guess our reputation is growing.’

Payne laughed and shook his hand. ‘From the looks of things, your reputation is well deserved. You have a beautiful store.’

Hauser beamed. ‘I thank you – and so do my ancestors.’

The comment caught everyone’s attention, including Heidi’s. She turned away from the main display case and joined the others.

‘You’re the owner?’ Payne asked.

‘One of them. My name is Friedrich Hauser.’

Payne introduced his group. ‘I’m Jon. This is David, Petr and Heidi.’

Hauser nodded. ‘Nice to meet you. How may I be of service?’

Payne took a step back. ‘DJ, the floor is yours.’

Hauser smiled and waited for an explanation.

Jones took over. ‘We found something from your store, and we were hoping you could give us some additional information about its owner.’

Hauser arched his eyebrow. ‘Let me guess: you found a ring! People lose them all the time. Thankfully, we keep wonderful records. Can you describe the piece?’

Jones shook his head. ‘No, not a ring. We found a document.’

‘A document? I don’t understand.’

Ulster pointed at one of the display cases. ‘May we show you?’

Hauser nodded and walked to the opposite side of the case while Jones placed the receipt on the freshly cleaned glass. Over the next several seconds, the group watched in silence as Hauser inspected the antique document. Strangely, he seemed to go through a wide range of emotions in a short period of time – confusion, followed by excitement and finally trepidation. Meanwhile, his body went on a similar journey. Gone was the relaxed posture of a moment before, replaced by the rigid stance of a prison guard.

His eyes narrowed to slits. ‘Where did you get this?’

Jones answered. ‘We found it in a desk.’

‘Whose desk?’

‘For the time being, I’d rather not say.’

Hauser grimaced and returned his attention to the document. It was painfully obvious that he knew what he was looking at, yet something prevented him from admitting it. Payne was tempted to go on the offensive and question him, but before he had a chance, Hauser looked at him directly. ‘May I take this into the back? I’d like to show it to my father.’

Payne shook his head. ‘Actually, we’d prefer if he came out here and talked to us in person. We’d love to meet him.’

‘That will be difficult. He doesn’t move around very well.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that, but we go where the receipt goes. If you’d like, we’re more than willing to visit him. Just lead the way.’

Hauser stared at the document and sighed, the weight of the world on his shoulders. He looked like a man who truly didn’t know what he was supposed to do. ‘Wait right here. I’ll see which my father would prefer. In the meantime, can one of you lock the main door?’

‘Why?’ Heidi asked.

‘Whichever he decides, this matter should be handled in private.’

Payne nodded. ‘You talk to your father; we’ll get the lock.’

Hauser went into the back while Heidi took care of the door. Meanwhile, Payne, Jones and Ulster tried to figure out what was going on.

Jones whispered. ‘Did you see Hauser’s face? The guy was scared – almost as though I’d handed him a ransom note. If this receipt says “give me your money” in Bavarian, we’re fucked.’

Payne shook his head. ‘That wasn’t fear. That was anxiety. He’s nervous about something. For the time being, I think it would be best if we spread out in the store.’

‘Why’s that?’ Ulster wondered.

‘If he comes back with a shotgun, I don’t want to be an easy target.’

‘Are you serious?’

Payne shrugged half-heartedly. ‘Kind of, but not really. It’s obvious we’ve stumbled onto something important. Until we know what that is, I think it’s best if we take precautions.’

‘Like what?’ Heidi asked.

‘Like spreading out in the store.’

Jones moved first, grabbing a defensive position near the front door, while Heidi and Ulster went to opposite corners. Meanwhile, Payne stood off to the right where he had a clear view of the entire room. From there, he could see everything and control the action.

Five minutes later, Hauser emerged from the back. Although his hands were weapon-free, he was armed with a question – one that would determine what happened next. He spotted Payne off to the side and walked in his direction, sensing he was the leader of this group. Hauser stopped a few feet in front of him and lowered his voice to a whisper.

‘My father,’ he said, ‘is nearly a hundred years old. During his lifetime, he has suffered through two world wars and the death of his entire generation. In the last decade, he has buried the love of his life and two of my sisters, so the man has endured far more than most. Because of that, I’m willing to respect his wishes – even in situations that I don’t fully understand.’

Payne stared at Hauser, trying to figure out where this was going. ‘What does any of that have to do with us?’

‘I spoke to my father about the receipt, and, well, to be perfectly honest, he got upset.’

‘Upset?’

