Cherubs, Sculptures, bird and 3 humans keep watch over the core,
Even as the mirrors, like Cheaters, will glaze the real McCoy of four.’
Re read the clue aloud.
‘Reinhardt seems to have kept the toughest clue for the last.’ Isabel sighed.
‘Doesn’t it bring anything at all to mind? The dark tunnel—isn’t there that tunnel which we passed several times since yesterday?’
‘You mean Sigmund’s Gate. It connects the Altstadt with the Riedenburg district and claims to be the oldest tunnel in Austria.’
‘That could be the tunnel we’re looking for, couldn’t it? It does open into the light,’ Re prompted.
‘Opens into the Herbert von Karajan Square with the Horse Pond,’ Isabel replied, contemplating the possibility. ‘The pond was once upon a time stables for the horses, and the backdrop for the pond, or the façade as we call it, was designed in 1693 by Johann Bernhard Fischer von Erlach.’
‘Cherubs, sculptures, bird?’ Re persisted, hoping to jog her grey cells.
‘Well, it does have all these murals of the horses, and a sculpture called the Horse Tamer by Michael Bernhard Mandl, right in the middle of the pond.’
‘And “where angels of yore have stilled their wise flight?”’
Isabel was quiet for a moment, fiddling with the empty coffee cup. Then her hand stilled. ‘I don’t know if you would describe them as angels, but there are two angel-like figures right on top of the central painting of the horse pond. The paintings were done by Josef Ebner on the rear wall. Like I said, there’s a sculpture of a man reigning in a horse right in the middle of the pond. And men in the central painting too. Together they would make 3 men!’
‘Men watching over the core,’ Re remarked. Excitement began to build inside him. ‘But what about some kind of a Reinhardt connection? Why would Reinhardt chose this spot to hide the gift?’
‘Perhaps because the Horse Pond was restored in 1732 by Archbishop Firmian?’
‘Oh, then, that must be it! Because the mirrors like cheaters would probably represent the pond water, glazing the real McCoy of four. The gift is in the pond!’ Re rose even as he spoke, his eyes sparkling.
Isabel followed suit. ‘The rain has stopped. That’s a good omen.’
‘Good omens began the moment you agreed to help with the Trail.’
Isabel looked enigmatic, picked up the car keys and headed out of the door into the street.
The night was cool and wet and an eerie silence seemed to have descended over the city. Isabel took the wheel and drove silently, deep in her own thoughts. Re wondered what was happening at the Schloss. Had the party begun? He knew that the police and security were already stationed within the Schloss premises. And Stefan would certainly be there, very much in charge, flaunting his no-nonsense attitude. Out of the blue, he experienced a wave of weariness. They were so close to the finish now, he thought, as he leaned against his seat and closed his eyes. But were they really? Would the gift really end this dangerous destructive charade?
‘Here we are!’ Isabel announced, breaking into Re’s thoughts.
The Horse Pond was a lavish affair in the square, set against the high Mönchsberg wall. A grand façade of ten panels with paintings of large rearing horses, were now lit up with special lights. In the forefront was the balustrade which cordoned off the green pond in the centre of which stood Horse Tamer, that intricate sculpture of a man reigning in an unbroken animal. It was difficult to imagine this beautiful structure as horse stables those many years ago. A green projection on the surface of the Mönchsberg wall, alluded to a very surreal image of the entire pond.
Re descended from the car and stood contemplating the pond. He paced from one end to the other, a tall figure in a long black jacket, his hair confined to his trademark ponytail and thoughtful brown eyes behind his narrow glasses. Why wasn’t he jumping into the pond to search for the gift? Why did he not feel that surge of excitement that had tagged every clue until now? Absently, his hand found the pendant of ‘Om’ round his neck and his fingers curled around the reassuring metal.
‘This doesn’t feel right,’ he said suddenly to Isabel who was watching him keenly.
‘I know what you mean. That’s what’s been troubling me about this clue right from the start,’ she agreed.
