The Secret Crown

by Chris Kuzneski

  ‘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 sa
ying 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 Fabergé 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 Küsendorf 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.’