Death (and Apple Strudel) (A European Voyage Cozy Mystery—Book 2)

by Blake Pierce

  “And did he bring your whole group here to this theater?”

  “He did.”

  “And you all went inside the auditorium—you and all twenty of the tourists?”

  “That’s right.”

  Tanneberger scratched his chin.

  “And yet … you were alone when you found the body. How could that be?”

  London winced at the note of suspicion in his voice.

  “The tour ended here, and everybody went their separate ways,” she said. “Olaf—the victim—stayed behind in the theater. I went to a café with a couple of passengers, right outside. When one of them told me she thought she’d dropped her cell phone in the auditorium, I came back to look for it.”

  “Did you find it?”

  London was a bit startled by what seemed like an irrelevant question.

  “Why, yes—but only after I found … the body.”

  Tanneberger held her gaze for a long moment.

  London stammered, “Do you think it was …?”

  “Murder?” Tanneberger said, finishing her thought. “I prefer not to jump to conclusions. Suffice it to say, it appears that the body fell from the uppermost balcony. However, the position is odd. The trajectory does not suggest that the victim simply tripped and fell.”

  London felt as though the world was swirling around her. It was starting to sink in that this impossible situation was very real.

  “Meanwhile, I need to come aboard the Nachtmusik and speak to your captain. I shall accompany you and Herr Waldmüller back to the boat. But first, give me just a moment, please.”

  He turned away and walked toward the policewoman.

  Emil was seething as he murmured under his breath to London.

  “So this policeman is going to come aboard the Nachtmusik and wreak havoc with our tour. And over nothing at all.”

  “It’s hardly over nothing,” London murmured back.

  “Well, it is nothing that concerns any of us. It is not another one of our passengers who is dead this time. And none of us could have had anything to do with what happened—even if it was murder, which I doubt. Suicide seems much more likely.”

  Suicide? London thought.

  The idea hadn’t occurred to her for a second.

  And now, as she remembered the cheerful, smiling tour guide, she couldn’t bring herself to believe it. Besides, it seemed like a peculiar way to commit suicide. A fall from that height into the rows of seats below might not have proven fatal, but would definitely have proven painful and probably paralyzing.

  Tanneberger finished giving his instructions to the policewoman, who walked over to where Greta was still sitting, apparently to question her. Then Tanneberger and another police officer led London and Emil through the lobby toward the front entrance.

  As the group stepped out into the open air, London saw Rudy and Tina Fiore approaching them from among the parked police vehicles.

  “London!” Tina exclaimed.

  “We heard sirens!” Rudy said. “What’s going on?”

  London’s spirits sank even lower as she remembered having to share the terrible news of Mrs. Klimowski’s death.

  It’s starting all over again, she thought.

  She numbly heard herself say, “Our tour guide is dead.”

  “What?” Tina said.

  “How did it happen?” Rudy said.

  “No questions right now,” Emil said, his tone suddenly protective. “Surely you can see that London is very upset. We’re heading back to the Nachtmusik.”

  “Someone needs to call Captain Hays so he’ll be prepared,” London said.

  “I’ll take care of it,” Emil said, taking out his cell phone.

  After his curtness just a few minutes ago, London felt grateful for his show of consideration. But she knew it was only a short reprieve. Soon she’d have to deal with an entire ship full of confused and upset people—again.

  Emil spoke on his phone to the captain, walking a little too far away for London to hear what he was saying. As Tina and Rudy trotted along with London, Emil, Tanneberger, and the policeman, a weirdly incongruous thought crossed London’s mind.

  Tina’s cell phone.

  The reason I went back to the theater in the first place.

  She reached into her bag and took out the cell phone and handed it to Tina, who simply looked puzzled.

  As London and her companions walked back toward the Nachtmusik, she flashed back to Landespolizeidirektor’s skeptical attitude as he’d questioned her.

  He considers me a suspect, she realized with a deep chill.

