The Secret Crown

Payne’s jaw dropped open. He was possibly staring at the dumbest man in the world. ‘You’ve got to be shitting me!’

‘No, sir. I’d never shit you. I swear to God, those were my orders.’

Payne took a deep breath, stunned by Richter’s stupidity. He honestly didn’t know what to say to him. And even if he did, he was afraid it would be misinterpreted.

Richter frowned. ‘Did I do something wrong, sir?’

Payne sighed and pointed at the body. ‘If you think I’m cleaning that up, you’re crazy. Search him for an ID, then dump him in the river. I need to wipe his brains off my face.’

Richter smiled, relieved to be on his master’s good side. If he had been a dog, he would have wagged his tail and licked Payne’s shoe.

Taking no chances, Payne picked up the extra assault rifle and slung it over his shoulder. ‘On the way home, keep your weapon away from me at all times. Is that understood?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘I’m serious, Richter. If I even see your rifle, you’re not going to Oktoberfest.’

45

The lower Eckbauerbahn station was a short walk from the Olympic Ski Stadium where Adolf Hitler opened the 1936 Winter Olympics, the first winter games in history to light the symbolic Olympic flame. Built to hold over 10,000 spectators, the stadium had plenty of parking. On most days, the spaces were filled with family cars and tour buses, not helicopters, so it was easy for Jones to spot the chopper on the far side of the car park as his gondola pulled into the station.

Huber greeted him on the concrete platform. He was trailed by a group of Japanese tourists, who were half the size of the Austrian bodybuilders from the upper station but more than eager to help. Jones grinned at the irony of the situation. Decades earlier, Conrad Ulster, an Austrian philanthropist, had teamed up with a Japanese industrialist to smuggle a van Gogh painting into Germany during World War Two. Now the two countries were teaming up again to smuggle it out, right past a sports stadium built by the Nazis. For Jones, the only thing that would make this better was if a couple of tanks rumbled by.

‘What’s the status on transportation?’ Jones asked.

Huber answered. ‘The ski stadium has a giant plod that’s never used in the summer time. It’s like those ice machines for hockey rinks.’

‘You mean a Zamboni?’

‘If you say so. I don’t speak Italian.’

‘Actually, it’s American. It’s named after the guy who invented it.’

Huber shrugged. ‘Anyhow, the cableway operator said the stadium has something for the ski jump that’s parked in their maintenance garage. He called over there, and they’re pulling it round for us. It should be here any minute.’

‘Is it big enough for Kaiser and the cargo?’

‘According to him, yes. But I haven’t seen it yet.’

Jones glanced into the corner of the station. Kaiser was lying on a wooden bench, still being watched over by the French surgeon. ‘How’s your boss?’

‘Doc says he’ll be fine. He keeps waking up, but he’s loopy as all hell. Probably has a concussion or something.’

‘And the crates made it down okay?’

Huber nodded. ‘They didn’t complain at all.’

Jones smiled. ‘It sounds like everything is running smoothly. If it’s okay with you, I’m going to run across the car park and talk to your pilot. Right now we’re missing a chopper.’

‘No problem, sir. Things are under control.’

Krause pulled into the car park and circled it twice, looking for security guards and potential witnesses. According to the digital clock on his car radio, he had completed the trip from Griesen to the ski stadium in a little less than thirty minutes. Not as fast as he had promised Krueger, but not too shabby considering the unexpected traffic on the Bundesstrasse 23.

Thankfully, the helicopter was right where it was supposed to be. Parked on the far side, it sat in the middle of several empty spaces. The pilot, a middle-aged German with a military haircut and dark aviator sunglasses, stood beside the chopper like the cocky owner of a new Corvette. Every once in a while, he took a cloth out of his back pocket and removed a speck of dirt, whether real or imagined, from the side of his shiny toy. Whether the pilot was killing time or trying to impress tourists, his actions reminded Krause of his stint in the German Army. While Krueger and Krause were busting their humps over treacherous terrain, the pretty flyboys used to swoop into town and dazzle all the frauleins in the local beer halls. No matter what he did or said, he simply couldn’t compete with their tales of aerial assault.

To this day, he still harboured a grudge.

Earlier, when Krause had agreed to Krueger’s terms on the phone, he wasn’t sure how he was going to prevent the helicopter from taking off, but one look at that Tom Cruise, Top Gun-wannabe motherfucker sealed the deal. Instead of damaging the chopper, he would damage the pilot, making sure that asshole never flew again.

Smiling to himself, Krause unlocked the stainless-steel case on his passenger seat. Inside was a Beretta 92FS, three magazine clips and a custom-fitted sound suppressor. All five items were packed in soft-cell polyethylene, cut specifically to the dimensions of his gear. With a practised hand, Krause pulled out the handgun, attached the silencer – just like he used to do before bank jobs and home invasions – and inserted a clip.

If all went well, Krause would be back in his car in less than five minutes. After that, he would go home and get drunk in celebration – his debt to Krueger finally paid.

While jogging to the chopper, Jones saw Krause get out of his car but thought nothing of it. No visible weapons. No fidgety behaviour. No hats or masks to conceal his identity. The guy looked normal, like hundreds of other people in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, so Jones ignored him and focused his attention on the pilot. The two of them had spoken briefly on the radio, right after Jones had replaced Collins in the bird’s nest above the bunker.

Jones said, ‘We’ll be coming out shortly. Are you ready to go?’

The pilot nodded. ‘Just say the word, and I’ll start her up.’

‘Wait until you see us coming. The less attention we draw, the better.’

‘Will do.’

‘Where’s the other chopper?’

He shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I flew up Mount Schachen like you told me to, and I spoke to the other pilot. What’s his name – Bobby, Billy … ?’

‘Baptiste,’ Jones said.

‘That’s the guy! Anyway, he said he couldn’t leave until he got permission from Ulster, and he was somewhere inside the house. Everyone’s got a boss, you know?’

‘And?’

The pilot leaned against the chopper. ‘Then he hustled off to get permission. That’s the last time I saw the guy. I wasn’t about to wait for his ass. My boss was down here.’

Jones quickly did some maths in his head. If Payne and Richter, who were big physical specimens, survived the gorge, there was no way everyone could fit in the helicopter. On a short journey, the chopper could seat five. But on a trip across the Alps? Four would be pushing it, considering the size of the men. Right now there were six potential passengers (Payne, Jones, Kaiser, Huber, Richter and the pilot), and that didn’t include the crates or the weapons.

‘We’re screwed without the other chopper. No way we can make it out together.’ Jones explained the numbers, and the pilot agreed with his assessment. ‘As soon as Kaiser comes out, we’ll load him and the cargo and get you out of here. Where are you headed?’

‘To one of his warehouses in Austria. We can arrange medical from there.’

‘Sounds good. I’ll stick around for the two in the gorge. If Baptiste shows up, we’ll take the chopper out. If he doesn’t, we’ll improvise.’

‘What does that mean?’

Jones was about to explain when a glint of movement caught his eye. Glancing at the cockpit window, he spotted a man’s reflection; someone was approaching him from behind. Jones turned at the same moment that Krause pulled out his gun. It had been tucked in the interior pocket of his windbreaker, which had prevented the pilot from seeing it until it was too late.

While Krause raised his Beretta and pulled the trigger, Jones dropped to his knee and fired a single shot from his Sig Sauer. The two bullets, fired at roughly the same time, passed each other in flight. Krause’s shot hit the pilot in the centre of his neck. It tore through his windpipe and spinal cord before it imbedded itself in the side of the chopper. The pilot dropped instantly, skidding down the chopper door, leaving a trail of blood. Krause hit the ground a spilt-second later with a bullet hole through the bridge of his nose.

Although both shots were highly effective, there was a major difference between the two weapons that had fired them. Krause’s gun had a silencer that muffled the sound of his blast, whereas Jones’s gun did not. The unmistakable sound of gun fire rippled across the parking lot and was heard by dozens of tourists. A moment earlier, they had been walking to the ski stadium. Now they were running for cover.

Huber heard the shot from his position outside the cableway. He had just loaded Kaiser into the back of a snowcat, a fully-tracked vehicle that was designed to groom ski trails and haul out injured skiers. It didn’t move very fast, but it could climb a mountain of ice. Another two minutes and the cargo would have been loaded next to him, and he could have been on his way. Unfortunately, the gun blast on the other side of the parking lot had spooked his work force before they could finish the job. The French surgeon ran first, which was understandable since the ambush at the intersection was still fresh in his mind, and was soon followed by the Japanese, who actually took a moment to bow in apology before they sprinted into the station.

Once they were gone, Huber was on the sidewalk alone

Just him and the four crates.

46

In close combat, elite soldiers are taught to check on the enemy before tending to their own. The rationale is simple: threats need to be eliminated as soon as possible to prevent further casualties. With that in mind, Jones kicked the weapon out of Krause’s hand and checked his pulse before he rushed back to the pilot’s side. As he had suspected, both men were dead.

Jones cursed loudly, upset that he hadn’t detected a problem sooner. Then again, there was only so much he could do against a faceless opponent with unknown motives. Spotting soldiers with rifles was one thing, but men with silencers was quite another. Suddenly the game had changed. From this point forward, everyone would be treated as a threat.

‘What happened?’ Huber asked over the radio.

Jones spotted Huber near the cableway station, then replied, ‘Some bastard in a windbreaker just killed your pilot.’

‘The pilot’s dead? What do we do now?’

‘Don’t worry, I can fly this thing. But we need to leave asap.’ Jones scanned the area for police. Because of his gunshot, the clock was ticking. ‘What’s your status?’

‘Our patient’s loaded, but the cargo isn’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘You scared away my volunteers.’

Jones pointed to the enclosed cabin of the snowcat. He could see someone cowering in the front seat. ‘Not everyone. What about your driver?’

‘What driver?’ The answer came to him a moment later. Jones was talking about the guy who had retrieved the snowcat from the ski stadium. ‘Oh shit! I forgot about him. I’m sure he’ll be happy to help – especially if I ask nicely.’

‘Nicely, meanly, whatever it takes. You’ve got two minutes to load that thing.’

‘Yes, sir,’ Huber said.

‘In the meantime, I’ll clean this mess and start the bird. Call me if there’s trouble.’

Even though space was limited, Jones picked up the dead pilot and dumped him inside the chopper. As it was, two of Kaiser’s men (Schneider and Collins) had been left on the mountain because there hadn’t been time to deal with their bodies. They were two major leads for the police to follow. There was no way he was going to leave a third.

Next he searched the pockets of the gunman but found nothing of value. After grabbing the Beretta, Jones dashed to where the guy had parked and snapped a photo of his license plate. If he’d had more time, he would have searched the car for the gunman’s wallet or registration, but he knew a picture on his camera phone would have to suffice.

While heading back to the chopper, Jones heard a garbled transmission on his radio. He answered it immediately, expecting an issue at the cableway. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Leav … will … ortly.’

He turned towards the station and saw Huber loading a crate into the back of the snowcat. Obviously, it wasn’t coming from him. ‘Please repeat.’

‘… the gorge … shortly.’

Jones smiled when he heard the word gorge. It was a message from Payne. ‘You’re breaking up. Please repeat. Over.’

Thirty seconds passed before Payne tried again. This time his transmission was much clearer. ‘We’re leaving … gorge now. We’ll be there shortly.’

‘Glad to hear it. How big is the guest list?’

‘Two.’

‘Stay alert. A civilian just tried to take us out.’

‘Civilians in play. Check.’

‘See ya soon. Over and out.’

Jones opened the door to the cockpit and was about to climb inside when he heard a loud rumble behind him. He turned and spotted the source of the sound. The snowcat with its tank-like tracks was pulling away from the station. Huber was standing in the back with his G36, surveying the car park like a gunner on an armoured fighting vehicle.

Suddenly Bavaria resembled Baghdad. Minus the sand and those pesky terrorists.

Jones added to the tumult by starting the helicopter. The whooshing of the blades and the roar of the turbines fuelled the adrenaline that surged through his body. A few years had passed since he had flown a chopper overseas, and that had been in Italy while trying to evade the Milanese police during his first archaeological mission. Less than twenty-four hours later, he and Payne toured the Ulster Archives for the very first time. Since then, Jones had logged hundreds of hours of flight time at military bases across the US as part of an agreement he had reached with the Pentagon. He used their equipment, and they used him as a consultant.

With the helicopter ready to go, Jones hopped out of the cockpit and greeted Huber at the side door. The driver of the snowcat, a young man in his early twenties, parked the vehicle thirty feet away since he wasn’t sure if it would fit under the chopper blades. Then he climbed out of the cabin and walked to the back without having to be asked or threatened. Either the kid had a huge set of marbles, or he had been scared into submission at the cableway.

Huber leaned close and shouted into Jones’s ear. ‘I heard your transmission. When our friends arrive, we’re gonna be too heavy.’

Jones shouted back. ‘That’s not your problem. Load the chopper.’

Huber nodded and hustled to get Kaiser.

Jones could see Payne and Richter in the distance. They were hoofing it across a small courtyard that led to the Olympic ski stadium. By Jones’s calculations, their journey had covered approximately two miles over harsh terrain. After all that running, they deserved a lounge chair and a bottle of water, not a dose of bad news. Unfortunately, that’s what Jones would greet them with. Because of weight restrictions, there wasn’t room for them on the chopper. Even if they dumped the pilot, one of them would be left behind. Originally, Jones had planned to stick around with Payne, but that was no longer possible because of the pilot’s death.

Payne and Richter were out of breath when they reached the chopper. While gasping for air, Payne pointed to Krause, who was crumpled in a puddle of blood. ‘What happened?’

Jones answered. ‘He killed the pilot, so I took him out.’

‘Fair enough. Where’s Petr?’

‘Don’t know. He never came back from Schachen.’

‘Did you try his radio?’

‘He doesn’t have one.’

Payne shook his head. ‘I meant chopper to chopper.’

‘Didn’t want to risk it. Too many ears.’

‘What’s our status?’

‘Bird’s ready to fly, but we’re too heavy.’

‘By how much?’

‘Two men.’

He took it in stride. ‘You flying?’

Jones shrugged. ‘I’m the only one who can.’

Payne nodded and pointed at Huber, who was loading the last crate into the chopper. ‘How’s your guard? Is he any good?’

‘Yeah, why?’

‘If you’re making me walk, we need to trade. I get Huber, you get Richter.’

‘Why?’

‘Long story. I’ll tell you later.’

‘Hold up! Is there something I should know?’

Payne nodded. ‘Keep Richter away from witnesses.’

Jones waved Huber over to explain the situation. Suddenly the downdraught around them increased, as did the roar of the turbines. Worried that something was wrong, Jones turned towards the cockpit and spotted the culprit fifty feet away. The extra wind and noise were coming from Ulster’s helicopter, which was hovering nearby and preparing to land. The sound of its approach had been masked completely until it was almost on top of them.

Payne smiled when he saw the chopper. His escape just got a whole lot easier. ‘Where are we headed?’

Jones answered. ‘Some warehouse in Austria. Huber knows where.’

‘Then try to keep up.’

‘Not a problem.’

Payne patted Huber on his shoulder. ‘You’re with me. Richter stays with Kaiser.’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Is everything loaded?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘Then follow me.’

Payne led the way to the other chopper where they were met by Ulster. As bubbly as ever, he greeted each of them with a hearty handshake.

‘What took you so long?’ Payne asked.

Ulster apologized. ‘Sorry about the delay. We ran into a small problem.’

Payne slammed the hatch shut, then collapsed into one of the leather seats where he planned on snoozing until they got to Austria. Compared to the belly of Kaiser’s chopper, they would be flying in style. ‘A problem? What kind of problem?’

Before he could answer, Heidi waved at Payne from the front seat. ‘Hey, Jon.’

Ulster smiled sheepishly. ‘A female problem.’

47

Even though Payne had enjoyed chatting with Heidi at the King’s House on Schachen, he was noticeably upset by her presence in the chopper.

He growled at Ulster. ‘What in the hell is she doing here?’

Ulster lowered his eyes in shame. ‘I’m sorry, Jonathon. I had no choice.’

‘Of course you had a choice! You could have left her on the mountain.’

Heidi spoke up. ‘Actually, no he couldn’t.’

Payne glared at her. ‘Am I talking to you?’

Heidi glared back. ‘Well, you are now, which is how it should have been all along. If you’re mad at me, yell at me. Don’t take it out on Petr.’

Ulster shrugged but said nothing.

Payne lowered his voice to a whisper. ‘Petr, what is she doing here?’

Heidi heard the question and yelled over Ulster’s shoulder. ‘You’re doing it again! Talk to me, Jon. Not Petr.’

Payne gently pushed Ulster back into his seat and focused his attention on Heidi. ‘Fine! I’ll talk to you directly since you’re not giving me any other choice. Why in the hell are you on this chopper?’

‘Why? Because I figured out what you’re doing.’

‘Really? And what the hell is that?’

She smirked. ‘You’re looking for the black swan treasure.’

Payne took a deep breath and leaned back in his seat. After staying silent for a few seconds, he turned towards Huber, who was sitting next to him. Both of them were covered in blood and grime after spending the last hour fighting for their lives. ‘Can you believe this shit? She’s yelling at me after everything we just went through. This is why I’m not married.’

Huber shook his head. ‘Typical woman.’

Heidi reacted instantly. The comment upset her so much she nearly jumped out of the front seat to get in Huber’s face. The only things that kept her in place were her shoulder harness and the reprimand from the pilot, who was trying to fly the chopper out of the valley.

Huber laughed at her behaviour. ‘The defence rests.’

She twisted in her seat and pointed at Huber. ‘I don’t like you.’

Huber shrugged and closed his eyes. ‘The feeling’s mutual.’

Then she pointed at Payne. ‘And I expected more from you.’

He pointed at himself. ‘You expected more from me? What the hell does that mean?’

‘You were so nice and sweet up at the house. Now you’re acting like a jerk.’

Payne took another deep breath, trying to calm the anger that was bubbling inside. Adrenaline from the battlefield was still flowing through his veins, making it difficult to control his emotions. It was one of the reasons the US military had instituted a cool-down period before missions were debriefed. ‘Listen, I don’t know what you said or did to con your way onto this chopper, but you don’t know jack shit about what we’re doing.’

‘Sure, I do!’ she snapped. ‘You’re looking for a treasure, just like the one you found in Greece. Trust me, Jon, I know all about you, David and Petr. I know everything.’

For Payne, that was the final straw. He simply couldn’t take any more of her chirping. So he leapt out of his seat, pushed his way past Ulster who was sitting in the middle row, and knelt in the aisle behind Heidi. From his position on the floor, he pointed at the blood on the front of his shirt. ‘You think you know everything, huh? Do you know about Collins? He was minding his own business, driving our ATV through the woods, when a gunman shot him in the side of the head. The bullet ploughed through his skull and brain, killing him instantly.’

She gulped at the description.

He pointed at a different stain. ‘Then there was Lange. Do you know about Lange? Ten seconds after Collins died, Lange was killed by automatic fire from an assault rifle. Hit him right in the throat. Good soldier, that Lange. He lost his life while trying to save ours.’

‘Hooah!’ Huber said from the back.

‘Then there was Schneider. Do you know what happened to Schneider? I’m going to guess you don’t because I don’t even know what happened to Schneider. One minute he was calling in a status report, the next he wasn’t. Just like that, his radio went silent. Of course, we’re assuming he’s dead because his weapon was the one that killed Lange!’

Her face turned ashen as horror filled her eyes. ‘Why are you telling me this?’

‘Why? Because you think this is a game. You think we’re looking for a treasure! We’re not looking for a fucking treasure. We’re trying to leave Germany before someone else gets killed. And guess what? Since you managed to talk your way onto the escape chopper, you’re coming with us – whether you want to or not.’

She nodded but said nothing.

