The Secret Crown (2010)

by Chris Kuzneski

  Forced to temporarily rely on his other senses, Payne focused on the sounds that echoed in the darkness: the trickling of water; the giggling of children; the patter of footsteps. In a matter of seconds, he knew the tranquillity of the gorge would be replaced by the cacophony of war - the screaming, the crying, the gun fire - and it would be up to him to restore calm. Thankfully, he had the expertise to finish the job quickly.

  Just before he reached the gap in the rock, the tunnel turned to the right and stretched for more than a hundred feet through the limestone mountain. Along the way, large arches had been cut into the left-hand wall offering intimate views of the Partnach River as it raged through the gorge. People of all ages crowded against the waist-high steel fence, which prevented them from falling into the water even as it splashed their feet and filled their ears with thunder.

  With enough light to see, Payne sprinted across the uneven stone floor and caught a glimpse of Richter, who was nearly fifty feet ahead. For the time being, the presence of two large men with assault rifles running through the shadows hadn’t made a large impression on the tourists, who were too enamoured with the rapids to care about anything else. But Payne knew everything would change when a weapon was fired. Chaos would reign in the blink of an eye.

  Hoping to keep the peace for as long as possible, Payne studied the terrain without slowing down. If he had been given advanced surveillance of the tunnel, he would have positioned himself near the first turn and waited for his enemy to be blinded by a lack of light. As soon as they stopped in the darkness, he would have mowed them down with automatic fire, ending the drama in less than five seconds. Unfortunately, it was too late to go back now, not with his opponents so close behind. If they happened to beat Payne to that first turn, he would be the one stranded in the middle of a tunnel, not them. And all the tourists who were watching the rapids would get caught up in the crossfire.

  To Payne, going back was too big of a risk.

  Especially since he had other options.

  For as long as Payne could remember, he preferred being the chaser instead of the chased. Obviously, there were advantages to being in front during a foot pursuit, and if he had been stuck in the lead position, he would have made the most of it. But based on experience, he knew he was much more effective when attacking from behind. Not only did it match his aggressive personality, but it allowed him to use his stealth, which was an important part of his skill set. With that in mind, he looked for ways to let the enemy pass him in the gorge.

  As Payne approached the last archway on the left, he noticed an absence of tourists near the steel fence. A rock formation, which jutted out from the side of the mountain and partially blocked the view of the water below, gave him the opportunity he was looking for. Wasting no time, Payne hopped over the fence and slid back along the tiny ridge that lined the outside of the wall until he couldn’t be seen from the corridor. After that, all he had to do was wait.

  First, he heard Krueger rumble past the archway without slowing down. Then the lead goon did the same, his footsteps echoing as he ran. Realizing there was only one goon left, Payne moved into position to strike. As soon as the straggler passed, Payne sprang from his hiding place and landed on the goon’s back like a cheetah bringing down a gazelle. In the tunnel, the only noises made - the sound of air being forced from the goon’s lungs and the crack of his neck as Payne twisted it viciously to the side - were drowned out by the roaring water.

  Just like that, the goon was dead.

  Worried about detection, Payne glanced in both directions and searched for any signs of trouble. To the north, Krueger and the other goon were still running at top speed. To the south, tourists continued to gawk at the gorge, completely unaware that death had just visited the shadows of the tunnel. Hoping to prevent their panic, Payne lifted the body and carried it over to the archway where he had launched his attack. He was thirty feet downstream from the closest hikers, who would find the corpse if he left it in the tunnel. If he dumped it, the authorities might not find it for days. To Payne, it wasn’t a tough decision. With a mighty heave, he launched the body over the fence and watched it get sucked under the rapids.

  After that, Payne turned and started chasing his next victim.

  Over the next hundred feet, the corridor system changed dramatically. Instead of dark tunnels with periodic archways that offered views of the river, the entire left-hand wall had been carved away, leaving behind an open trail with a limestone roof hanging overhead. Sunlight from above reflected off the water below, filling the trail with natural light. Every nook and cranny seemed to glow, as if the rocks themselves were luminescent.

  To keep tourists from falling into the water, two steel cables were threaded through sturdy posts that had been anchored into the limestone. The cables ran along the river’s edge, curling gradually with the bend in the path as the water weaved its way towards the valley. Because of his size, Payne had to slow down when the trail narrowed or the roof dipped. Otherwise, he would have split his skull open on the jagged rocks above.

  Despite this hindrance, Payne quickly made up ground.

  Darting and ducking, bobbing and weaving, Payne closed the gap to less than twenty feet, yet the goon didn’t know he was behind him. Earlier, tourists had literally been in the dark when it came to the chase, but thanks to an abundance of light along the path, tourists now did everything possible to get out of their way - including straddling the steel cables while holding on for their lives. A Spaniard misjudged his leap as Krueger rushed towards him, and he fell waist-deep into the river. During a terrifying eight seconds, both his flip-flops were ripped off his feet by the surging water, which was nature’s way of saying people shouldn’t wear flip-flops during a hike. Thankfully, his life was spared by Payne, who grabbed the man’s arms and yanked him out of the water a moment before he was swept down river.

