‘Hey, you don’t need to apologize,’ Re assured her quickly. ‘Love—l’amour—can be all encompassing. Tout-a-fait! Especially for one that you fear you may lose.’
Isabel nodded. ‘Thank you for understanding. So, back to the chase? Let’s look at what we have here:
‘Right across from my heart and soul,
On the curve of the mirror, lies the goal.
As the postcard of beauty, lies on the ancient tree
The rocking path leads to where the four touch the sky free.’
‘Rings a bell?’ he asked.
‘Ancient tree…hmmm…there’s one ancient tree that I know of and that’s on the Festung HohenSalzburg, the fortress. There’s an old lime tree in the courtyard which is said to be several hundred years old. It can definitely be called ancient.’
‘That could be it. “Postcard of beauty lies on the ancient tree”—I think this could mean that the tree is picturesque, like a postcard, or affords a picturesque view. Is there any such view from the fortress?’
‘Oh, there are views galore on the Festung! You can see the entire Salzburg town from up there. “The rocky path” could mean the path that hikers take to walk up to the fortress whose spires reach to the sky!’ A glint of excitement reappeared in her now animated eyes. ‘Sounds probable, doesn’t it?’
‘Hmm…what about “the curve of mirror?” What can it mean? A big mirror? Something that’s round and reflects?’
‘Yes!’ Isabel exclaimed. ‘The fortress well, which dates back to the 1500s! I think that’s it! We’ve found the next spot.’
‘I think we have. Do we have to walk to the fortress?’
‘You can if you like. But I prefer the funicular,’ Isabel smiled.
Once more it struck Re how different she looked when she smiled. Out of the blue, he recalled the way she had avoided looking at Stefan and wondered about it.
‘It’s just two minutes walking distance from here to the funicular; we don’t need the car,’ she said.
Re nodded and followed her as she briskly crossed the Domplatz and headed through the Kapitelplatz to Festungsgasse.
‘The Festung is one of the best-preserved fortresses in Europe. From 1077, when construction began, till date, it has a colourful history and has been used both as a residence and a prison. If we had the time, I would’ve taken you on a tour of the rooms—they are magnificent. There are at least three museums up there.’
‘Isn’t entire of Salzburg a kind of museum?’ Re observed. ‘Everywhere you go, there are these old walls and ancient structures dating back to forever. It’s a museum of immovable history.’
Isabel stopped and stared at Re for a moment. ‘You’re right. It is a big museum. But then so is Paris. Enchanting and mesmerizing. And so many monuments in India are proof of stunning ancient architecture.’
‘Yes, of course,’ he agreed. ‘But Paris is like a polished jewel, and India a huge treasure still to be really discovered. Salzburg somehow represents the uncut, raw and natural. Including your flourmill, now a B&B, and your beautiful chapel.’
Isabel nodded, her eyes suddenly clouding. Re realized his mistake in a flash. He had evoked her husband’s memory again, he thought with regret. She turned away without a word and began walking briskly forward till they passed a tunnel of sorts and entered the lobby of the funicular.
Re dug his hand into his pocket for his wallet. ‘Allow me to pay,’ he requested.
‘Why?’ She raised an eyebrow archly. ‘I’ll pay for my ticket, thank you.’
‘Well, okay,’ he shrugged.
The funicular was crowded and they moved to a corner as it chugged up the hill, the city growing smaller and smaller beneath them. Another red cable car passed them, packed with tourists. Once at the top, the glass doors slid open and the crowd spilled out. Isabel led the way to the fortress courtyard. A thick wall divided the sprawling town below from the dominating fortress. A slow whistle escaped Re’s lips.
‘Yeah. It’s a great view, all right,’ said Isabel, reading his thoughts.
‘Magnifique!’ he said, for the umpteenth time.
The old town of Salzburg spread out beneath them, a combination of green sloping roofs, domes, pathways that threaded between aged buildings and the Salzach river which cut its way between the old and new town.
‘It’s a nice view, but you have to see the view from the Gaisberg, our town mountain. It’s my favourite place for hiking. When it’s clear and sunny, the view is amazing!’ Isabel told him.
