The Trail of Four

by Manjiri Prabhu

  ‘With Reinhardt’s note tucked into your jacket and history pining to spill into reality? You’re kidding me!’ Isabel scoffed, her hair streaming tiny rivulets down her face and back. She shivered, skipping from one foot to the other to keep warm.

  Re laughed. ‘Okay. Hold on!’

  He delved into his pocket and extracted the plastic sheet.

  ‘All yours,’ he said cheerfully.

  Isabel rubbed her hands against her wet trousers, failing to dry them. She carefully pulled out the folded sheet of paper, clasping it delicately by the edge.

  ‘Good job. Second last to go.

  The blessings of Catherine,

  Dissolves all sin

  On the path of the pilgrim.

  Waits the old bin.

  Where flour, bread and wine seat,

  And the personal and religious meet,

  And in memory of the war brethren

  Peace and solace strengthen.’

  She read aloud and glanced at Re, a gleam of hope in her eyes. ‘It gets better and better,’ she said. ‘I know for a fact that one day, when I look back on these days, I shall particularly remember that with every clue that we unravelled, Max Reinhardt helped me overcome my despair. He made me want to live.’

  Re noticed that her eyes were moist again. Not with the rain, but with an emotion she didn’t care to control.

  ‘I understand what you mean,’ he nodded gravely.

  ‘And you were right! I need hot coffee and a heater to dry my clothes before we can tackle this clue,’ she added brightly.

  ‘Right away!’ Re grinned.

  ***

  Dan stood facing the portly man and instant dislike welled up in him. Aaren’s office was dull and lackluster, the paint of the walls peeling and the painting on the wall almost faded.

  ‘So do you have an explanation for this? Why would one of your interns named Kit call me up and claim that he knows what’s happening at the Schloss? And why would he want to exchange the information for the Hercules statue?’ Dan asked, his grey eyes boring into Aaren’s.

  ‘How do you know it was Kit?’ Aaren hedged, avoiding eye contact.

  ‘His call was traced by the police. So stop pretending that you don’t know what this is all about,’ Dan snapped.

  The director of the Schloss Forenberg sighed. ‘Sit down, please. Honestly speaking, there’s not much I can tell you. I haven’t met Kit since the day before yesterday, when he came up with this brilliant plan about recovering the Hercules statue.’

  ‘But why would you want to do that?’ Dan was puzzled.

  ‘Because Kit believes that the Hercules statue belongs to our Schloss. It should stay here. It is important to balance the energy of our Schloss. Matters at the Schloss are not very good. Finances are low and maintenance almost nil. He thought that—and I have to admit that I agreed—bringing back the statue would help.’

  Dan shook his head in incomprehension.

  ‘But that was almost like blackmail!’

  ‘I don’t know about that. The night before last, I got a call from him. He was very excited. He said he had discovered something so exciting that it would help bring the statue to Florenberg. That was the last I heard from him. I have tried to contact him since, but he isn’t responding. So I shall wait and see what he reports tomorrow during our morning meeting.’

  ‘He doesn’t have much to report, because I refused to meet him at the Café Tomaselli as he suggested. I can’t believe that you would even think of something so weird as to return the statue. Max Reinhardt bought it. It belongs at the Schloss Leopoldskron!’ Dan reminded him, exasperated.

  Aaren shrugged his ample shoulders. ‘It was a shot.’

  ‘It was a very bad shot. Think of other ways of improving the condition of Florenberg. I’ll help you if you like, but don’t resort to underhand dealings!’ Dan exclaimed.

  ‘You would?’ Aaren appeared surprised.

  ‘Why not? We aren’t rivals. We are a small community and we ought to help each other.’

  The director appeared so stunned that Dan almost laughed.

  ‘Anyway,’ he signed off, ‘I’ve said what I came to say. Warn Kit. Tell him to refrain from such childish games. And don’t ever, ever try to blackmail me!’

  Chapter 5

  Stefan stared at the note on the table for the umpteenth time.