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  When the group arrived at the Salzach River and the Nachtmusik came into sight, London saw that Captain Hays was standing at the top of the gangway. Sunlight reflecting off a pair of mirrored sunglasses revealed that Bob Turner was standing there too.

  They crossed the barge where the ship was docked, and the police director strode ahead of the others up the gangway. Now London could see that the captain looked very distressed.

  Tanneberger tipped his cap and asked in English, “You are the captain, I presume?”

  “Yes, I am Captain Hays,” the captain replied in German. “We need not speak in English. My German is fairly good.”

  The police director nodded and continued in German, “And I am Landespolizeidirektor Fritz Tanneberger. My English is also fairly good, and we may speak however necessary for clarity. I am sorry we have to meet under such unfortunate circumstances.”

  “Indeed,” Captain Hays said. “I can’t say I know much about the circumstances, except what little Herr Waldmüller was able to tell me over the phone. Perhaps we should adjourn to my quarters and discuss this matter.”

  “Yes, I believe we should—you, Fraulein Rose, and myself,” Tanneberger said.

  “I think our security specialist Bob Turner should join us as well,” Captain Hays said, gesturing to the man standing beside him.

  “Very well,” Tanneberger replied.

  Apparently unable to understand a word of German, Bob Turner was looking thoroughly perplexed. Captain Hays quickly explained to him in English what Tanneberger had just said.

  Emil was still just standing there with a frown on his face, along with Tina and Rudy Fiore, who appeared to be thoroughly confused. London realized that Emil had expected to be included in any discussion that ensued, and that the young couple must still be trying to deal with the news that their tour guide was dead.

  Tanneberger spoke firmly in English to Emil and the Fiores, “I think it would be best for all of you to go to your staterooms for the time being. I would prefer that you not discuss this matter with anyone else at this time.”

  Emil seemed on the verge of protesting, but London silenced him with a shake of her head. She understood that she herself was the focus of Waldmüller’s interest for the time being, and there was no reason to get Emil involved. She hoped they would all go along with Tanneberger’s request not to talk about the death, at least for now.

  Soon enough everybody will have to be told, she thought with dread.

  Tanneberger instructed the policeman who had accompanied them to stay right where he was at the top of the gangway and take note of passengers as they returned to the ship. When London followed Tanneberger and the captain and Bob Turner into the reception area, Sir Reggie came trotting up and jumped into London’s arms.

  Tanneberger looked understandably surprised.

  London was about to put Sir Reggie down and tell him to go somewhere on his own when Bob Turner spoke in English to the police director.

  “No, no, the dog should join us, sir. Sir Reggie is no ordinary animal, I can assure you. He has a proven record for crime solving.”

  Bob didn’t sound like he was kidding in the least. He said the words in all seriousness, as if he truly considered Sir Reggie to be some sort of investigative peer. Tanneberger shrugged in noncommittal agreement, and they all took the elevator down to the Allegro deck.

  Captai
n Hays escorted the group into his spacious but modestly decorated suite, where they all took their places in a sitting area that was also outfitted as an office. London was the only one to sit down, feeling shaky from the morning’s events, and now somewhat daunted at being the focus of attention. She chose a nice armchair, and Sir Reggie jumped up with her. Seeming to sense her mood, he crouched tensely on her lap and glared up at the three men who remained hovering there before them.

  “Before we begin,” Captain Hays said, “in this case, I do suggest we speak in English, for the sake of our security man.”

  “Very well,” the Polizeidirektor said. “Fraulein Rose, perhaps you could offer your own account of what happened.”

  London swallowed hard. She’d expected this, of course. But she felt unsettled at the task of repeating to Captain Hays and Bob Turner exactly what she’d told Tanneberger a short while ago—this time in English.

  She thought carefully over the events as she related them—a brief account of the group’s tour that morning, their visit to the Theater for Mozart, how she’d joined Rudy and Tina Fiore for lunch only to rush right back to the theater in search of Tina’s cell phone, and finally her grim discovery in the darkened auditorium.