Payne was about to return to his seat when he thought of one final thing to say. When he spoke, his voice was much calmer than a moment before. ‘So, you want to know why I’m angry and acting like a jerk? It’s not because I hate you. It’s because you talked your way into something that you know nothing about. Now your life is in danger like the rest of us. I wish that wasn’t the case – I truly do. But those are the cards we’ve been dealt, and we have no choice but to play them.’

She grimaced at the poker analogy. Somehow it seemed fitting.

He pointed towards the rear of the chopper. ‘Now, unless you have something else to say, I’m going back there to decompress. After the morning I’ve had, I’m pretty sure I’ve earned it.’

When Payne opened his eyes, the chopper was on the ground somewhere in Austria. He didn’t know where and didn’t really care as long as they were safe. Glancing out of the open hatch, he saw Jones standing in the middle of a spacious hangar. Crates filled a third of the place while the rest of it was empty. From the looks of things, they were in one of Kaiser’s storage facilities.

Payne stood, stretched and felt like a new man. Although the loss of life had taken an emotional toll, it was the two-mile sprint that had wiped him out.

Jones saw him and approached. ‘Look who’s back from the dead.’

‘How long was I out?’

‘Unfortunately, you missed Christmas.’

‘Did you get me something nice?’

‘A sweater made from reindeer fur. You’ll love it!’

Payne smiled. ‘How’s Kaiser doing?’

‘He’s okay. He’s on his way to some private medical facility that’s on retainer. Huber and Richter just left. They pulled out about five minutes ago.’

‘Why didn’t you wake me?’

Jones laughed. ‘Why? Because I heard you had a hissy fit on the way here. Petr thought it might be best if we let you rest.’

Payne shook his head. ‘Give me a break. I didn’t have a hissy fit. I gave an impassioned account of our current status. No more, no less.’

‘Like I said, a hissy fit!’

‘Whatever.’

Jones patted him on the back. ‘I have to admit, I was kind of surprised when I saw Heidi. That’s a curveball I didn’t expect.’

‘The question is, what do we do with her?’

Jones made sure no one else was listening. ‘I’ll tell you what I’d like to do to her. That girl is gorgeous!’

‘For the record, I said with her. I didn’t say to her.’

‘With her, to her, in her, behind her – they’re all prepositions. As long as she’s having fun, what’s the difference?’

Payne rolled his eyes. ‘Before you run to the store to buy whipped cream, don’t you think we should clean up our mess first?’

‘I thought I did that when I torched the bunker.’

‘Did you wipe down the ATV?’

Jones shook his head. ‘Nope.’

‘What about that guy you shot?

‘Which guy?’

‘The one in the car park.’

‘What about him?’

‘Did you get the slug from his head?’

‘Nope. Not enough time.’

‘Which gun did you use?’

Jones grimaced. ‘My Sig.’

‘Like I said, we’ve got a mess to clean up.’

‘I guess you’re right. What did you have in mind?’

Payne smiled. ‘Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.’

48

Kaiser’s Warehouse

Innsbruck, Austria

After punching in the code to unlock his encrypted cell phone, Payne entered the phone number from memory. In his line of work, contact lists could get people killed.

His friend answered on the third ring. ‘This is Dial.’

‘Hey, Nick, it’s Jonathon Payne.’

Nick Dial leaned back in his office chair and grinned. He hadn’t spoken to Payne in almost a month, which was normal for them since their hectic schedules got in the way of their friendship. Born in America but stationed in France, Dial ran the homicide division at Interpol, the largest international crime-fighting organization in the world. His job was to coordinate the flow of information between police departments any time a murder investigation crossed national boundaries. All told he was in charge of 186 member countries, filled with billions of people and hundreds of languages.

Dial asked, ‘Are you calling to give me shit about your party?’

Payne laughed. Every year he sent Dial an invitation to his end of summer boat party, even though he knew Dial wouldn’t be able to attend. The journey to Pittsburgh was a tad too long. ‘Come on, Nick. When was the last time I gave you shit about anything?’

‘Let me think. When was the last time we talked?’

‘Touche.’

Dial smiled at his word choice. ‘Finally, a French word I can understand! I swear, I’d like this country a whole lot better if everyone spoke English.’

‘Hold up. You live in France and can’t speak French?’

‘I can speak it just fine. I simply prefer English.’

‘What about German? Can you speak German?’

‘My German is okay, but not great. Why do you ask?’

‘Because DJ and I are headed to Oktoberfest.’

‘Really? Wow, you two party a lot. When are you going?’

‘We left Pittsburgh yesterday. We should be in Munich by the end of the week.’

Dial pondered the timeline. Something didn’t add up. ‘Please tell me you’re not going by boat. If so, I’ve got some horrible news. Germany is not on the water.’

Payne played along. ‘Are you positive? My instructors at the Naval Academy assured me it was. If you’re right about this, the Pentagon has several invasion plans they have to change.’

Dial laughed. ‘Glad I could help.’

‘Speaking of help, something big has come up. Do you have a few minutes to talk?’

‘Of course. How sensitive is the information?’

‘Very.’

‘In that case, let me call you from a secure line. Give me two minutes.’

‘Thanks, Nick. I appreciate it.’

Payne hung up, dreading the conversation he was about to have. Over the years, Dial had tied up a lot of loose ends for Payne and Jones. Not because they were his friends or because they had saved his life in Greece while he was investigating the deaths of several monks – although those things didn’t hurt. He did it because they were highly trained soldiers whose adventures often got them into sticky situations. They weren’t afraid to get their hands dirty, and he was more than willing to clean up their mess. In fact, Dial had told them on multiple occasions that he wished he had the freedom to do the same thing as them, dispensing justice around the globe.

Regrettably, he spent most of his time in the office, not in the field.

One of the biggest misconceptions about Interpol was their role in stopping crime. They seldom sent agents to investigate a case. Instead, they used local offices called National Central Bureaus in the member countries. The NCBs monitored their territory and reported pertinent information to Interpol’s headquarters in Lyon, France. From there, facts were entered into a central database that could be accessed via Interpol’s computer network.

But sometimes that wasn’t enough. Sometimes the head of a division (Drugs, Counterfeiting, Terrorism, etc.) was forced to take control of a case, possibly to cut through red tape, or to handle a border dispute, or to deal with the international media. All the things that Dial hated to do. In his line of work, the only thing that mattered to him was justice – righting a wrong in the fairest way possible. That was the creed he had lived by when he was an investigator, and it was the creed he followed in his head position at Interpol.

Unfortunately, Payne realized the mess in Bavaria was different to anything he had faced in recent years. Not because he and Jones had done anything wrong – after all, they had been attacked by gunmen and had simply fought back – but unlike previous cases, one of their allies was a well-known criminal whose involvement would put Dial in a difficult spot.

The question was: how would Dial react?

Payne sat on one of the wooden crates, trying to figure out what he could and couldn’t say. His goal was to tell the truth about everything while omitting a few details. He wanted Dial to know what had happened in Bavaria without telling him too much about the bunker. Whether or not he could pull that off remained to be seen. It would depend on Dial’s mood.

When his phone rang a few minutes later, the ringtone was no longer the Menudo song it had been in Pittsburgh. It had been replaced by a popular children’s song called ‘Little Bunny Foo Foo’, sung by a nursery school teacher who sounded a lot like Angela Lansbury.

Little bunny Foo Foo

Hopping through the forest

Scooping up the field mice

And boppin’ them on the head.

Payne growled softly. When he found out who was messing with his phone, he was going to bop them on the head – with the butt of a rifle.

‘Fucking ringtones,’ mumbled Payne as he answered.

‘Ringtones? You made me call you on a secure line to talk about ringtones? I thought this was important.’

‘Sorry, Nick, it’s been a long day. DJ and I are lucky to be alive.’

‘What happened this time?’

Payne explained. ‘One of my contacts informed me about a possible discovery in the mountains of Germany, one with significant historical value. I notified Petr Ulster, who met us at the site early this morning. About three hours later, we were attacked by a hit squad.’

‘A hit squad?’

‘Multiple gunmen, multiple weapons, no conversation. They simply opened fire.’

‘Was anybody killed?’

‘Some of mine, all of theirs.’

Dial groaned. ‘I’m assuming you’re okay. What about DJ and Petr?’

‘Both of them are fine.’

‘Where did this happen?’

‘A town called Garmisch-Partenkirchen. It’s near the Austrian border.’

Dial nodded. ‘I’m familiar with it.’

‘They attacked us in the woods, about halfway up the mountain. After that, the battle spread all over the valley. It ended in town near the Olympic ski stadium. A man killed our chopper pilot as we were attempting to leave. We had no choice but to defend ourselves.’

‘Where are you now?’

‘Not there.’

Dial read between the lines. For some reason, Payne didn’t want to answer. ‘Give me some numbers. How many suspects?’

‘Six, possibly more. Like I said, the battle spread.’

‘Six confirmed dead?’

‘Six of theirs, three of ours.’

‘But they ambushed you?’

Payne shrugged. ‘They struck first. We struck back.’

Dial took notes, using a cryptic style of shorthand that only he could understand. ‘Who were these guys? Any ideas?’

‘I can send you their names and addresses.’

‘Excuse me?’

‘What can I say? The mountains are huge and filled with wolves. You’ll be lucky to find the bodies. We had some time, so we grabbed their IDs. We figured it would help your cause.’

‘And yours.’

Payne smiled. ‘The thought had crossed my mind.’

‘What about motivation? Did that cross your mind?’

‘As a matter of fact, it did. Unfortunately, that’s where things get messy.’

Dial sighed. ‘Let me see if I got this straight: nine bodies scattered across a mountain isn’t messy, but their motivation is. Do I even want to know?’

‘Trust me, I’d prefer not to tell you because I’m not quite sure how you’re going to react to it. But this is something you need to hear.’

49

Payne tried to ease the sting of the information about Kaiser by framing it in the best possible way. ‘Back when DJ and I were in the military, we had contacts around the globe – people who gave us intelligence or sold us supplies when we were behind enemy lines. Some of them were the scum of the earth – the kind of guys who made your skin crawl – but some of them were pretty solid. Over the years, a few of them even became our friends.’

‘Where are you going with this?’

‘One of those friends is the person who notified us about the possible discovery. He knew we had contacts in the world of antiquities and asked us to contact Petr on his behalf. After weighing the pros and cons, we decided to get involved despite his recent ventures.’

Dial connected the dots. ‘In other words, he’s a criminal.’

‘Yes.’

‘And you think the ambush has to do with him?’

‘I know it does. One of the gunmen told me.’

‘He told you? Do I even want to know how you obtained this information?’

‘Probably not.’

‘Yeah, you’re right.’

Payne smiled. So far the conversation had gone better than he had expected. Then again, he still hadn’t mentioned the name of his contact. ‘Here’s where things get tricky. The gunman gave me the name of his boss. Apparently he has a major vendetta against my friend. I don’t know the specifics, but it sounds like these two are bitter rivals.’

‘Why don’t you ask your friend?’

‘I can’t. He was seriously hurt during the ambush.’

‘I’m sorry to hear that.’

‘Really?’

‘Yes, really. You might find this hard to believe, but I’ve befriended a few criminals during my lifetime as well. Back when I was in the Bureau, I had a weekly dinner with this mid-level Mafioso. He gave me info about his rivals while I gorged myself with the best pasta I ever ate in my life. After a while, a bond was forged – even though I knew what he did for a living.’

‘Then you know how it goes.’

‘Yes, I do. And yet, if I had seen him shoot a man, I would have arrested him. In my mind, there are certain lines that can’t be crossed.’

‘In that case, I’m glad you didn’t see me shoot anyone.’

Dial smiled. ‘Let me ask you a question: what’s the reason for your call? Clearly, you’re telling me all of this for a reason. I’d love to know what it is.’

‘One of my friends was attacked, and three of his colleagues were killed in cold blood. I want to see the men responsible brought to justice.’

‘It sounds like you handled that already.’

‘As far as I know, the boss wasn’t there. He’s the one I really want.’

Dial gave the situation some thought. ‘Okay, Jon, here’s the problem. If you want me to go after the boss, you have to give me his name. After that, I’ll track down his associates and rivals, which will lead me to the name of your friend. Is that something he really wants?’

‘Trust me, he’s already on your radar.’

‘Really? So he’s a big fish?’

‘You could say that.’

‘And his rival?’

‘He’s a big fish, too.’

‘Interesting.’

‘Listen,’ Payne said, ‘I didn’t call you to be coy. I’m willing to tell you their names right now – as long as you enter one important fact into your database.’

‘What fact is that?’

‘My friend and colleagues are innocent in this particular shooting. They were attacked, plain and simple. I’ll vouch for it and so will DJ. Of course, we’d appreciate if you kept our names out of it. Just call us undercover assets or something like that.’

‘If the evidence supports it, I’ll gladly-’

‘You’re not hearing me, Nick. There is no evidence. This shooting went down in the middle of the woods. Sure, you might find some shell casings and some bodies, but there’s no way in hell you’re going to figure anything out without my testimony – especially after the fire.’

Dial groaned. ‘What fire?’

Payne fibbed. ‘Those bastards torched the site.’

‘They, what? Why did they do that?’

‘I have no idea. Maybe you should ask them.’

‘I would if they were still alive.’

Payne smiled. It was why he had been willing to stretch the truth. ‘So, what do you think? Our testimony for their names? Personally, I think it’s a pretty sweet deal.’

‘For you.’

‘For everyone. Without my testimony, you won’t have jack.’

‘Yeah, well, that remains to be seen.’

‘I’m telling you, Nick. My friend is innocent in today’s events. He was hit early, and he’s been unconscious ever since. Plus, you’ll love the name of his rival. He’s a serious player in Germany. I’m sure his name will cause some boners in Berlin.’

Dial mulled over his options. If Payne was painting an accurate picture of the crime scene, the name of a suspect would jumpstart the local investigation and would do wonders with the German authorities. Any time multiple people were killed in a tourist town, there was more to worry about than the loss of life. The local economy was also at stake – especially with ski season around the corner.

‘Fine! Give me their names. But if I find out your friend started this bullshit, I’m coming after him. Then I’m coming after you.’

‘Damn, Nick, I just got chills.’

‘I’m serious, Jon.’

‘I’m serious, too. You’re a scary man!’

Dial couldn’t help but laugh. ‘Give me their names before I change my mind.’

‘You got it. The man you’re looking for is Hans Mueller. Have you heard of him?’

Dial nodded. ‘Of course, I’ve heard of him. He’s a major player in the world of smuggling. From what I’ve heard, he’s one sick bastard. If you cross him, you’re pretty much fucked.’

‘Which explains today’s ambush. Like I said, he considers my friend his number-one rival. Apparently, he’s been trying to take him out for a while.’

Dial gave it some thought. ‘Which means your friend is Kaiser.’

Payne grew silent. ‘Damn.’

‘What can I say? I’m good at my job.’

‘Honestly, I’m glad you guessed it. Now I can tell him I didn’t mention his name.’

‘Speaking of names, you promised me the names and addresses of Mueller’s men. Do you have those with you?’

Payne shook his head. ‘DJ has them. I’ll have him snap pictures of their IDs and send them to your office e-mail.’

‘That’s fine, but make it quick. The sooner I have them, the better.’

‘No problem.’

‘Is there anything else? Or can I get the ball rolling?’

‘Actually, there is one more thing. Probably the most important thing of all.’

‘Good Lord, what now?’

Payne laughed. ‘I wanted you to know we’re still planning to go to Oktoberfest. If you can sneak away for a day, we’d love to get together. Believe it or not, DJ said he’s buying.’

Dial smiled at the thought. ‘DJ‘s buying? In that case, I’ll see what I can do.’

50

Payne hung up as he strolled across the warehouse floor. Ulster and Heidi were nowhere to be seen, but Jones greeted him in the middle of the facility.

‘How’d the call go?’ Jones asked.

‘Not bad at all.’

‘Is it my imagination, or did I hear “Little Bunny Foo Foo”?’

Payne snapped at him. ‘Screw you.’

‘Screw me? What did I do?’

‘What do you think you did? Quit messing with my phone.’

Jones was surprised by the accusation. ‘Your phone? When could I have messed with your phone? Would that have been while I was driving the ATV from the ambush, or when I was hauling Kaiser down the mountain? Oh, I know! It was when I was flying the chopper here. Yeah, that’s when I had time to mess with your phone.’

Payne stared at him. It was obvious Jones was telling the truth. ‘Sorry, man, my bad. You’re always messing with my stuff. I just assumed it was you.’

‘Well, it wasn’t me.’

‘In that case, I feel bad about my revenge.’

‘Your revenge? What did you do?’

Payne smiled. ‘I invited Nick to Oktoberfest and told him you were buying.’

Jones shrugged. ‘As far as revenge goes, that was pretty weak – especially since Kaiser’s paying for our trip anyway.’

Payne glanced around the warehouse. ‘Speaking of Kaiser, I think we should clear out of this place as soon as possible. There’s no telling what he’s storing here.’

‘I couldn’t agree more. We’ve already loaded the crates into Petr’s chopper.’

‘All of them?’

Jones nodded. ‘Nothing against Richter and Huber, but I think the gold will be a lot safer at the Archives than it would be here. Besides, I think Petr wants to examine it more closely. He’s hoping it will provide some insight into Ludwig’s treasure.’

‘And Heidi?’

‘I don’t know about Petr, but I’d love to examine her closely.’

Payne rolled his eyes. ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah. You think she’s attractive. How long are you going to keep this up?’

‘With her, I’ll keep it up all night!’

Payne started to walk away. ‘Let me know when you grow up.’

‘Says the man with “Little Bunny Foo Foo” as his ringtone.’

Payne flipped him off and kept walking towards a small office in the back of the facility. He heard voices coming from the room. He assumed they belonged to Heidi and Ulster. The door was partially closed, so Payne knocked on it before he entered.

‘Come in,’ Ulster said.

Heidi was sitting next to him on an upholstered couch that reeked of cigarettes. She had a bottle of water in one hand and a tissue in the other. From her bloodshot eyes and damp cheeks, it was obvious she had been crying, although she tried to cover it up. As soon as she saw Payne, she tucked the tissue into her pocket and wiped her cheeks with her sleeve.

‘Are you all right?’ Payne asked.

‘I will be once I get something off my chest.’

He folded his arms in front of him. ‘Go on.’

‘Sit down, if you’d like.’

‘That’s okay. I’m fine right here.’

She nodded in understanding. If she had been in his position, she probably would have acted in the same way. ‘This is hard for me, Jon. I mean, if you knew anything about me, you would know how tough this is for me to do. I don’t like to admit it, but I come from a long line of ill-tempered, stubborn people. My parents were that way, and so were my grandparents – on both sides of my family. You should hear us during the holidays. Either we’re sulking in silence, or we’re at each other’s throats. There’s no middle ground with my family.’ She glanced at him, but he said nothing. ‘Anyway, as hard as this is for me to say, I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry.’

‘For what?’ he asked.

‘For the way I acted on the chopper. For even being on the chopper. Everything you said was one hundred per cent correct. I can understand why you got so mad.’

He pointed at Ulster. ‘What about Petr?’

‘What about him?’

‘Did you apologize to Petr?’

She nodded. ‘I did. I told him I was sorry for tricking him into bringing me.’

Ulster confirmed it. ‘Her apology was quite eloquent. It moved me to tears.’

‘Me, too,’ she admitted.

Payne pointed at them. ‘You’re back on good terms?’

They looked at each other and nodded.

‘Then I’m good, too.’ Payne turned to leave the office. ‘Chopper’s leaving in five.’

‘Excuse me?’ she blurted as she sprang off the couch.

He turned back and faced her. ‘What’s wrong now?’

‘What do you mean it’s leaving in five?’

‘Did I stutter? The chopper is leaving in five minutes. Please be on it.’

‘Where’s it going?’ she demanded.

‘Switzerland.’

‘Switzerland? I’m not going to Switzerland.’

Payne laughed. ‘Really?’

She folded her arms in front of her chest. ‘Yes, really.’

‘You’re telling me you’d prefer to stay here? By yourself?’