  5th Heart Veronique AWEF MPCL

  Why had Justin placed the note in the novel? What did he know about the heart? Was that why he was killed? Who was Veronique? Was it a name of a person or a place? What did AWEF MPCL signify? Was it a mere coincidental timing or was the note in any real way connected to the happenings at the Schloss? It looked more like a code—unless it was just a scribble and didn’t mean anything at all. Which Stefan doubted completely. And most importantly, what role did Isabel play in all this? Why was she insisting that Justin was alive and why had she refused to identify the body correctly? Perhaps because she was aware she would be the first suspect? By claiming that he was alive, she could continue to feign ignorance of the crime.

  Suddenly, Stefan caught himself. He was already assuming that Isabel was a criminal. Without substantial proof. Reports from neighbors did not qualify as solid proof of a criminal. Then why was he so bent on regarding her as one? Out of the blue, his last real interaction with her surfaced in his memory. The day he had gone to meet her one last time at the B&B. He had dug out information about Justin as a precautionary measure and had visited her to share the news. But Isabel had ignored his good intentions and instead accused him of creating problems in her marriage. And then Justin had interfered and the exchange had got out of control and extremely ugly. Stefan had sworn then, never again to meet Isabel in his life. He’d been hurt and in anguish, scorned in love, and miserable. But he wasn’t so now. He could think logically and calmly. Why had he gone to her house in the first place? What had he seen in the report?

  Stefan quickly rose. Where had he kept the file? It was three years old and he must’ve discarded it out of anger. It must be somewhere, he thought, as he rummaged through the cupboards.

  ***

  ‘Re, there’s something I want to show you,’ Isabel said.

  They were sitting in the Meierhof’s café, partially dry, sipping the hot coffee. Hair completely rumpled, Isabel looked as if she had stepped out of a tussle. She swept her fingers through her tangles and Re, on an impulse, did the same.

  ‘Justin left a scribble on a piece of paper. It was slipped inside a novel, which I found the day before yesterday and handed over to Stefan, but not before I made a copy of it.’

  She slid a notepaper before him. Re pushed his spectacles back firmly and examined the sheet.

  5th Heart Veronique AWEF MPCL

  ‘But this is absolutely strange! Does he mean the same heart which was stolen on the 5th?’ he asked, surprise written on his face.

  ‘I have no clue to what this means.’ Isabel shrugged.

  ‘This needs looking into. The heart was stolen on the 5th. It can’t be a coincidence that Justin wrote down those very words on a paper. Do you have a friend or acquaintance called Veronique?’

  ‘I do, but she lives in the States. Justin can’t have meant her. He hasn’t ever met her and I myself haven’t communicated with her in years.’

  Re frowned. ‘Curious, these letters. “AWEF” and “MPCL.” What can they mean?’

  ‘They seem like two meaningless words and yet they must’ve meant something to Justin to write them down and preserve the paper.’ There was wonder in her voice.

  ‘There’s a gap between the two words, almost as if a letter is missing. What can it stand for?’

  Isabel shook her head, indicating her failure to undertand.

  ‘As far as I can figure out, either Justin knew the plan of the heart being stolen, perhaps having overheard a conversation about it,’ Re concluded. ‘Either way, the fact that he’s gone missing may make more sense now. Someone knew that he knew and probably ki
dnapped him.’

  Isabel gasped and a hand flew in a now familiar gesture to her mouth.

  ‘Which means he could be in danger,’ she remarked.

  Re placed a gentle hand on hers. He kept silent, hoping she would understand.

  ‘No! Had anything happened to him, I would’ve known, would’ve felt the pain. There’s nothing in here, no warning, no pain!’ She seemed agitated, placing a hand on her heart.

  ‘I hope so, for your sake,’ Re replied gravely. ‘Assuming that Justin knew about the plan, the note he scribbled off could mean something. What can AWEF stand for?’

  ‘It’s 11.10,’ Isabel said suddenly, glancing at her watch. ‘I wonder if Stefan has figured out which the next Pillar is.’

  ‘I’m sure he’s working on it. I have a feeling that the attacks on the Pillars will get progressively more vicious. Let me keep this note with me for a while.’

  Re pocketed the note and took out the map Isabel had drawn for him. He spread it out before them on the table. ‘First target: the house of Mozart. Second target: the St Peter’s cemetery. If we have to follow the pattern of four and draw the base line, it goes through the cathedral, past the Salzburg museum to the Mozartplatz. And if we join the line from Mozart House, it intersects at…’ Re paused.

