The Secret Crown

by Chris Kuzneski

  Kaiser pondered the security. ‘That doesn’t sound good.’

  ‘Actually,’ Payne said, ‘it doesn’t matter how many guards are in the treasury. This document isn’t in the treasury. If it’s already been discovered, Petr would have heard of it.’

  ‘That is true,’ Ulster claimed. ‘Unfortunately, the treasury would be a lot easier to explore than the garden itself. Like everything Ludwig built, the Winter Garden was stunning. Inside a massive greenhouse was a man-made lake, a Himalayan mountain scene, Indian huts, a rainbow machine and tropical plants from around the world. The servants who lived in the rooms underneath the lake had to sleep under umbrellas because of all the dripping water. I’ve seen pictures of the garden, and I’m telling you, it was remarkable. Like an indoor jungle.’

  Payne focused on one word in particular. ‘Was?’

  Ulster nodded. ‘The Winter Garden was demolished right after the king’s death. Its weight was so great it actually bent the beams in the palace walls.’

  Jones sighed at the news. He had been hoping to see the place. ‘You’re right: option three sucks. It’s tough to explore something that’s no longer there.’

  ‘Let’s be honest,’ Payne said. ‘None of these options are great. I mean, we’re talking about three castles that have been toured by millions of people. Do you really think we’re going to stroll in and spot something that everyone else has missed in the last a hundred and twenty years?’

  ‘Of course not,’ Ulster said as he held up his grandfather’s journal. ‘Thankfully, we have a lot more to go on than good old-fashioned luck. We actually have a detailed set of instructions. All we have to do is find the starting line, and this journal will do the rest.’

  It took a few seconds for the comment to sink in. Once it did, Payne shook his head in disbelief. Leave it to Ulster to wait so long before he revealed something so vital to the group. One of these days, Payne was going to have to teach Ulster how to start off with the most important news before he went off on his tangents – just in case Ulster died of old age before he finished his background information.

  Payne laughed to himself. ‘In that case, what are we waiting for? Let’s go and find Ludwig’s treasure.’

  22

  Mount Schachen

  Bavaria, Germany

  In Kaiser’s world, there were very few guarantees when it came to money: deals frequently collapsed at the last minute; long-time associates often tried to screw him for table scraps; and rivals always looked for opportunities to steal his clients or get him in trouble with the police. Being in the business for as long as he had, Kaiser had learned many lessons along the way. One of the most important was the danger of greed. Early in his career, he had lost plenty of money because of his recklessness. Like a gambler who refused to pocket his winnings, Kaiser used to take too many risks when the smart play was to walk away. But all that changed a few years ago when he lost millions of dollars worth of merchandise in a warehouse fire. Instead of selling the goods to a trusted customer who had offered a fair price, Kaiser had tried to leverage a better deal for himself by negotiating with an unsavoury character from the Russian mafia. The whole thing fell apart when the two clients found out about each other. To this day, Kaiser still didn’t know which of them had torched his warehouse – although he assumed it was the Russian – but from that point on, he decided to minimize his risks whenever he could.

  With that in mind, Kaiser skipped the next leg of the journey to protect his discovery. While Payne, Jones and Ulster flew to the top of Mount Schachen to search for the location of Ludwig’s treasure, Kaiser made travel arrangements for the gold they had already found.

  Known as the Königshaus am Schachen in German, the King’s House on Schachen took three years to build (1869–1872) because all the supplies had to be carted up the mountain. A lover of the outdoors, Ludwig chose this site for the spectacular views of the surrounding peaks and for its isolation. Thousands of feet above civilization, the two-storey alpine cottage was Ludwig’s sanctuary anytime he wanted to escape the politics and prying eyes of Munich. Up here among the clouds, he used to fantasize about starting his own kingdom across the sea, a modern-day Camelot where he would build the most spectacular castle the world had ever seen.