She took a deep breath. ‘Yes.’

Payne laughed louder. ‘You’re such a hypocrite.’

‘A hypocrite? Why am I a hypocrite?’

‘Unless I’m mistaken, didn’t you just apologize for your temper and your stubbornness? Thirty seconds later, you’re back to the same stubborn behaviour.’

‘I’m not being stubborn. I’m being smart. Like you said, I have no business being on your chopper. I figure the sooner I get away from you, the safer I’ll be.’

‘You still don’t get it, do you?’

‘Get what?’

‘What you’re mixed up in?’

‘Apparently not.’

Payne pointed at the couch. ‘Please, sit down.’

‘Why?’

‘Why? Because I’m sick of arguing with you about every little thing. If this is going to work, all of us need to be on the same page. Personally, I’d rather thrash it out now than fight with you all damn day. I just don’t have the energy.’

Heidi nodded and took a seat next to Ulster. ‘Okay.’

Payne pulled up an office chair. ‘Tell me, do you know where you are?’

She shrugged. ‘Somewhere near Innsbruck.’

He made a buzzer sound. ‘Sorry. Wrong answer.’

‘No, it’s not. I recognized the city when we flew in.’

‘Actually, it’s a wrong answer for a completely different reason. It’s a wrong answer because your response could have gotten you killed.’

‘What? What do you mean?’

‘I mean, the man who owns this warehouse would be furious over your response. If his guards had been smart, they would have blindfolded you so you wouldn’t know the location of this place. But they were dumb, so now you’re a threat to his whole organization.’

‘Whose organization?’

‘A man you don’t want to meet. Which is why I can’t leave you here. For the time being, you’re far safer with us than you would be alone – at least until I have a chance to talk to him.’

Ulster nodded. ‘The Archives are protected by a team of armed guards around the clock. In addition, we recently installed a large panic room with enough food and water to last a month. If anyone comes looking for us, we’ll be perfectly safe until November.’

‘Not that we’re expecting trouble,’ Payne assured her. ‘In fact, I just got off the phone with my contact at Interpol. They’re already hunting the man responsible for today’s skirmish. With any luck, they’ll have him in a day or two. After that, everything will be fine.’

‘Then what?’ she demanded.

Prior to falling asleep on the flight to Austria, Payne had given the topic a lot of thought. If the violence in Bavaria had nothing to do with the contents of the bunker and everything to do with the gang war between Kaiser and Mueller, then the odds were pretty good that they could search for the treasure without any additional bloodshed. He’d still keep his guard up until he was back in America, but he figured as long as they stayed away from Garmisch-Partenkirchen, they didn’t have a lot to worry about.

Payne said, ‘If you’re up to it, I thought we could look for Ludwig’s treasure. It would be a shame to stop our search because of a little ambush.’

Her eyes lit up. ‘You mean it?’

‘I don’t see why not. From what Petr says, you’re one of the leading experts in the field. Of course, you’re the one who told him that, so who knows if it’s true?’

She put her hand over her heart. ‘I swear, it’s true!’

‘We’ll find out soon enough. That is, if you’ll be joining us.’

She nodded enthusiastically. ‘Yes, I’ll be joining you.’

‘In that case, you need to promise us something: no more games.’

‘I promise, Jon. No more games.’

Payne stared at her. She seemed sincere. ‘I’m serious, Heidi. If we catch you in a lie or feel you’re manipulating us in any way, you’ll lose our protection. Do you understand what that means?’

She gulped. ‘Yes, I understand.’

Payne smiled. ‘Good. The chopper leaves in five.’

51

Kusendorf, Switzerland

(82 miles south-east of Bern)

The Ulster Archives was nestled against a sturdy outcrop of rock that shielded the wooden fortress from the Alpine winds that roared through the region during winter. Nut-brown timber made up the bulk of the chalet’s framework and blended perfectly with the broad gables and deep overhangs of the roof. Square windows were cut into the front facade at regular intervals and were complemented by a triangular pane that had been carved under the structure’s crown. A large picture window ran vertically through the middle of the chalet, giving people on the main staircase a spectacular view of the Lepontine Alps.

But Petr Ulster ignored the scenery as he trudged down the steps from the document vaults on the upper floors towards his private office. It was a journey he typically made several times a day, moving from room to room, helping researchers from around the world with their pursuit of historical data. Although he didn’t consider himself an expert in any particular field, Ulster had a working knowledge of every significant historical subject from A to Z.

It was a skill set that served him well as curator of the facility.

Expecting to find his freshly showered guests in his office, Ulster was drawn towards the kitchen by the sound of laughter and the smell of newly baked bread. Inside the spacious room, he saw Payne, Jones and Heidi huddled around a plate of meats and cheeses. Standing next to them was Ulster’s private chef, who was slicing a warm loaf while arguing with Jones.

‘That isn’t possible!’ the chef blurted. ‘I don’t believe you for a second.’

Ulster looked at them, confused. ‘What isn’t possible?’

Jones ignored the question. ‘I’m telling you, we jumped out of the helicopter while holding on to salami. We slid over a hundred feet, right into some trees.’

Payne nodded. ‘If you don’t believe us, ask Baptiste. He was flying.’

The chef glanced at Ulster. ‘Sir, is that what happened?’

Ulster shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But it wouldn’t surprise me. When the chopper landed to pick us up, Baptiste had to reel in a very long rope that smelled like fried salami. I thought I was imagining things, but perhaps not.’

Jones laughed while patting Ulster on his belly. ‘Your picnic basket saved some lives. Your stomach should be proud of its sacrifice.’

Ulster grabbed a slice of bread. ‘In that case, I’ll reward it.’

Payne pointed at the food. ‘I hope you don’t mind. We were waiting for you in your office, but we smelled the bread and couldn’t resist. It’s tough to think when you’re hungry.’

Ulster smiled. ‘Why do you think my office is so close to the kitchen?’

Once they had eaten, they went back to Ulster’s office where a research assistant had dropped off several books about Ludwig’s life. All but one were written in German. The lone exception was a coffee-table book with English captions under photographs of Ludwig’s castles, including some taken during their construction.

Payne studied one of the pictures. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see that.’

‘See what?’ Ulster asked from his desk.

‘Pictures of the building site.’

‘Why not?’ Heidi asked as she peered over his shoulder. She instantly recognized the slim towers of Neuschwanstein underneath the scaffolding.

‘When I think of castles, I think of ancient buildings that were built long before the age of photography. Then again, what do I know? We don’t have many castles in America. We’re too young a country to have ancient ruins.’

‘Have you seen photographs of Abraham Lincoln?’ she asked.

Payne nodded. ‘Several.’

She walked around the couch and sat next to him. ‘They started building Neuschwanstein a few years after Lincoln’s death – if that helps you understand the time period.’

‘Actually, it does.’

Heidi tapped the photograph. ‘Ludwig built Neuschwanstein on the site of two medieval castles that had fallen into disrepair. They used explosives to blow up the old remains before they hauled everything away. The very next year they laid the foundation stone of the new castle. The date was the fifth of September 1869.’

Jones glanced at the book from the far end of the couch and noticed the date at the bottom of the page. Wondering if she had seen it or was quoting information from memory, he decided to test her expertise. ‘Who designed the castle?’

She looked at him. ‘An artist named Christian Jank. Believe it or not, he wasn’t a trained architect. He was actually a stage designer for Richard Wagner’s opera Lohengrin. Ludwig was so moved by Jank’s artwork that he commissioned him to create several concepts of a dream castle. Ludwig selected a design he liked, and the two of them worked on it together.’

‘Without an architect? That doesn’t sound safe,’ Jones said.

‘Ludwig eventually hired Eduard Riedel, a German architect who had restored Berg Castle for Maximilian the Second, to make sure the plans were safe. However, Riedel was just the first of many. Over the next few years, a number of architects worked on the plans including Georg von Dollmann and Julius Hofmann.’

‘Why so many architects?’

‘Two reasons,’ she said. ‘One, because Ludwig was a control freak. He changed his mind all the time and every new draft required his personal approval. This was unbelievably frustrating for the architects, especially when Ludwig disappeared for days on one of his journeys. Sometimes construction stopped while they were waiting for his authorization.’

‘What was the other reason?’ Payne asked.

‘The construction took nearly twenty years. That’s a long time to work with a crazy person.’

Jones nodded in agreement. ‘I worked with Jon for less than a decade, and it felt like for ever. Twenty years would have killed me.’

Payne smiled but said nothing.

‘Sadly,’ she added, ‘that’s one of the reasons it took so long to build the castle. Thirty people died during its construction – mostly because Ludwig was so demanding about self-imposed deadlines. Occasionally, when he made urgent changes to the designs, he had as many as three hundred workers at the site working in shifts around the clock. They used to set up oil lamps on the scaffolding so they wouldn’t have to stop at night.’

‘They must have hated him,’ Jones said.

She shook her head. ‘Despite the challenging conditions, the locals loved Ludwig because he was the biggest employer in the region by a wide margin. Without Neuschwanstein, many of the craftsmen would have been out of work. That carried a lot of weight with them.’

Payne glanced at her. ‘If I remember correctly, you said Neuschwanstein means new swan stone in English.’

She stared at him, trying to read the emotions in his eyes. But it was difficult. He was a much better poker player than Ulster. ‘That’s correct.’

‘What else can you tell us about the name?’

‘That depends. What are you keeping from me?’

‘What do you mean?’

She sighed, frustrated. ‘I mean, it’s a simple translation of three German words – neu, schwan and stein. You didn’t need me to tell you that. Petr could have told you the same thing. He speaks German, too.’

‘What’s your point?’ Payne demanded.

‘My point is you asked me about the translation on Schachen. When I explained it to you, your eyes lit up when I mentioned the word swan. Then you huddled with DJ to discuss it when I took Petr inside the house.’

‘And?’

‘And I want to know why. Otherwise, I won’t be much help to your search. Not because I’ll refuse to help you, I simply won’t be able to help.’

Payne glanced around the room. First he looked at Jones, who nodded his approval. Then he looked at Ulster, who enthusiastically did the same. Finally he looked at Heidi, who was staring at him with her light blue eyes. He didn’t know her very well, but he was starting to understand how she had convinced Ulster to talk about Ludwig’s treasure. She was smart, perceptive and very observant. He was glad she was on their side.

Payne asked, ‘Are you familiar with Petr’s grandfather?’

She nodded. ‘I unknowingly quoted him earlier today.’

‘Recently, we discovered some of Conrad’s belongings. In one of his notebooks, he had written some clues that are supposed to lead us to Ludwig’s treasure.’

‘What kind of clues?’ she asked.

‘The first one is a riddle that uses the word swan. That’s why we keep asking you about Neuschwanstein. We thought maybe he hid the treasure there.’

‘I very much doubt it,’ she said.

‘Why’s that?’ Jones asked.

‘Because Ludwig was murdered before the building was finished.’

Ulster questioned her from across the room. ‘Are you sure, my dear? Wasn’t Ludwig staying there on the night of his arrest?’

She nodded. ‘Ludwig lived in the palace for 172 days, but the castle was far from done. Only fourteen rooms were finished before his death. The rest of the building was filled with workers, struggling to complete the project. I doubt he would have hidden a treasure with so many witnesses around.’

Payne agreed with her. ‘You’re probably right.’

Jones cursed. ‘I guess that means we should cross it off our list.’

She stared at them. ‘Before you do, don’t you think you should tell me the riddle? I know you guys don’t fully trust me, but didn’t you say several clues needed to be solved in order to locate the treasure? What’s the harm in telling me the first one? It’s not like I’m going anywhere. I’m stuck on a mountain in the middle of Switzerland.’

Jones glanced at Payne. ‘She has a point.’

Ulster nodded in agreement. ‘I concur.’

Payne pointed at Ulster. ‘Conrad was your grandfather. You should tell her, not me.’

Ulster grinned with satisfaction. He was touched by the gesture. ‘On the surface, the riddle seems fairly straightforward, but we haven’t figured it out yet. We’d love a fresh set of ears.’

‘What’s the riddle?’ she asked.

‘Where would a swan go on his journey home?’

52

Heidi closed her eyes and leaned back on the couch. Wearing a colourful ski sweater she had found in Ulster’s guest closet and her own pair of jeans, she whispered the riddle to herself, trying to decipher its meaning. After several seconds of this, her eyes popped open – only to realize that Payne, Jones and Ulster were staring at her, patiently waiting for her response.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve got nothing.’

Jones mumbled to Payne. ‘Expert, my ass.’

Heidi didn’t hear his comment but quickly amended her statement. ‘Actually, let me take that back. I’ve got nothing definitive. Plenty of possibilities, but nothing definitive.’

‘How many possibilities?’ Ulster asked.

‘At least ten, maybe fifteen.’

‘Fifteen? We came up with less than five.’

She stared at Ulster, who was sitting behind his desk. ‘As you know, Ludwig was fascinated with swans. They were an important part of his life from his childhood to his death. That’s a whole lot of ground to cover. I only wish I had more information so I could narrow it down.’

Payne, Jones and Ulster exchanged a series of glances, much as they had done when they were deciding if Heidi was worthy of the riddle. This immediately got her thinking about their visit to the King’s House and the questions they had asked up there.

‘Just a second,’ she blurted. ‘Up on Mount Schachen, you were asking me about local lakes. Is that because of the riddle, or does that have to do with another clue?’

Jones answered. ‘That had to do with the riddle. We thought maybe there was a special lake there where he watched swans.’

She pointed at them, one at a time, when she spoke. ‘Then what was all that glancing back and forth you just did? I’ve seen those looks before. You’re hiding something.’

Payne looked at her. ‘Will you stop doing that?’

‘Doing what?’

‘Reading our minds. It’s really annoying.’

She smiled. ‘Sorry. In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m stubborn, ill tempered and paranoid. I hit the genetic trifecta.’

Jones leaned forward. ‘Don’t apologize. Your genes look great to me.’

She laughed and blushed slightly.

Jones whispered to Payne. ‘See what I did there? I complimented her genes, but she’s also wearing jeans. That’s what they call repartee.’

‘If that’s the French word for retarded, I agree with you.’

Heidi overheard the comment and snickered quietly. She tried to cover up her laughter by adjusting the band round her hair. A few seconds later, her blonde ponytail was back in place and the grin was off her face.

‘Anyway, where were we?’ Payne asked.

‘I was reading your mind,’ she said.

Payne smiled and nodded. ‘In addition to the riddle, Petr’s grandfather also provided a hint about the treasure’s location. In his journal, he described the hint as a starting point. It might give you the context you’re looking for in order to solve the riddle.’

She looked at Ulster. ‘What’s the hint?’

‘According to my grandfather, Ludwig hid a secret document inside his gartenhaus that would help us find the treasure.’

‘His gartenhaus?’ She pondered the significance of the word. ‘Okay, now it makes sense.’

‘The riddle makes sense?’ Payne asked.

She shook her head. ‘No, the reason you asked me about Ludwig and the Alpengarten auf dem Schachen makes sense. I wondered why you got upset when I told you the botanical garden was opened in the 1900s. Seriously, think of all the time you would have saved if you had just come clean with me from the very beginning.’

Payne countered. ‘Probably less time than you’ve wasted with all your gloating. We get it: you’re perceptive. Now use your ability for good, not evil. Tell us what the riddle means.’

She smiled at Payne, enjoying their banter. They had been going at it since they had met on Schachen, verbally jousting about everything. After a while, she knew something was bound to happen. Either they would get into a huge fight, or they would rip each other’s clothes off. She wasn’t sure which, although she hoped for the latter. It sounded a lot more fun.

‘Let me ask you a question,’ she said.

‘What now?’ Payne grumbled.

She pointed at Ulster. ‘Actually, I was talking to him.’

‘Oh,’ Payne said.

Ulster responded. ‘What is it, my dear?’

‘Your grandfather, he wrote these clues in his journal?’

‘That’s correct.’

‘How was his handwriting?’

‘His handwriting?’ Ulster asked, confused.

‘Was it easy to read, or were some of his words open to interpretation?’

‘For the most part, his penmanship was exquisite. Why do you ask?’

‘I was wondering how certain you were about the word gartenhaus. Could you have misread that particular term?’

The leather-bound journal was sitting on the desk in front of him. Ulster flipped to the appropriate page and studied the word. ‘It says gartenhaus. Clear as day.’

‘That’s disappointing,’ she sighed.

‘Why is that?’ Payne wondered.

‘I was hoping it said something else. If it did, I’d know the answer to the riddle.’

‘Really?’ Jones asked. ‘What word were you hoping for?’

‘Gartenlaube. I wanted it to say gartenlaube.’

‘What does that mean in English?’

She looked at Jones. ‘It means garden arbour.’

‘That’s pretty close to garden house. Could it be that anyway?’

She shrugged. ‘I don’t know. You tell me.’

Payne looked at Ulster, who was searching the pages of the journal for additional clues. ‘Petr, after all the grief I’ve given you over the years about your long-winded stories, I can’t believe I’m about to say this. Earlier today, I think I cut you off a little too early.’

Ulster relished the moment. ‘Oh? Which time was that? Was it when we entered the bunker? Or when we opened the first crate? Or when we were talking about the black swan?’

Payne shook his head. ‘None of those.’

‘Then which instance are you referring to?’

‘When we first landed on Schachen, you started telling DJ and I about the original language of the riddle. We begged you to skip the background information about the journal because we wanted to know the actual riddle. Do you remember that?’

‘I do, indeed.’

Payne continued. ‘I could be wrong, but didn’t you say something about the original version of the riddle being written in an ancient language that needed to be translated?’

‘Actually,’ Ulster said, ‘it wasn’t an ancient language at all. It was merely an older dialect, known as Austro-Bavarian. My grandfather then translated the riddle into Austrian German, which was the language he had spoken prior to moving to Switzerland. Once he took residence here in Kusendorf, he started speaking Italian, which is the unofficial language of the canton of Ticino. Growing up, I found it strange since Kusendorf is such a German-sounding name. However, through some research of my own, I learned that this town was actually founded by a man with Polish ancestry, who had the surname of Kuz-’

‘Petr!’ Payne shouted. ‘This is why we cut you off. Although everything you said about Kusendorf was riveting, it has nothing to do with our current conversation. Don’t you see that?’

Ulster nodded. ‘I do now.’

Payne took a deep breath, trying to remain calm. ‘If it’s okay with you, I’d like to remain focused on your grandfather’s journal.’

‘What about it?’ he asked.

‘When your grandfather translated the riddle, could he have slightly altered the original meaning when he used Austrian-German words?’

Ulster nodded again. ‘It happens all the time – especially with unusual words or highly specific terms. Sometimes there isn’t a perfect word in the new language, so a translator is forced to choose the closest possible replacement.’

Heidi spoke up. ‘Could gartenhaus have been substituted for gartenlaube?’

‘I don’t see why not. Although their definitions are slightly different, their basic structures are remarkably similar, right down to the “au” in the last syllable.’

‘So it’s possible?’

‘Yes, my dear, it’s possible.’

Heidi broke into a wide grin. ‘If that’s the case, I know the answer to the riddle. I know where a swan goes on his journey home.’

53

During the two-hour car ride from his business meetings in Hamburg to his residence in Berlin, Hans Mueller reflected on the early-morning phone call he had received from Max Krueger, a devoted employee who wasn’t known for hyperbole. Krueger had seemed truly excited about the appearance of Petr Ulster in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, yet several hours had passed without an update of any kind. With the day winding down, Mueller was curious.

From the back seat of his custom-built Mercedes limousine, Mueller flipped a switch that lowered the soundproofed partition in front of him. ‘Have you heard from Krueger?’

His eager assistant responded. ‘No, sir, I haven’t. But I assembled the information you requested on the Ulster Archives. Shall I send it to your laptop?’

Mueller nodded. ‘Then give Krueger a call. I’d love to know what’s going on down there. Garmisch isn’t known for excitement – unless you’re a skier.’