Hauser nodded. ‘He said he didn’t have the strength to talk to you. Unless …’

‘Unless, what?’

‘Unless you can answer a question.’

Intrigued by the whispering, Ulster crept closer. ‘What’s the question?’

Hauser sighed. ‘That’s the thing. It isn’t even a question. It’s more like a statement that you’re supposed to finish. If you finish it correctly, my father will speak to you. If not, I’m supposed to escort you from the store.’

Ulster welcomed the challenge. ‘Such fun! What’s the statement?’

‘Yeah,’ Heidi said as she approached, ‘what’s the statement?’

Hauser took a deep breath, then whispered the words his father had told him to say. ‘He who holds the key …’

The group answered in unison. ‘Gets to wear the crown.’

Hauser blinked a few times, stunned. ‘That’s correct. How did you … ?’ His voice trailed off as he thought about the past few years with his father. They had been more than difficult. ‘Do you know what? It doesn’t even matter. I’m just glad someone knew what he was talking about. He’s been babbling about your receipt for ever. Until today, I thought maybe it was a figment of his imagination. I’m thrilled to know it wasn’t.’

Payne cut to the chase. ‘Does this mean we can talk to him?’

Hauser answered cryptically. ‘Not only that, it means you get to open the case.’

‘What case?’ Jones demanded.

Hauser smiled. ‘You’ll find out soon enough.’

70

Hauser led the group into the stockroom at the rear of the store. To their right was a walk-in vault that protected the most valuable merchandise at Hauser amp; Sons and any currency that had been collected during the course of the week. To their left was a small office filled with a desk, chair, computer, printer and three filing cabinets. Everything was simple and clean.

‘Where’s your father?’ Payne asked as his eyes darted from side to side, looking for danger. While he walked, he kept his hand near his gun. ‘I thought he was back here.’

Hauser glanced over his shoulder. ‘He’s in his workshop, which is in the rear corner of the building. We put it back there so the noise wouldn’t disturb the customers.’

Jones whispered. ‘If he’s chained up and making sneakers, we’re going to set him free.’

Hauser didn’t hear the joke. ‘I wanted him to retire years ago, but he says work is the only thing keeping him going. If that’s the case, he can stay here as long as he wants.’

Heidi asked, ‘What kind of work?’

‘Jewellery design and repair. Despite his age, he still has the hands of a surgeon. Unfortunately, his eyes are a different story.’

They walked down a hallway and came upon a well-lit repair shop where an old man was sitting on a metal stool, hunched over a counter. Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt and a pair of dark pants held up by braces, he stared through a high-powered magnification lamp that allowed him to see the necklace clasp he was working on. He was also wearing a thick pair of glasses attached to a black cord hanging round his neck.

Without turning his head, he sensed the group’s approach and calmly laid down his tools. After all this time, someone had finally come to claim the item. It was a moment his family had been waiting for since 1886. Although his role had been small over the years, he was honoured to be a part of the conclusion and thrilled to share the moment with his son. With a great effort, he swivelled on his seat until he faced the doorway. He wanted to get a good look at the group that had found the receipt and answered his question correctly.

‘Please come in,’ he said with a thick Bavarian accent. ‘I apologize for not coming to greet you, but as my son surely mentioned, my mobility is poor.’

Payne smiled warmly. ‘If anything, we’re the ones who should apologize for showing up unannounced. I’m sorry if we’ve inconvenienced you in any way.’

Appreciative of the sentiment, the old man stuck out his hand and formally introduced himself. ‘My name is Alexander. It is a pleasure to meet you.’

‘The pleasure is ours,’ Payne said as they shook hands. ‘My name is Jon.’

Jones followed his lead. ‘I’m David.’

‘I’m Heidi.’

Ulster went last. ‘And I’m Petr.’

Strangely, Ulster’s handshake lasted longer than all the others combined. After a few uncomfortable seconds, Ulster tried to release his hand from the old man’s grip, but Hauser held tight, his yellow fingernails digging into Ulster’s skin. Everyone, including Hauser’s son, was confused by the development. The old man finally blinked and released his grasp.

‘I am sorry,’ he said, obviously embarrassed. ‘It’s just, well, I saw …’

With empathy in his eyes, Ulster looked at Hauser and tried to figure out what had just happened. For a split-second or two, it seemed as if the old man had gone somewhere else in his mind. ‘You saw, what?’

He swallowed hard and tried to explain. ‘As a jeweller, I could not help but notice the ring on your finger. With your permission, may I take a closer look?’