‘With every riddle that we have unravelled thus far, I’ve felt this anticipation and a kind of exhilaration—this energy communicating to me that we are on the right path. I don’t get the same feel about this place. It’s supposed to be the last clue which would lead us to the Gift. Why would Reinhardt hide the Gift here instead of at the Schloss?’
‘I’m with you on this. Let’s take a look again at the clue,’ she suggested, digging into her pocket for the paper.
‘You know Reinhardt very well by now. You’ve used your instinct to get us this far. Here’s what I suggest. Don’t look at the clue. Close your eyes and tell me the first place that you think Reinhardt would finally hide the Gift. Don’t worry about the why, how and what. Just let this feeling of connect with Reinhardt blossom within you and conjure up an image before your eyes.’
Isabel stared at Re for a long moment, a mix of puzzled amusement on her face. The light of the horse panels highlighted her blonde bob. Then she closed her eyes. Re waited, his heart thudding with an eager expectation. He knew the answer would come.
Isabel opened her eyes instantly.
‘The Library! It’s Reinhardt’s most favourite spot in the Schloss. If he had to keep anything safe—especially any documents—he would do it in the Library,’ she said.
‘Fantastic! Now let’s look at the clue.’
‘Through the dark tunnel, finally comes the light
Where angels of yore have stilled their wise flight
Cherubs, Sculptures, bird and 3 humans keep watch over the core,
Even as the mirrors, like Cheaters, will glaze the real McCoy of four.’
‘I had earlier thought he meant a physical tunnel, but could he have meant it symbolically? Like a tunnel of ignorance?’ he supplied.
‘Yes, why not? A tunnel of ignorance and finally comes the light. Symbolically, it could mean knowledge. The Library is a storehouse of knowledge! The tunnel of ignorance opens into the storehouse of Knowledge.’
‘Parfait!What about angels of yore?’
‘There are cherubs and angels galore in the Library, but to narrow it down—there are specifically two angels, one opposite each other, which could probably match this description. But I think it would be best to examine the Library for the other indicators.’
Re shot her a look of appreciation. ‘Let’s hurry then!’
Chapter 5
verything under control?’ Stefan asked, his eye roving over the tables and the guests milling around in the Marble Hall.
‘So far so good. They all seem to be having a good time,’ Dan replied, indicating the nearest round table.
The guests had grouped around the tables, as glasses were refilled and second helpings were served. Wendy and Mark took turns moving from table to table, joining their occupants in conversations. A chain of muted excitement linked the guests that night—excitement anticipating the discussion of the next two days each would bring to the table. Almost everyone was avoiding commenting on anything controversial, Dan realized, making an effort to stick to casual comfort talk, building a bridge of civil acceptance and camaraderie.
‘That’s good. I’m going to go down again and make sure all is fine,’ Stefan said.
‘It’s almost eleven,’ interposed Dan. ‘We’ll have one more recital by Joanna as planned, then, depending on the mood of the guests, we’ll begin winding up.’
Stefan expressed a dry laugh. ‘These people don’t seem in any mood to wind up, Dan. I doubt they ever get a chance to truly relax. They will make the most of this opportunity.’
‘I guess so,’ Dan said, but his tone clearly indicated that he did not think it to be such a good idea. He could
n’t wait for the evening to end. He was close to dropping with fatigue and nervous tension, and both were beginning to reflect on his face.
‘Have you seen Re or Isabel?’
‘Not in a while. Why?’
‘Nothing. I’ll go find them.’ Stefan shrugged.
***
It took seven minutes for Isabel to speed through the night and reach the Schloss. The entrance gate was shut and immediately a couple of policemen materialized through the dimly lit pathway.
‘I’ve never needed to flash my ID before,’ Isabel observed, picking it from the glove compartment.
The policeman examined it, nodded and the gates slid open. Isabel drove to the parking and they got out of the car. Strains of music and loud laughter drifted through the still night. The rains had ceased and a cool wind blew over the premises.
‘Will you go ahead to the Library? There’s something I need to do,’ Re suggested.
‘It’s already 11, don’t be too long,’ Isabel requested him.
‘I’ll be at the Library in ten minutes,’ he promised.