  As the pilot circled the ridge line looking for a place to land, Payne and Jones, staring out of the chopper’s windows, were filled with disappointment. After hearing so many stories about Ludwig’s opulence, they had been expecting the cottage to rival the Taj Mahal. Instead, they saw a plain, wooden structure that looked like a hunting lodge.

  Jones spoke into his headset. ‘If that’s the outhouse, where’s the King’s House?’

  ‘I’m afraid you’re looking at it,’ Ulster replied from the front seat. ‘But don’t let the exterior fool you. The interior is far more lavish.’

  ‘That’s not saying much, because the outside looks like a shed.’

  Payne cracked a smile. ‘A shed with a hell of a view.’

  ‘Good point,’ Jones admitted.

  ‘If we flew a little higher, you could see Austria. We’re just north of its border,’ Ulster said as he stared at Mount Dreitorspitze of the Wetterstein Mountains.

  ‘Isn’t that kind of stupid?’ Payne asked out of the blue.

  Ulster turned in his seat. ‘What are you referring to?’

  Payne answered. ‘The placement of this cabin. I mean, if I’m a Bavarian general, there’s no way in hell I’d let Ludwig build a house this close to a foreign border. Look at the surrounding peaks. This area is indefensible.’

  Jones nodded in agreement. ‘Jon makes a valid point. Set a few explosives on the top of that ridge, and the resulting landslide would have wiped out the king.’

  ‘Not only that,’ Payne said, ‘but if the Austrians had wanted to kidnap Ludwig, they could have done so with ease. What do you think, DJ? Three, maybe four men at most?’

  In less than a second, Jones ran through several scenarios in his head. When it came to planning missions, he was a strategic genius – the type of guy who played chess when everyone else was playing checkers. ‘Give me four men and a cloudy night, and I could’ve nabbed more than Ludwig. I could’ve stolen his house, too.’

  Payne laughed. ‘Actually, that sounds kind of fun. Let’s do that instead of Oktoberfest.’

  ‘Petr,’ Jones said with a straight face, ‘can we borrow your helicopter tonight? I promise we’ll pay for the gas.’

  The Swiss pilot, who had heard the entire conversation through his headphones, glanced at Ulster. Tension filled the pilot’s face. ‘Sir?’

  Ulster patted him on the shoulder. ‘Relax, Baptiste. They’re only kidding.’

  Ulster paused, then glanced back at Payne and Jones. ‘You are kidding, aren’t you?’

  To minimize attention – which was tough to do in a helicopter – the pilot landed on top of a rocky plateau approximately 200 yards below the King’s House. A grass-covered hill that looked like the backdrop for The Sound of Music separated them from the cottage.

  As they strolled up the meadow towards the main entrance, Payne focused on a cluster of buildings in the valley behind the King’s House. Their light grey roofs blended perfectly with the surrounding rock face, minimizing their presence in the alpine scenery.

  Payne pointed at the compound. ‘What’s over there?’

  ‘That’s the Schachenhaus restaurant,’ Ulster answered without even looking. ‘In addition, there are several guest cabins for those inclined to spend the night.’

  ‘People do that?’ Jones asked as he shivered in his long-sleeved shirt. It was fifteen degrees colder than it had been when he boarded the chopper a few minutes earlier.

  Ulster grinned. ‘For most people, it’s a lengthy hike to reach this site. After a four-hour climb, I’d be tempted to stay myself.’

  ‘But it’s cold up here,’ Jones complained.

  ‘Hardly!’ Ulster said, laughing. To prove his point, he took a deep breath and exhaled it sl
owly. ‘Smell that mountain air! It reminds me of Küsendorf.’

  ‘Really?’ Jones mumbled to himself. ‘It reminds me of Siberia.’

  Familiar with Jones’s hatred of the cold, Payne decided to change the topic before Jones started to bitch. Because once that started, it was hard to stop.

  ‘So,’ Payne said to Ulster, ‘tell us more about the gartenhaus. It would probably be helpful if we knew what we were looking for.’

