by Blake Pierce
Erlich tapped his pencil against his notepad again.
“Fräulein Rose, you told me yesterday that Herr Forstmann splashed you and this other woman—Audrey Bolton is her name—with beer.”
“That’s right.”
He turned a few pages back in his notebook.
“I don’t believe you’ve been completely forthright with me,” he said. “I talked to some witnesses who say that you and Audrey Bolton had a second altercation with Herr Forstmann.”
London felt suddenly puzzled.
“Uh, I don’t think so,” she said.
“Are you quite sure?”
London thought for a moment, then realized something.
“Actually, I happened to encounter Audrey after she’d run into Herr Forstmann again. I only saw him walking away from her and I didn’t speak with him. She didn’t tell me what had happened, but she said everything was fine. Whatever had happened between them was apparently over with.”
The detective shook his head critically.
“Why didn’t you tell me about this second encounter when we spoke yesterday?”
London was startled and a little angry.
“Well, it didn’t occur to me to mention it, and frankly …”
“Well?”
“You didn’t ask.”
London was a little shocked by her own sharp tone of voice. She hadn’t meant to be rude. She just thought there was something truly unfair about the question. But judging by Erlich’s frown, he didn’t like her tone.
Even so, she didn’t feel like apologizing.
Finally Erlich said, “I mentioned yesterday that I would want to talk to this Audrey Bolton.”
London’s stomach sank as she remembered knocking on Audrey’s door a little while ago and getting no reply. Apparently Audrey hadn’t even responded to the captain’s announcement requesting her to come to his stateroom.
None of that boded well.
“I’ll try to reach her,” London said.
She found Audrey’s number on her cell phone and made the call. After a couple of rings, she heard a familiar cheerless voice.
“Hello. You know who you’ve reached. And you know what to do when you hear the tone.”
After the beep, London stepped aside and said in a low voice, “Audrey, you need to call me. I told you yesterday a detective wants to talk to you today. He’s here in the captain’s stateroom right now. You’ve got to get back to me right away.”
She ended the call and looked at the detective.
“You couldn’t reach her, I take it,” Erlich said.
“I left a message,” London said.
“I’m afraid we need to do better than that,” Erlich said. “Take me to her room.”
London stifled a groan of despair.
“I knocked on her door this morning,” London said. “No one answered.”
“We will try again,” Erlich said firmly.
London, Captain Hays, Detektiv Erlich, and Sir Reggie walked up a flight of stairs to the Adagio deck, and London knocked on Audrey’s door again.
“Audrey, it’s London,” she called out. “The police detective is here with me. If you’re there, please come to the door.”
The group waited for a moment for a reply.
“Audrey, it’s important,” London said.
There was still no reply.
“I like this less and less,” Detektiv Erlich said in a tone of ironic understatement.
London felt the same way, although she didn’t say so.
Where is that woman? she wondered.
“I’m sure she’ll turn up soon,” Captain Hays said.
“I wish I shared your naïve faith in human nature,” Erlich said, stroking his well-kept beard. “In my experience, people seldom avoid talking to the police unless they are guilty of something. And in this case, we’re talking about something very dire.”
Detektiv Erlich stood staring at the door silently for a moment.
“I want you to open the door,” he finally said to London and the captain.
The captain snapped, “You’ve got no business invading my passengers’ privacy.”
“My business is to solve a murder,” Erlich said dryly. “I have no intention of conducting a thorough search the woman’s room. I only want to know whether she is in there or not. I don’t think that’s too much to ask. Of course, if you want me to go through legal channels, this whole thing could become much more difficult than necessary. And a lot less pleasant.”
As London looked at the captain, he nodded his head in reluctant approval.
London took out her master keycard and opened the door.
The window curtains were open, and morning sunlight poured inside. The room was neat and clean, and the bathroom door was open. As London and the others went inside, they could easily see that no one was here. Even so, the detective checked the closet and glanced under the bed.
Detektiv Erlich’s lips twisted into a smirk.
“Well, it appears that our suspect has—what is the American idiom?—‘given us the slip.’”
“I wouldn’t jump to conclusions, Detektiv,” the captain said sternly.
“What other conclusions are there to come to?” Erlich asked.
London wondered that herself. But she figured there was one way to find out. She went to the still-open closet, which was visibly full of Audrey’s clothes and shoes.
Pointing out a couple of empty suitcases, London said, “Wherever she went, it doesn’t look like she plans to go very far or for very long.”
“Indeed, it does not,” the captain said with a snort of satisfaction.
Detektiv Erlich frowned again.
“I want you to give me a full description of the woman,” he said to London and the captain. “I’ll order a team to search for her. If she is anywhere in Bamberg, we’ll find her.”
The captain scoffed indignantly.
“See here, now you’re just being melodramatic. What do you plan to do, set up some kind of police dragnet?”
“Do you have another suggestion?” Erlich said.