  ‘The cathedral!’ Isabel exclaimed. ‘The main symbol of Salzburg.’

  ‘One of the oldest, right?’

  ‘Built in 774.’

  ‘The epitome of faith and culture.’

  ‘And an amazing icon of architecture. Which also has a connection to Mozart. As I told you, Mozart was baptized here and served here as an organist from 1779 to 1781.’

  ‘And the Reinhardt connection?’

  ‘Jedermann, of course! Performed every year, in summer, at the cathedral where the Salzburg Festival begins!’

  ‘Shouldn’t we tell Stefan?’

  ***

  Stefan was staring at the map on the pinboard. With a pencil he drew a triangle from the Mozart house and studied it, two lines etched on his forehead. If Re’s theory was right, then it was the Cathedral! Just this morning he had recalled the bomb squad. They had scoured the city and had come up with nothing. There was no point putting the force to task when the Pillars targeted were unusual and in a nontraditional manner.

  But as he stared at the map, his heartbeat quickened. Targetting the cathedral was a huge act with terrible consequences. He couldn’t afford to let that happen. What was the best way to target the cathedral? If water and air were used in the first two Pillars, what remained? Fire and earth! Stephan stiffened. The cathedral had undergone many fires, and had also been bombed during the war. He would ensure that the fire engines were called in.

  He glanced at his watch. 11.15. The Sunday prayer service would be on. It normally ended by 11.30 but he would have to request the priest to end the service right away. Hastily, he picked up the phone.

  ‘Kurt, this is an emergency. Get the bomb squad and our team to the cathedral at once. We haven’t a moment to waste. Clear out all the people from the cathedral immediately and get started on the detectors. Check every gap, every pillar and hole for a bomb. At no cost allow any civilians to hang around. Do you understand me?’

  When he switched off his phone, he stared for a long minute at Justin’s file on his table. It would have to wait. Isabel would have to wait.

  ***

  Re finished his coffee and folded the map, tucking it back into his jacket. The Meierhof was buzzing with activity as more guests arrived and luggage was carried into rooms and loud voices and laughter echoed through the reception area. He saw Tim Wagner head towards Parker Hall, where the seminars were held, and tea for the speakers was organized in the lounge-cum-library area. He was accompanied by deputy minister Howard Kultz and BBC correspondent Tina Armstrong, and they seemed to be engrossed in a deep discussion. Re wondered idly where the Hollanders were, and Joanna and Perth.

  The musical beeping from Isabel’s phone interrupted his observations. Worriedly, she picked it up and swiped a couple of times.

  ‘Re…’ her voice was queer.

  ‘What is it?’ His attention was caught at once.

  She angled her phone towards him, displaying the crisp message on her screen. Come as fast as you can to the crypt.

  ‘Who is it from?’ Re’s eyes narrowed in fierce concentration.

  ‘I don’t know,’ Isabel shrugged. ‘I can’t recognize the number.’

  ‘It doesn’t say what the urgency is. Send back a message and ask.’

  Isabel nodded and quickly typed the message in.

  ‘Where’s the crypt?’ Re asked.

  ‘The crypt is in the cathedral. It is called the Crypt of Bishops and is right underneath the northeastern end of the cathedral. It’s a fascinating place, a whole new world below the church. There’s even a separate chapel there and an art exhibition.’

  The phone beeped again and Isabel hastily flipped it open. The message was curt. If you want to know about your husband, be there in ten minutes!

  Isabel rose spontaneously, an expression of earnest reciprocation on her face. ‘Mein Gott, this is serious! I’ve got to go. Finally, I may have some news about Justin’s whereabouts.’

  ‘Wait, I’m coming with you,’ Re got up too.

  ‘You don’t have to.’

  ‘You’re heading to the third Pillar, on the beck and call of an anonymous tip. I think I better be there,’ Re insisted.

  ‘Okay, but I’ll drive. We’ll go faster.’

  They crossed Dan as they stepped out of the Meierhof. He looked preoccupied and barely noticed them.

  ***

  The rain had tapered into a drizzle but the earlier outburst had left the roads wet and their car threw up huge splashes of water. Re was quiet as Isabel took sharp curves expertly, her windshield wipers sweeping off the water at quick intervals. Her lips were set in a grim line, and her hands clutched the wheel a little too tightly, as she took the road along the Salzach river.