  While she was talking, she found herself weighing her words against what she’d said earlier.

  Am I contradicting myself? she wondered, aware that while certain elements of her story were sharp and clear in her mind, others might well be becoming blurred by her panic and confusion.

  Surely that would be understandable, she told herself. After all, she was telling the truth and had nothing to hide. But she worried about misremembering details.

  I can’t make any mistakes.

  Tanneberger was listening attentively, as if he’d never heard her story before. Naturally this made perfect sense. She knew that the police director was listening carefully for contradictions, and she was especially aware of his sharp gaze. She thought the captain just looked astonished, and she couldn’t tell what Bob might be feeling behind his mirrors.

  By the time she finished her account, the captain’s mouth was hanging open with shock. He drew himself up and growled at Tanneberger, “But surely you don’t imagine that any of our passengers had anything to do with this unfortunate event. I mean, what motive could any of them have? None of them even knew the man before today.”

  “Can we be sure of that?” Bob asked. “There’s a lot we don’t know at this point. Seems to me there are many questions still to be asked here.”

  Certain that he was looking at her, London sensed a suspicious glare. She felt a flash of annoyance at Bob.

  So far, she had no reason not to respect Polizeidirektor Tanneberger. He was doing his job in much the same way London herself thought she would in his place. He also seemed to be quite sharp and competent, quite unlike the blundering police chief they’d had to deal with back in Gyor.

  But she wasn’t so sure about Bob Turner. Was he going to make the coming ordeal even worse than it had to be?

  “I’m not ready to draw any conclusions,” Tanneberger said. “But until I’ve investigated the case further …”

  He hesitated, but Captain Hays clearly caught his meaning.

  “You don’t need to tell me,” the captain said miserably. “The Nachtmusik must remain in Salzburg until you say otherwise.”

  Tanneberger nodded sympathetically.

  “I’m afraid so, Captain Hays.”

  Bob nodded in stern agreement.

  “And everybody has to stay on the boat,” Bob added.

  Tanneberger looked a bit surprised.

  “Oh, I hardly think that’s necessary, Herr Turner. I think it’s sufficient that no one aboard your craft leave the jurisdiction of Salzburg.”

  Bob crossed his arms and spoke in his perpetual monotone.

  “I’m sorry, sir, but that just won’t do—not as long as there’s any possibility that any of our people committed a murder.”

  The captain looked shocked at Bob’s protest. London felt the same way.

  Bob continued, “London, how many people were with you on the tour?”

  “About twenty,” London said, worried about what he was about to say next.

  “I’ll need to talk personally to each and every one of them.”

  London’s worry grew sharper.

  “But—Bob,” she stammered, “most of them haven’t even come back aboard. They’re still out seeing Salzburg.”

  “They need to come back right now,” Bob said to London. “Give me a list of their names, including phone numbers and emails. I’ll contact all of them and make arrangements to meet with them personally, in small groups.”

  London was dumbfounded.

  Are we really going to do this?

  Not for the first time, she wondered whether Bob Turner was really the sharp security guy that CEO Lapham thought he had hired. Or was the supposed sleuth just given to random suspicions? She remembered his comment yesterday that somebody aboard the boat was up to no good. But he wouldn’t tell her who he suspected of stealing Oswinkle’s music figure, and she wasn’t sure that it had been anything more than a bluff.

  She glanced at Captain Hays, who also didn’t look happy about Bob’s demand. Nevertheless, he gave London a reluctant nod.

  “As you saw, the ship’s historian was with us,” London told Bob. “And also the Fiore couple. I’ll have to email you the rest of the list.”

  Bob gave her an approving smile and hurried out the door.

  It occurred to London that if this meeting was over, she should warn Emil that he was about to be questioned by the security man.