“Not at all, if you don’t mind this turning into a nasty international incident. Which I assure you is what will happen if you push things too far. Regarding your murder case, I’ve come up with one or two theories of my own. Would you care to hear them?”
The detective nodded.
In a knowing tone, Captain Hays said, “From what you’ve told me already, Herr Forstmann was almost universally disliked here in Bamberg. Which means that just about everybody in your lovely town is a viable suspect. That’s rather inconvenient for you, isn’t it? Especially since Herr Forstmann was a prominent personage from Munich.”
Captain Hays’s manner grew more daunting as he continued.
“I imagine you’re under rather a lot of political pressure, aren’t you? You’d like this whole case to just go away without a lot of fuss—and certainly without accusing anyone locally. That makes the Nachtmusik’s arrival here rather convenient. You don’t even have to prove that one of my passengers committed the murder. All you have to do is buy some time by casting suspicion upon us. Eventually the case will sort of magically disappear. Or so you hope.”
Erlich’s face had turned red—partly out of anger, London was sure, but also out of frustration that the captain had stated the situation pretty accurately.
The captain’s expression suddenly changed to one of mock apology.
“But—oh, dear, I am being rather harsh, aren’t I?” he said. “I’m dreadfully sorry. Let’s both take a bit of a pause to cool our heads, shall we? Have you had breakfast?”
“No,” Erlich replied, looking a bit startled.
“Then come on over to our wonderful Habsburg Restaurant. We’ll sit down and talk this over like civilized gentlemen, and I’m sure you’ll enjoy the rather sumptuous repast.”
The detective looked undecided for a moment. Then he nodded abruptly and said, “I shall accept your kind invitation.”
“Marvelous,” the captain said. “The restaurant is just up one deck, in the bow of our ship. Please go ahead and I’ll join you there in a moment. We can talk about these matters further.”
Erlich looked back and forth from Captain Hays to London. Then he apparently decided that having accepted the invitation he should be agreeable.
“I look forward to your company and to any aid you can offer me,” Erlich said. Then he made a stiff bow and left the room.
As soon as the detective was out the door, the captain whispered to London, “We need to take care of this ourselves. As promptly as possible.”
“I agree,” London replied.
In fact, she was relieved to hear the captain say so. Things had gotten way out of hand.
“What do you want me to do?” London asked the captain.
“Go ashore and head right into town. Find Ms. Bolton, wherever she is.”
Then he straightened his uniform and went out the door
London looked down at Sir Reggie, who had been watching the proceedings with interest.
“You heard the captain’s orders,” she said. “We’ve got work to do.”
She and Reggie left the captain’s office stateroom. They stopped by London’s stateroom for her bag and a leash, then hurried up to the reception area. As they headed toward the gangway, London realized that she felt a little uncertain about her mission.
She could only hope that her assumption was correct, and Audrey Bolton hadn’t intentionally “given them the slip.”
Because for all London really knew, Audrey might actually be the killer.
CHAPTER TWENTY ONE
Hia hia hia ho
Hia hia hia ho
Hia hia ho …
The raucous yodeling chorus startled London as she and Sir Reggie stepped out onto the gangway. A group of men dressed in lederhosen and women in dirndls were clustered at the base of the gangway. They were singing, yodeling, and some were also dancing. The same small oompah band was also there again, playing more cheerfully than ever.
After yesterday’s events, London had expected Bamberg to be more subdued.
As she and her little dog walked down the gangway, she was even more surprised to spot Emil Waldmüller standing nearby listening to the band. Hadn’t the ship’s historian mocked this same group a day ago?
With an oddly melancholy smile on his face, Emil was tapping one foot and mouthing the words of the song.
London focused on the words the group was singing, trying to make sense of the lyrics.
Ein esel wolte nicht nach hause gehen,
Nicht nach hause gehen.
Something to do with a donkey that won’t go home, she thought, wondering why that would ever appeal to Emil.
When she and Sir Reggie set foot on the shore, she made her way over to Emil and spoke loudly enough to be heard over the music.
“I thought you didn’t like oompah music.”
Emil’s eyes widened with surprise. London seemed to have caught him completely off guard.
“Eh? I—I do not like it at all,” he stammered. “I believe I made that perfectly clear yesterday. Whatever gave you the idea that I felt differently?”
London smiled and thought, Well, maybe the fact that you’re standing here singing along.
But she decided not to say so aloud. Emil seemed rattled enough by her arrival. She didn’t want to spoil his mood altogether—although judging from his sudden frown, maybe she’d unintentionally done so already. And he wasn’t tapping his foot anymore.
Instead she said, “I’m surprised that things seem so festive today.”
“Surprised?” Emil said. “Why on earth would you be surprised?”
London crinkled her brow.
“Well, after what happened yesterday …” she began.
“Oh, yes, another murder,” Emil said. “It is why we are staying an extra day here in Bamberg, is it not?”
London couldn’t imagine why he was talking about it so casually, almost as if he was barely aware of what had been going on. This wasn’t like him at all. To the contrary, the Nachtmusik’s past delays in port had positively infuriated him.