Ulster stared at his right hand. The gold ring was a permanent fixture. Not only because of its personal significance, but also because of his weight gain over the years. ‘Unfortunately, I’m unable to remove the ring. My fingers are a tad too plump.’

‘That is fine,’ he assured him. ‘I can work round that.’

With some effort, Hauser picked up the magnification lamp. It was attached to a manoeuvrable spring arm and clamped to the counter. As everyone watched closely, he slowly pulled the powerful lens towards Ulster’s hand and adjusted the settings on the light so he could get a better look at the family crest on the ring. When the image – an eagle with a sword in one talon and a scroll in the other – came into view, the old man gasped in recognition. He hadn’t seen the coat of arms in more than sixty years.

‘Are you an Ulster?’ the old man asked.

He was taken aback. ‘Yes, sir. My name is Petr Ulster.’

‘And your grandfather, what was his name?’

‘Conrad. Conrad Ulster.’

The old man trembled slightly. A few seconds passed before he lifted his eyes to meet Ulster’s gaze. For the first time, everyone noticed that the old man had started to cry. ‘Then it has come full circle.’

Hauser’s son rushed forward. ‘Papa, what is wrong?’

The old man shook his head for several seconds. When he finally spoke, his voice quivered with emotion. ‘Nothing is wrong, my son. Everything is right. The right people have come for the case. Please retrieve it from the vault.’

His son nodded, and moved away to fulfil the request.

Meanwhile, the old man slowly regained his composure. First, he wiped away his tears with his sleeve, then he pointed to a stack of folding chairs in the corner of the room. After years of being hunched over a counter, his spine was so curved he had trouble lifting his head.

‘Please take a seat. I’d like to look at you while we talk.’

As they carried their chairs across the room, Friedrich Hauser returned from the vault with a plain, wooden crate. It was nondescript in every way. He set it gently on the floor next to his father’s stool, then he took a chair for himself. From this point forward, he was like everyone else; he wanted to know what was going on, because he too had no idea what was about to be unveiled.

Hauser cleared his throat. ‘By now, all of you must think I am a crazy old man. I assure you I am not. My body might be failing, but my mind is still sharp. As for my tears, they came from an unexpected source. I have always known that someone would come for the case. I have been prepared for that for half of my life. What I didn’t know was who. At my age, nothing in the world surprises me. I have lived too long and seen too much to ever be astonished. Nevertheless, I was caught off guard by your ring.’

Ulster pointed at his finger. ‘My ring?’

Hauser nodded. ‘I have not seen it for decades. But, even with failing eyes, I recognized it at once. An artist always remembers his art.’

Ulster quickly connected the dots. ‘You made my ring?’

‘I did indeed. I carved the crest myself.’

‘I don’t understand. This was my grandfather’s ring.’

‘Yes,’ Hauser confirmed, ‘it belonged to your grandfather, but I was the one who made it. My father gave it to him after the war as a token of our thanks.’

‘Thanks? Thanks for what?’

‘For everything,’ Hauser explained. ‘For hiding our jewels during the war. For keeping his word when others had lied. For protecting the case from Nazi hands. Your grandfather was an amazing man. Without him, the item would have been lost for ever.’

Payne heard the words and breathed a sigh of relief. Only two days had passed since he had called Ulster and told him about the bunker in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. At the time, the discovery of Ulster’s coat of arms on a crate of missing artwork had been potentially devastating. It had threatened to stain Ulster’s name and tear apart everything the Archives represented. But after hearing Hauser’s heartfelt speech, he knew the Ulster legacy was safe.

Alexander Hauser patted Ulster on his shoulder. ‘Your grandfather was a hero.’

Ulster beamed with pride. ‘I guess he was.’

The old man waved his finger. ‘There is no guessing about it. Conrad Ulster was a hero. He saved countless treasures across Europe, then returned them to the rightful owners. If not for him, this store and many others never would have reopened. That is why my family gave him the ring. And that is why I’m glad you’ve come for the case.’

71

Payne stared at the wooden crate on the floor next to Hauser’s stool. Nothing about it seemed special. It was made of wood and looked eerily similar to the crates found inside the hidden bunker. As far as he could tell, the main difference was its size. It was about two feet in width, length and height. Certainly not large enough to hold an enormous treasure.

‘Sir,’ Payne said, ‘you keep mentioning the item. Can you tell us about its history?’

Hauser paused in thought, trying to decide where he should start a narrative that had been going strong for more than a hundred years. After a while, he posed a question to the group. ‘Tell me, are you familiar with Nostradamus?’