‘Perhaps you can take me to Gaisberg one of these days,’ he suggested, his eye to the viewer on the camera, as he clicked multiple photos.
‘Perhaps.’ She squinted at him, as the sun glinted in her eyes. ‘Do you have to keep taking photos?’
‘I’m afraid I do. It’s une habitude. Comment dit-on, a compulsion! I’m a filmmaker, a photographer, which means that I slide into every picture I take, absorb and learn all that I have to and slide out again. It makes me a master of that particular area.’
‘Interesting. A little like what I do when I research. I call history a lifeline. Historical facts and articles bind me to the lifeline that was, and will affect our future, in ways we cannot fathom or foresee.’
‘Absolument! So, with your permission, may I continue to take pictures?’ Re asked, his brown eyes smiling from behind his glasses.
Isabel nodded, a smile lifting her lips again.
‘If you wish to slide into Salzburg and absorb and learn about my city, then who am I to stop you? But of course, you should let me do the same when I visit India, which by the way is my favourite dream-destination!’ In her T-shirt and with her tousled blonde hair, with an impish grin on her face, she looked almost like a happy teenager. Almost…
For a moment, Re was distracted. He had struggled all his life to stay away from his father, and his trips to India were fraught with the dreaded compulsion of meeting him. The day he dissociated his feelings for India from his feelings for his father, he would really be able to appreciate his country, he thought idly. Till then, Paris would still be his home.
‘Come on, let’s cut through this passage. The lime tree is on the other side of the fortress, in the courtyard.’
Re followed her mutely, still clicking some quick pictures of the landscape. They passed a ‘World of Puppets’ museum and he had a glimpse of colour, monitors and swirling figures. Recorded voices and a song from The Sound of Music echoed inside. They crossed the museum and headed along an earthen passage lined with barred windows. Stepping out into the open again, they strode towards the courtyard. And there stood the lime tree, strong and auburn gold, reaching for the sky, like a guardian angel of the fortress. A lazy breeze lifted its leaves and sprinkled them on to the ground.
‘Here we are!’ Isabel announced.
Re stopped, gazing up at the tree. ‘It’s beautiful. Like a person with strength and character.’
‘It is, isn’t it? I’m quite fond of it, actually.’
‘But, wait a minute. Now that we are here…’ Re paused.
He glanced around him, taking in the sunlit cobbled path, the windows in the thick wall on the left and auburngold leaves. Isabel stared at him, waiting patiently for him to comment.
‘I know what’s missing. We didn’t consider one very important aspect of the clue.’
‘What’s that?’
‘What about “right across my heart and soul?”’
For a moment, Isabel’s eyes gazed past him, in contemplative reflection. Re could almost sense the churning of her thoughts, assessing his words.
‘That’s right,’ she agreed, finally. ‘Everything else fits with the fortress, but “heart and soul?” Reinhardt’s heart and soul has got to be the Schloss Leopoldskron.’
‘Precisely. So, we need to rework this, right? Assuming that the heart and soul is the Schloss, what would the curve of the mirror be?’
‘The lake!’ Isabel’s eyes began to shine again.
‘C’est
ça. And it is right across from my heart and soul. Which means it is the other side of the lake, where it curves and where we may find a particular ancient tree.’
‘Makes sense. And now that we are at it, it’s not “rocky” path but “rocking” path. You would have to take a boat!’ Isabel exclaimed.
‘Yes, a boat,’ Re repeated, sensing the excitement mounting inside them both.
‘When Max Reinhardt invited all his guests, they were ferried across the lake in gondolas. How romantic and beautiful is that? And just perfect for our clue,’ she remarked, her voice rising in enthusiasm.
‘And the picture postcard must be the view of the Schloss and the Meierhof,’ Re continued. ‘But wait, it says “where the four touch the sky free”. There are only two mansions there.’
‘No, no, it’s perfect. When you look at the Schloss from across the lake, you can also spot the fortress in two parts, one part behind the Schloss and one behind the Meierhof.’
‘Parfait! Let’s head back then.’ Re could barely curb his excitement.