The assistant laughed. ‘Yes, sir. I’ll call at once. Would you like to speak to him?’

‘Only if it’s worth my time.’

‘I’ll let you know.’

Mueller nodded and flipped the switch to raise the partition. It was a third of the way up when he heard the deep voice of his muscular chauffeur, a man named Bosch, who spoke approximately once a week. If he had something to say, it was bound to be important. Mueller stared at his driver in the rear-view mirror. ‘What’s wrong?’

Bosch looked back at him. ‘Something happened in Garmisch.’

Mueller lowered the partition. ‘What do you mean?’

‘I was listening to the news while you were in your meeting. There was a shootout in Garmisch.’

‘A shootout? What kind of shootout?’

Bosch looked at him. ‘A bad one.’

‘How bad?’

‘Multiple gunmen, several deaths.’

‘In Garmisch? Are you sure?’

‘I’m certain. Someone was killed at the ski stadium.’

‘And the others?’

‘In the mountains.’

Mueller rubbed his chin in thought. According to Krueger, choppers had been flying in and out of Garmisch-Partenkirchen for the past week and had been landing in a field near the base of Zugspitze. One of the choppers, registered to the Ulster Archives, had arrived there early that morning, and now this? In Mueller’s mind, it couldn’t be a coincidence – not in a town where the last shootout had occurred in World War Two.

His assistant turned around. He was holding an encrypted satellite phone against his ear. ‘Sir, it went straight to voicemail. Shall I leave a message for Krueger?’

Mueller shook his head. ‘No.’

He quickly hung up. ‘Now what, sir?’

‘Who do we know in Garmisch?’

‘Krueger is our lead man. I wouldn’t trust anyone else.’

‘What about the police? Who’s our local contact?’

The assistant tried to come up with a name but couldn’t due to the complex structure of the German police. Every state in Germany was responsible for operating its own force, which was then divided into a number of regional police authorities. The Bavarian State Police, known as the Bayerische Polizei, had ten such subdivisions. Krueger had many contacts within the Polizeiprasidium Munchen, the force that protected the city of Munich, but Krueger’s organization did so little business in Garmisch-Partenkirchen that his assistant wasn’t even sure which regional authority was in charge of that section of Bavaria.

‘I don’t think we have a contact in Garmisch. Do you have a suggestion?’

‘Call Munich. With so many dead, they might get involved.’

‘What about the SEK, sir?’ It was an abbreviation for the Spezialeinsatzkommando, a special response team that handled unusual cases, such as hostage situations and violent crimes. ‘I know they have a unit assigned to the Alps. Perhaps they’re in charge of the mountains.’

Mueller shrugged. He honestly didn’t know. Most of his deals happened in major cities, not in the rugged terrain near the Austrian border. ‘Call whoever you want! Just find out what happened in Garmisch. And track down Krueger. I want to speak to him at once!’

He punctuated his statement by raising the partition, sealing himself off from the commotion that was sure to follow in the front seat. While his assistant tracked down names and made a series of phone calls to their contacts all over Germany, Mueller could focus on the heart of the matter: Who was Petr Ulster, and what was he doing in Garmisch-Partenkirchen?

Although Mueller was familiar with the Ulster name, he didn’t grasp the scope of the Ulster Archives until he viewed the file that had been sent to his laptop. The comprehensive dossier included videos about its history, newspaper articles on its collections and thousands of pictures of its most famous treasures. Mueller had never cared much about art or artefacts, but that changed when he read the estimated value of the archives was more than a billion dollars. In his opinion, there was no way a man of Ulster’s wealth (or weight) would fly to the nether regions of Bavaria to hike up a mountain unless he had found something extraordinary.

The question was, what?

Mueller spent the next fifteen minutes searching the internet, trying to figure out what Ulster could have discovered that would have been worth his time. Historically speaking, there were a few possibilities in that part of Germany. Partenkirchen originated as the Roman town of Parthanum. It had been founded on the trade route from Rome to Augsburg and was first mentioned in AD 257. Its main street, Ludwigstrasse, followed the original Roman road. More than a millennium later, the town flourished as a way station on a trade route to the Orient.

Perhaps he had located an old settlement? Or a ruin from Ancient Rome?

Or maybe something more recent, like relics from Castle Werdenfels?

Built in 1219 by Otto the Second, Count of Andechs, the once mighty castle was now a ruin. Originally intended to guard a local military road, Werdenfels – which means ‘defence of the rock’ – was turned into a palace of horrors when crop failures led to an outburst of witch hysteria. During the sixteenth century, the castle was used to hold, try and execute those accused of witchcraft. Exact numbers aren’t known, but hundreds were supposedly burned at the stake or garrotted. By the mid-1700s, the castle was such an object of superstitious horror that most of it was torn down to prevent devil worship and occult practices.

Then again, things of that nature seemed to be beneath the lofty standards of the Ulster Archives – unless Ulster was trying to impress the Twilight crowd.

While searching for other possibilities, Mueller heard a beep on the car’s intercom system. It meant someone in the front seat wanted to talk. He pushed the button to reply. ‘What is it?’

‘I have news about Krueger.’

Mueller lowered the partition. ‘Yes?’

His assistant spoke. ‘One of our police contacts in Munich just called. So far the authorities in Garmisch-Partenkirchen have identified two of the shooting victims. Neither one was Krueger, but both have significance to us.’

‘In what sense?’

‘One of the men was connected to Krueger.’

‘How so?’

‘He was listed as a known associate.’

‘Part of his local crew?’

The assistant shook his head. ‘They served together in the Tenth Armoured Division. When the victim – his name was Krause – was accused of armed robbery, Krueger gave him an alibi. The cops found it suspicious and noted it in their files.’

‘This Krause, where was he found?’

‘He was shot at the ski stadium.’

‘Not on the mountain?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Any witnesses?’

‘Our contact doesn’t know. He’s still trying to find out.’

Mueller nodded. ‘What about the other victim? Another friend of Krueger’s?’

‘I hope not, sir.’

Mueller glared at him. He wasn’t in the mood for games. ‘What does that mean?’

The assistant gulped. ‘Sorry, sir. As far as we know, he’s not connected to Krueger. The guy’s name was Collins. He was found on a hiking trail above the Partnach Gorge. According to several witnesses, a small caravan of soldiers was ambushed at an intersection. Collins was one of the casualties.’

‘Collins was a soldier?’

‘No, sir. He was a criminal dressed in camouflage.’

‘Camouflage? What was he doing?’

‘I don’t know, sir.’

‘What kind of criminal?’

‘Collins was a hired thug.’

Mueller stroked his chin. ‘But he didn’t work for Krueger?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Can we connect him to Ulster?’

‘No, sir, we can’t. But we can connect him to someone else.’

‘Who?’

‘According to our source, Collins worked for Kaiser.’

Fuelled by a wave of anger, Mueller cursed for the next ten seconds. No one made his blood boil like Kaiser. More than competitors, they were rivals. Bitter, bloodthirsty rivals. In the world of smuggling, Kaiser was the old guard and Mueller was the new. As long as both were alive, neither could feel safe. ‘Collins worked for Kaiser? Was Kaiser there?’

‘I don’t know, sir.’

‘That’s not good enough!’ he shouted. ‘We need to know if Kaiser was there!’

The assistant nodded. ‘Sir, our source is checking. Unfortunately, the local police are overwhelmed at the moment. In addition to the shootout, there was a major fire on one of the mountains. Right now they’re stretched pretty thin.’

‘A fire? What kind of fire? Was it connected to the shootings?’

‘I don’t know, sir. Our source doesn’t know.’

Mueller swore some more, this time in multiple languages. Something major was going on in Garmisch-Partenkirchen, and he was on the outside looking in. Unfortunately, because of the increased police presence in the region, he couldn’t risk a visit himself. Instead, he’d have to work his network of contacts from his office in Berlin to find out what was going on.

If Kaiser and Ulster had a connection, he would find it.

And then he would sever it.

54

Tuesday, 21 September

Linderhof, Germany

(55 miles south-west of Munich)

Linderhof Palace is located six miles west of the village of Ettal, not far from Ettal Abbey, a fourteenth-century Benedictine monastery that used to be a popular pilgrimage stop. From the window of Ulster’s chopper, Payne and Jones could see the abbey’s towering baroque dome in the distance. Covered in dew, it glistened in the early-morning sun.

Following Heidi’s instructions, Baptiste landed the chopper in a large clearing on the east side of the Linderhof grounds. The gates didn’t officially open until 9 a.m., but Heidi had called one of her friends on the security staff, who had given her permission to come an hour early since she had worked there for two years and was employed by the Bavarian Palace Department. The guard greeted her with a hug, then handed her the keys to a four-person golf cart parked nearby. Normally used to ferry elderly people around the spacious grounds, the cart would save them a lot of travel time as they made their way to the north end of the park.

Heidi and Ulster sat in the front seat while Payne and Jones sat in the back. As she drove, she provided some background information on the castle. ‘Ludwig was fascinated by the Palace of Versailles in France and copied many of its interior features, including the main staircase and the master bedroom. The exterior of the castle resembles Petit Trianon, a small chateau in the grounds of Versailles that was given to Marie Antoinette by King Louis XVI.’

She followed a narrow, stone path through a thick grove of trees. When they emerged on the far side, they caught a quick glimpse of the castle, which was built at the bottom of a gently sloping valley. Much smaller than Payne had imagined, the marble building was less than 100 feet in length. It was surrounded by several fountains, including one that shot water over seventy feet in the air. He was about to ask a question about the golden statue in its centre, but before he had a chance, Heidi turned to the right and started driving north.

A moment later, the cart was swallowed by shadows as it entered the mouth of the longest arbour Payne had ever seen. Hundreds of arching metal poles had been planted into the ground, approximately one foot apart on both sides of the steep path. The poles were connected by several horizontal rails, which formed a series of one-foot squares that functioned as a trellis. Over the years, dozens of trees had been trained to grow over the extensive framework. The resulting tunnel – a combination of vines, leaves and branches – shielded them from the sun and blocked their view of water steps on their left that flowed towards the ornate castle behind them.

Ulster admired the vegetation. ‘Is this the gartenlaube you mentioned?’

She nodded. ‘We entered it from the east. It arches all the way up to a music pavilion on top of the hill before it arches back down to the western side of the grounds. When viewed from the palace windows, the arbour looks like a green rainbow on the hillside.’

Payne leaned forward. ‘And what does the arbour have to do with swans?’

‘Nothing,’ she admitted as they reached a fork in the path.

‘Then I’m confused. I thought gartenlaube helped you solve the riddle?’

The arbour continued to arch gently around to the left while an uncovered trail veered off to the right. This new trail went straight up the hill towards the north. She made the turn before she answered his question. ‘It did help me solve the riddle. Back in Ludwig’s time, gartenlaube had multiple meanings. Sometimes it meant garden arbour, which is the literal translation of the term. But in the world of landscaping, it was a generic term for man-made garden. If you think about it, that’s what an arbour is: the trees and trellis were shaped by man.’

‘What’s your point?’ Payne asked.

‘My point is simple,’ she said as she drove up the steep path, ‘there’s more than one man-made garden on the Linderhof grounds. The one we’re going to was Ludwig’s personal favourite. It’s called the Venus Grotto.’

‘Does it have swans?’ Jones wondered.

She smiled as she parked their cart next to a large rock formation that was covered in green moss. ‘The Venus Grotto has everything. I’m sure you’ll be impressed.’

Payne climbed out of his seat and stared at the spacious grounds. The approach of autumn had splashed the trees with a vibrant mix of colours. Everywhere he looked, he saw reds and yellows, oranges and gold, all mixed against a palette of greens. If the Venus Grotto was half as impressive as the leaves around him, he would be pleasantly surprised.

‘Is it much of a hike?’ Payne asked.

She shook her head. ‘Not at all.’

‘Then what are we waiting for?’

‘I wanted to see if you would spot it.’

‘Spot what?’

‘The secret entrance to the grotto.’

He looked at her. ‘The what?’

‘You heard me. The secret entrance to the grotto.’

In unison, Payne, Jones and Ulster turned towards the large mound behind them. Standing twelve feet in height, the rugged formation appeared to be a natural extension of the hillside. Weeds grew from the cracks in the grey rocks. Small trees sprang from the crevices. If they had walked past it, they wouldn’t have given it a second thought. Everything about it looked as though it belonged, as if it had been there since the dawn of time. Naturally curious, Jones tapped one of the moss-covered stones to make sure it was real. Then he tapped another. Payne and Ulster quickly followed suit, each of them hoping to find the entrance first.

Payne called over his shoulder. ‘If you’re messing with us, I’m going to be pissed.’

She laughed at his comment. ‘I swear, I’m not messing with you. There really is a secret entrance to the grotto. In fact, Ludwig designed several secret doors and passageways in his castles – not to mention a number of slick contraptions that catered to his dream world. Believe it or not, some of them were quite brilliant.’

Payne glanced at her. ‘Such as?’

‘When Ludwig was entertaining guests, he didn’t want to be disturbed by servants. He felt they invaded his privacy and ruined the fantasies he was trying to create. Obviously this was a major problem when he was throwing a dinner party for a lot of people. No servants meant no food. So Ludwig designed a special dining room in the Linderhof that met his personal needs. The room featured a full-length table that could be lowered into the kitchen below so his servants could stock the table and raise it back up without being seen.’

Payne smiled. ‘You’ve got to be kidding me.’

‘Trust me, that’s nothing compared to what you’ll see inside the grotto. That is, if you guys can find the way in. I thought one of you was supposed to be a detective?’

Jones, who was a licensed investigator, took the comment as a personal challenge. Less than thirty seconds later, he found a tiny metal handle imbedded in the rock face. Without waiting for Heidi’s permission, Jones yanked on the latch. A soft click could be heard in the centre of the mound, followed by a loud rumble. Suddenly the large boulder in the middle of the formation started to twist to the left. Unsure of what was happening, Jones jumped back and watched as the boulder turned on a centre axis. The left side of the rock went in while the right side swivelled out. Once the rock stopped moving, Jones stared at the resulting fissure. It was seven feet tall and three feet wide. Beyond it, a narrow corridor stretched deep into the darkness.

Jones glanced back at the group. ‘I’m not sure, but I think I found it.’

55

Armed with flashlights, the foursome walked single file into the man-made cave at the northern end of the Linderhof grounds. Heidi led the way, followed by Jones, Ulster and Payne. To ensure their privacy, he closed the door behind them. When the grounds were officially open, the narrow corridor would be awash with floor lights for the safety of the crowds. But that was later. For the moment, nothing was turned on.

‘Watch your heads,’ she called out from the front.

Fake stalactites dangled from the ceiling above as stalagmites rose from the floor, as if the group was passing through a sharp set of teeth. Payne wasn’t sure where they were going or what they were about to see, but he sensed something great was lurking ahead. Outside, he’d had his doubts about this place until that giant boulder had twisted aside like something from a movie. That had changed everything. Suddenly, he felt like a little kid again exploring one of the walk-through rides at Kennywood, an amusement park near Pittsburgh. All that was missing was the taste of cotton candy and the safety of his grandfather’s hand.

‘How old is this place?’ Jones asked in the darkness.

Heidi answered as she opened the grotto’s control panel, which was hidden behind a fake boulder. ‘It was finished in 1877. Workers installed a framework of steel girders and pillars. They covered them with cement, sometimes laid over canvas, then sculpted them into shape.’

Payne shone his flashlight to the far left. At first glance, it looked like the ground was rippling. He assumed it was an optical illusion caused by his light until he heard the dripping of water. ‘What’s out there? Is that a fountain?’

Heidi put her hand on the switch. ‘Nope. Something better.’

‘Like what?’ he wondered.

Instead of answering, she started flipping switches. One by one, lights popped on throughout the grotto. Suddenly, the stalactites and stalagmites were bathed in blue light. Then the ceiling above them turned gold. An instant later, their pathway lit up like a ramp in a movie theatre, followed by a series of recessed lights in a painted alcove. Finally, the ground to the left started to glow – blue at first and then an alien green. It took a few seconds for Payne’s eyes to adjust, but when they did, he was stunned by the sight. The entire time he had been walking in the darkness, he had been strolling beside an underground lake.

His mouth fell open. ‘Wow.’

She turned off her flashlight and walked towards them. ‘I told you it was impressive.’

Ulster nodded in agreement. ‘I’ve seen pictures of the grotto, but I never fully grasped how large it was until now. It is truly immense.’

‘Women have said the same about me,’ cracked Jones.

Heidi ignored him. ‘The Venus Grotto is the largest artificial cave in Europe. Everything you see in here – the rocks, the ceiling, everything – was made by man. The cave is 270 feet long and forty-two feet high. By comparison, the palace itself is only ninety-eight feet long.’

Payne stared at the lake. At first, he had assumed it was shallow like the Pirates of the Caribbean ride at Disney World, but the longer he stared at the underwater lights, he could tell they weren’t close to the surface. ‘How deep is the water?’

‘In some places, it’s ten feet deep.’

Jones leaned against the safety railing that had been installed for tourists. He was struggling to comprehend the grotto’s technology. ‘They built this place in the nineteenth century? When did they add the lights?’

‘Believe it or not, they’ve been here since the grotto opened in 1877. Obviously we’ve upgraded the technology over the years and made some repairs, but the basic look is the same. What you see is what Ludwig saw when he lived in Linderhof.’

Payne shook his head in amazement. ‘I didn’t even know they had indoor electricity back then. I find it hard to believe they were able to do all this in the 1800s.’

‘Back then, they used arc lamps – bulbs made of charcoal rods that had been invented fifty years earlier – to light the grotto. To change the colour of the lights, they rotated a disk of coloured glass and shone the bulbs through it. Sort of like a slide projector. Ludwig was actually able to programme a sequence of lights – five sets of ten minutes each – in the order he wanted. In addition, he could shine the colours in unison, which projected a rainbow above the far alcove.’

‘How was it powered?’ Jones asked.

‘They used a primitive electromagnetic generator known as a dynamo. There were twenty-four of them in a machine shop about a hundred metres to the north. The power facility was one of the first of its kind in Europe.’

Payne whistled softly. ‘I’ll admit it, I’m impressed. This place is awesome.’

She signalled for them to wait. ‘Hang on, I’m not quite done.’

‘There’s more?’ Jones asked.

She ducked behind the fake boulder. ‘Much more. Check this out.’

With a flip of a switch, the water in the lake began to move. Slowly at first, and then more steadily. Before long, the entire lake was churning with waves. ‘Sometimes Ludwig wasn’t satisfied with calm waters, so his designers installed a wave machine. This way, when his servants rowed him around the lake, he felt he was facing the elements.’

Payne laughed in amazement. ‘Un-friggin-believable!’

She called out from the control panel. ‘I thought you’d like that, but believe me, the best part is yet to come. If you don’t mind, do me a favour and take a few steps forward on the path. I want you to have the best view for the finale.’

Payne moved forward until she was satisfied.

‘Okay, that’s perfect! Prepare to be shocked.’

He glanced round the grotto, wondering what was going to happen next. All of a sudden, he heard a soft rumble coming from the walls themselves. He glanced up and spotted a large opening in the rock face above him. The outer surface of the hole was glowing red while the interior was light blue. Over the years, Payne had been involved in enough practical jokes to sense when one was being pulled on him. Luckily, he stepped aside a split-second before water came roaring out of the spout, or else he would have been drenched by Ludwig’s waterfall.

‘Shoot!’ she yelled from her position behind the boulder. ‘I almost got you!’

He stuck his hand into the water, imagining how cold it would have felt on his back. ‘You’re lucky you didn’t. Otherwise, you would have gone for a little swim.’

She laughed as she headed his way. ‘That’s not nice.’

‘Neither is luring someone under Niagara Falls.’

She playfully punched his arm. ‘Oh, please! You can hear the water coming from a mile away. I didn’t think it would actually get you.’

He stared at her. ‘But you were hoping it did.’

