“And did they find the weapon near the bow, stern or amidships?”
“Near the bow, I think. Why are you asking?”
“I’ll tell you later. You can get back to work now, Claude. Sorry to have bothered you.”
“So you’re going to leave me wondering what you’re up to? That’s cruel, Paul.”
Burke patted his friend on the arm and turned back toward the dining room. If there were people watching him, he didn’t care. He had other matters on his mind. Why would the killer, having just murdered Bennett Blake, go to the bow of the ship and simply drop the weapon into the water instead of tossing it as far out into the Danube as possible where the chance of finding it would be much less? And if the Danube didn’t seem like a good hiding spot for the weapon, why didn’t the killer go into town and dump the weapon someplace where no one would likely come across it? Was it a matter of stupidity? Burke doubted it. If anything, he thought the person who killed Blake was clever ̶ and arrogant.
Chapter 39
That evening, Burke noticed a brighter mood as soon as he entered the dining room. He saw more conversations and heard laughter for the first time in two days. People were also showing stronger appetites.
He sat at a table with the French team-building participant, Jean Poirier, Poirier’s wife Claudette, and Eric Chapman and his family.
They conversed in French. The Chapmans all had a good handle on the language, but needed help with colloquialisms. No one got bothered when some translation was needed.
“People seem to be recovering from the shock of Bennett Blake’s death,” Poirier said.
“I was thinking the same,” Burke said.
“People can be very resilient,” Chapman added. “You throw something unexpected at them and they struggle at the outset. And then they begin to adjust because they want to get back to their lives. It’s human nature.”
“I agree, but I think many people here are still wondering who was responsible for Monsieur Blake’s death, especially if they believe the killer remains on board,” Poirier said.
A few minutes later, Thierry Delisle announced the plans for the following day. To Burke’s surprise, there was a fair amount of applause. People were definitely looking to move on.
After dinner, Burke went around and chatted with passengers. The topics ranged from the excellence of the kitchen staff to the plans for the tour in the days ahead. Most mentioned they were looking forward to visiting Vienna.
Only a couple of people mentioned Bennett Blake and the police investigation.
No one said anything about Wilson Talbot.
When he thought he had done his duty, Burke excused himself and went to his cabin. There, he began to research the company that Blake and Talbot had worked for, Worldwide Events Consulting Inc. He knew the basics – the company helped organize sporting, cultural and other events around the globe – but he wanted to get a better sense of the operation and its hierarchy. And he wanted to know more about the team-building participants, especially since one of them could be behind Bennett Blake’s death.
The challenge was finding the best websites. A quick Google search produced more than a million website mentions. So, Burke opted to begin with the company’s own website, a modern, interactive site with plenty of dazzling graphics and lots of information.
The company originated in 1992, getting a small contract to work with the Olympics in Barcelona. Its efforts were so successful that it won contracts to help with other events. One success built on another until, by the late 1990s, the company had 2,500 employees stationed in 15 different countries on four continents. Besides working on sporting contests, the company had expanded into cultural events. A decade later, the company had more than tripled its operations and worked on all continents except Antarctica.
The company’s consulting services ranged from providing advice about technological needs, site planning, volunteer staffing and fundraising to dealing with various government agencies. The list was impressive, Burke thought.
It also boasted that, at any one time, it was involved in at least 50 major events around the world.
Burke started digging into the hierarchies of various head offices in different countries. He discovered most executives had a background in law, economics, computer science or politics.
It didn’t take too long to find information about Bennett Blake which surprised Burke because he thought such a high-powered company would have removed information about Blake in the wake of his death.
Blake had been educated at Cambridge, earning an undergraduate degree in economics in 1990 and then a graduate degree in human resources. After university, he went into working for the British government in London, rapidly working his way up the bureaucracy. Then he moved into private industry, getting a lofty position with an international fundraising organization. He worked in Paris, New York and Sydney, Australia. Next up was an executive position with a non-profit group specializing in holding sporting events. He stayed there two years before joining Worldwide Events Consulting Inc. as a senior administrator based in London.
Burke also saw a few photos that showed Blake at prominent social functions, most with Felicity Blake on his arm looking stunning in the latest evening apparel. In most of the photos, Blake looked like a puffed-up peacock, grinning and gesticulating, while Felicity radiated elegance and style. They were smiling in every photo – but not at each other.
Blake spent another two hours checking on other team-building participants. Most were at a similar senior level to Blake’s and had bounced between government and private industry. All were well-educated with three of them – Dietrich Beck, Niklaus Gast and Hoshiko Kimura – having doctorates.
In trying to make the executives a little more human, the company also listed hobbies for their executives. Burke read how David Fraser played in a rock band, Jean Poirier had sold some of his own paintings to various art galleries and the Aussie, Roger Langford, loved underwater photography. Gert Vanderkamp probably had the strangest hobby listed – he collected keys, the older the better.