Luckily, the next funicular was about to leave and the two of them ran to catch it. Isabel was quiet on the way down and Re chose, too, to keep his silence. It was when they were exiting the cable car, that Re spotted him. A man in a brown cardigan. The journalist frowned. Wasn’t this the same man he had spotted outside the B&B? Was it mere coincidence that he should spot the same man twice in one morning? Re pushed forward, trying to keep the stranger within sight, but the crowd surged out and within seconds, the man in the brown cardigan had disappeared.
‘What happened?’ Isabel asked, as she caught up.
‘Rien. Thought I saw someone I knew.’ Re preferred to keep his suspicion to himself.
‘Oh, all right. I wish you’d let me bring my car. We could’ve gone much faster. You are too cautious a driver,’ Isabel muttered as she led the way out of the lobby and along the cobbled street.
‘That’s because I’m not familiar with the streets here,’ Re pointed out. ‘But next time, if you like, we’ll take your car.’
Despite his claim, Re almost speeded all the way back to the Schloss, zipping past cars and taking sharp curves.
‘Hey, forget what I said! Take it easy, we don’t want to plunge into the lake,’ Isabel said finally.
Re grinned. ‘You asked for it, so now live it!’
‘Oh, that’s a new one! I like it,’ she responded, pleased with a saying unfamiliar to her.
‘Thank you. And here we are!’ Re drove through the gates of the Schloss and stopped in the parking lot. He was mildly aware that the strained feeling between them had disappeared, to be replaced by another strange kind of friendly sentiment. The beginning of a camaraderie.
They headed towards the road around the lake. It was a beautiful path strewn with a colourful carpet of red and yellow leaves. The white and grey swans sent ripples through the green water, as they glided in a straight line across the lake.
‘Keep a look-out for an ancient tree. Which, as you can see, isn’t going to be easy since this entire path is bordered with trees,’ Re said.
‘Yes, beautiful isn’t it? But I’m sure the tree we seek will be closer towards the centre, if we want a view of all the four structures,’ Isabel replied, practically.
They passed couples walking their dogs and young mothers pushing prams. Joggers with headphones, lost in their own world, and cyclists with tinkling bells. It was an atmosphere of lazy calm. A calm which had nothing to do with his vision, the stolen heart, or the Pillars of Salzburg which would be destroyed. A message from Max Reinhardt? It was unthinkable and unimaginable. He almost laughed. For one brief moment, Re longed to be back home in Paris, settled on his favourite couch, eating asparagus, watching the Eiffel Tower twinkle in the evening, like a bride in full finery. But it was a fleeting desire and it was gone in a jiffy.
‘Look, how about that one?’ Isabel pointed to a tree with a thick moss-covered trunk. ‘It has a perfect view.’
Re gazed across the lake, at the mesmerizing sight. The Schloss almost seemed to touch the water with its reflection glittering in the afternoon sun. On its left stood the pinkshaded Meierhof and right behind them, rose the Fortress. It was a perfect picture of Four.
‘The four reaching to the sky free’, he quoted.
Isabel nodded.
‘But let’s just walk a little ahead, for a central view. Look!’ she shouted.
She broke into a run, sprinting towards the lake. Even before Re reached it, he knew they had found the right tree. It was an unusual one, completely bent from the root base and leaning right over the lake. The branches spread out like a huge gnarled hand. From between the branches, the Schloss and its companions were as clearly visible as if someone had painted them into the landscape. A clump of tall red-leaved chestnut trees separated the Meierhof from the off-white stately palace.
‘The postcard that lies on the ancient tree,’ Isabel repeated, her voice soft and filled with respect.
‘This is the one,’ Re confirmed. ‘This tree faces the Schloss and has direct access to the terrace. This is probably where the gondolas were kept.’
For the shortest moment, they remained hushed. Re could imagine the glory of the Reinhardt era in one swift moment. The slim gondolas waiting, the olive-green shimmering water gently lapping at their sides, the finely dressed guests climbing out unhurriedly from their cars and being ferried across the stretch of the charming lake.
‘And in the evenings, there would be torches on the banks, illuminating the way, forming a necklace of light,’ Isabel spoke as if reading his mind. ‘What beauty, what imagination and what vision!’
The pride in her voice was obvious.