She giggled softly. ‘Maybe.’

Jones listened to their banter and rolled his eyes. He didn’t have the tolerance to listen to their flirting. ‘Sorry to bust up your honeymoon, but didn’t you say something about swans?’

‘Swans?’ she asked.

‘You know, the riddle. The reason we’re here.’

‘The riddle!’ she exclaimed. ‘Yes, of course, how silly of me! It’s been a while since I’ve given a tour through the grotto. I guess I got caught up in the excitement.’

Payne reassured her with a smile. ‘Don’t worry about it.’

Heidi took a moment to gather her thoughts, then pointed at a golden cockleshell boat that was near a colourful mural which had been painted in a large alcove at the far end of the lake. The mural depicted a scene from Richard Wagner’s opera Tannhauser, one of Ludwig’s favourites, and looked as though it belonged in a museum, not an artificial cave. As the group walked closer to the painting, Heidi hustled over to the control panel and turned off the wave machine. Although it was an impressive special effect, it was rarely used during regular tours because the ‘fake’ waves eroded the artificial environment like ‘real’ waves on a beach. Then she turned off the waterfall, so they wouldn’t have to shout above the roaring water.

‘How much do you know about Lohengrin?’ she asked.

Ulster answered for the group. ‘I know enough to fill a notebook, whereas they know the basics. I filled them in only yesterday.’

Payne glanced at him. ‘You did? You better refresh my memory.’

Ulster nodded. ‘Lohengrin was the son of Percival, one of the Knights of the Round Table. He was sent to rescue a maiden in a far off land. Wagner wrote an opera about him.’

Payne had a blank look on his face. ‘Go on.’

‘He made the journey in a cockleshell boat pulled by a magical swan.’

Jones laughed at the description. ‘I remember that! Ludwig used to dress up in his costume and prance around the halls of his castle.’

Payne finally remembered. ‘The Swan Knight.’

‘Yes!’ Ulster exclaimed. ‘Ludwig was obsessed with him, which is why Ludwig is often called the Swan King. If you remember, Ludwig even sealed his mysterious correspondence with a black swan. Hence, the black swan letters.’

Jones grinned. ‘Ludwig going rogue.’

‘Actually,’ Heidi said, ‘if you believe the rumours, that’s exactly what Ludwig did. He went rogue. Having bankrupted his personal fortune building places like this, he was forced to turn to outside sources to maintain his standard of living. The money he collected would have been the source of his mythical treasure.’

Payne nodded. ‘Which leads us to the riddle.’

Heidi pointed at the elaborate boat. It was elevated just above the waterline by a discreet metal stand to keep it in good shape. Painted gold and shaped like a giant cockleshell, the boat featured carved fish near its base, wooden doves attached to the back of the shell and several strings of dried flowers draped from its edges. Inside was a small padded bench and a single back pillow covered in red velvet. Two wooden oars were affixed to their stands.

She asked, ‘What’s wrong with this boat?’

‘Too many things to name,’ Jones cracked.

‘I meant in terms of Ludwig.’

Jones smiled. ‘In that case, not much. It fits him perfectly.’

‘I would agree with you, except for one tiny detail. Do you see it?’

Payne, Jones, and Ulster stared at the antique boat, trying to figure out what she was alluding to. At first glance, the boat seemed to fit Ludwig’s lifestyle. It was ornate, whimsical and somehow innocent – like something out of a child’s dream. Even the carved figurehead, a naked cupid shooting his bow, seemed appropriate for a man of his ilk.

Sensing their confusion, Heidi gave them a hint to speed up their search. ‘Think about the boat in terms of the riddle. Where would a swan go on his journey home?’

A few seconds later, Payne figured it out.

56

Payne grinned with pride when he solved the riddle. ‘That’s really clever.’

‘What’s really clever?’ Jones asked.

‘The riddle. We were thinking about it all wrong.’

‘Wait! You figured it out?’

Payne nodded. ‘Yep, I figured it out.’

Jones turned towards him. ‘Well?’

‘Well, what? Figure it out for yourself.’

Jones shook his head. ‘You’re so full of shit! You don’t know the answer.’

Payne raised his right hand. ‘I swear to Ludwig, I figured it out. Like I said, we were thinking about it all wrong.’

‘In what sense?’ Ulster asked.

‘The swan isn’t the one going home. So stop thinking about nests and lakes. Think about it from a different perspective.’

Heidi nodded her approval. Until that moment, she wasn’t sure if Payne had actually worked it out. ‘Jon’s right. The “his” in the riddle does not refer to the swan. Someone else is making the journey. Focus on the words. Where would a swan go on his journey home?’

Jones was getting more and more confused by their clues. ‘Wait! What are you talking about? Who’s making the damn journey?’

Ulster broke into a wide grin. Thanks to Heidi’s hint, he had solved the riddle. ‘Lohengrin! Lohengrin is making the journey!’

Jones grimaced at the clue. ‘You mean the Swan Knight? How in the hell am I supposed to know where he’s going? I’m not a travel agent!’

Payne laughed at Jones’s frustration since he was always bragging about how much smarter he was than Payne. ‘You don’t have to know where the knight is going. That doesn’t matter. The question is, where would the swan go on the knight’s journey?’

‘Don’t ask me. I’d never take a bird on a fucking trip.’

Payne and Ulster laughed so loudly tears formed in their eyes.

Meanwhile, Heidi managed to bite her tongue and stifle her laughter. Feeling bad for Jones, she put her hands on his shoulders and gently turned him towards the boat. While standing next to him, she simplified the riddle so he could solve it. ‘Lohengrin used to travel in a cockleshell boat pulled by a swan. In that scenario, where would the swan go?’

Jones shrugged. ‘In the front?’

‘Exactly! The swan would go in the front, or else it couldn’t pull the boat.’

Jones, who was doing his best to ignore Payne and Ulster, pointed at the boat. ‘But I don’t see a swan. I see a fat-ass cupid.’

She nodded. ‘Which is the problem I mentioned earlier. Why would Ludwig build an exact replica of the Swan Knight’s boat in his private grotto but omit the most important part? He wouldn’t – unless the added feature was more important than a swan.’

Suddenly excited, Jones turned towards Payne and smacked him in the back of the head. ‘Are you listening to this?’

Payne’s laughter stopped immediately. ‘Listening to what?’

‘I figured the riddle out yesterday, and you guys made fun of me.’

Payne stared at him. ‘What are you talking about?’

Jones refreshed their memories. ‘Petr said Ludwig had hidden the secret document in his gartenhaus, and I said I had done the same thing while crossing the Afghan border. Remember?’

Payne nodded. ‘What’s your point?’

Always the showman, Jones used his hands to explain the process. ‘According to Heidi, Ludwig took his secret document and stuffed it right up cupid’s gartenhaus. Probably did it in the dark while listening to opera.’

She blushed at his description. ‘I never said that.’

‘That’s because you’re a lady. But that’s what you meant, right?’

‘Not at all! I simply think the document is inside the cherub.’

‘Yeah,’ Jones said, still pleading his case, ‘which is what I said yesterday. The secret document is inside the cupid’s – wink, wink – cherub.’

Payne rolled his eyes at Jones’s antics. His friend would do just about anything to avoid being wrong. ‘As far as I’m concerned, I don’t care who solved the riddle. The only thing that matters is what happens next. How do we retrieve the document?’

Ulster made a suggestion. ‘Why don’t we pull the boat over and examine it from shore?’

Heidi shook her head. ‘We can’t. It’s on a metal stand to keep it from rotting.’

Ulster squatted and stared at the lake. For the first time, he realized the boat was being held just above the surface of the water. ‘Now I feel foolish. I didn’t even notice the stand.’

‘No one does,’ she admitted.

Payne studied the lake. ‘How deep is the water out there?’

‘Thigh-high at most. Back in Ludwig’s day, he used to invite opera singers to perform on this side of the grotto. Once they arrived, he made them sing while standing in the water.’

‘Why is that?’ Ulster wondered.

She pointed to the alcove at the far end of the lake. It depicted a scene from one of Wagner’s operas. ‘He used the mural as their backdrop. It helped set the mood for their performance.’

Ulster chuckled. ‘He really was an interesting chap.’

‘Wasn’t he? I’ve been a fan of his for a very long time.’

Payne cleared his throat to get their attention. ‘As far as I’m concerned, we have two viable options. If you want, I can hop in the lake, rip cupid off the boat, and bring it to shore …’

She shuddered at the thought. ‘Or?’

‘Or you can wade over there and examine it yourself.’

She shook her head. ‘I vote for option three.’

‘Which is?’

She poked him in the chest. ‘You get in the water, and I climb on your shoulders. Then you walk me over there like a tamed hippopotamus.’

Jones laughed. ‘I vote for that one.’

Ulster nodded. ‘Me, too. It’s the chivalrous thing to do.’

‘Screw chivalry. I want to see Jon treated like a hippo,’ Jones cracked.

Payne shrugged. He was more than willing to take one for the team. Before climbing into the lake, he took off his shoes and emptied his pockets. He set everything on the path near a fake stalagmite, then stepped over the safety rail where Heidi was waiting for him.

‘How do you want to do this?’ he asked.

‘You step in, then I’ll climb on,’ she replied.

Unsure of the water’s depth, Payne sat on the stone ledge that surrounded the lake and slowly submerged his feet. The water was cold, but bearable. The underwater lights and the reflection of the colourful mural on the rippling surface prevented him from seeing the bottom, but he sensed it wasn’t very deep. Five seconds later, he was sure of it. Hopping in with both feet, the water stopped just above his knees. ‘Now it’s your turn. Climb aboard.’

‘Are you sure? The water’s less than three feet deep. I can walk in that.’

He pointed at the boat. ‘Even if you do, you’re still going to need a lift to examine cupid. The front of the boat is taller than I am.’

Jones glanced at his watch. ‘Come on, guys. We’re pressed for time.’

She nodded and climbed onto his shoulders. ‘Don’t let me fall.’

Payne wrapped his hands around her calves. ‘Don’t worry, I got ya.’

The boat was sitting ten feet away from the shore, a distance he could cover in a few long strides. On his third step, Payne felt the pinch of an electrical cable under his foot. He was startled by its presence. Until that moment, he hadn’t even considered the possibility of electrocution. Now he couldn’t get it out of his mind. The thought of being fried in an artificial lake wasn’t a pleasant one. For an ex-soldier like Payne, it would be an embarrassing way to go.

‘A little further,’ she said as she reached for the statue. ‘Okay, stop!’

Although she had worked at Linderhof for two years, this was the first time she had ever examined the wooden statue from close range. Approximately two feet in height, the cupid sat perched on the front lip of the boat. His right knee was bent up and his left leg was positioned down, as if he was struggling to balance himself on the choppy lake. He grasped a bow with his left hand and an arrow with his right. His head was tilted slightly in an effort to aim. On his back, he had a pair of wings and a full quiver of arrows. The craftsmanship was truly remarkable.

‘What should I do?’ she whispered.

Payne tried to look up at the statue. When he did, the back of his head dug into her stomach. It felt soft and firm at the exact same time. ‘Sorry, I can’t see anything from down here. How is the statue attached?’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Is it nailed in place, or is it screwed on? Maybe you can unscrew it like a hood ornament.’

She leaned in for a closer look. ‘I’m pretty sure it’s glued. I think I see adhesive.’

‘Knock on it. Does it sound solid?’

Afraid to damage it, she put her ear against it and tapped on it softly. To her, it sounded like a wooden cookie jar. ‘It’s hollow!’

Payne squeezed her calves in celebration. ‘Great! Now we’re getting somewhere.’

‘Now what?’ she demanded.

Jones called out from shore. ‘Look for a lever or a button.’

She glanced back at him, confused. ‘What?’

‘The boulder outside was held in place by a hidden latch. Maybe cupid has one, too.’

She smiled. ‘Good idea. Ludwig loved his secrets.’

The most obvious option was cupid’s arrow since it was aimed directly at her face. She grabbed it and tried to wiggle it, but the arrow held firm. Next she tried to twist his bow. Then she tried his arms and legs. All of them were secure. To examine the back of the statue, she asked Payne if he could move around to the far side of the boat. A few steps later, she was inspecting cupid’s quiver, which was full of arrows. She went through them, one at a time, checking to see if they moved in any way. Unfortunately, they were firmly attached.

‘Now what?’ she whispered to Payne. ‘There’s nothing left to do.’

He tried to look up but couldn’t. ‘Tap on it again. Are you sure it’s hollow?’

She knocked on it again. She could hear an echo inside. ‘I’m positive.’

‘Well,’ he said, ‘I hate to say it, but maybe this statue is like a piggy bank. You have to crack it open to get at the savings.’

She shook her head. ‘I can’t! I simply can’t! If I’m wrong about this and there’s nothing inside, I’ll never forgive myself. This boat is beloved by Germany. I can’t destroy it.’

‘Do you want me to?’ he asked.

‘No!’ she exclaimed. ‘I don’t want anyone to destroy it. Come on, guys! We must be missing something. Ludwig was a builder, not a destroyer. We’re not supposed to break this! There has to be another option.’

The next minute was filled with silence. During that time, each of them glanced round the grotto, wondering if they were looking in the right place for Ludwig’s secret document. For all they knew, the swan riddle could have been pointing somewhere else. Perhaps the lake near Neuschwanstein where Ludwig had fed the swans as a child, or the lake where he had been murdered. None of them had even considered that as a possibility. Maybe the treasure was hidden near Lake Starnberg, and Ludwig had been killed while trying to protect it.

Then again, there was another possibility that none of them were willing to accept. Maybe, just maybe, the treasure was like so many of the things in Ludwig’s life.

Maybe it was just a fantasy.

57

Yesterday’s meeting in Hamburg had clinched a seven-figure deal that Mueller had been working on for weeks, yet he didn’t feel like celebrating when he got back to Berlin. No gourmet meals. No bottles of champagne. No whores or models. And all because of the news from Garmisch-Partenkirchen. That was the effect Kaiser had on his psyche. How could Mueller celebrate when his main rival was doing business in his backyard?

Short-tempered from lack of sleep, Mueller walked down the marble staircase of his palatial estate and found his assistant waiting near the kitchen. Mueller, who was dressed in silk pyjamas and a designer bathrobe, glared at him, letting the piss-ant know he shouldn’t say a fucking word until he’d had his morning coffee. Mueller poured himself a mug, then took a seat in his breakfast nook. The view through his bulletproofed windows did not brighten his mood. If anything, it made his mood worse since the outside sky was grey.

Stifling a yawn, Mueller took a sip of coffee. It was black, bitter, and steaming hot – just how he liked it. Maybe the day wouldn’t be a total disaster after all.

‘Come here,’ he growled.

His assistant approached the table with caution. He knew how volatile his boss could be and didn’t want to provoke him. So he stood there, quietly, waiting for further instructions.

Mueller pointed to the chair across from him. ‘Sit.’

He did what he was told, while remaining silent.

‘Now speak.’

He opened a folder and glanced at his notes inside. ‘Here’s the latest from Garmisch. Krueger’s body showed up early this morning in the Partnach River. It was discovered in the gorge, not far from one of his associates. Their bodies got hung up on some rocks and were discovered by the police.’

‘How did they die?’

‘Krueger was shot at close range. The other man died from a broken neck. Autopsies are scheduled for later today. We’ll know more then.’

‘What else?’

His assistant flipped through his paperwork. ‘They found another body near the ambush site. According to our police source, the victim was dressed in camouflage like the driver of the caravan. His name was Lange. He was a known associate of Kaiser’s.’

Mueller held up his hand and spread his fingers wide. ‘That makes five. Five dead gunmen, and we don’t know what they were fighting over. Or do we? What’s this caravan you keep talking about?’

He flipped to another page. ‘Witnesses, including several employees at the Eckbauerbahn, reported a black man driving an off-road vehicle. He was hauling a soldier, four wooden crates and an unconscious man, who was being treated by a French doctor. They used the cableway to get off the mountain.’

Mueller stared at him like he was crazy. ‘They used a ski lift to escape?’

‘According to witnesses, yes.’

‘Who the fuck does that?’

The assistant shrugged, but said nothing.

‘Does the ski lift go over the gorge?’

‘No, sir. It’s east of the gorge by a considerable distance. Here, take a look at this.’ He reached into his folder and pulled out a map of Garmisch-Partenkirchen. Several additions had been handwritten in coloured ink. ‘I marked the ambush site where the bodies were found and the location of the cableway. As you can see, the violence was spread out.’

Mueller stared at the map and tried to make sense of things. Two of Kaiser’s men had been killed in the initial ambush, which had occurred on a hiking trail above the gorge. Afterwards, the vehicle had headed east where its passengers had linked up with the cableway that took them to the Olympic stadium at the base of the mountain. Meanwhile, Krueger and his associate had gone in the opposite direction, perhaps trying to beat Kaiser’s crew into town by using a shortcut through the gorge. A solid plan, especially if Krueger had someone waiting down below – which would explain the presence of Krueger’s friend near the ski stadium. Of course, everything went to shit when Krueger and his associate were killed in the gorge. Without backup, Krueger’s friend was killed as well, overpowered by the crew from the cableway.

As far as Mueller was concerned, all that made perfect sense. The one thing that didn’t, the one thing that still eluded him, was what had attracted Ulster and Kaiser to Garmisch-Partenkirchen in the first place. ‘What was in the crates?’

His assistant shrugged. ‘No one knows.’

Mueller shoved the table forward, driving it into his assistant’s stomach. ‘Obviously someone knows, or there wouldn’t have been a gunfight!’

The assistant nodded while trying to regain his breath. Once he did, he grabbed some napkins from a ceramic holder and cleaned up the coffee that had spilled on the table. Mueller watched him with a mixture of amusement and contempt, wondering how someone could take that much abuse without fighting back. If nothing else, his assistant was loyal.

Mueller waited until the mess was cleared up before he spoke again. ‘What else?’

His assistant glanced through his folder. ‘Krueger got me thinking. He tracked down the chopper’s registration by using its tail number. That’s how he discovered Ulster’s involvement in the first place.’

‘So?’ Mueller snapped.

‘So,’ he said as he kept flipping pages, ‘I took it a step further. Most luxury helicopters are equipped with radio transceivers that are used to track the vehicle in case of theft. I gave Ulster’s tail number to our police connection, who reported the chopper stolen. That automatically triggered its theft transceiver, a small device that emits an inaudible signal that can be detected by police tracking computers throughout Europe.’

‘And?’

‘And the Bavarian State Police got a hit.’

‘Where?’ Mueller demanded.

His assistant finally found the sheet he was looking for. ‘As of thirty minutes ago, Ulster’s chopper had crossed the German-Austrian border.’

‘Shit! He’s probably going back to Switzerland.’

‘Actually, sir, the chopper was headed into Germany.’

Mueller stared at him. ‘Ulster had left, but is coming back?’

‘We don’t know about Ulster, but his chopper was in Bavarian airspace as of thirty minutes ago. Our source said he would call us with updates.’

Mueller smiled for the first time that morning. ‘Wonderful! Just wonderful! Good thinking on your part. I should have thought of that myself.’

His assistant beamed. ‘Thank you, sir.’

‘What else do you have for me?’

‘Our source mentioned another thing, although he wasn’t sure if we would care. He said it was rather unusual for this type of case, so he thought he should mention it.’

Mueller sipped his coffee. ‘What’s that?’

‘He said Interpol was actively involved in the case.’

Mueller laughed. ‘Of course they’re involved in the case. Those pricks follow me wherever I go, hoping I screw up in public so they can arrest me for jaywalking or some other nonsense. I’m sure they do the same thing with Kaiser.’

‘Actually, sir, our source wasn’t surprised they were involved. He was surprised why they were involved. According to him, the Bavarian State Police were notified that two of the gunmen in the Garmisch shooting were undercover operatives working for an unknown agency.’

Mueller winced. ‘You mean they were cops?’

‘No, sir. If they were cops, the police would have notified Interpol – not the other way around.’