They parted ways and Re hastened into the Meierhof. It took him exactly five minutes to convince Karen, who sent the housekeeper to him with the keys. Re knew what he had to do. He had to visit all the rooms he had visited earlier, one last time, while the occupants were at the party. He slipped in and out of each room, frantically searching, opening cupboards, till finally he found the file he was looking for. He opened it and studied the newspaper clippings, experiencing a grim satisfaction. Then on to the next room.
‘And what do you think you are doing?’ a sharp voice asked from the door.
Re turned immediately, an apologetic expression on his face. ‘Mr Hollander!’
‘Yes and for your kind information, this is my room. And right this moment, I am going to take this up with Dan.’ The old man appeared furious.
‘Mr Hollander, please calm down,’ Re cut in smoothly. ‘Now that you are here, I guess I don’t actually need to be here. I can ask you directly.’
‘Ask me what?’
‘You are ex-CIA, aren’t you?’
‘Who told you?’
‘Your badge here for instance and the fact that Tim Wagner has a loud, booming voice.’ Re smiled.
‘So, what’s the big deal?’
‘That’s what I want to know. You are here for something. I want to know what that something is. Oh, by the way, I am an investigative journalist and Dan’s close friend.’
Hollander entered the room and took in a swig of water from the bottle kept on his nightstand. Re could read his mind. He was wondering if he should open up.
‘All right then,’ the old man capitulated. ‘One of our men has gone missing and I traced him to the Schloss. At least I thought it was him.’
‘One of your men…you mean a CIA agent?’
‘That’s right. His name’s Justin.’
Re was taken aback. Justin—a CIA agent?
‘Justin, a CIA agent?’ another voice spoke from the door. It was Stefan and he couldn’t have looked more stunned.
‘Yes. He was very good, apparently one of our best. But some days ago, he vanished and there is no trace of him. I happened to be in Austria on a holiday and got wind of the news through an insider. I was told to follow up, although I am no more in active service now. I picked up a trail which led me to the Schloss, where I was staying anyway, but that turned out to be cold.’
Stefan and Re exchanged quick glances. Re didn’t need to be a psychic to gauge the workings of Stefan’s mind. Re himself was thinking along the same lines. If Justin was CIA, it explained why he wrote those letters on the sheet of paper. He had discovered the plan for the destruction of Salzburg and had been smoothly dealt with. It also meant that the dead body found by the Hercules Pond was indeed Justin’s! A sudden sweat broke out on Re’s forehead as, for an agonizing moment, a stark question stared him full in the face. Isabel…what about Isabel’s claims of having seen him twice that day? How was it possible if Justin was dead? For the second time in two days, Re experienced a doubleedged ray of doubt. How could his gut instinct have failed him so terribly? After all was said and done, was Isabel guilty or innocent? With all his heart now, he wished he knew!
***
Re and Stefan silently crossed the Marble Hall, each busy with his own thoughts, reserved by unspoken consent. The party was still in festive mood, with absolutely no signs of anyone retiring. Occasional laughter rang out from the tables. It was perhaps the first time that so many political heads of different countries were meeting informally, and enjoying it.
The Library was illuminated with two chandeliers and the table lamps. Isabel stood in the middle of the room gazing up at the fireplace. Re hesitated for a fraction of a second, unsure of his stance. But when her gaze rested on him, her face lit up.
‘Come here, Re, and take a look at the two angels’ she indicated, ignoring Stefan.
The floorboards creaked loudly, despite the red carpet, as Re joined Isabel by the enormous fireplace which enjoyed a prominent position in the Library. Right in the centre of the room, a thick marble border of pale-pink stone highlighted its beauty as did the gilded firegrate. And right above the fireplace perched a sculpture of an angel facing another angel on the opposite wall. Smooth, baby faces, with red garments and gossamer wings.
‘Where angels of yore have stilled their wise flight,’ Re remarked.
‘And those up there are the two men mentioned in the clue—that’s the happy and sad face of Reinhardt. He put them there himself, like the comedic and tragic masks of theatre.’
Re glanced up to where she pointed and saw the mural in the right corner of the ceiling, minutely detailed in its embossment. It was fascinating how Max Reinhardt’s love for theatre and its expression was so evident on the Schloss walls.