  Ulster nodded in agreement. ‘According to my grandfather, Ludwig used a riddle to conceal the location. All we have to do is solve it, and we should be able to find the document.’

  Payne smiled. ‘You make it sound so easy.’

  ‘Well, I don’t know about easy, but I think we have a decent—’

  Jones interrupted him. ‘What’s the riddle?’

  Ulster laughed at his oversight. ‘Yes! That would be helpful, wouldn’t it? Obviously the original version was written in Bavarian – or some kind of Austro-Bavarian dialect – which my grandfather eventually translated into Austrian German. That’s the language he spoke prior to moving to Switzerland. Later in life, he—’

  ‘Petr!’ Jones blurted. ‘You’re giving me a headache. Just tell us the riddle.’

  Ulster blushed. ‘Sorry, David. I’m just excited.’

  Jones immediately felt guilty and softened his tone. ‘And we’re excited, too. We really are. But we can’t help if you don’t tell us the riddle.’

  Ulster nodded in understanding. Most of the time they humoured him and let him ramble on and on, but even a long-winded historian like Ulster realized that some situations called for brevity. And this was one of those times. Without any further introduction or additional background information, he honoured their request and revealed the riddle.

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

  23

  Krueger couldn’t believe his luck. First the surprising appearance of Petr Ulster, and now this. Obviously, something significant was going on, and it was his job to figure out what. After three years of doing small jobs for Hans Mueller, he hoped this would be his ticket out.

  Not that Krueger hated the Oberbayern region of Germany – it certainly had its charm. But ever since he had left the 10th Armoured Division of the German Army, he had always wanted to work in a larger city. Perhaps Frankfurt or Berlin. Or even Cologne. At this point, anything would be better than a seasonal town like Garmisch-Partenkirchen. The only time he saw local action was during the winter months when the big spenders rolled into town for skiing and Mueller needed extra protection to conduct business meetings on the slopes.

  Other than that, Krueger was forced to fend for himself for six months a year. He ran a small crew of his own – mostly ex-military types – specializing in break-ins and broken legs. Occasionally, when they were desperate for cash, they would steal a few cars and sell them to an Austrian associate who took them across the border before they were even reported missing. The money paid their rent for a few months and bought them plenty of beer, but in the grand scheme of things, Krueger realized the risks he took were never worth the reward.

  For several weeks, Krueger had been looking for a way to make a name for himself, a way to get noticed by Mueller or one of his top lieutenants. He had considered all types of jobs, including a bank heist in Düsseldorf, an art theft in Stuttgart and a kidnapping in Dresden. Amazingly, during his legwork and advanced planning, he had never expected a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to surface in his own backyard. And yet, he was staring at it through his binoculars.

  If he pulled this off, he’d be a legend overnight.

  Kaiser’s plan was simple: get the gold off the mountain as quickly as possible.

  Once it was safely on its way to one of his secure facilities, Kaiser would worry about the van Gogh crate and all the other heirlooms that Ulster wanted to transport to the Archives for documentation. After that, Kaiser didn’t care what happened to the items – whether Ulster returned them to the rightful owners, donated them to a museum or sold everything on eBay. As long as no one mentioned the gold or his involvement to the authorities, Kaiser would walk away with the biggest score of his life, the type of payday that would allow him to retire.

  He could practically taste the piña coladas already.

  As for Ludwig’s mythical treasure, it sounded like more trouble than it was worth – especially to someone who shunned the spotlight as he did. If Payne and Jones found something of value, Kaiser would gladly take his share, as long as it could be handled far from the public eye. The last thing he needed was his name and picture in every newspaper round the world. That’s what had happened to Payne and Jones when they found the Greek treasure, and they had been struggling with the attention ever since.

  For a man like Kaiser, that type of notoriety would be a death sentence.

  No, as far as he was concerned, he was more than willing to sell the gold and retire with a brand new Ferrari. Or twelve.