Payne and Jones exchanged knowing glances. Both of them were quite familiar with the sixteenth-century French prophet, renowned for his ability to see the future. Less than a year ago, they had discovered one of his lost manuscripts, and it had nearly got them killed.

Ulster answered for the group. ‘Yes, sir.’

‘And what about his connection to Ludwig?’

Heidi shook her head. ‘That’s news to me.’

‘Me, too,’ Ulster added.

Hauser smiled. ‘Then that is where we shall begin – way back in 1864 when Ludwig was still a prince and his father was slowly dying.’

The group leaned forward, not wanting to miss a single word.

‘King Maximilian the Second summoned his son to his bedside and warned him of a prophecy that he believed foretold the death of Ludwig. Though it did not appear in his book Les Propheties, the quatrain has long been attributed to Nostradamus, a man who has influenced many a king across Europe and many a man across time.’

Ulster interrupted him. ‘What was the prophecy?’

The old man answered in fluent French.

Quand le Vendredi Saint tombera sur le jour de Saint George,

Paques sur le jour de Saint Marc,

Et la Fete Dieu sur le jour de Saint Jean,

Tout le monde pleurera.

From personal experience, Ulster knew that Payne and Jones weren’t language experts, so he translated the verse into English.

When Good Friday falls on Saint George’s Day,

Easter on Saint Mark’s Day,

And Corpus Christi on Saint John’s Day,

All the world will weep.

The group pondered the quatrain for several seconds, trying to decipher its meaning. Even though Ludwig’s name wasn’t mentioned, they knew the verse could have been written about his death. Or not. That was the problem with most of Nostradamus’s prophecies; they could be interpreted in a number of different ways. Of course, that was also part of their allure.

Heidi spoke first. ‘Have those events ever occurred in the same year?’

‘It’s happened once. The year was 1886.’

She grinned. ‘The year Ludwig was murdered.’

Hauser nodded. ‘For two decades, Ludwig feared the approach of 1886 like a sailor watching an approaching storm. In his heart, he knew he wouldn’t survive that ill-fated year no matter what he did. Somehow that gave him the courage to finish his dream of creating a kingdom across the sea. Ironically, it was his pursuit of that dream that ultimately got him killed.’

Ulster frowned at the irony. ‘His cabinet found out?’

Hauser nodded again. ‘First Ludwig was arrested, then they silenced him for ever. The Bavarian government proclaimed its innocence in the whole affair, but I know the truth. Everyone who was living in Munich back then knows what happened. They murdered our king.’

Jones did the maths in his head. ‘Wait. You’re not that old … are you?’

The old man laughed. ‘Sometimes I feel like I am, but all of this occurred three decades before I was born. It was my grandfather, not me, who lived during Ludwig’s reign. When I was a young man, he told me about Ludwig’s life, and death, so I could pass the story on to future generations. It had a great impact coming from my grandfather, since he actually knew the king.’

Heidi stared in amazement. She was talking to someone who had second-hand knowledge about Ludwig. ‘Your grandfather knew him?’

Hauser nodded. ‘They worked together. Over a period of six months, they met more than a dozen times to discuss the item’s design. I’m sure you have heard rumours about Ludwig’s controlling manner. According to my grandfather, the rumours were quite accurate. Everything had to be perfect. Then again, for something this important, I can understand why.’

Payne didn’t want to be rude, but his curiosity was starting to get the best of him. The crate was sitting on the floor, a mere five feet away, yet he didn’t know what was inside. ‘Sir, you keep mentioning the item and talking about its importance, but none of us know what it is. If it’s okay with you, we’d love to know what’s inside the crate. It might help us understand.’

The old man smiled sheepishly. The item had been in his family for so long, he was having trouble letting go. Still, he knew it had to be done. Tears filled his eyes as he thought about the three men – his father, his grandfather and Conrad Ulster – who had protected the item before him. Selfishly, he wanted his son to be a part of the process, even if his duty was symbolic in nature. ‘Friedrich, it is time. Please remove the item and hand it to Petr. After all these years, that only seems fitting. The item is being passed from our family to yours.’

His son picked up the crate and placed it on a counter behind him. The lid had been nailed shut, so it would take a moment to pry it off. While he worked, his father filled the silence.