  But the police director took a couple of steps toward the door, then turned back toward London and Captain Hays.

  Landespolizeidirektor Tanneberger stared at London with his sharp gray eyes.

  “Oh—there’s one more issue we need to discuss,” he said. “And it especially concerns you, Fraulein Rose.”

  His tone and expression had grown just a bit more ominous.

  London felt a sudden chill.

  What now? she wondered.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  The Polizeidirektor held London’s gaze for just a moment.

  “You had rather an adventure back in Hungary, in Gyor to be specific—very recently, I believe.”

  “Yes, sir,” London said.

  “The news circulated rapidly,” Tanneberger continued. “Glint had been on the watch list of every law enforcement bureau for years. Your name was rather prominent in the account of his capture.”

  London gasped. Glint was the popular name of the expert jewel thief and master of disguise Swain Warrington.

  Tanneberger was watching her closely as he added, “And that situation involved another suspicious death.”

  “That’s right, sir.”

  “And you found the body on that occasion as well.”

  “Yes,” London said, wondering what he could be implying.

  “Now, see here, sir,” protested Captain Hays. “If you’re insinuating that London is in any way responsible for either of these tragedies, I can assure you that you are very much mistaken. The fact is, London actually solved the case and found the victim’s killer.”

  “I’m making no insinuations,” Tanneberger said with a trace of a smile. “But you must admit—the coincidence is striking.”

  London’s heart sank.

  Yes, the coincidence really is striking, she thought.

  But how was she going to convince him it was only that—a mere coincidence? A part of her resented Tanneberger for bringing it up. But she knew it wasn’t rational for her to feel that way. After all, he wouldn’t be doing his job if he ignored such a coincidence.

  But she was also anxious that he not waste his time. If there was still a killer out there, any suspicion of her might be worse than just a problem for London herself. It might be a dangerous distraction.

  I need to give him some sort of assurance, she thought.

&nbs
p; “Polizeidirektor Tanneberger,” she said, “you can count on my cooperation in every possible way.”

  “Very good,” Tanneberger said. “Meanwhile, my team and I will begin our investigation ashore. I will leave you all to your own tasks. This is truly an unfortunate set of circumstances, and I hope we can resolve things to all of our satisfaction soon.”

  “Yes, the sooner the better for all of our sakes, I’m sure,” Captain Hays said.

  The Polizeidirektor gave cards with his contact information to London and the captain. Then he tipped his hat and turned toward the door. As Hays saw him out with a few more encouraging comments, London pulled out her cell phone. She sent Bob her complete list of those who had been on the tour and their contact information.

  The captain returned and sat down, drumming his fingers nervously on his desk.

  He said, “London, I can’t tell you how deeply sorry I am about what you’re going through. Of course I know that Polizeidirektor’s suspicion of you is completely unfounded. Even so, it must upset you terribly. I know it’s quite terrible for you.”

  London felt a surge of gratitude. It occurred to her that these were the first words of sympathy she’d heard from anybody since this terrible event had occurred.

  “Thank you, sir,” she said.

  “I suppose you may go for now, London,” he said. “You’ve got your own daily duties to attend to. Just be ready for—well, any eventuality.”

  “I will, sir,” London said, getting up from her chair.

  “Meanwhile, I’ll make an announcement to everybody aboard,” the captain said. “I also have to call Jeremy Lapham at corporate headquarters. He’s not going to be happy to hear all this. Another delay is going to be very hard on the company. I suppose I’d better take care of that right now.”

  London felt a pang of sympathy for the captain—and, for some reason she couldn’t quite put her finger on, a sense of personal responsibility.

  “I’ll do it,” she said.

  “Are you sure?” the captain replied.

  London nodded.

  “I appreciate it,” Captain Hays said.

  Sir Reggie trotted alongside London as she went out into the passageway and walked the short distance to her own stateroom. Sir Reggie popped through the doggie door before London could even let herself in.