  Krueger had gasped when he saw Kaiser’s face through his binoculars. Not only was Petr Ulster involved, but so was Mueller’s biggest rival. Could this get any better?

  In the world of smuggling, Kaiser was king and Mueller sought his crown.

  If Krueger played his cards right, he would be set for life.

  Within minutes, he had summoned his local crew. Within the hour, they were dressed in camouflage and ready for battle. None of them knew the numbers they faced or the prize they were fighting for, but they trusted Krueger’s leadership and feared Mueller’s wrath.

  For henchmen, that was all the motivation they needed.

  Using two-way radios for communication, they entered the woods in pairs. Two men went to the left, and two to the right. Meanwhile, Krueger stayed near the base of the mountain. His job was to call the shots while keeping his eye on the helicopter parked near the path. Earlier there had been two choppers in the field, but one of them – carrying Ulster, his pilot and two other men – had flown up the mountain before Krueger’s crew had arrived.

  As far as he was concerned, the timing was perfect.

  Suddenly, there were four fewer men to worry about.

  And Kaiser had stayed behind.

  The crate of gold was far too heavy to carry up the ladder by hand. To hoist that much weight, a series of pulleys had to be rigged up. While two of Kaiser’s men fiddled with the equipment, the other three stayed hidden in the trees, keeping a close eye on the site.

  Initially, Kaiser had considered carrying the gold out one bar at a time and repacking the crate outside. It certainly would have been quicker than building a winch. He had already made two trips on the off-road utility vehicle that had hauled most of their supplies – one to the chopper to retrieve a toolkit and a second trip to arrange the truck that would take the gold to his warehouse. But after giving it some thought, Kaiser had decided the extra time was worth it if it prevented his men from knowing what was inside the crate. Even though he trusted them, the sight of that much gold could do strange things to a man’s psyche. And the last thing he wanted was a setback of any kind, especially with this much money at stake.

  ‘How much longer?’ Kaiser asked his men.

  One of them answered. ‘Five minutes at most.’

  ‘Before you haul up the crate, put some extra nails in the lid. It’s a bumpy ride down the mountain, and I don’t want it popping open en route.’

  ‘Yes, sir.’

  Kaiser stared at the device they were building. It didn’t look sturdy to him. ‘Actually, before you even touch the crate, I want you to test this contraption out.’

  ‘On what, sir?’

  ‘On Hogzilla. If it can handle the pig, it can handle the crate.’

  As far as Krueger was concerned, the biggest stroke of luck had occurred during his early-morning call to Mueller. At the end of their conversation, Krueger had asked Mueller how often he wanted to be updated on the situation, and Mueller had told him that he was heading into an important meeting and didn’t
want to be disturbed for the next several hours.

  Mueller had even used the phrase no matter what.

  At the time, it didn’t seem important since the odds were pretty slim that anything significant would happen before lunch. After all, Ulster had arrived that morning, and the other chopper had been around all weekend. Krueger had assumed this would drag on all day.

  Of course, Kaiser’s presence was a game changer.

  Normally, Krueger would have been required to notify Mueller, who would have taken control and flown in an outside crew to make sure things were handled properly. If Krueger was lucky, he would have been given a finder’s fee and a pat on the back. Certainly not a new position in the organization. But thanks to Mueller’s explicit instruction, Krueger could handle the situation however he saw fit.

  And in his mind, that meant two things.

  A gun in his hand and a bullet in Kaiser’s brain.

  24

  As they walked up the meadow towards the King’s House, Payne repeated the riddle to make sure he had heard it correctly. ‘Where would a swan go on his journey home?’

  Ulster nodded. ‘Any thoughts?’

  ‘Yeah,’ Jones cracked, ‘Ludwig liked swans way too much.’

  ‘I told you he was obsessed.’

  ‘I know you did, but I think it’s weird. I mean, swans don’t even taste good. You know how people say most things taste like chicken? Well, swans don’t. They taste like shit.’