‘Not if they were Austrian cops. Maybe they tracked Kaiser’s crew across the border. It’s only a few miles away from Garmisch.’

‘You’re right, sir. I guess that’s a possibility. But …’

Mueller glared at him. ‘But what?’

‘Our contact thinks otherwise because of the source of the information. It didn’t come from a local agency. It came from Interpol headquarters.’

58

Jones wasn’t the type of guy who stood on the sidelines. He got his thrills by being in the action, not by watching it. Frustrated by Heidi’s lack of success, he kicked off his shoes and climbed into the artificial lake. The entire time he was wading through the water, he mumbled under his breath, ‘They think they’re so damn smart, just because they solved a riddle about a bird. I figured out the goddamn boulder. I used a piece of meat to jump out of a chopper. I’m a licensed fuckin’ detective. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna be beat by a stupid cupid with a boat up its ass.’

Payne grinned when Jones leapt into the water. He knew his friend better than anyone and was surprised it had taken him so long to hop in. ‘What are you doing?’

‘What do you think I’m doing? I’m saving your ass!’

‘But we don’t need your help.’

Jones trudged forward through the water. ‘It sure looks like you do.’

Payne glanced up at Heidi and winked. ‘Believe it or not, I’ve had my head between a woman’s thighs before. No complaints so far.’

She blushed and playfully smacked his cheek.

Jones continued his rant. ‘While you guys are frolicking in the grotto, time is ticking away. The gates open at nine. We need to be out of here before the tourists arrive.’

‘And what are you going to do that she couldn’t?’ Payne asked.

Jones stopped near the side of the boat. Although the cockleshell was tall in the stern and the bow, it dipped down in the middle. The entire craft was supported just above the waterline by a metal stand. To see how sturdy it was, he grabbed the stand and pulled on it. ‘It’s not a question of ability. It’s a question of desire. I’m willing to do things that Heidi isn’t.’

She glared at him. ‘Such as?’

He smiled. ‘I’m willing to piss off Bavaria.’

Without saying another word, Jones sprang out of the water and landed on his knees in the belly of the boat. It rocked from side to side on its stand, a combination of Jones’s weight and the surge of water that followed his leap, but the boat held firm.

Heidi gasped in horror. ‘I can’t believe you did that.’

‘And I can’t believe you didn’t,’ Jones argued. ‘It’s a goddamn boat. Not a Faberge egg. If you’re gonna roll with us, you have to break some rules.’

She looked down at Payne. ‘Jon?’

‘Hey, don’t look at me. I’m just a tamed hippo. You tell me where to go, and I take you there. Other than that, I’m staying out of this.’

Heidi fumed, but there was nothing she could do. Jones was already in the boat, and he wasn’t going to leave until he wanted to. ‘Fine! But be careful. This boat is an antique.’

Jones flashed an evil grin. ‘Don’t worry! I’m not going to break anything – unless I feel it’s absolutely necessary.’

She started to complain, but Payne assured her that he was kidding.

Meanwhile, Jones went to work on the statue. Not willing to trust Heidi’s opinion, he put his ear against the cupid and knocked on it a few times. To him, it sounded hollow. Next, he took a minute to examine the cupid for a hidden seam which was how he had found the secret entrance outside. He had spotted a crack next to the boulder and followed it to the latch. He figured the same method might work here. Using his flashlight for extra light, he studied the statue until he noticed a suspicious ridge just below the back of cupid’s head.

Heidi saw his expression change. ‘Did you find something?’

‘Maybe. There’s a seam back here.’

She leaned forward on Payne’s shoulders. ‘I noticed that, too. I tried twisting his head and moving his quiver of arrows, but nothing happened.’

Jones stared at the figure, trying to view it from Ludwig’s perspective. Where would the infamous Swan King put a secret lever on a statue of cupid? A few seconds later, Jones was beaming like a lottery winner. ‘I think I got it.’

‘Got what?’ Heidi demanded.

‘The guy had a hard-on for swans.’

‘So?’

Jones studied the back of the statue. ‘What do swans and cupids have in common?’

Pushing gently, Jones applied downward pressure on the cupid’s wings. Much to Heidi’s surprise, they slid a few inches down its back. Inside the statue, a latch clicked into place, which opened a secret compartment between the cupid’s head and his quiver of arrows.

She gasped with surprise.

Wasting no time, Jones lifted his flashlight and stared into the hollow centre. He spotted a sealed envelope that had been folded into thirds. Much to his chagrin, his hand was too large to reach inside and grab it. ‘Son of a bitch!’

‘What’s wrong?’ Ulster called from shore.

‘There’s something inside, but my hand is too big,’ Jones replied.

Payne made a suggestion. ‘Let Heidi try.’

To prove her worth, she showed her hands to Jones. Her fingers were long and slender. Without tweezers or tongs, she was the group’s best hope. ‘I promise I won’t take all the credit.’

Jones smiled. ‘Fine! But be careful. This boat’s an antique.’

She giggled at his comment, appreciating how he used the very words she had spoken against her. ‘Okay, hippo, I need you to get me closer.’

‘Not a problem.’ Payne slid his hands down her calves and put them under her feet. From that position, he was able to boost her completely off his shoulders, much like a cheerleader being lifted in the air. ‘Is that better?’

‘That’s perfect! Now hold me steady.’ She reached inside the tiny compartment and clasped the envelope between two fingers. ‘Got it!’

Ulster shouted a warning. ‘Careful, my dear, it’s liable to be brittle! There’s no telling what a hundred years of moisture might have done to the parchment!’

She smiled at Jones. ‘Don’t worry. I’m more gentle than DJ.’

A few minutes later, all of them were huddling on shore, wondering what they had discovered. The envelope was made of good-quality paper. It had been sealed with black wax, then stamped with an elaborate swan. The emblem was identical to the black swan symbol that was on the crate of gold they had found in the bunker.

In Ulster’s opinion, it was a very good sign.

As a historian, he was put in charge of the document. Initially, he had expressed an interest in taking it back to Kusendorf where he could examine it in the climate-controlled environment of the Archives, but Payne and Jones laughed at him. There was no way in hell they were going to fly back to Switzerland to open the envelope. Even Heidi, who was a protector of all things Ludwig, agreed with them. She was far too excited to wait that long.

Despite his protests, Ulster was thrilled with their decision. Decades had passed since his grandfather had uncovered the path to Ludwig’s treasure, a trail he had been unable to pursue because of World War Two. In his mind, his family had waited long enough.

‘Does anyone have a knife?’ he asked.

Jones nodded and flicked open a switchblade. ‘Here you go.’

Ulster grabbed the knife and prepared for surgery. Hoping to preserve the historic wax seal, he carefully slid the tip of the blade under the envelope’s flap and sliced it open with a steady hand. When he was done, he studied the elaborate black swan with his flashlight. As far as he could tell, it appeared to be undamaged.

Ulster breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I think it survived.’

Jones stared at him. ‘We’re happy for the bird. Now get to the good stuff.’

He nodded and gently pulled the lips of the envelope apart. Inside, there was a handwritten document. It was folded in half and yellowed with age. Not wanting to touch the paper with his bare hands, he turned the envelope upside-down and tapped on it gently. The document fluttered out, landing on the fake boulder that served as his workstation.

A moment later, a second object emerged.

It landed with a soft clank.

59

In the dim light of the grotto, four sets of eyes focused on the object that had fallen from the envelope. Made of gold and carved by a craftsman, it was an ornamental key whose bow (or head) was in the shape of the black swan emblem. Surprised by their discovery, no one spoke for several seconds. They just stared at it, imagining the treasures it might unlock.

Jones was the first to snap out of his daze. He snatched the key off the fake boulder and studied it with the beam of his flashlight. Starting near the tip, there was a message engraved on the side of the key. ‘I’ll be damned. There’s an inscription.’

Heidi gasped. ‘Really? What does it say?’

Jones struggled to read it. ‘I’m not sure, but I think it says … Made in China.’

‘Are you serious?’ she demanded.

Jones laughed at her. ‘No, I’m not serious! The damn thing’s written in German, so it could say anything. But you should have seen your faces. Priceless!’

Payne cracked a smile. He had fallen for it, too. ‘I admit it, you had us going. But if you don’t mind, can you give the key to Petr so he can examine it? The clock is ticking.’

Jones kept laughing. ‘Sure, no problem.’

Ulster took the key and translated the inscription in his head. When he was done, he explained it to the group. ‘Thankfully, David was incorrect on two major points. First of all, the message was written in Bavarian, not German. This is good news since Bavarian was the language of Ludwig. Secondly, there was no mention of China in the key’s inscription.’

Jones smiled. ‘Sorry, my bad.’

Heidi waited with anticipation. ‘So, what does it say?’

Ulster lowered his voice. ‘He who holds the key gets to wear the crown.’

‘Crown? What crown?’ she demanded.

Ulster shrugged. ‘Honestly, my dear, I’m really not sure. Perhaps my grandfather made a notation in his journal. If you give me a moment, I’d be happy to check.’

Payne pointed at the document. ‘Or you could just read that.’

Ulster blushed. ‘Yes, of course, how silly of me! Sometimes I get distracted. Like a toddler, I tend to focus on the shiniest toy in the room, not the one in front of me.’

Jones snatched the key out of Ulster’s hand. ‘In that case, why don’t I hold this for you? Personally, I think I’d look pretty damn good with a crown.’

Payne rolled his eyes. ‘Speaking of childish behaviour.’

Ulster chuckled at the comment, then refocused his attention on the document. Unsure of its age or fragility, he used the unsharpened side of the switchblade to unfold the paper on his makeshift workstation. Within seconds, he knew what he was looking at. ‘It’s a map.’

Payne and Jones exchanged knowing glances. The last time they had found a map they were on a fishing boat, piloted by a hard-drinking Finn, near the city of Saint Petersburg, Russia. The map had eventually resulted in their wildly successful trip to Greece.

Jones cracked. ‘I’ll buy the vodka. You call Jarkko. We’ll find the treasure in no time.’

Heidi ignored the comment. ‘A map of what?’

‘Capri,’ Ulster said with certainty. ‘The Isle of Capri.’

Standing across from Ulster, Payne glanced at the document. Although everything was upside-down from his perspective and written in a foreign language, he quickly recognized the shape of the Tyrrhenian Sea and the Gulf of Naples. ‘The one in Italy?’

Ulster nodded. ‘Indeed.’

Jones grunted at the news. ‘I was joking about Jarkko, but maybe we should give him a call. He hangs out near there this time of year. And he’s always looking for a pay check.’

Heidi remained focused on the document. ‘Where is it pointing?’

Ulster studied the hand-drawn map, looking for a giant X that marked the spot. When no symbols turned up, he searched for objects that seemed out of place. A minute passed before he found a possibility. ‘I’m not sure, but I think it’s pointing to the north-west coast.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Jones wondered.

‘Everything is written in Bavarian, except for one item that is labelled in Italian. It says Grotta Azzurra.’

‘What does that mean?’ Payne asked.

Heidi’s face lit up. ‘The Blue Grotto.’

Payne stared at her. ‘Are you familiar with it?’

She nodded, obviously excited. ‘The Blue Grotto is a famous sea cave in Capri. Sunlight passes through an underwater cavern that reflects the light into the cave. It makes the whole cavern glow an eerie shade of blue. Ludwig was fascinated by its beauty.’

Payne sensed there was more information to come. ‘And?’

She smiled. ‘And Ludwig built a replica in this grotto.’

Ulster laughed with delight. ‘Can you show us where?’

Heidi led the way. They hustled to the landing near the artificial waterfall, which had been turned off for several minutes. With a grin on her face, she told them to stay put while she headed for the hidden control panel.

Payne objected. ‘Not this shit again.’

‘No tricks, I promise.’

‘Then what are you doing?’

She started flipping switches. ‘Obviously, there’s no sunlight down here. In order to reproduce the Blue Grotto, the builders had to install a special light under the water. Keep your eyes on the sea cave on the far side of the lake.’

‘Where’s the sea cave?’ Jones asked, a split-second before an alcove on the opposite side of the lake turned a brilliant shade of light blue. ‘Never mind.’

To produce the effect, a stone archway had been built just above the surface of the water. The curved gap between the stone and lake was so narrow that Jones had assumed it was a shadow on the base of the wall instead of an opening. But now that the blue light was on, he was able to see the arched gap above the water.

Heidi reappeared beside them. ‘Pretty, isn’t it?’

Payne nodded. ‘Believe it or not, I think I’ve seen pictures of the actual cave. As soon as you turned on the light, the image popped into my mind.’

‘I’m not surprised. It really is quite famous. And the designers did a wonderful job.’

Jones stared across the lake. It looked vaguely familiar to him, too. ‘That’s all well and good, but what are we supposed to do now?’

She shrugged. ‘I have no idea.’

Payne turned to Ulster for advice. ‘What do you think?’

Ulster paused in thought. After a few seconds of analysis, he broke into a wide grin. ‘I hate to say it, but I think the hippo should get back into the water.’

Payne cracked a smile. He wasn’t used to being teased by Ulster. ‘That’s strange. I don’t remember seeing you in the water earlier.’

Ulster laughed and patted his own belly. ‘Touche.’

‘Seriously, do you think there might be something back there?’

‘Obviously, I’m far from certain, but I think it would be foolish not to check. After all, we are a long way from home.’

Payne nodded in agreement. ‘How big is the cave? Any idea?’

Heidi answered. ‘I honestly don’t know. I’ve never been back there before. But the one in Capri is huge. The only thing that’s small is the opening. To enter the Grotta Azzurra, people have to lie flat on their backs in rowing boats or else they would bump their heads on the entrance. But once inside, it expands into a massive cavern.’

Payne studied the gap on the far side of the lake. It was much more narrow than the one in Italy; a toy boat would struggle to pass underneath the stone archway, let alone a rowing boat. Then again, that might have been done on purpose. If it were too inviting, it might have attracted too many unwanted guests.

Payne hopped into the water. ‘Screw it! I’ll take a look.’

Jones followed his lead. ‘Me, too.’

The instant Jones hit the water, Heidi remembered the object he was carrying in his grasp. ‘Please be careful with the key! Try not to get it wet.’

He laughed at the anxiety in her voice. She sounded like a first-time mom. ‘Heidi, you’ve got to relax. The key is shaped like a swan. A little water won’t kill it.’

60

With flashlights in their hands, Payne and Jones trudged through the chilly water of the lake while Heidi and Ulster urged them on. For Payne, his journey had come full circle. Everything had started with a phone call while he was exploring the depths of the Ohio River. Now he was back in the water, hoping to find a secret treasure in the heart of the Blue Grotto. All things considered, searching for gold was a lot more exciting than finding a bottle opener.

As they passed the front end of the cockleshell boat, the water was barely up to their knees. After that, the lakebed start to slope away – much like a swimming pool near the deep end. Heidi had warned them of the possibility. She knew the lake had a depth of ten feet in certain parts; unfortunately, she wasn’t quite sure where since she had never been in the water. In some ways, Payne and Jones were glad they didn’t know. It only added to their excitement.

By the time they reached the entrance to the Blue Grotto, Jones had to stand on his tiptoes or else the water would have been up to his eyes. Meanwhile, Payne had the luxury of an extra six inches. Although his height allowed him to stay comfortably above water level, it forced him to duck his head as he passed under the stone archway that led to the cave.

Lit by coloured lights, the ceiling in the cavern glowed a magical shade of blue. But the lamps were so bright it actually prevented them from seeing clearly.

Payne called towards the shore. ‘Please cut the lights in here.’

Heidi disappeared behind the control panel and flipped the switch. The Blue Grotto quickly turned dark. ‘Is that better?’

‘Much,’ he shouted as he turned on his flashlight.

Jones rubbed his eyes, trying to get them to adjust. Wherever he looked, he saw light blue splotches. ‘Is it just me, or do you see Smurfs?’

‘Seeing them is one thing. If they start to talk, we have problems.’

Jones stared at him. ‘Holy crap. You look like that chick from Avatar.’

Payne laughed. ‘If you touch my tail, you’re a dead man.’

Jones rubbed his eyes some more and hoped for the best. Slowly but surely, he became used to the darkness. Once he had, he flipped on his flashlight and headed deeper into the grotto where Payne was examining the ceiling. ‘What are we looking for?’

‘Anything that doesn’t belong.’

‘Like my black ass in a lake?’

Payne smiled. ‘That would qualify.’

Unlike the spacious Grotta Azzurra in Capri, the cavern was relatively small. Approximately twelve feet in width and length, the Blue Grotto’s most dominant feature was a giant stalagmite near the rear wall that towered five feet above the surface of the water. At first glance, Payne assumed the stalagmite concealed one of the roof’s support beams, but that notion disappeared when he shone his light on the vaulted ceiling and realized there was seven feet of clearance above the top of the stalagmite. That meant the two of them weren’t connected.

Payne called over his shoulder. ‘Take a look at this.’

‘At what?’ Jones said as he tiptoed closer.

‘This rock. It doesn’t look right.’

‘That’s because it’s fake.’

Payne thumped on it. ‘I mean its shape. It looks like a volcano.’

‘Knowing Ludwig, it is a volcano. If you piss off Heidi, she’ll turn on the lava.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘Me, too. That girl’s a firecracker.’

Running his hand over the rough texture of the cement, Payne moved to his right and studied the stalagmite with the beam of his flashlight. His interest soared when he spotted a series of notches, cut vertically into the cement. They started well below the surface of the water and continued up its side. ‘I think I found something.’

Jones looked at him. ‘Like what?’

Payne handed him his light. ‘Here, hold this.’

‘What did you find?’

‘A ladder.’

‘Really?’

Instead of explaining, Payne placed his right foot in one of the notches and propelled himself out of the water. He quickly wrapped his arms round the stalagmite to steady his balance, then placed his left foot in the next notch and climbed higher. A few seconds later, he was sitting on top of the fake rock. Unlike the stalagmites they had seen near the shore, the top of this one was flat like a plateau. ‘Throw me my flashlight.’

Jones tossed it up to him. ‘Is there room for me?’

Payne shone his light behind the stalagmite and realized there was a narrow ledge between the stalagmite and the rear wall of the grotto where both of them could stand. It was just above the surface of the lake. Payne shuffled into position, then reached down and helped Jones out of the water. Dripping wet and slightly out of breath, they studied the top of the rock – which was just below eye level – and spotted a circular seam that looked like a hatch. It was six inches from the outer edge of the rock and sealed tight. They tried to wedge their fingers into the gap, but it was far too narrow.

Payne glanced at him. ‘Suggestions?’

‘A crowbar might work.’

‘Do you have one?’

‘Nope.’

‘Then let’s cross that off the list. While we’re at it, let’s eliminate Plan B.’

During their years as MANIACs, Plan B often meant using C-4 and a remote detonator. Here, that wasn’t an option.

Jones frowned. ‘Too bad. I always liked Plan B.’

Payne knocked on top of the stalagmite. Although it was coated with cement, it sounded metallic – like the hatch on a submarine. For all they knew, it could have been an access panel to a mechanical floor underneath the grotto, a place where drainage pipes had been laid and coloured lights could be fixed. Yet something about its placement told him otherwise. Boats couldn’t enter the cove because of the stone archway, and due to the depth of the water, workers would have had a difficult time bringing in tools and supplies. In Payne’s mind, the only reason to put a tunnel back here was to hide it from the rest of the world, and the only reason to do that was if it led somewhere important. What had Heidi said earlier? ‘Ludwig loved his secrets.’

Well, whatever was hidden back here was bound to be a doozy.

Payne glanced at Jones. ‘Start looking for levers or buttons. I’m heading to shore to talk to Petr and Heidi. Maybe they missed something on the map.’

‘Good idea.’

Not wanting to jump into the water because of the presence of underwater lights, Payne hopped on top of the plateau and draped his legs over the side until he felt one of the stone notches with his toes. Once his feet were in place, he started his climb down, one foot at a time. As his face passed the highest notch on the stalagmite, his eyes widened with surprise. He quickly used his left hand to steady himself before he climbed back up.