‘And what extravaganza!’ Re added with a cheeky grin. ‘Come on, back to work. You take the trunk of the tree, I’ll go for the branches in the lake.’
Re rolled up his jeans and stepped into the water, disturbing the stack of brown leaves which had settled complacently all along the branches of the tree.
‘You sure?’ Isabel raised an enquiring eyebrow.
‘If the swans can swim in the lake, so can I,’ Re returned with a half-smile.
The next few minutes, the two silently examined the tree for hiding places. Re checked between the branches, tapping and feeling the roughened moss-covered surface.
‘Can we assume that this tree stood straight when Reinhardt hid his clue?’ Isabel wondered.
‘I don’t think so. I think it originally grew this way, leaning so low over the lake, which is probably why Reinhardt chose it in the first place. For its uniqueness. It’s so distinctly different.’
‘Yes, kind of graceful and artistic, yet melancholy and sort of lonely,’ Isabel agreed.
Re glanced at her. She was sitting astride the trunk, tapping it and scraping away the moss. A light frownline showed between her eyebrows. With her tousled hair and slim figure, she could easily pass for an energetic teenager out on an adventure. Except that she wasn’t. She was a mature woman, with a complex behaviour pattern which Re realized he was finding interesting to decipher.
‘Re,’ her voice sounded peculiar. ‘I think I’ve found it… but it looks jammed.’
He immediately sloshed through the water and hastened to where she was scraping at the trunk.
‘Look at this. It looks like a cut in the trunk, doesn’t it? From all four sides?’
‘It does,’ he agreed, his breath suddenly short.
He delved into his pocket and extracted a Swiss knife. With swift fingers, he scraped away the moss from the edges and dug into the crevice on all the sides, plunging deeper into the thick base of the trunk. When he felt that he had managed to create a gap, he tried to pry the edges open, like the lid of a box. The next instant, the wood cracked and a chip snapped open.
Re and Isabel exchanged excited glances.
‘Be careful,’ Isabel warned, her voice a whisper.
Cautiously, Re pushed his knife into the opening, and the wooden lid lifted
of its own. It was a deep square pit on the side of the trunk and inside it, nicely warm and safe, nestled a faded oilskin roll.
‘Wow!’ Isabel expelled her breath. ‘Reinhardt took good care of protecting the notes from the Salzburg weather.’
Re seated himself beside her on the trunk.
‘You do the honours,’ he said, handing the oilskin roll to her.
‘Thank you, would love to!’
Her fingers trembled just slightly, as she extracted the folded note from the oilskin cover.
‘Well, well. This is great. Slow and steady wins the race.
Sucked into the Cat’s Meow, where the fours play,
And that’s the one that inclines the way.’
Isabel stopped and took in a deep steadying breath.
‘I feel overwhelmed by this.’ Her voice was low and heavy. ‘I’m not sure I’m the right person to follow this Trail.’
‘I agree, you are too emotional and involved,’ Re replied gravely.
‘What?’ she glanced up at him startled and saw the wicked look on his face.
‘You asked for it, so you live it!’ he grinned.
‘That wasn’t funny!’ she exclaimed but there was laughter in her voice. She abruptly glanced at her watch. ‘Re, it’s 11.45! What’s going to happen at noon, do you think?’
Re shook his head. ‘Something for sure.’ He stared out at the Schloss, dappled in the afternoon sun and at the long expanse of water mirroring the two buildings in complete detail. ‘I think we should call Dan. I need to know what’s happening with him.’
‘If Dan hasn’t called, it means nothing’s happening. It’s all been a hollow threat. It was just some fun that Max Reinhardt had planned. He didn’t really mean to blow up the monuments of Salzburg. He loved the town!’ Isabel said with a sudden spurt of optimism.
‘He didn’t mean to destroy anything but someone else does. Someone who stole the Archbishop’s heart to prove a point. To send a message that he meant business. Something will happen at noon, somewhere, somehow.’
Isabel glanced at Re with frank curiosity. ‘You never told me why you turned up here. Dan casually described your presence here as lucky. But that’s not entirely true, is it?’ she asked with sudden insight.
The Trail of Four Page 9