Then Burke recalled how Madame Benoit, who ran a bed-and-breakfast operation in Arles in southern France, had educated him the previous year about how a person carried the passion for a hobby throughout life, regardless of changing circumstances. And he wondered briefly if the team-building participants had other hobbies and interests that weren’t well known.
Putting that question aside, Burke returned to his reading and learned that all of the team-building participants had lived in several different countries as part of their work with Worldwide Events Consulting Inc.
It was nearly midnight when Burke quit. He stretched out on his bed, his mind spinning with facts and images.
That’s when Claude came into the cabin, looking as exhausted as Burke felt.
“A long day for you, Claude,” Burke said.
“A long day for a lot of people. And it’s going to be another long one tomorrow, but at least the police are giving us a little more freedom.”
“Good.”
“Now tell me what was behind your questions in the kitchen?”
“I need a little more time to think and then I’ll tell you.”
“Your cruelty knows no bounds, Paul,” Claude said with a frown. “My curiosity is overwhelming and needs to be satisfied.”
“Soon. I promise.”
Ten minutes later, Burke heard his friend snoring in the now-darkened cabin.
Minutes later, he drifted off to sleep as well.
Chapter 40
The next morning, after sending François Lemaire a short video blog about the latest developments in the Blake case and after texting Hélène about what he’d be doing if she arrived when he was gone, Burke posted a note on the storage-room door, telling interested participants to grab their bikes if they wanted to go on the morning ride. Then he collected his machine and went outside onto the dock.
It was a beautiful mornin
g, maybe the finest so far on the trip. But Burke’s mind was on the scheduled side trip to Herzogenburg, a picturesque town of 8,500 about 15 kilometres south of Krems. The ride was designed to loosen legs and brighten spirits. And to kill time. The next day, the group would likely return to its planned route to Vienna.
Thierry Delisle had predicted the evening before that most of the team-building participants would be at the dock, bikes in hand, at the designated time.
Burke wasn’t so sure.
Then, sitting on a bench by the water, he watched as Renata Hable came out with Kendall Young, followed by Dietrich Beck, Jean Poirier, Hoshiko Kimura and Gert Vanderkamp. That was a better showing than he had expected.
Ten minutes later, he was looking at all 14 remaining team-building people plus another half dozen riders, including Felicity Blake, who were taking advantage of the extra bikes that had been available throughout the tour.
Burke saw Delisle standing at the side of the group and smiling. He also noticed how another 40 family and staff were coming down to the dock to watch the group depart.
Maybe everyone was thinking the ride would be good therapy.
Burke’s phone buzzed with a text. It was from Hélène, saying she’d be arriving at noon. Burke replied he’d still be on the ride with the group, and suggested she contact her uncle aboard the Sunna when she arrived in Krems.
Putting away his phone, Burke listened as Renata Hable described the day’s ride, suggesting a medium pace and a single-file formation along a quiet, secondary road. She mentioned they’d stop at the Stift Herzogenburg, a 900-year-old Augustinian monastery that was still used. She added she would be bringing up the rear of the group and that Burke would lead. “It will allow me to look at you from behind for a change,” she said. Several riders chuckled at that.
Burke knew Hable didn’t have a clue about the route. But, fortunately, he had cycled it as one of the reconnaissance rides he had done in preparation for the tour. He had enjoyed the route to Herzogenburg, spending a couple of hours at the monastery and then continuing farther south another 10 kilometres to the bustling market town of Sankt Pölten. When he had suggested the Herzogenburg trip as a possible excursion to Hable before the start of the tour, she had agreed it could serve if a side trip was needed. Now his reconnaissance ride was going to prove useful.
Just as she was finishing her remarks, the group’s police escort showed up. The same two motorcycle officers were there plus Karl Plaschke in a squad car.
A moment later, another vehicle pulled into the parking area by the ship.
Burke saw Inspector Christian Martin climb out of the driver’s side. From the passenger’s side emerged an older man, who looked to be in his mid 50s and was wearing an old-style grey suit with trouser cuffs. They started to walk toward the Sunna with the older man following Martin. It was clear to Burke that Martin was in command. The other man was probably just a new set of eyes.
The two flics nodded at the uniformed officers and then to the group of riders before going up the gangplank.
Burke glanced around and saw almost everyone was watching the two detectives. He could feel the group’s mood changing – for the worse.
“Your side trip today will be one you won’t forget,” interrupted Thierry Delisle in a booming voice. “The monastery is one of the finest of its type in all of Europe and the community itself is lovely.”
Burke knew Delisle hadn’t been to Herzogenburg, but it didn’t matter. His boss had seen the need to distract the group and had come up with a pep talk, hoping it would work with a group used to planning intricate events.
“Also, this evening our chefs have a special meal prepared, a real treat for all of us. I can’t tell you what it is or it wouldn’t be a surprise, but I guarantee you’ll be impressed. So, enjoy your ride and build up a good appetite. Tomorrow, we’ll be returning to our scheduled route on the way to Vienna.”