‘I knew of these two, but have no idea if there’s a third face in this room. And I have never heard of a bird.’
‘Perhaps it’s in a painting,’ Re suggested, glancing around the room, his eyes casing the furniture, sculptures and bookshelves. ‘The ceiling is covered with designs and has two paintings. Perhaps we can find something in one of those. You can begin searching from the door end of the hall and I will begin from the opposite side. Stefan, you take the farthest end by the windows. Let’s quickly scan the ceiling for more faces and birds.’
Isabel and Stefan nodded and instantly took up their respective positions. Re noticed that neither Stefan nor Isabel were acknowledging each other, either by look or word. Going by the complex state of affairs, he doubted the outcome of this silence.
Re craned his neck almost perpendicular to the ceiling as his eyes screened it. Reinhardt seemed to have laid out a world above them of intricate design. He spotted a globe and a kind of compass. Was that in reference to the Library? Knowledge. Of all kinds. Geography? He felt a thrill of excitement. It had to be the Library. The clues had to be here and the gift had to be in the Schloss!
‘What’s this?’ Stefan called out. ‘It looks like a bird to me.’
Re hurried to his side, by the large windows which overlooked the lake. High above, in a corner, two small ears and a round face appeared.’
‘It’s an owl!’ Re exclaimed.
‘Oh my God, we are in the right place then,’ Isabel expressed.
‘Look around, we need to find a third face.’
The big grandfather clock showed the time as 11.20. Re began to grow anxious. Only forty minutes to midnight. They had to act fast. So much to be done still…
Dan walked into the room just then, followed by Martina and Jim Sorey.
‘Oh, I’m sorry; I thought the room was empty. Please carry on,’ Dan made his excuses and hastily hustled Jim Sorey out of the Library.
‘Should we just close the door?’ Re wondered.
Isabel shook her head. ‘No, that will simply create suspicion. Let’s just carry on. There’s no face my side of the ceiling. What about near the owl?’
‘Yes! There’s a face here!’ Stefan called out excitedly.
Re and Isabel once more ran to his side of the Library, the creaking floor protesting vehemently. The officer pointed to the wall just above the window and sure enough, a mask-like single face peered down from the ceiling, similar to the tragic mask of the twin theatrical faces.
‘Fantastic!’ Re couldn’t contain his relief. ‘That’s it: “Cherubs, Sculptures, bird and 3 humans keep watch over the core”. We have to find the core now. Even as the mirrors, like Cheaters, will glaze the real McCoy of four.’
‘The real McCoy of four, that’s what we have to find now,’ Isabel said, her eyes darting to the clock. It was 11.25.
Hasty footsteps preceded Dan’s entry. He looked flushed. ‘I’m back. How’s it going?’ he asked, glancing from face to face.
‘We are close, very close,’ Re murmured absently, staring at the clue. ‘“Even as the mirrors, like Cheaters…” Cheaters, why would mirrors be like cheaters? Is this some sort of slang again, like in the earlier clues?’
Re didn’t wait for a response. He quickly took out his phone. ‘Oh heck, my phone’s dead!’
‘I have mine,’ Stefan reassured him.
‘Great! Lookup the ’20s slang…is there a word “cheaters”?’
A few precious moments passed, as Stefan swiped and typed. The ticking of the clock sounded louder than ever. 11.30. More laughter filtered into the room from the Marble Hall. The contrast of energies and emotions and the irony of it all, made Re grimace. The guests in the hall next door were blissfully unaware of the tensions in the Library. And perhaps if all went well, would never really know the full impact of the danger to the town and themselves.
‘Yes!’ Stefan glanced up and his blue-grey gaze held a glint. ‘Cheaters are also another word for sunglasses.’
‘Sunglasses! “Even as the mirrors, like sunglasses, glaze the McCoy of Four”,’ Re repeated reflectively. ‘What about McCoy? Could you look it up?’
Stefan nodded and his fingers quickly flicked over his mobile. A few moments later, he whistled. ‘McCoy means the real thing, the genuine article.’
The Trail of Four Page 26