‘If you look past his quirks and all the rumours, Ludwig was nothing more than an idealist. It was the main reason he tried to leave Bavaria. He wanted the opportunity to create a perfect kingdom, one that he would be proud of. Some rulers would have started with a code of laws or a new system of government, but Ludwig was bored by bureaucracy. Instead, he focused his attention on the arts, for that was the one thing he was passionate about.’

The crate creaked behind him as his son worked on the lid.

‘Ludwig started with the basics, several years before his death. First, he designed his country’s flag, which featured an image he had drawn himself: an elaborate black swan. Then he contacted Richard Wagner, his favourite composer, and asked him to create a national anthem. Before long, Ludwig had hired Christian Jank and Eduard Riedel, the men responsible for Neuschwanstein, to design the most spectacular castle the world had ever seen. If that wasn’t difficult enough, they were asked to design it with no knowledge of the building site. Ultimately, by the time Ludwig acquired the land, both builders were approaching death.’

Heidi gasped at the news. ‘Ludwig found a location?’

Hauser nodded. ‘According to my grandfather, Ludwig selected a large parcel of land on the island of Capri. His goal was to start a city-state, similar to Monaco’s relationship with France. Ludwig would have independence, but Italy would be responsible for his defence.’

Jones instantly thought about the map of Capri he had found in the grotto. Currently, the document was locked in the helicopter for safekeeping, but he was willing to bet when they examined it closer they would find more than just the entrance to the secret tunnel. He was confident the map would reveal the exact location of Ludwig’s land – the place his kingdom would have been established if he had lived long enough to build it.

Ulster pondered the selection. ‘Actually, Capri makes a lot of sense for a creative soul like Ludwig. During the 1800s, it was a haven for artists, writers and musicians. Plus it was one of the few spots on earth where men and women were able to enjoy open lifestyles.’

Heidi asked, ‘Out of curiosity, did he have a chance to visit his land?’

Hauser shook his head. ‘It was never his land.’

The statement confused Heidi. ‘I don’t understand.’

Hauser explained. ‘Travel was far too difficult in those days to make a quick trip overseas, and Ludwig was being watched too closely to risk a long journey. Instead, he was forced to send a representative to Capri to make the arrangements for him. Unfortunately, the land was never officially purchased because of Ludwig’s paranoia.’

‘What do you mean?’ Ulster wondered.

‘Ludwig had never been the trusting sort, so it should come as no surprise that he didn’t give his delegate the funds to purchase the land. He gave his delegate the authority to negotiate a final price and reach an agreement on terms, but Ludwig refused to give him the money to complete the transaction. According to my grandfather, Ludwig planned to deliver the gold himself when he left Bavaria for the final time.’

Payne’s ears perked up. ‘Did you say gold?’

Hauser nodded. ‘Legend has it that he was going to finance his new kingdom with a collection of gold bars stamped with the black swan emblem. Of course, it’s only a legend. As far as I know, the gold has never been found.’

Somehow Payne, Jones and Ulster managed to keep a straight face, despite their recent discovery in the secret bunker. Meanwhile, Heidi, who knew nothing about the crate of gold, asked a follow-up question. ‘Where did the gold come from?’

Hauser started to address the topic but stopped when a loud crack emerged from his son’s workstation. Everyone glanced in that direction, worried that something important had broken.

Friedrich quickly assured the group that everything was okay. It was merely the sound of the lid being removed from the crate. ‘It’s ready, Papa.’

Hauser reached out his arms. ‘Come, my son. Help me to the case. We shall do this together.’

Even with his son’s assistance, it took a minute for the old man to get off his stool and walk to the counter behind him. By the time he got there, Payne, Jones, Ulster and Heidi had already gathered around the wooden crate. They were more than anxious to see its contents.

While Hauser caught his breath, Friedrich removed the lid from the wooden crate. After a nod of approval from his father, he reached inside. A moment later, he pulled out an elaborate gold case and handed it to Ulster, whose eyes widened with surprise. In all his days, he had never seen anything like it. Inlaid with rubies, emeralds, sapphires and pearls, the case measured slightly less than two feet in width, length and height. In the middle of all six sides, the black swan emblem had been discreetly carved into the gold.

Ulster spoke in a reverent tone. ‘It’s magnificent. It truly is.’

The elder Hauser, who hadn’t seen the case in years, reached out his hand and traced the symbol with one of his crooked fingers. ‘My great uncle built this himself. He worked non-stop for many months using jewels and gold donated to Ludwig’s cause. He had requested the materials via a series of letters.’

‘The black swan letters?’ Heidi asked.