  Re punched Stefan’s number but the officer’s line was busy. The clouds rumbled, indicating more rain. The fine October weather seemed to have reached an end, he realized, and shivered.

  ‘This is Rudofskai, the quickest route to the Cathedral. Oh, there’s a parking space. We are in luck! We can walk from here,’ Isabel said as she slid the car expertly in the parking space.

  Some minutes later, they hastened past the Salzburg Museum towards the Domplatz. Tourists still swamped the streets, their colourful umbrellas bobbing through the market.

  ‘Wait, what’s that?’ Re queried.

  They had just stepped into the statuesque, widespread Plaza. The cathedral stood tall and elegant, with its marble façade, two twin towers crowned with green domes and the main huge dome. At least four police vans, two ambulances and a fire engine were stationed outside the Cathedral. It was a rather ominous sight and Re sensed that a shadow of dread loomed over the grand cathedral. Uniformed men were politely nudging the crowds out of it.

  ‘Looks like Stefan worked it out,’ Re gauged.

  ‘Sunday mornings are very busy at the cathedral. The prayer service is always a huge thing for the Salzburgers. I think Stefan must’ve barged into the service and put a halt to it.’

  ‘But how do we get in now?’

  ‘This way—’ Isabel held his hand and quickly led him through a side entrance into the grand church. Hiding behind the huge white marble pillars, she quickly cut her way across the massive interior.

  The grandeur of the church, built in the shape of a cross, struck Re anew. The tall domes, the contrast between the white and orange of the murals and paintings, the massive pillars and altarpiece made up one of the finest works of baroque art in the world of worship, awe-inspiring and yet tranquil. Re wished he had the time to stop, stare—and pray.

  ‘Ma’am, this is an emergency, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave.’ An officer stalled an enormous lady in a printed dress trying to resist his order.

 
‘Oh, but I leave Salzburg in half-an-hour,’ she whined. ‘This is a must-see on my list,’ she insisted, speaking German in an alien accent.

  ‘Oh, I don’t doubt that, ma’am. But I’m afraid I have orders to evacuate,’ the policeman reiterated, courteously.

  Re didn’t wait to hear more. He could see uniformed men swarming through the vast interior, already set to work. In the far end, near the imposing altar, he spotted the tall figure of Stefan, talking to some of his men. Re ducked out of his line of vision.

  ‘This way,’ Isabel whispered and quickly slipped through a wide side entrance, towards a flight of stairs heading into darkness.

  A group of officers, carrying metal detectors, clattered up the stairs just then and came face to face. One of them halted and turned to Isabel deliberately.

  ‘Ma’am, you can’t go in there,’ the policeman stated firmly.

  Isabel did not bat an eyelid. ‘I understand. I am Isabel and this is Re. We are with Officer Stefan Weiss, investigating the case. We are just going in to check out a hunch and we’ll be right back.’

  The policeman hesitated for a fraction of a second. He looked pointedly in the direction of his senior and as if on cue, Stefan’s gaze skimmed over them. Isabel instantly waved and smiled, acknowledging his presence. Stefan frowned but nodded. The policeman intercepted the cursory exchange, and changed his stance.

  ‘All right, but please make it quick. We are evacuating the entire cathedral for safety reasons. You do understand the gravity of the situation?’ He glanced from Isabel to Re.

  ‘We understand, thank you,’ Isabel cut in smoothly.

  The policeman nodded and trailed after his colleagues. Re suppressed a smile as he followed the historian down the stairs into the dark interiors, dimly lit by candles and wall lights. She turned right into a passage where the dugout rocks formed an uneven interior. On the left, amidst rubble and exposed rock, stood a wooden crucifix with the impaled figure of Jesus.

  ‘Amazing place, isn’t it? It’s cut right into the bedrock of the mountain and you can see these exposed rocks. You’ll find them all through the crypt. The cathedral is partly based on the foundation of the old basilica, the Romanesque Virgil Cathedral. You can still see the foundation stones. The ancient relics of Saint Rupert were brought here when the cathedral was completed. Right in front is a chapel and on either side is the crypt where the bishops are buried.’