Why is he acting this way? she wondered.
Emil continued with what struck London as an air of forced haughtiness.
“Well, you certainly would not expect a little thing like that to upset the festivities, would you? Especially when there is beer involved. These are Bavarians, after all.”
London guessed that he was right. The Hoffmann Fest seemed to be far too much of a tradition here in Bamberg to get canceled on account of a beer critic’s murder. She stood listening to the band, which seemed to be playing the same tune over and over again.
“What is this song?” she asked Emil.
“I certainly would not know,” Emil said with a scoff.
London was baffled. A moment ago she’d caught him singing along with the music. Now he was pretending he didn’t even know it.
She listened again and picked out some more lyrics.
Da kam die esel liebe Veronika …
London did her best to translate in her head.
Then came a donkey, dear Veronica …
She mused aloud to Emil, “The song seems to be about two donkeys—one that won’t go home, and another…”
Suddenly the lyrics came clearer to her.
“It’s about a lovesick donkey, isn’t it?” she said. “He’s standing around waiting for a female donkey, ‘dear Veronica,’ to show up, and when she does, he winds up going away with her.”
Emil’s scowl deepened, and his face got red.
“As I said, I would not know,” he said gruffly. “Now if you will excuse me, I have … eh, some business to attend to.”
He turned and made his way past the costumed revelers, who were again yodeling the song’s chorus.
Hia hia hia ho
Hia hia hia ho
Hia hia ho …
London was truly taken aback now. She’d never known the usually rather staid historian to have such odd mood swings.
She picked up Sir Reggie and asked him, “Was it something I said?”
Sir Reggie let out an uncertain little whine.
The revelers here on the waterfront walkway were growing more numerous and festive by the minute. As the band struck up yet another tune, London reminded herself of the orders the captain had given her a few moments ago.
“Go ashore and head right into town. Find Ms. Bolton, wherever she is.”
Now her mind boggled at the task. It would have been hard enough to go looking for Audrey if the town were quiet and peaceful. How was she going to find her in the midst of this chaos?
London was troubled by an even more worrisome question.
What if she doesn’t want to be found?
Surely then the task would be impossible.
“Where do you think we should start looking, boy?” she asked her dog.
Sir Reggie looked at her as if she were crazy for asking him.
“I guess it’s up to me, huh?” she said with a sigh. “Well, it’s not like we can go searching house to house. I guess the Maximiliensplatz is as good a place to get started as any. Come on, let’s get going.”
Still carrying Sir Reggie, London made her way through the crowded waterfront walkway and into a short street leading up into the city. Before she got far along, she turned and looked back at the people gathered near she ship.
From here, she could see that Emil hadn’t gone away after all. He had come right back and was standing where she had first found him, listening to the band. He even appeared to be again tapping his feet and mouthing the words to the song.
What’s going on? London wondered
Why had he lied to her just now by telling her he had “business to attend to”? And why was he behaving so oddly?
She remembered again what Amy had said to her just a couple of days ago.
“Honestly, London, there’s so much going on around here
that you don’t know about.”
It certainly seemed that Amy was right. Not that the ship’s concierge had been willing to tell London anything helpful. She’d actually blamed London for not knowing more about what was going on.
“Don’t you ever look right under your nose?”
London sighed again.
“If only it were that easy,” she murmured aloud.
As she made her way along the stone-paved street into the plaza that was central to the celebration, London mused on the mysteries that confounded her.
Too many unanswered questions, she thought.
Why were Amy and Emil both being so furtive? It would certainly be more helpful if they could be simple and straightforward about things.
Where was Audrey, and why had she disappeared? Could she be hiding her own guilt, or at least not talking to London about something she knew?
And then there was the most worrisome question …
Who killed Sigmund Forstmann?
As she and Sir Reggie neared the Maximiliensplatz, London could hear announcements over a loudspeaker. The words were garbled but she gathered that the winner of the beer competition would be announced later that afternoon.
London’s spirits sank a little at the sound. She knew that the brewer’s awards were a big part of the celebration. She needed to find Audrey right away, before the big plaza became even more crowded and hectic than usual. Although Audrey was exceptionally tall and might stand out in a crowd, it was likely to become harder and harder to find her.
Besides, back on the ship Captain Hays was keeping Detektiv Erlich occupied so she could bring their missing passenger back without submitting her to a police roundup. How long could the captain ply the detective with food and conversation before the local Kriminalpolizei went into action?
When she reached the Maximiliensplatz, London was relieved to see that it was still open enough to walk about freely. She put Sir Reggie down, and the two of them began to wend their way along the stalls where one could buy, among other things, masks and costumes.
Like yesterday, many of the revelers were costumed as fanciful characters—fairies, owls, flowers, nutcrackers, and so forth. A gigantic flea and a snowflake appeared to be carrying on a conversation, and their words caught her attention.