Several of the participants nodded. It seemed Delisle’s efforts were producing a good result.
Burke caught sight of Claude standing on the outside lower deck with several other kitchen staff joining him. They were obviously there to provide support for the riders.
“Time to go,” Delisle said loudly.
Then with a nod to the motorcycle cops, Burke mounted his bike and started to ride, telling everyone to be careful until they got themselves into a solid formation. As the group slowly built up speed, Burke used his earpiece radio connection to ask Renata Hable how everyone was doing.
“They’re moving smoothly,” she replied. “No problems at all.”
Burke hoped it would stay that way.
Chapter 41
Following the police escort, the group crossed the bridge to the south side of the Danube. Burke glanced at the mirror he had attached to his handlebars before the ride and saw everyone was in a tight line. So far, so good.
Shortly after, he stopped the group and pointed to a soaring tower several kilometres away on the south side river bank. He explained it was part of the Zwentendorf nuclear power plant, the first nuclear power plant built in Austria but one that was never used after a referendum denied its use.
“Now, it’s ignored and neglected,” he said.
“Like Wilson Talbot,” came a soft voice close to him.
Burke looked at the speaker, Ingrid Froon, who met his gaze and then looked away. He glanced around. A couple of others in the group had heard the comment, but most hadn’t.
He wondered if Froon had enjoyed a relationship with Talbot. If she had, it would have been a long-distance one since Burke remembered she was based in Amsterdam while Talbot had worked out of London.
Burke made a mental note to chat with her later to see if he could learn more about her connection to Wilson Talbot. Then he motioned to the police escort, which had stopped 100 metres ahead, to tell them the group was going to start riding again.
A half hour later, they cycled into Traismauer, a small, pretty town with cobbled streets, a stone fortress and a handful of Roman ruins. They rode by picturesque buildings, attractive shops and cafés, stopping twice for photos, and then continued on their way south.
Back in the countryside, Burke could feel the energy within the group starting to increase. So, he set a slightly faster pace. When he glanced into his mirror, he was surprised to see the riders organizing themselves into a double paceline. Within seconds, they had the system working perfectly. Burke was surprised, given that several in the group hadn’t been trained to ride in that formation. Then he caught a couple of the team-building participants advising the others on the formation. They had obviously taken charge.
The group’s speed increased again and Burke had to pedal hard to stay in front. He wondered if Renata Hable was still tagged onto the back so he swerved out quickly and saw she was tucked nicely onto the end of the paceline. She was a cycling machine.
When they reached Herzogenburg, Burke was breathing heavily and looking for a certain beer gardens that he recalled from his previous visit to the community.
It didn’t take long to find.
The group stopped, put aside their bikes and walked into the expansive grounds, shrouded by beautiful silver poplar trees and decorated with several oversized pots containing colourful flowers. It seemed to Burke that every beer garden from Passau to Vienna was the stuff of postcards.
Since Hable had contacted the manager of the beer garden before leaving Krems, the staff at the restaurant welcomed them, showed them to three long tables and quickly began taking their orders.
Burke made sure he sat beside the person he wanted to – Felicity Blake.
“That was an excellent ride,” she told Burke with a smile. “We worked well together and we rode with some speed.”
Burke saw she was sweating, but seemed energized. An endorphin rush maybe.
“Our little peloton certainly went full gas on that last stretch,” Burke admitted.
“I needed to do somethi
ng physical. I’ve felt trapped on that damn ship, like a lot of people probably have.”
Burke thought it was interesting that she didn’t mention it was her husband’s murder that had led them to being “trapped.”
“Of course, what else could the police do after what happened to my Bennett?” she added, her eyes getting teary. “It’s been such a nightmare that any escape such as this bike ride helps.”
Burke nodded. He spotted a few others listening to Felicity’s remarks.
A minute later, the servers showed up with platters loaded with beer, wine, juice and coffee. They distributed the drinks and then returned five minutes later with platters heavy with a variety of hors d’oeuvres.
Burke participated in the flowing conversations, but kept his contributions to a minimum. He wanted to watch how people were coping.
It seemed they were doing just fine.
No one mentioned Bennett Blake or Wilson Talbot. Or the police investigation back in Krems. Instead, they talked about the morning ride, made a few jokes and then graduated into discussing a massive event scheduled for Germany the next year. Worldwide Events Consulting Inc. was contracted to help organize it and a few people around the tables were involved.
Burke listened with fascination as the group started discussing the logistics of the project which was a massive series of rock concerts held in a half dozen major cities. The more they talked, the more Burke was impressed. These were smart people indeed. And they were obviously well-versed in identifying potential problems and producing possible solutions.
That told Burke that if the person who killed Blake was among this group, he or she had likely worked out all probable scenarios. And that was why the police seemed to be struggling in finding who had murdered Bennett Blake ̶ and Wilson Talbot.
When the discussion about the German event diminished, a few starting talking about the area where they were.
Deception On the Danube Page 13
