TWENTY-SIX

Sarah pulled Nico over to the side of a building, so she could rest, and described to him everything she had seen. By the time she finished, some of her energy had returned. Her mind was moving rapidly. This couldn’t be the end. There had to be something they could do.

“The cat!” Sarah straightened up.

Nico, looking a little dazed, raised an eyebrow in query.

“When I took the galleon from Bettina’s apartment,” Sarah said in a rush, “I opened a window and a cat got in. I wasn’t supposed to do that, Bettina specifically said so. But I forgot and the cat got in and went straight for a closet.” They both began walking fast to Bettina’s building. “The rat might still be there. You’ll have to distract Herr Dorfmeister or something while I look for it.”

But when Sarah and Nico got to Paniglgasse 18, instead of Herr Dorfmeister they were greeted by a teary-eyed, freckle-faced, red-haired crowd—men in Tracht, mothers with babies in arms, young children running about, and older people stooped with age, all bearing the same clear genetic imprint. Candy the golden retriever lay on the floor in the middle of the group, despondent. Apparently Herr Dorfmeister had passed away in his bed that afternoon, and his entire clan had gathered to discuss his arrangements.

“It is quite sad,” said a young woman who introduced herself as Eva, his granddaughter. “But I suppose we should be grateful. He was an old man and he played tennis this very morning, then came home, lay down, and died peacefully in his own bed, with no illness. We should all be so lucky. Come in and have a glass with us. We are toasting Opa’s memory.”

“He was a lovely man and a very good chess player,” said Nico, looking over the chessboard as Eva handed them both large dripping steins of dark beer. “I’m sorry we didn’t get to finish our game. Dr. Müller”—he indicated Sarah—“and I will miss him very much.” Sarah felt something being slid into her pocket.

“Please excuse me for a moment,” Sarah murmured, and, handing her glass to Nico, she raced toward the elevator, pulling Bettina’s key out of her pocket.

* * *

Bettina’s heavy perfume had covered the scent before, but now that Sarah was focusing on it, she knew she could smell a rat. It had taken some doing to get to him, since Bettina had sealed up the wall of the closet very well, but after some vigorous demolition work, Sarah was able to find Hermes, looking a little drawn, inside a small cage with an automated feed and watering system.

She hauled this out and set the cage in the living room. They were both still sitting there, contemplating each other, when Nico entered. He joined them on the floor. Hermes perked up a little and moved to the edge of his cage, his tail wagging. He squeaked. Nico put a finger through the bars of the cage and Hermes put both his front paws on it.

“Hello, Hermes,” Nico said gravely. “I am Nicolas Pertusato.” With his other hand he pulled something out of his jacket pocket and handed it to Sarah. It was a chess piece.

“I am not so sure,” said the little man, “that the old man went so peacefully as his Sippe think.”

“What do you mean?”

“The game we started yesterday. It should have been my move. But someone made it for me. We should let him out.”

“What are you talking about?”

“He wants to stretch his legs. He won’t run away.”

“No, about the chess game.”

“Herr Dorfmeister made a move. We agreed to pause the game there.”

“So he made a move for you.”

“The man was nothing if not correct. Someone moved my queen. A very particular type of move, actually, most boldly done in Levitsky versus Marshall, 1912. It’s called the ‘shower of gold,’ in which you appear to sacrifice your queen but instead trap your opponent.”

Nico lifted up the door of the cage and they watched Hermes run joyfully around the apartment, up and down all the furniture, up the curtains, and over the clocks before he returned to drink some water, after which he took up a position on Nico’s shoulder.

“He’s not afraid of me.” Nico smiled. “I haven’t met an animal in over four hundred years that wasn’t. But it makes sense. We are two of a kind.”

“Okay, let me get this straight. You think someone murdered Bettina’s concierge.”

Nico shrugged.

“Bettina may be brilliant,” said Sarah after a pause, “but I don’t want her coming anywhere near Pols.”

“Agreed,” said Nico. “But I’m not leaving Hermes here.” The rat sniffed around the edges of Nico’s ears.

“When she realizes he’s gone, she’ll come looking for him,” said Sarah, standing up.

“And I’ll be waiting.” Nico stood up also. “We leave for Prague immediately, I think.”

“You’re leaving for Prague immediately,” said Sarah. “I’ve got one last piece of business.”

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