  ‘Gracias,’ the Spaniard said, trembling.

  Payne patted him on the back. ‘De nada.’

  Then he started running again.

  Realizing it was just a matter of time before a tourist was hurt or killed, Payne decided to increase his aggression. Instead of chasing the goon down, Payne would lure him to a section of the trail that could be exploited. If done correctly, Payne knew he could take him out with a single shot without putting anyone else at risk.

  Actually, make that two shots.

  The first would get him to stop. The second would end his life.

  42

  Heidi smiled when she thought about her initial conversation with Payne. He was charming, funny and flirtatious - not to mention ruggedly handsome. If they had met in a coffee shop or in a bookstore, she would have been willing to chat with him all day. And when they chatted, she would have been open and honest about her life because that’s the kind of woman she was. On the other hand, if she had met him at a poker table, she would have lied her ass off from the moment they met because that was how the game was played. Afterwards, she would have returned to her truthful ways, but during the give and take of competition, she would have used every trick in the book to ensure her success.

  She planned to do the same thing here. She would bluff to her advantage.

  ‘May I ask you a question?’ she said to Ulster, who had just finished a rambling dialogue about the history of the Archives while lounging on one of Ludwig’s couches. ‘Jon said something to me when we first met, and it’s been bothering me ever since.’

  ‘Of course, my dear. What did he say?’

  ‘He said you guys were looking for some kind of treasure and needed my help.’

  Ulster sat upright. ‘He said what?’

  With her best poker face, she continued her story. ‘He said you were looking for a secret treasure or something, and he wanted to ask me some questions about Ludwig.’

  ‘Wait a moment! When did he say that?’

  ‘When he first came up to the house. You and DJ were still chatting on the slope, and Jon hustled over to introduce himself and
apologize about noise from the helicopter. Remember?’

  ‘I do indeed,’ said Ulster as he stood and started to pace. ‘Then what?’

  ‘Then he asked about my job.’

  ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I told him I worked for the Bavarian Palace Department, and I’ve been …’ She paused for a moment, letting the tension build.

  He stared at her. ‘You’ve been what?’

  ‘Maybe I should wait until Jon returns. I don’t know why, but I feel as though I’m doing something wrong here, like I’m going behind his back. Perhaps our discussion was supposed to be confidential.’

  Ulster rushed over to her side and patted her knee. ‘Nonsense! I can assure you that isn’t the case. Jonathon, David and I are in this together. If he felt you could help our cause, perhaps you can. Tell me, my dear, what is your area of expertise?’

  ‘Ludwig’s palaces,’ she answered honestly. ‘Over the past few years, I’ve worked at Linderhof, Neuschwanstein and the Munich Residenz. I know more about those buildings than Ludwig himself - mostly because they’ve done a lot of remodelling since his death.’

  Ulster laughed at her joke. He was a huge fan of historical humour. ‘What about his life? Are you familiar with his life?’

  ‘If you’re referring to Ludwig Friedrich Wilhelm von Wittelsbach, then the answer is yes. A famous historian once said, “To understand a castle, you must understand the king.” Obviously, that’s a difficult task with someone as complicated as Ludwig, but it’s a passion of mine. I’ve spent the last few years studying his letters and journals and the books from his private library, trying to learn about his life. Eventually, I reached a point where I knew more about Ludwig than some of the men I’ve dated. I know that’s pathetic, but it’s the truth.’

  Ulster leaned back on the couch. ‘Tell me, my dear, do you know the name of the historian you just quoted?’

  She shook her head. ‘I’m sorry, Petr. I don’t recall.’

  He smiled. ‘It was my grandfather, Conrad Ulster.’

  ‘Really?’ Her voice cracked as she said it. She honestly hadn’t known. ‘Here I am going on and on like a pompous windbag, and I used your grandfather’s quote as my thesis statement. I can’t imagine what you think of me right now!’

  He laughed. ‘Don’t worry, my dear, I find you completely refreshing. During the past fifteen minutes, you have praised my article in The Times and quoted my grandfather. Fifteen years and fifty pounds ago, I might have thought you were flirting with me!’

  Heidi blushed, more embarrassed than a moment before.

  Ulster continued. ‘Tell me, did Jonathon ask you any questions about Ludwig before he left? Perhaps we can work out what part of our investigation you could assist.’

  She quickly replayed the conversation with Payne in her head. She hoped to find a nugget that would convince Ulster she could be trusted with information about their trip to Bavaria. Unfortunately, the only questions she could recall were asked after Jones and Ulster had joined the discussion. Instead of saying nothing at all, she decided to use them to keep the ball rolling. ‘If you remember, DJ wanted to know about fresh-water lakes that Ludwig might have visited around here. He seemed disappointed when I told him there were none. I thought maybe he was thinking about Schloss Hohenschwanstein, the castle Ludwig stayed at when Neuschwanstein was being built, since there was a large lake adjacent to the property, but that seemed to disappoint him even more.’

  ‘Yes, I remember.’

  ‘Then Jon asked me to translate the names of both castles into English. His ears seemed to perk up when I mentioned high swan stone and new swan stone as if that information was somehow important.’

  ‘Yes, my dear, I remember that, too.’