His mind drifting elsewhere, Hauser nodded as he ran his hands down the left and right sides of the case. With his index fingers, he pointed to matching sapphires near the bottom of the cube. ‘To open the case, you must push these jewels at the exact same time. Ludwig loved his secret contraptions, and he chose sapphires to match the colour of the water in the Blue Grotto.’

The old man pushed the jewels.

Click.

All of a sudden, a horizontal seam appeared an inch above the bottom of the box. To open it, the top would have to be lifted straight off the base.

Hauser continued his explanation. ‘Ludwig did not want a hinge in the back. He wanted his case to be in two separate pieces: the base and the lid. That way he could display the item in the base without interference from the lid.’

Ulster looked at him. ‘You mean the cube isn’t the item?’

Hauser shook his head. ‘This merely holds the treasure within.’

Payne and Jones exchanged glances. They found it hard to believe that something more valuable was waiting inside. A few seconds later, their doubts were proven wrong.

Hauser wiped his eyes on his sleeve. ‘As you probably know, Ludwig was a vain man who always wore the finest clothes and robes. Even as a child, he valued beauty above all else. With that in mind, he wanted to look his absolute best when he sat on his throne for the very first time. He wanted to look like the king he had always pictured in his dreams.’

Hauser took a deep breath and lifted the lid off the gold case. For the first time in decades, he stared at his grandfather’s handiwork. It was more beautiful than he had remembered – more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. The group gasped at the sight.

‘To be that king, he needed the finest crown ever made.’

Epilogue

Friday, 24 September

Oktoberfest

Munich, Germany

The Hofbrauhaus, the most famous beer hall in Munich’s old town, has its own tent at Oktoberfest. Known as the Hofbrau-Festzelt, it is the largest of the thirty-four tents on the festival grounds, with a total capacity of nearly 10,000 people. During the sixteen-day festival, more than a half-million litres of Hofbrau beer would be served inside, not to mention a million pounds of meat. With many guests dressed in traditional costumes and a Bavarian Oompah band playing on the large stage, it was easy to get caught up in the fun.

As he made his way into the tent, the man spotted Jones at a large wooden table and decided to sneak up behind him. Well aware of Jones’s training, he took no chances with the ex-MANIAC. He patiently waited until Jones set down his mug before he wrapped his arm round his friend’s throat. Then he gave it a friendly squeeze.

Jones glanced back and saw the unmistakable chin of Nick Dial. It was the physical trait that defined him. ‘It’s about time. We were wondering when you’d show up. Or if you’d show up.’

Dial patted his shoulder. ‘Sorry about my tardiness. But some idiot shot a bunch of people in the grotto at the Linderhof. I had to go check it out.’

Jones grunted. ‘The nerve of some people!’

Payne, who was sitting across from Jones, stood and shook Dial’s hand. ‘Long time no see. We’re glad you could sneak away – if only for today.’

‘And I’m glad you’re still alive. Seriously, you guys are retired. You need to relax.’

Jones handed him a beer. ‘That’s exactly what we’re doing.’

Dial pulled out his chair. ‘Not to be a downer, but it’s getting harder and harder for me to clean up your messes. My badge can only do so much.’

Payne nodded in understanding. ‘Just say the word, and we’ll quit calling.’

‘And miss invitations like this? Not a chance.’

‘Come on, Nick. You know what I mean.’

Dial nodded. ‘We’re not there yet, but we’re getting closer.’

‘Understood.’

Jones glanced at Dial. ‘Any news on Mueller?’

Dial took a sip of beer. ‘Well, those were definitely his men at the Linderhof. Fingerprints and their arrest records prove it. According to my calculations, you’ve killed ten of his men in the past week. That’s bound to get you noticed.’

‘Define noticed.’

Dial chose his words carefully. ‘Mueller is a cold, calculating son of a bitch. He isn’t the type of guy who will challenge you to a gunfight at dawn, unless he knows he can win. My guess is he’ll take his time to find out everything he can about you. After that, he’ll come after you with a small army – or a very good assassin. Whatever he thinks will work best.’

Payne scanned the room. ‘Great.’

Dial forced a smile. ‘Don’t worry, it won’t be today. Oktoberfest is far too important to the local economy. If he struck here, the German government would destroy him. No way he would risk his entire organization for two Americans he’s never met. Even assholes like you.’

Jones poured another beer. ‘Good to know.’

‘So,’ Dial said as he noticed two empty chairs at their table, ‘where’s Petr? And didn’t you say something about an attractive blonde who might like handcuffs?’