‘What’s wrong?’ Jones wondered.

‘Nothing’s wrong. I think I found a handle.’

‘Where?’

‘It’s in one of the steps.’

Wasting no time, Payne threw his legs in front of him and flipped over on his stomach. This allowed him to hang his upper torso over the edge of the plateau and examine the interior of the notch with his flashlight. As he suspected, a small handle that activated the locking mechanism inside the stalagmite had been concealed in the notch. Although he wasn’t quite sure how it worked – or if it would work – he realized he shouldn’t be on top of the hatch when he gave the handle a tug. A few seconds later, he was hanging from the side of the stalagmite and pulling on the handle.

Payne heard a creak, then a whir as a series of internal gears rotated into place. It was soon followed by a pop and a clank as the hatch sprang open. The entire process took less than three seconds. When it was done, the edge of the hatch closest to Payne was only a few inches above the outer rim of the plateau, but that was more than enough space for him to insert his hands and lift the hatch on its hinges until it was perpendicular to the lake.

Jones watched the proceedings from the nearby ledge. He immediately leaned forward and shone his flashlight into the centre of the stalagmite, hoping to see a pot of gold or a treasure chest filled with jewels. Instead, he saw a series of rusty iron steps. They had been mounted into the side of a cement tunnel that went deep into the earth, far beyond the beam of his flashlight.

‘Great,’ he mumbled. ‘We found a sewer.’

Payne stared into the abyss. To him, it looked promising. Who knew what Ludwig had hidden underneath the grounds of Linderhof? ‘Stay here if you want. I’m going in.’

‘I wouldn’t recommend it.’

‘Why’s that?’

Jones pointed out the rusty steps. ‘Bare feet and rust don’t mix. When was the last time you had a tetanus shot?’

Payne conceded the point. ‘Agreed. I planned on going back to shore anyway. I have a feeling our friends will want to join us.’

61

Payne and Jones returned to the hatch a few minutes later. This time, they were joined by Heidi and Ulster, who willingly braved the deep waters of the grotto for a chance to explore the secret passageway. Before they left shore, Heidi stashed their personal belongings and Ludwig’s map behind a fake boulder, far from the tourist path. They decided it would be safer there than in the lake and the unknown environment of the tunnel.

With a flashlight clenched in his teeth, Payne entered the stalagmite first. He slowly climbed down the ladder, testing the sturdiness of every step before he shifted his weight to the next one. By the time he reached the bottom of the steps – a distance of nearly thirty feet – he was covered in cobwebs and a wide variety of spiders. He calmly brushed them aside, then took the light out of his mouth to study his surroundings.

An arched tunnel ran uphill from left to right. It was made of cement and looked similar to the passageway he had just climbed through. Payne shone his light in both directions, hoping to see where the tunnel led, but the path curved out of sight.

Jones called down the shaft. ‘Are we clear?’

‘Yeah,’ Payne said. ‘You’re clear.’

Although the trio didn’t know what to expect or what they might find, they climbed down the ladder with a spring in their step. Heidi reached the bottom first followed by Ulster, whose bulk gave him some trouble in the shaft, and Jones, who lowered the hatch but didn’t close it completely in case there wasn’t another way out.

Heidi shone her light downhill to the left. ‘What is this place?’

Payne shrugged. ‘I was about to ask you the same thing.’

‘Honestly, I have no idea. I never knew it was here.’

‘Any rumours about secret passageways?’

She glanced uphill to the right, trying to regain her bearings. ‘All Ludwig’s castles have secret passageways: Neuschwanstein, Herrenchiemsee, Linderhof. I thought we had found all of them during the past century or two. I guess I was wrong.’

While they were talking, Jones studied the composition of the tunnel itself. There was something oddly familiar about its colour and design. He ran his fingertips across the concrete surface, trying to get in touch with the memory that eluded him. A few seconds passed before he figured it out.

‘I’ll be damned,’ he said, laughing.

‘Is something wrong?’ Ulster asked.

Jones knocked on the wall. ‘I was trying to remember where I’ve seen concrete like this before. Then it dawned on me. It’s the same colour and texture as the bunker.’

Ulster considered the possibility. ‘Actually, that stands to reason. Ludwig could have used the same builders and materials for both projects. As I mentioned yesterday, the bunker is less than fifteen miles from Linderhof. It wouldn’t surprise me if the bunker and tunnel were completed in the same year.’

Payne overheard the end of their conversation. ‘Speaking of tunnels, let’s figure out where this one goes. Does anyone have a preference, or should we flip a coin?’

Jones, who was blessed with an impeccable sense of direction, clarified their options. ‘In case you’re wondering, the castle is to the left. I’m not sure if the tunnel goes that far, but the castle is definitely that way.’

Payne pointed uphill. ‘In that case, let’s go to the right. I have a pretty good idea where it leads, but I want to test my theory.’

Jones laughed. ‘You have a theory? About what?’

Payne started walking. ‘About something Petr said.’

Ulster hustled after him. ‘Wait! What did I say?’

Payne glanced over his shoulder to make sure everyone was following. Just to be safe, he signalled for Jones to bring up the rear. ‘Yesterday, you told us a story about Ludwig’s disappearance from Linderhof. You said he vanished without a trace for thirty-six hours.’

Ulster nodded. ‘It occurred the night after he sent the black swan letters. His advisors eventually found him at his house in Schachen.’

‘Covered in dirt,’ Jones added from the back.

Ulster grinned. ‘I’m glad you guys were listening!’

‘We’re always listening,’ Jones assured him. ‘We’re often bored, but still …’

Payne tried not to laugh. ‘Anyway, as a former soldier, the thing that bothered me most about your story was the negligence of the palace guards. How in the hell could an overweight king like Ludwig sneak past all of them without being seen? At first, I thought maybe he dressed up in one of his elaborate costumes, but then I remembered this happened in the middle of the night. The guards were bound to check anyone who passed through the castle gates.’

Jones cleared his throat. ‘Are you getting to a theory?’

‘As a matter of fact I am.’ Payne spotted the end of the tunnel. It was less than thirty feet ahead of them. ‘My guess is he didn’t go through the castle gates. My guess is he took this tunnel under the castle wall. That’s why none of the guards saw him leave.’

‘And why was he so dirty?’ Ulster wondered.

‘If he escaped through the grotto, he had to jump into the water to reach the secret hatch. That means he would have been soaking wet when he left this tunnel and hit the nearby woods. Dirt would have stuck to him like lint on a sweater.’

‘Where did he go?’ Heidi asked.

Payne laughed. ‘How should I know? You’re the expert, not me. But if I had to guess, I’d say he was meeting one of his co-conspirators – someone he didn’t want to be seen with. Otherwise, why go to all this trouble?’

Ulster offered a possibility. ‘Unless, of course, he did this sort of thing all the time. After all, Ludwig was nocturnal and a tad crazy. Who knows what he liked to do after dark?’

‘Or who he liked to do,’ Jones cracked.

‘Either way,’ Payne said, ‘he could’ve used this tunnel to get away.’

Heidi challenged him. ‘You seem pretty confident for a tourist.’

As they walked forward, Payne shone his light on the wall that ended the tunnel. An iron ladder, which had been attached to the concrete, disappeared in the darkness of the vertical shaft. ‘Who knows? I could be wrong about everything. Maybe this is a mechanical tunnel that leads to all those generators you told us about. If you’d like, I’d be more than happy to bet on the answer. Care to wager your share of the treasure? That is, if there’s a treasure.’

She shook her head. ‘Not a chance.’

‘In other words, you think I’m right.’

‘No,’ she said with a giggle. ‘Well, maybe.’

When they reached the end of the tunnel, he examined the shaft above him. It looked identical to the one from the grotto, except it was half the height – a fact he had expected since they had been walking uphill the entire time. ‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough.’

‘Should I light your way?’ she asked.

He nodded. ‘Thanks. That would help.’

Payne put his flashlight in his pocket and started his climb through all the spider webs that had collected in the shaft over the years. In certain parts of the world – especially warm-weather locations where some spiders were deadly – he would have taken more precautions, but he didn’t have much to fear in Germany, so he simply brushed the webs aside as he climbed. Meanwhile, Heidi watched from the tunnel floor and nearly went into convulsions. Few things in life freaked her out more than spiders. Jones quickly recognized her fear and was tempted to tickle the back of her neck, but decided against it. In the long run, he figured his amusement wouldn’t be worth the physical damage she would inflict upon him.

A few seconds later, Payne reached the top of the steps and studied the hatch. Attached to its centre was a circular handle resembling the mechanism on a submarine door. He could loosen or tighten the lock by spinning the handle one way or the other. To make things easier, a lever had been mounted on the right side of the wheel – probably to help Ludwig open the door while he was hanging from the steps.

‘Be careful,’ Jones teased. ‘For all we know, it might open on the highway. I’d hate to see a truck take off your head.’

Payne grabbed the lever. ‘Somehow I doubt that’s going to happen.’

‘If it does, can I have your house?’

Payne smiled and yanked on the handle. First, there was a hiss, then a clank, and then the hatch popped open. A burst of fresh air came rushing into the shaft, which caused the remnants of the spiders’ webs to dance in the breeze.

Heidi felt the wind. ‘Where does it go?’

‘Be patient! I don’t know yet.’

With thoughts of trucks still fresh in his mind, Payne pushed it open slowly. One inch. Then two. Then five. Then ten. The more he opened it, the more sunlight leaked into the shaft. Before long, flashlights weren’t needed below, and Payne’s theory was proven correct. ‘Just as I thought. We’re in the woods beyond the castle’s grounds.’

Ulster called up to him. ‘How was the hatch concealed?’

‘Good question. Let me check.’ Payne climbed out of the shaft and examined the outside of the hatch. A moment later, his smiling face appeared above the shaft. ‘You’re not going to believe this. It was sculpted to look like a tree stump. The damn thing’s pretty realistic. I wouldn’t have given it a second glance.’

Heidi stared up at him. ‘Can I take a look?’

Payne nodded. ‘All of you can. But let’s make this quick. I have a feeling the other end of the tunnel is going to be even better.’

62

The Pentagon

Arlington, Virginia

Randy Raskin sat in his windowless office, surrounded by next-generation computers and paper-thin digital screens that would be the envy of every hacker in the world. Unfortunately, due to his classified position at the Pentagon, he wasn’t allowed to mention anything about his work or equipment to most of his friends. As far as they knew, he was nothing more than a low-level programmer, working a dead-end job in the world’s largest office building – because that’s what he was required to tell them. But in reality, he was a high-tech maestro, able to track down just about anything in the world of cyberspace.

As a computer researcher at the Pentagon, Raskin was privy to many of the government’s biggest secrets, a mountain of classified data that was there for the taking if someone knew how to access it. His job was to make sure the latest information got into the right hands at the right time. And he was great at it. Over the years, Payne and Jones had used his services on many occasions, and that had eventually led to a friendship.

An infamous workaholic, who consumed enough caffeine on a typical working day to jumpstart a car battery, Raskin often pretended he didn’t have time for Payne and Jones, or their bimonthly favours. But the truth was he admired them greatly and would do just about anything to help them. In fact, one of his biggest joys in life was living vicariously through them – whether that was during their time with the MANIACs or their recent adventures round the globe. Sometimes, especially when he was bored at work, he would tap into the GPS on their phones and try to figure out what they were doing. Then he would determine if he could assist them in any way.

For some, it would be considered stalking.

For Raskin, it was a perk of his job.

Over the past forty-eight hours, he had checked their location on several occasions. At first they were in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. Then Innsbruck. Then Kusendorf. Now back in Bavaria. Not surprisingly, when he cross-referenced their GPS data with his countless databases, he had discovered a pile of bodies and no arrest warrants.

Obviously, Payne and Jones had remembered their training.

In a twisted kind of way, it made him proud to be an American.

Raskin considered giving them a call to see if he could help but decided to do a little more research before he offered. Based on their brief stop in Kusendorf, he knew the Ulster Archives were involved. That meant whatever they were doing was historical in nature. Curious about the Archives’ latest projects, Raskin entered Petr Ulster’s name into his classified search engine and got an immediate hit. Ulster’s personal helicopter had been reported stolen earlier that day.

Raskin laughed at his screen. ‘What are you guys up to now?’

After inspecting the fake tree stump, they returned to the tunnel energized. None of them knew what they were going to find in the opposite direction, but they sensed it would be significant. Payne closed and sealed the hatch, then led them on their journey.

Whether it was the downhill slope of the tunnel or the adrenaline surging through their veins, their stride and pace increased significantly. Even Ulster, who tended to lumber along like a water buffalo, managed to stay on Payne’s heels. Before they knew it, they were passing the shaft to the grotto and covering new ground.

Jones spoke from the back. ‘Based on the angle of this tunnel, we’re heading directly towards the castle. I bet we’re underneath that trail we took from the arbour to the secret entrance.’

Heidi shook her head in amazement. ‘How do you do that?’

‘Do what?’ he asked.

‘Figure out which direction we’re walking underground?’

Jones shrugged. ‘It’s a gift.’

She glanced over her shoulder. ‘I’m serious.’

‘I am, too. I have a great internal compass. I just know which way we’re going. You can blindfold me, drug me and spin me around. When I wake up, I’ll know which way is north.’

Payne defended him. ‘Believe it or not, he’s telling the truth. We once did that to him at a bachelor party. He woke up in the back of a van in Tijuana but he knew how to get to Canada.’

She laughed. ‘That’s impressive.’

Jones waved off the compliment. ‘Actually, it was pretty easy. It was the middle of the afternoon, so I whipped out my sundial. Trust me, that thing casts a shadow like a sequoia.’

She didn’t miss a beat. ‘And yet, it’s not nearly as big as your ego.’

Jones couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You know what? You’re pretty cool for a white girl. I vote we don’t kill you at the end of this mission.’

Ulster chuckled. ‘Me, too.’

Payne looked back at her. ‘I’m still undecided.’

She gave him a playful shove. ‘It doesn’t matter. Majority wins.’

‘Fine! We’ll let you live, but you have to buy us dinner. This is your homeland after all. It’s the least you should do for your guests.’

She smiled at him. ‘Only if you return the favour when I visit the States.’

‘When is that?’ Payne wondered.

‘That depends. When are you going to invite me?’

Payne flirted back. ‘I guess that depends on what I have for dinner.’

She blushed and bit her lip, but didn’t respond – even though she wanted to.

After a lengthy pause, Ulster cleared his throat. ‘May I change the subject?’

‘Please,’ she said, relieved.

‘Speaking of compasses,’ Ulster said, completely oblivious to all the flirting that had been going on, ‘my moral compass is spinning out of control right now, and I’m not sure what to do. May I pose a dilemma to the group?’

Payne shone his flashlight down the tunnel in front of them. As far as he could tell, there was nothing on the horizon – no hatches, no intersections, no secret rooms – nothing but a concrete tunnel that sloped downhill and curved out of sight. Based on his earlier view of the castle grounds from the window of the chopper, he guessed there was at least 300 yards between the fake tree stump and the castle itself. Ultimately, if that’s where the tunnel was leading, they still had plenty of time to kill. ‘What’s bugging you?’

Ulster swallowed hard. ‘For argument’s sake, let’s say we discover a massive treasure at the end of this tunnel. If that happens, what are your intentions?’

‘What do you mean?’ Payne asked.

Ulster explained his concern. ‘We’re assuming Ludwig designed this tunnel for one purpose or another, which means we’re technically on castle grounds. I’d like to know what we intend to do if we discover a treasure?’

Jones laughed. ‘Do you even have to ask?’

‘I guess so, because that’s what I’m doing right now.’

‘Personally,’ Payne said, ‘I don’t think there’s a dilemma. We’re on castle grounds, so the treasure belongs to the estate. We’re not going to try to steal it.’

‘Do you mean it?’ Ulster demanded.

‘Of course I mean it! We’re not thieves.’

Ulster breathed a sigh of relief. ‘Oh, thank heavens! You had me worried there for a while when you wagered your share of the treasure. I thought perhaps you were serious.’

Jones shook his head in mock disgust. ‘Damn, Petr, I thought you knew us better than that. Did you really think we’d try to steal it?’

‘I hoped you wouldn’t, but I wasn’t quite sure if Kaiser had rubbed off on you.’

Payne laughed at the suggestion. ‘Believe it or not, Kaiser wouldn’t steal it either. At least, I don’t think he would steal it. Then again, well, who the hell knows?’ Payne hoped to ask Kaiser someday, assuming his friend was still alive. ‘But that’s neither here nor there. The point is we won’t try to steal it.’

Jones picked up from there. ‘And to make sure we don’t break any laws, we kidnapped an employee of the Bavarian Palace Department to watch our every move.’

Heidi smiled. ‘Is that why I’m here? To watch over you?’

‘That and your butt. You have a great butt.’

She rolled her eyes. ‘Well, you should know – since you’re an ass.’

Jones laughed. ‘Heidi, you crack me up. We’re definitely not killing you.’

Sensing a face slap in Jones’s future, Payne slowed his pace and eventually stopped. Not only to bail out his friend, but also to clarify his previous statement. ‘Before we go any further, I’d like to make sure we’re in total agreement about our current objective. If we find a treasure at the end of this tunnel, the treasure belongs to Bavaria. Is that what we’re saying?’

Everyone nodded in unison.

Payne continued. ‘On the other hand, if we find something of value – like a map or a journal – that leads us off the castle grounds, then whatever treasure we might find is fair game. I don’t care if it’s six inches past the castle wall. If it isn’t on the castle grounds, we claim it as our own. Does that sound fair?’

Everyone nodded once again.

‘Are you sure?’ Payne demanded.

‘Yes, I’m sure,’ Ulster replied.

Heidi nodded. ‘Sounds fair to me.’

Jones stared at him. ‘Duh!’

Payne smiled and pointed over his shoulder. ‘Good, I’m glad to hear it. Because I spotted something up ahead.’

63

At the end of the tunnel, there was a thick, wooden door that had been closed since Ludwig’s death. Its handle was black and shaped like a swan. Payne brushed away a century’s worth of cobwebs and pounded on the wood. It felt as solid as steel. It was the type of door that would laugh at a battering ram. It was meant to keep people out.

Payne knew the odds were long, but he tried the latch.

As expected, the door was locked.

Jones patted him on the shoulder. ‘I believe that’s my job.’

Payne suddenly remembered the golden key they had discovered inside the statue of cupid. The bow of the key resembled the swan on the door handle. With any luck, it would get them access to the room. ‘I believe you’re right.’

They switched positions without complaint while the others looked on. Enjoying the group’s attention, Jones milked the moment for all it was worth. He stuck the key in the hole, then pulled back his hand and blew on his fingertips like he was preparing to crack a safe. The tension in the tunnel was so great that Heidi linked her elbow with Ulster’s and buried her face on his shoulder. She simply couldn’t bear to look. Finally, after a few more seconds of drama, Jones grabbed the key and gave it a twist.

Click.

Everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

Instead of rushing into the room, Jones showed remarkable restraint. He had been involved in too many missions to act without thought. He glanced back at Heidi. ‘You said Ludwig built secret passageways in all of his castles. Were any of them booby trapped?’

She shook her head. ‘None that I know of.’

Jones glanced at Ulster. ‘Petr?’

‘I don’t believe so,’ he replied.

‘Just checking.’

With gun in hand, Jones gave the door a shove. It squeaked open on its ancient hinges and hit the concrete wall behind it with a thump. In unison they shone their lights into the darkness, hoping to see mountains of jewels and gold.

What they saw next was tough to comprehend.

Nearly every inch of wall space in the rectangular room was covered with stuff – a wide assortment of blueprints, sketches, letters and more. Some of the items were attached with glue. Others were attached with nails. Every once in a while there were drawings made directly on the walls, as if Ludwig had run out of paper but didn’t have time to stop. The entire place looked as though his brain had exploded and these were the ideas that stuck.

