by UD Sandberg
The Theatre of the Apocalypse
Part Two
By UD Sandberg
Copyright 2013 UD Sandberg
All images copyright © are in the public domain.
PART TWO
Dr. STRANGELOVE AND THE SAPPHIRE BOX OF EDFU
17
Vienna
April 3
Gruppeninspektor Alexander Wagner's desk had been filled with reports of burglaries, vandalized garbage bins, stolen bicycles and other low priority crap.
He had a clearing percentage of approximately zero the first week.
Approximately zero the second. But the boss was easy on him and for his sake they jumped the statistics at their weekly meeting.
It was three weeks ago he ate dinner with his wife. Three weeks ago he fell asleep next to her. It had never been such a long time now, and although it didn´t show on the surface, Alexander suffered.
The last day he surfed on similar events. He had read about gangs in London, Hackney, Enfield and Lambeth. Read about the drugs in Amsterdam and the increasing violence in Stockholm of all places, the hooligans, riots, left and right political demonstrations.
He got stuck on one thing that happened just about a year ago. Outside a 7-Eleven store in central Stockholm on the street of Götgatan. The event had attracted attention in German and English newspapers. He recognized himself in the story.
Alexander fell asleep on the desk, exhausted by his own indifference to work and everything else.
He woke to the desk vibrated. The phone rang. It was his wife, Lisa.
She was on her way to the hospital.
She said she had arranged a babysitter if he wanted to work late.
A few days later, he was equally drawn down in the shit. His boss came into the room, Kontrollinspektor Simon Bauer. He explained that they had major problems with the burglary of the City Hall Offices, they tried to bury the matter in the press, but they were just as pushy as usual and he needed help.
He needed someone of Alexander's caliber to at least investigate the crime scene. He would prefer that he took over the case, but did not ask out of respect for what has happened. Wagner agreed to go to Bartensteingasse and examine the site.
The clock was after eight, dusk fell and the tranquility was back again on Ring Strasse. Trams with tourists flowed through avenues like safari buses. UN officials were heading home in their German cars.
Wagner parked outside a shop selling copiers and other office products. The City Hall Offices was empty of people. The gate had new fittings that did not fit into the old port. He met up manager David Haas at the entrance.
Haas showed him around and explained the sequence of the events. Due to lack of power, they had no video footage from the burglary. He showed him the cavity between the Storage Room 16 and 17.
The stench was still there even though they had disinfected the area after they completed the crime scene investigation. When they stood in the corridor outside the storage room Wagner asked.
”Do you have something valuable here that you can imagine that people can sell?”
Haas pondered.
”Not that I can think of. Nothing unique. We have modern IT equipment as everyone else. Fairly advanced large scanners, some special equipment for preservation but most are shot at another facility that has not had any break-ins.”
”Is there anything else you can think of that at first glance has no value, but that might be interesting for other reasons?”
”Like what?”
”Tools, documents that only you have and no one else in Austria or in the world?”
Haas shook his head. They went on in the hallway. Wagner tried to keep the concentration up but it was difficult. He rubbed his hands on his face.
Asked.
”What room were they in?”
”We know they were in the Storage Room 16 due to the cavity and in an office at the entrance where we found a broken radio.”
”Missing something from those rooms?”
”No, we have gone through all the cabinets.”
”You are sure that they were not in any other place.”
”Almost.”
Wagner sighed.
”Light up the hallway.”
Wagner looked at the lock to the Storage Room No. 16. It was worshiped, small flakes of metal had come loose from the lock. He showed it to Haas and instructed him to start at the end of the corridor and look for similar damage. Wagner investigated the doors the other way.
After a few minutes Haas shouted.
Wagner examined the lock on the door to the Storage Room No 18.
Haas was right. The lock was damaged, albeit a bit. They unlocked the door and were met by ten rows of metal cabinets.
”What's in the cabinets?”
”Different things, detailed sketches, drawings, applications. From the 1600s until 1902.”
Wagner stifled a yawn. He looked at his cell phone. She had already fallen asleep.
”I start at one end. We go through cabinets.”
It was close to midnight when Wagner arrived at Cabinet 7799 A: t
He put his mobile on top of the cabinet. Pulled out the first box. He rubbed his eyes again. Started to browse the file cases. He pulled the drawer. Looked over at Haas. Frowned. He pulled out the drawer again. He checked the order of the acts. Because he was tired he counted aloud to not lose count.
”1891:31, 1891:32, 1891:34. ... Haas. Come here.”
Haas hurried to Wagner.
”Look, it seems to be missing a file here. Can you check in the record what it is?”
Haas started a computer that stood at the entrance. He logged in the record and sought after ref 1891:33.
Meanwhile Wagner examined the lock on the cabinet and the metal cover on the upper side was bulging out. He felt on the inside and noticed that the paint was scratched, as if someone had broken into the cabinet with a crowbar.
Haas came back.
”I found the file in the record.”
”What is it?”
”It´s a floor plan of the Kunsthistorisches Museum.”