‘They’ll be here soon. They’re flying in from Switzerland.’

Dial lowered his voice. ‘And what about Kaiser? How’s he doing?’

Payne answered. ‘He’ll live, but he’s pretty pissed off. During the assault, he caught some shrapnel in one of his eyes. The doctors tried to save it, but they weren’t successful.’

Dial winced. ‘I’d be pissed, too, if I lost an eye.’

Payne shook his head. ‘Actually, he can handle losing an eye. It’s the joking that’s got him pissed. We stopped by the hospital to see how he was doing, and DJ playfully called him “Long John Kaiser”. He even brought him a pirate eye patch as a gag.’

Jones grimaced. ‘In retrospect, it was a little too soon.’

Dial laughed at his friend’s antics. ‘If I were you, I’d buy him a gift. A really nice gift. This is someone you don’t want pissed at you.’

‘Trust me,’ Jones said, as he thought about the crate of gold that was waiting in Ulster’s vault, ‘we have just the thing to cheer him up.’

Over the next twenty minutes, the trio caught up on old times. They had known each other for years but rarely had a chance to get together because of the distance between Pittsburgh and France. Halfway through his story about the salami, Jones stopped and rubbed his eyes. Even though he’d had very little to drink, he was pretty sure his mind was playing tricks on him.

Jones asked, ‘What’s the alcohol content of this beer?’

Payne shrugged as he ate some roast pork. ‘I don’t know, why?’

‘I think Petr just arrived.’

‘And?’

‘Unless I’m imagining things, he’s wearing lederhosen.’

A few seconds later, Payne was laughing so hard he started coughing up food. The sight of Ulster, one of the most respected historians in the world, squeezed into the traditional knee-length leather shorts – his outfit completed with matching braces and a pointed hat with a red feather – was too much for him to handle. Not wanting to embarrass his portly friend, Payne quickly excused himself before Ulster reached their table.

Thanks to the massive crowd, Payne slipped away unseen. At least he thought he had until he felt a faint tap on his shoulder a minute later. He turned round, fully expecting to see a drunken tourist with a handful of beer. Instead, he saw Heidi. She was standing there in a gathered skirt with a low-cut bodice, a white apron and thigh-high white stockings. Her blonde hair, which was normally in a ponytail, had been separated into two braids, each tied with white ribbons that dangled in front of her cleavage.

‘Hey, stranger,’ she said before she kissed him on his cheek.

Payne struggled to catch his breath. ‘Wow.’

She smiled and curtsied. As she did, she swooshed her blue skirt back and forth with her hands. ‘Do you like it? It’s called a dirndl. It’s very popular in Bavaria.’

‘I can see why. You look incredible.’

She blushed slightly. ‘If that’s the case, why did you run away from me?’

‘When was that?’

‘Just now. I showed up with Petr, and you ran away.’

He apologized. ‘Sorry, I didn’t even see you. I started choking on my food and needed to clear my throat.’

She patted him on the back. ‘Are you okay?’

He nodded. ‘I am now.’

She linked her arm in his and pulled him off to the side of the tent. ‘Before we go back to the table, I just wanted to take a moment to thank you.’

‘For what?’

‘For letting me tag along on your adventure.’

He laughed at her description. ‘Yeah, like I had a choice.’

She gave him a playful shove. ‘Come on! I wasn’t that bad, was I?’

‘You mean, before you blackmailed your way onto the chopper or after?’

Heidi laughed at the memory. ‘After.’

‘In that case, you were great. We couldn’t have done it without you.’

‘Well, I don’t know about that, but I appreciate the sentiment.’

He turned and faced her. ‘Maybe you’re right. Maybe we could have done it eventually, but the truth is your presence really speeded up the process. I hope you know that.’

She smiled at the compliment. ‘I do now.’

‘So,’ he said, ‘how are things going with Petr?’

For the past few days, Heidi and Ulster had been working together at the Archives, trying to organize all the information they had learned about Ludwig. Eventually, their group would have to contact the local government about their discoveries at the Linderhof and Payne wanted Heidi to be a part of the process since she worked for the Bavarian Palace Department.

‘It’s been unbelievable,’ she gushed. ‘I’ve learned more history in the last week than I did during my four years of college. Suddenly, my eyes are open to a whole new world, and I’m looking forward to exploring it.’

‘Wow. You’re pretty young to be having a midlife crisis.’

She laughed. ‘Trust me, it’s not a midlife crisis, although I am thinking about changing jobs.’