Jones gasped at the sight. ‘Holy shit! Ludwig was a serial killer.’

Heidi took exception to the joke. ‘Disturbed, maybe. But certainly not violent.’

Payne glanced round the room, trying to make sense of things. The only furniture was a fancy desk and chair in the centre of the space. ‘Violent or not, this guy had a lot on his mind. The last time I saw something like this …’ He paused in thought. ‘Actually, I’ve never seen something like this before. The PSYOP guys would have a field day.’

‘The who?’ she asked.

‘It’s a unit in the US Army. It stands for Psychological Operations. Their job is to study the human brain and figure out how to break it.’

Jones smiled. ‘In this case, they’re a little too late. Ludwig’s brain was already broken.’

‘I’m not sure about that,’ Ulster declared from the back of the room. He was staring at a series of letters ranging from 1873 to 1886. There were so many pages they filled half the wall. ‘I think I know what’s going on.’

Payne walked towards him, sceptical. ‘We’ve been here less than a minute, and you know what’s going on? I find that hard to believe.’

Jones agreed with Payne. ‘It looks like a scrapbook puked in here. How does any of this make sense?’

Ulster scanned the documents, doing his best to translate them. ‘Believe what you want to believe, but I’m not exaggerating. I think I know what we’re looking at.’

Heidi hurried to his side. ‘What did you find?’

‘Letters to Franz von Loher.’

‘From who?’

‘A team of global researchers.’

She blinked a few times. ‘Are you serious? I thought that was a myth.’

‘So did I,’ Ulster exclaimed. ‘Several years ago, a scholar friend of mine gained access to the Geheimes Hausarchiv in Munich and searched through Loher’s papers, but he never found what he was looking for. Now I know why. The letters were hidden down here.’

She shone her light on one of the documents. Addressed to Loher, it had been sent from a small village in South America. ‘Did he find a site for Camelot?’

Ulster shrugged. ‘Unfortunately, my dear, it’s far too early to tell. But if he did, wouldn’t that be exciting?’

Payne cleared his throat. The sound was so loud it echoed in the room. ‘Pardon me for interrupting, but what in the hell are you talking about?’

Jones nodded in agreement. ‘I heard Heimlich manoeuvre and Camelot. Everything in between was gibberish.’

Ulster laughed. ‘Actually, I said Geheimes Hausarchiv, not Heimlich manoeuvre, but I get your point. You’d like me to explain.’

Jones sighed. ‘That would be nice.’

Ulster gathered his thoughts. ‘During the past few days, you’ve undoubtedly heard enough stories about Ludwig to grasp the basic philosophy of his life. Whether it was the costumes he wore, the castles he built or the fantasies he created, he did whatever he could to escape reality. As early as 1868 – a mere four years into his reign – Ludwig started searching for a way out. At first, he masked his sorrows with music and architecture. He worked on preliminary designs for Neuschwanstein and added the opulent Winter Garden on the roof of the Residenz Palace. In addition, he became a major patron of the arts, sponsoring composer Richard Wagner and building elaborate theatres. Through it all, he remained unhappy because he was unable to break away from the one thing he despised the most.’

‘What was that?’ Payne asked.

‘Bavaria.’

Heidi clarified Ulster’s statement. ‘More accurately, Ludwig hated the politics of Bavaria and the pressure of being its king, not the country itself. According to his journals, he loved the woods and the mountains of his homeland but was never fully able to enjoy them because someone was always looking over his shoulder – whether that was his advisors, his cabinet or his rivals. During his early twenties, he had to deal with the Seven Weeks’ War between Austria and Prussia, the war with France in 1870 and the foundation of the German Empire, which took away Bavaria’s status as an independent kingdom. That would be a lot for anyone to handle.’

Ulster nodded. ‘That last event in particular had a profound effect on Ludwig’s psyche. The kings he admired the most, both historical and mythological, were sovereign rulers who answered to no one. They had the autonomous authority to build their kingdoms as they saw fit, which was a power Ludwig never enjoyed. He always had to answer to someone.’

Payne shone his flashlight on the rear wall and stared at the letters addressed to Loher. They had been mailed from all over the world. ‘Where do those fit in?’

Ulster explained. ‘Remember that crazy story I told you about Ludwig’s staff? How he sent his butler and cooks to rob a bank in Frankfurt when he was turned down for a loan?’

Payne laughed. ‘How could I possibly forget?’

‘Well, robbing a bank is nothing compared to his task for Franz von Loher, who was the director of the state archives in Munich.’

‘What did Ludwig ask him to do? Forge some paperwork?’

Ulster shook his head. ‘Ludwig asked him to start a new country.’

64

Payne stared at Ulster in the semi-darkness of the room, trying to decide if he was serious. Based on their years of friendship, he knew Ulster didn’t joke about historical data. Yet there was something so ludicrous about Ulster’s statement Payne found himself doubting what he had heard. ‘Loher was supposed to start a new country?’

Ulster grinned. ‘I thought that would get your attention.’

Jones chirped in. ‘How does someone do that? Because I would love to start one. It would be like the Playboy Mansion, but with even less clothes.’

Payne ignored the joke and focused on Ulster. ‘Back in Ludwig’s day, was something like that possible? Or was this just another pipe dream?’

Ulster shrugged. ‘Historians have been debating that for years. Obviously, it would have been preposterous for a normal citizen to plant a flag in the ground and start a new country because no one would have recognized his autonomy, but someone with Ludwig’s clout might have made it work. After all, he was beloved in Europe and known round the globe. That gave him a reasonable chance to pull it off.’

Payne pointed at the letters on the wall. ‘And Loher was his ambassador?’

Ulster nodded. ‘Ludwig had always been enamoured of the concept of building the perfect kingdom on the perfect tract of land. He thought if he couldn’t make Bavaria live up to his high ideals, then he would start again somewhere new. It would give him the chance to rule a country as he saw fit – even if there were no citizens except his servants.’

‘Did Loher take him seriously?’ Payne asked.

‘As a matter of fact, he did. Unlike the amateurs who went to Frankfurt with no intention of robbing a bank, Loher approached his mission with verve. Ludwig had given him a specific list of requirements for his new kingdom, and Loher travelled the globe searching for land that would meet his needs. Keep in mind, this was during the 1870s, long before air travel and cars. Loher was forced to travel by horse, train, boat and everything in between.’

Heidi picked up from there. ‘Amazingly, Loher did all this in total secrecy. If word of his mission had leaked, think of the damage it would have done. The King of Bavaria, a ruler who was loved by his countrymen, was looking to abandon them? There would have been riots.’

‘How did they keep it quiet?’ Jones asked.

Ulster explained. ‘Loher, who had travelled extensively in his younger years, posed as a travel writer or a wealthy foreigner looking for land. When he arrived in a new country, he would talk to the locals and work out who owned the most scenic real estate. Then he would tour the properties and determine if they suited his needs. Not surprisingly, Ludwig was more concerned with pastoral beauty than anything else. He wanted breathtaking views and crystal-clear water, the utopian world he had dreamt about for years. But Loher was level headed. Although beauty was an important factor, he viewed the land through the eyes of a bureaucrat. He made sure the soil was fertile and ready for crops. He enquired about fish, wildlife and other sources of food because Ludwig and his servants needed to eat. He asked about droughts, storms, and the weather in all four seasons. He studied the local history and made sure the land was defensible from invading forces. In other words, he made sure the kingdom would be sustainable for the long haul.’

Payne was impressed. It sounded like Loher was the perfect accomplice for the crazy king. One was a dreamer, the other a realist. ‘What did he determine?’

Heidi answered. ‘After his first journey in 1873 – a trip that took him to Spain, Africa, Greece and the Turkish isles – he presented Ludwig with a detailed report on a number of locations. No one knows how the king reacted because their conversation was private, but it’s assumed he told Loher to keep looking.’

Payne asked, ‘If their talk was private, how do you know about the report?’

‘Loher’s reports eventually turned up in the Geheimes Hausarchiv, the secret archives of the Royal House, two years after Ludwig’s death. The reports are still there today.’

Jones glanced at Ulster. ‘I thought you said your friend searched through the archives and didn’t find what he needed.’

Ulster smiled. ‘He wasn’t looking for Loher’s reports. Those have been scrutinized for decades. My friend was searching for documentation on what happened next.’

Payne furrowed his brow. ‘What do you mean?’

‘According to the Munich archives, Loher made a second journey abroad in 1875. He visited Cyprus and Crete and enquired about Crimea, an autonomous republic on the Black Sea. Unfortunately, nothing seemed suitable for their needs. By this time, Ludwig was getting antsy and Loher was getting too old to be traipsing round the globe. Understanding the importance of secrecy, Ludwig trusted no one except Loher to work on this sensitive project, which forced Loher to refine his approach. Instead of travelling himself, he collected journals from travellers, read books on foreign lands, even interviewed tourists from different countries – all in the hopes of finding a kingdom for his king. Despite these efforts, he reached a regrettable conclusion. The perfect spot for Camelot did not exist.’

Loher explained his verdict in his final report to Ludwig:

I have myself visited a large part of the inhabited world and have read and researched in countless books. Yet I could find only very few places which might be remotely suitable, and in not a single case would I like to guarantee that the enterprise could really succeed … On the whole earth, there is not a single spot which totally fulfils the conditions for a satisfactory outcome. The goal can be only partly attained and certainly not without great sacrifice and trouble.

Heidi added a few more details. ‘Unfortunately for Loher, he was vilified by the public when these reports were uncovered by the press. Most people were still angry about Ludwig’s murder, so they lashed out at Loher, saying he had taken advantage of the deluded king by getting Ludwig to finance his extensive travel. Eventually, the Bavarian government pressured Loher to give up his position as director of the archives even though Loher was the person who had added the reports to the archives in the first place. He felt they were an important part of Ludwig’s legacy, but he was punished for his honesty.’

Payne stared at the letters on the wall. Even though he couldn’t translate the language, he was able to read the handwritten dates on the documents. Most of the letters were sent in 1886, the year of Ludwig’s death. ‘When did Loher file his final report?’

Ulster grinned with delight. ‘That, my boy, is why I am so excited. This wall of letters, dated years after Loher’s final report was presented to Ludwig, contradicts every scrap of evidence that has ever been collected. There have been rumours, but never this kind of proof.’

‘Proof of what?’ Jones asked.

‘That Loher hired a team of researchers to travel the globe for him and compile data for an unnamed client. That these researchers found a piece of land for a modern-day Camelot, and Loher’s final report – in which he claims no such place exists, so it would be a waste of time and money to keep searching – was simply a smokescreen to throw off Ludwig’s rivals.’

Payne took a deep breath and tried to make sense of the claim. During the past few days, he had received a crash course on the history of Bavaria, and his head was starting to spin. Prior to his current trip, he had seen pictures of Ludwig’s castles but had been completely unfamiliar with Ludwig’s life. Now he was standing in a secret room, hidden underneath one of those castles, talking about Ludwig’s plan to abandon his country.

Payne stared at Ulster. ‘I think you better explain.’

Ulster nodded. ‘As I mentioned earlier, my colleague visited the Munich archives on a very specific quest. He wanted to find out more about the ongoing relationship between Ludwig and Loher in the months leading up to Ludwig’s death. As you know, Ludwig was a loner, and the friends he made were artistic in nature. If that’s the case, why did Ludwig and Loher continue to communicate for years after the end of their secret project? Loher was an elderly historian, not a painter or a musician. Trust me when I tell you this, most historians are painfully dull!’

Payne smiled. ‘Aren’t you a historian?’

‘Obviously, I’m the exception to the rule.’

‘I beg to differ,’ Jones teased him.

Ulster laughed. ‘Anyway, when Loher’s travel reports were leaked to the press in 1888, some people speculated they were the real reason Ludwig had been deposed. Not because he was insane, but because his cabinet had learned about his crazy plot to start a new country and had punished him for his disloyalty.’

Payne shrugged. ‘That seems reasonable to me.’

Ulster shook his head. ‘The problem with this theory was the timing of things. Loher’s final report was given to Ludwig several years before his murder. If the subject had been closed for that long, why did the cabinet act so viciously when they discovered Ludwig’s foiled plan? What’s more, why would they have waited so long to react? If the final report was indeed intended as misdirection, Loher would not have concealed its delivery. In fact, it would have been essential that Ludwig’s cabinet learn of the report immediately to reassure them Ludwig would not be leaving. Obviously, I’ll know more once I read through these letters, but my guess is the subject wasn’t closed. That Ludwig was still looking to leave Bavaria, and his cabinet killed him before he had a chance.’

65

While Ulster and Heidi focused on the letters, Payne and Jones examined the rest of the room, searching for information about Ludwig’s secret mission. Unfortunately, their inspection was hindered by a lack of electric lights, a surprising oversight considering the special effects in the grotto but one that was probably done to avoid incriminating power cables. Jones noticed ventilation shafts in two of the corners, which would have allowed Ludwig to use candles or lanterns without fear of asphyxiation.

Shining his flashlight on the left-hand wall, Payne stopped in front of a series of sketches that caught his eye. None of the artwork had been signed, so he didn’t know if Ludwig had drawn them or not, but they highlighted the rocky coastline of a scenic island. Most of the sketches featured a spectacular palace, whether real or imagined, that made the Linderhof look like a shack. Built on the edge of an imposing cliff, it was designed with an assortment of whimsical details – decorative chimneys, ornamental turrets, steep gables and stone sculptures – yet the structure seemed to sprout out of the earth as if it had been there for ever. With beautiful gardens and sweeping views of the endless sea, it appeared to meet Ludwig’s definition of Camelot.

A few feet to his right, Payne noticed a collection of architectural blueprints hanging from two hooks mounted on the wall. Having grown up in the offices of Payne Industries, he was familiar with a wide variety of technical drawings, but their combination of age, language and scope was unlike anything he had ever seen. Drawn in the 1880s and labelled in Bavarian, the pages showed the interior rooms of a massive palace that was larger than most cathedrals. Payne studied the floor plans and tried to imagine what the building would actually look like. When he did, he realized the designs matched the sketches to his left.

Apparently, Ludwig’s scheme wasn’t just a pipe dream. They had started the planning process.

In the centre of the room, Jones sat on the carved chair and sifted through the drawers of the antique desk. A version of the Bureau du Roi (King’s Desk) – a richly ornamented roll-top desk commissioned by Louis XV of France – it was inlaid with an intricate variety of coloured woods. The original desk, which still stands in the Palace of Versailles, has a miniature bust of Minerva on top, but Ludwig’s featured an elaborate bust of the Swan Knight. On the public side of the desk (away from where the king would sit), there was an oval filled with the carved head of Silence, a symbolic figure that held a forefinger to its lips. It was a reminder that discretion was required in matters of the king. Down here, where the desk had been locked away for more than a hundred years, the symbol seemed to have extra meaning.

Unable to read Bavarian, Jones searched through the desk for anything that seemed unusual – although that was a tough term to define in the underground lair of a man with his own secret grotto. Still, he went about his search with zeal, realizing it was a unique opportunity to investigate the death of an important historical figure.

At first glance, most of the objects in the desk seemed to be artistic in nature. He found dozens of pages of sheet music and the vocal scores for Ludwig’s favourite operas. There was a sketchpad filled with doodles, ranging from clouds to mountains to horses. In addition, one of the smaller drawers was stuffed with nineteenth-century office supplies, including pencils, fountain pens and stationery. Like most people in the modern world, Jones was tempted to steal some items for personal use, but decided against it since they belonged to the king.

Jones was nearly ready to abandon the desk and focus his attention on the right-hand wall when he came across a handwritten receipt. The paper itself was an early sheet of letterhead that had been printed from a copper engraving. The emblem at the top of the page was a fierce-looking lion holding a shield. At the bottom, there was a name and an address. Jones tried to translate the words but struggled with the language.

‘Hey Petr,’ he said over his shoulder, ‘are you familiar with a city named Minga?’

Ulster, who was reading one of the letters on the wall, stopped and turned round. ‘As a matter of fact, I am. Minga is the Bavarian name for Munich.’

‘Really? I thought Munchen was the name for Munich.’

Ulster shook his head. ‘That’s the German name for Munich, not the Austro-Bavarian name. Most people get them confused. Why do you ask?’

‘Minga is written on this letterhead.’

‘What letterhead?’

Jones handed it to Ulster. ‘I found it stashed in Ludwig’s desk. I think it’s a receipt. Then again, it could be a grocery list. My Austro-Bavarian is kind of rusty.’

‘So is mine,’ Ulster admitted as he shone his light on the document. ‘But as luck should have it, I believe you are correct. This is a receipt.’

Jones stood from his chair. ‘A receipt for what?’

‘Honestly, I have no idea. It’s one of the most cryptic receipts I have ever seen.’

‘Wow, I guess your Bavarian does need some work.’

Ulster smirked. ‘No, it’s not that. I can read the words perfectly. It’s just, well, the receipt doesn’t say very much. According to this, the item will be available on the first of July 1886.’

‘What item?’

‘That’s the cryptic part. It simply doesn’t say. There’s no price, description or item number. There’s a date of availability and nothing more.’

Jones considered the possibilities. ‘Well, if you think about it, I guess it isn’t too surprising. I mean, how often does a king order something from your store? They’re bound to remember what he bought.’

Ulster nodded. ‘That’s a very good point.’

Heidi turned from the rear wall. ‘What kind of store?’

Jones laughed. ‘We mentioned shopping, and you came running. That’s a shocker.’

She smiled. ‘I am a woman.’

‘Trust me, I’ve noticed.’

Ulster stared at the letterhead. ‘Actually, I don’t know if it’s a store or a law firm. The enterprise was called Hauser amp; Sons. With a name like that, it could have been anything.’

Payne entered the conversation. ‘What about the address?’

‘What about it?’ Ulster asked.

‘Different parts of a city are sometimes known for different things – like Wall Street or Madison Avenue. Maybe the address will give us a clue.’

Ulster struggled to read the tiny print at the bottom of the page. ‘Hauser and Sons was on a street called … Briennerstrasse. Wait! Why do I know that name?’

Heidi giggled with excitement. ‘I used to work near there! Briennerstrasse is one of the best shopping districts in Munich. It’s where wealthy people go to shop.’

He shook his head. ‘Sorry, my dear, that’s incorrect. I know it for some other reason.’

She laughed at Ulster. ‘I wasn’t answering your question. I was telling you why I know the road. The reason you’re probably familiar with Briennerstrasse is because it’s the oldest road in Munich. Plus, it’s very close to Nymphenburg Palace, which is where I used to work.’

Ulster nodded. ‘Yes, of course, Nymphenburg Palace! The summer residence of Bavarian kings. How could that have slipped my mind?’

‘And,’ she added, ‘the birthplace of Ludwig the Second.’

Jones stared at her. ‘Ludwig was born near the street on the receipt?’

She nodded. ‘A few blocks away.’

‘And when was he murdered? Something like two weeks before his order was ready?’

Ulster reread the date on the receipt. ‘I’ll be darned. I failed to make that connection. I must need a snack to recharge my brain.’

Jones patted him on the back. ‘Don’t worry about it. In fact, don’t worry about anything. Call me crazy, but I think Ludwig is trying to tell us something.’

Ulster glanced at him, confused. ‘Really? And what is that?’

Jones grinned. ‘He wants us to go to Oktoberfest.’

66

Everyone assumed Jones was kidding about Oktoberfest. He assured them he wasn’t. ‘Go ahead and laugh, but I’m completely serious. I think the receipt is a major clue.’

Ulster graciously disagreed. ‘As much as I hate to squabble, I think our time would be far better served in this environment than the party atmosphere of Munich.’ To illustrate his point, he shone his flashlight on the walls. ‘Please take a moment to glance about this chamber. The room we’re standing in is filled with more information about Ludwig than a hundred modern textbooks. And all the history you see here is completely unfiltered. It’s as if we stumbled across the tree of knowledge and were given permission to pick the fruit.’