*
The Castle Ruotkerspurch, Riegersburg
June 13
Ludwig peed. His urine was clear as happy pack1. The inmate in the cell next to him in the C building had called the urina spastica.
Something you apparently got sometimes after an attack.
He felt beat but somehow grateful. He had survived. His left hand was like a handball. Otherwise, he felt okay. It felt like the warm spotlights were gone. He was able to stay behind the curtain, without longing to return to the spotlight like Norma Desmond.
They left him in peace.
For once, August and Ludwig ate lunch at the same time but it would be a lie to say that they did it together. Since I´m the one who knows Ludwig best in this world, I know that he dislikes small talk, he can do it a few times with the same person but tires quickly.
They sat in silence for much of the meal, it was not until August cut up a green asparagus as someone said something. Although Ludwig did not really understand what he meant, he was still happy that August said something.
”Look at this asparagus, Ludwig.”
August took a bite.
”If I just bought it, or even worse, Laura had to buy it, the experience would be totally different and much inferior. Since I have grown it myself in my herb garden, I put the seed, watered, cared for it, and then harvested it, the experience is much greater.”
Ludwig didn´t know what to say, he was most surprised that August said anything at all. He also had no experience of anything like this and could not think of anything to say. He just nodded.
&
nbsp; After lunch, Ludwig put on his workout clothes. Ran down to the village and up the hill. On the way back, he saw a van driving up to the castle. When he came to the courtyard, it turned around and drove away. Ludwig read the text on the side of the car. It said Belgravia Fine Art Services.
He ran and opened the door. In the foyer he found August with four packets.
”What was that car?”
”A delivery”, August said and put the packets in front of each other.
”A delivery of what?”
August looked up.
”Why, aren´t you curious?”
”Is it really that secret?”
A small smile broke out on August's otherwise stiff lips.
”Maybe you´re right. It´s not a secret. It was open auctions at Christie's. It´s just that that I don´t think you're interested.”
August tore away the papers on the packets. Turned the paintings at Ludwig.
”Look, this is nothing for you”, he said somewhat condescending.
Ludwig was dumb. Unable to believe his eyes when he looked at the four paintings that stood before him. It was visual arts at its very best, paintings by Turner, Friedrich, Wilson and Linnell. He asked.
”Is it original paintings?”
”Well otherwise, I have been cheated. I presume that you have not seen them before. This is a winter landscape by - ”
Ludwig interrupted August. The last time he had thought about it was when he left with the train from Berlin to Vienna.
”Caspar David Friedrich, painted in 1811”
August laughed, visibly surprised.
”Well, there you go. I didn´t think you knew. Do you like the romantics?”
Ludwig nodded. He stared at Caspar´s suggestive painting. A praying man leaned against a rock in a grand kid. His crutches were abandoned a few meters behind him. A barren, desolate winter landscape surrounded the poor man. A cathedral loomed in the background, wrapped in gothic fog.
Ludwig helped August with the paintings upstairs. They bore them to August's salon where Ludwig for the first time set foot. He painting of the woman that hung above the fireplace looked even better up close.
They plucked down some paintings. Nailed up the new. Once everything was in place they stood in the middle of the room and admired the works.
”Aren´t they amazing?” August said, but it was not a question. It was a statement and Ludwig agreed. August said.
”There is something special, I can´t put my finger on it. But the four have something in common. Although Turner's painting of Caligula's palace ruins at first glance have nothing in common with Linnell´s harvest societies or Friedrich´s cripple and Wilson's house.”
”They all have a very special light. Like that of the Caravaggio painting you have down there in the foyer. They are like the disciples or something to him, the Light Master.”
August looked approvingly at Ludwig.
”Good observation, Ludwig. But there is something more. Something, yes, I cannot ... ”
Something very strange happened. Suddenly both of them said the same thing, almost in chorus.
”... It is as if there´s something hidden in these landscapes.”
They looked at each other. August laughed.
”Well, Ludwig”, he said and sat down on the sofa that stood in front of the fireplace.
”You know”, August continued. ”If you're interested, I'll tell you something. At Christie's in London, a few years ago I met an old relative of Mr Friedrich. It was of course long since he died, before the middle of the 1800s. He seemed to be in financial trouble because he was anxious to get rid of the few works of art that were left in the family. I invited him to lunch because I was curious about what he knew about him. He told me that Mr. Friedrich, despite his three children and loving wife and a host of friends remained a hermetic shell during his whole life. That he, like so many other artists, painted his inner self and it became all too often lonely cemeteries and desolate horizons. He was a devout Christian and in his paintings, you can almost imagine that he believes that God has forsaken the Creation. And he trembles before this discovery. Before Friedrich celebrated artists always painted winter landscapes with motifs of people skating or something else horrible common but Mr. Friedrich exposed the naked nature for what it is. Death is the only living thing in his art, death symbols as owls, tombs, cemeteries, vultures and ruins fill his paintings. And it expresses what we all in one way or another will face.”