‘Really? Do you have something in mind?’

‘As a matter of fact, I do. Earlier today, Petr offered me a position at the Archives, working as a paid intern. The money isn’t great, but the contacts I could make would be invaluable.’

‘Congratulations! That’s awesome news. When do you start?’

‘I don’t know. I haven’t accepted the position yet. Petr just offered it to me on the flight here, and I told him I needed some time to think.’

‘Personally, I think it would be foolish not to take it. With the Archives on your resume and a letter of recommendation from Petr, you can get a job at any museum or research facility in the world. His name carries that much weight.’

‘I agree, which is why I’m going to accept the offer.’

He threw his arm round her. ‘In that case, we need to celebrate your news. And since you’ll be taking a major cut in salary, everything is on me tonight.’

She snuggled against him. ‘If I drink enough, that might include me.’

Payne laughed at her comment, then ordered another round.

Author’s Note

The first time I saw a picture of Neuschwanstein, I didn’t think it was real. I figured it was a make-believe castle, drawn by a talented artist for an upcoming movie or the cover of a new game. I mean, who in their right mind would build something so whimsical? If you’ve never seen the castle, take a moment to look at the photos on my website. Then you’ll know what I’m talking about. (The internet address is listed below.)

Of course, I would later discover that the castle was real, and the man who commissioned it was downright crazy. Whether he was dressing up as the Swan Knight or riding his horse in circles for hours at a time, Ludwig the Second seems like a fictional character. But his eccentric behaviour – including his dream of starting a brand-new kingdom – has been well documented in several non-fiction sources. For more information, take a trip to your local library. While you’re at it, buy ten more copies of this book, make your friends and family read them, and then have a lengthy discussion on the topic. In fact, I recommend that for all my novels. Especially the buying ten more copies part. (Actually, just to be safe, better make it twenty.)

By the way, here’s one last thing I didn’t mention in the story, but I found it interesting nonetheless. Towards the end of Ludwig’s reign, one of the biggest concerns of the Bavarian government was the enormous amount of personal wealth he had spent on his castles, yet since his death in 1886, more than sixty million people have toured Neuschwanstein alone. Once you factor in visits to Linderhof Castle, Herrenchiemsee Palace and the King’s House on Schachen, Ludwig’s architecture has brought in billions of dollars of tourist revenue to Bavaria – far more than he ever spent on his building projects, even after adjusting for inflation.

In retrospect, maybe Ludwig wasn’t so crazy after all.

Please visit www.chriskuzneski.com for additional information about my writing, answers to frequently asked questions, and a brand-new section detailing the locations visited in my books. I’m really excited about this new addition to my website, and I encourage anyone interested in a visual tour of my books to check it out.

Acknowledgements

This book wouldn’t exist without the collective effort of many people. I’ve tried my best to thank everyone personally for his or her contribution, but there are a few I’d like to recognize here.

As always, I’d like to start with my family (especially my mom). Without their love and support, I wouldn’t be the person or the writer that I am today. Thanks for putting up with me.

Professionally, I want to thank my friend and agent, Scott Miller. Before we teamed up, I couldn’t find a publisher. Now my books are available all round the globe. Not too shabby for two guys from Pennsylvania. Speaking of geography, I’d like to thank Scott’s assistant, MacKenzie Fraser-Bub, and her sweet, southern accent. I smile every time she calls or answers his phone. (Of course, then she puts Scott on the line, and he instantly ruins my mood!) I also want to thank Claire Roberts – my foreign agent, who landed my British deal and many others – and her assistant Iris Hsieh. In short, I’ve got nothing but love for everyone at Trident Media.

To say that I’ve been thrilled with Penguin UK would be an understatement. How they managed to turn an unknown writer like myself into a bestselling author in the United Kingdom is a miracle – especially since my surname has way too many consonants to look pretty on paper. Believe it or not, even I don’t know how to pronounce it. In particular, I’d like to single out my well-dressed editor, Alex Clarke, and his charming assistant, Anthea Townsend. Working with them has been a wonderful experience.

Next is my awesome friend Ian Harper. I want to thank him for reading, rereading and then re-rereading everything I write and for all of his suggestions. His advice and expertise is, well, awesome! If anyone’s looking for a freelance editor, please let me know. I’d be happy to put you in touch with him. I highly recommend him.

Finally, I’d like to thank all the readers, librarians, booksellers and critics who have read my thrillers and have recommended them to others. At this stage of my career, I need all the help I can get, so I would appreciate your continued support.