  ‘Then, I said—’

  Ulster interrupted her. ‘Actually, my dear, I was wondering if Jonathon asked you any questions that I wasn’t privy to. Those are the ones that would be most helpful to our cause.’

  Heidi stared at him, intrigued. Even though she didn’t know him very well, she knew Ulster was overly polite - one of the most well-mannered men she had ever met. Yet he had just cut her off in mid-sentence, right after she had mentioned the translation of the two names. In poker, whenever an opponent bet too quickly it usually meant he was hiding something. Suddenly, she wondered if Ulster’s interruption was his way of changing the topic, in the same way locking himself in the bathroom had been his way to avoid tough questions about his trip to Schachen.

  ‘Let me think,’ she said, hoping to buy some time.

  ‘Think away, my dear. I’m not going anywhere.’

  She leaned back on the couch and rubbed her eyes, trying to make sense of what she knew. High swan stone and new swan stone were simple translations. Anyone with a basic grasp of the German language could have done that for them, so it had to be something more than that. Okay, what led them to ask about the translations? The lake. They wanted to know about a lake that Ludwig might have visited on Mount Schachen. She told them there wasn’t a lake around here, but there was a lake that Ludwig had visited on many occasions by the other castles.

  Crap! She suddenly realized they weren’t the ones who had brought up the castles; she had brought up the castles. Maybe she was wrong about their interest in the translation of the castle’s name. Maybe she had misread their questions and Ulster’s interruption, and turned them into an elaborate wild-goose chase, one that would end with a vast treasure. Of course, that would be appropriate considering the subject matter. After all, Ludwig had a history of taking boring tasks and turning them into whimsical adventures. Perhaps she was doing the same thing here.

  Heidi opened her eyes and focused. Payne seemed interested in the word swan. She was well aware one of Ludwig’s many nicknames was the Swan King, but could there be another connection she was looking for?

  If so, what did it have to do with a treasure?

  A popular legend involved a series of mysterious letters - known as the black swan letters - Ludwig had sent to aristocrats throughout Europe. With his royal coffers nearly dry, Ludwig reportedly asked for their support in order to finish a secret project he had been working on. Since his reputation was better in foreign countries than in Bavaria, it was assumed that many noblemen answered his call, and riches came flooding in. Heidi had no way of knowing if the rumours were true, but if they were, there was a chance the money Ludwig had collected was still hidden somewhere since he was murdered before he could spend it.

  Could that be what they were looking for?

  The infamous black swan treasure?

  It would explain many of their questions and why Ulster had interrupted her right after she had mentioned the word swan. He was trying to shift her focus away from a key word.

  Heidi smiled to herself. Obviously none of this would hold up in a court of law, but in a game of poker, she had more than enough to work with. All she had to do was bluff a little more and see how her opponent reacted. So far, Ulster had shown an inability to lie, which was admirable in a friend but a serious problem in a game like this.

  She glanced at him. ‘Now that I think about it, Jon did ask me something else. He wanted to know if I was familiar with the black swan.’

  Ulster tensed up. ‘And what did you say?’

  ‘I told him I was quite familiar with the topic. I know all about the midnight letters, the mysterious project and his massive treasure.’

  Ulster turned bright red. ‘Treasure?’

  Heidi stared at him. She analysed the colour of his face, the crinkles around his eyes and the way his hands trembled slightly. This was a man with a major tell. ‘I knew it!’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I knew it! I knew it! I knew it!’

  ‘Knew what?’

  ‘You’re looking for his treasure! The black swan treasure!’

  His face turned brighter. ‘I don’t know what you think you know, but …’

  She ignored his protest and continued her celebration by doi
ng a small victory dance in the Turkish Hall, the same place where Ludwig used to prance around with his male servants.

  Ulster sighed. ‘Bollocks!’

  Heidi heard the word and couldn’t help but laugh. It was probably the closest a man like Ulster ever came to swearing. Suddenly feeling guilty for her behaviour, she collapsed on the couch next to him and patted his belly. ‘Don’t worry, Petr. Your secret is safe with me.’

  ‘It is?’ he asked, concerned.

  ‘I promise, I won’t tell a soul.’

  He glanced at her, hopeful. ‘You won’t?’

  She flashed a winning smile. ‘Not if you take me with you.’

  43

  Krueger didn’t give a damn about bystanders. As far as he was concerned, collateral damage was an acceptable part of war, and that’s what he was involved in: a goddamn war. Thus far, Kaiser’s men had taken out half his crew, which gave Krueger all the motivation he needed to be ruthless. If people got in his way, he was going to knock them to the ground, shove them into the river, or do whatever he had to do to complete his mission. If he failed, he knew Mueller would blame him, and that would be the end of Krueger’s career. Maybe even his life.

  Mueller was quite vindictive.

  Despite his incentive to succeed, Krueger had been reluctant to fire his weapon during the early part of the chase because of a severe shortage of ammo. He had a few rounds in his clip, but not enough to take desperate shots while running - especially while navigating the upper section of the gorge where the narrow trail twisted in and out of tunnels. Further up ahead, he knew the path widened and straightened. That’s where he had planned to make his move.