It was quiet for a few minutes. Ludwig stood enchanted, looking at Friedrich. August stood beside him again and said.
”Ludwig, we have earned some time off. Want to play a game of chess with me?”
Ludwig was surprised by the question but immediately said yes so as not to seem rude. He asked to shower first and change clothes.
*
Vienna
June 13
Juan, Marco and Luca slept on each bunk. Matteo sat in the glow of a table lamp. The curtain was pulled in front of the street from the basement they had installed themselves in. Matteo copied up another copy of the plan of the Kunsthistorisches Museum. Lined up marking pens. On the table were a green, blue, black and a yellow pencil. There was one for each man. He drew their way through the museum. Circled the time at each station.
He stood up to get a better overview. He checked that the snakes did not tied knots on themself. The timetable was in line. The operation was floating on like the sand in an hourglass.
Montepulciano manuscripts lay next to the plans. He leaned back. The chair creaked slightly. The men slept on. He was proud.
A bit pompous it might seem but Matteo was proud, really proud that they worked in the Great Doctor's spirit. To really understand Matteo and his brothers in arms, it is important to understand that he viewed them as if they were Bellarmine´s disciples and they were loyal to him with their life. They were soldiers, on a mission according to a centuries old instruction written by one of God's prophets. Matteo told himself that the eternal has patience.
He could glimpse the light behind the curtain. The evenings got longer. The nights shorter. The days brighter. The summer solstice approached. The Theatre was within reach. He was confident that they would get there.
The Four-leaf Clover would show the way in the museum.
*
Ludwig hurried back to the lounge, he did not want the good atmosphere to disappear if August had second thoughts.
”Brandy?” August asked, when Ludwig came back.
”I´m good. I can drink water. ”
Ludwig had been drunk once after Ella. All discomfort strengthened. Everything at the bottom of the pot floated to the surface. It was not something he wanted to repeat.
They sat at a table in the corner of the salon where the chess board was set up. August had lit a bonfire. The flames cast light and shadow on the paintings.
Ludwig found that the salon had an air of a gentleman's club to it. Two rounded leather armchairs stood next to a drink cart.
”White? If you are unsure, it is better to be white. Statistically, you have a small advantage. But you can be calm. I'll be nice to you”, August said confidently as if he's never done anything else than playing chess.
”Sure, I can be white.”
Ludwig moved a farmer two steps to frame E4.2
Although he knew he could ruin the evening, he could not hold it in any longer.
”August. I've been here a while now.”
”Mm”, August studied the board.
He moved a farmer. Frame B6.
”It would be much easier for me to work down in the library if I knew why. Why don´t you do it yourself? ”
August took a sip of cognac. Looked at Ludwig.
”Make your move.”
Ludwig sighed and moved a farmer to frame D4.
August looked at the board. Moved out his right runner behind the relocated farmer. Frame B7.
August stood up and walked to the fireplace. Picked up a piece of wood
. He held it in his hand for a moment turned away from Ludwig. From where Ludwig was sitting it looked like as if he thought about it because he did not move, he just stood still and held the wood.
After a while August put the log in the fireplace and came back and sat down. He looked out across the board, did not meet Ludwig´s eyes and said with sacrifice in his voice.
”Ok, Ludwig. Perhaps it is time that you find out. If you must know, I couldn´t do it. I feel like a pansy in many ways, you know. But believe me, I've tried several times but I cannot do it. You should know that I have tried. Despite all this weight on my shoulders, I cannot persuade myself.”
He looked up and straight into the eyes of Ludwig.
”It's my wife's books. She walked3 away”, August looked away.”She was killed some time ago. The police are hand fallen and cannot do anything. I am convinced that she was doing something dangerous, something that she could not reveal to me, and that was why she was murdered.”
Ludwig swallowed. He lamented the loss.
”Is it her on the painting there?”
Ludwig noticed that his fingers shook as he pointed to the painting above the fireplace and quickly took back his hand.
August nodded.
”Victoria.”
There was silence. August looked at Victoria.
”It's your turn, Ludwig.”
August drank more brandy. Ludwig moved his right hand runner to frame D3.
Ludwig said.
”If you want we can end the game.”
”No, Ludwig. Never mind. If you're afraid I'll beat you in a few simple moves I promise to be nice. Give me your best match now, I beg you.”
August pressed forward a smile. For Ludwig, it seemed to be real, which it was and Ludwig could not help but to agree to his proposal.
It was August's turn.
August moved a farmer to f5 frame. Ludwig countered continue to take it. Frame F5. August attacked Ludwig´s defense with a runner. Picked a farmer on frame G2.
Ludwig took courage. Moved his lady to H5. August threatened Ludwig´s lady with a farmer on the G6. Ludwig took August´s farmer with a farmer on G6.
August looked a little anxiously at Ludwig´s lady. Moved out a horse to F6. Ludwig took a farmer in front August's left tower on H7 and then said a little quiet, almost as if he thought it was a bit embarrassing, like he wasn´t authorized.
