Academy of the Dead

by Christopher Wright



  ACADEMY OF THE DEAD

  A Matt Rider thriller #3

  New Edition

  Matt Rider is made an offer that seems too good to miss. Go to Prague, find some priceless music manuscripts -- and share in a fortune. Unfortunately, even for a confident backstreet PI, the clues are rather thin on the ground. All Matt knows is that a young Jewish girl called Hana Eisler had the manuscripts in Prague in 1942. Using old records from the Helios Music Academy in England, Matt tracks Hana's movements to a Nazi concentration camp in the Czech Republic. And there the trail seems to end. The American violin teacher at the Helios Academy claims to know something about Hana's family. And so does the Academy dean. Matt decides to contact Hana in a séance. Taking place in England and the Czech Republic, Academy of the Dead is an exciting hunt for lost treasure. There are big stakes to play for -- and maybe not everyone can be trusted. Academy of the Dead is the third Matt Rider detective thriller.

  ACADEMY OF THE DEAD

  by

  Chris Wright

  First published in the USA by Hard Shell Publishing ©Christopher Wright 2004

  This North View Publishing edition

  ©Christopher Wright 2016

  Academy of the Dead is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously.

  All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise), without the prior written permission of the copyright owner of this book.

  North View Publishing

  email: northviewpublishing@gmail.com

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  Contents

  Cover

  About this Book

  A Word from the Author

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  More North View Publishing thrillers

  A Word from the Author

  This book, the third in the Matt Rider series, was first published in 2004, a time when many electronic and computer based devices that we take for granted today were either in their infancy or non-existent. Digital cameras, which almost everyone has today, were not capable of producing images as good as the best film cameras of the day, and would rarely have been used for surveillance. And cell phones (mobile phones for some readers) were basic and few had any sort of camera. Yes, technology has changed rapidly, and will continue to change. This book has received some minor edits, but I have made no attempt to update the technology in this republished book as that would make the story unreal for the period in which it takes place. The Matt Rider series of books take place six months to a year apart.

  I want to express my thanks to Stepán Zdenek, who lives in Letohrad near Ústí nad Orlici, for his help with some of the incidents in the Czech Republic, and for his patience in dealing with my many questions. I also want to thank the unknown driver of a small white car who rescued my wife and me near Ústí nad Orlici in the worst thunder and hail storm I have ever known.

  The Czech language is written with accents on many of the letters, and these are vital for correct pronunciation. When I put these accents on the names of Czech characters in the book I felt that they would be a distraction for English-speaking readers. I have therefore not used them for the names of people, but have kept them for the names of places. I hope that Czech readers will understand why I have done this.

  Northern Europe Today

  Prologue

  1942

  Masaryk Railway Station

  Prague

  Czechoslovakia

  HANA EISLER is twelve years old. She stands on the railway platform, clutching her precious music case, waiting for the train that will take her to safety before the soldiers come. Puddles of water from the heavy downpour have soaked through her thin shoes on the hurried walk from Papa's house in the Josefov district. Her long blue coat, the junior uniform for the Academy, has kept her shivering body dry.

  Hana looks up at the platform clock. The train is already sixteen minutes late. She dares not ask the porter if it is coming soon. Jews have a distinctive way of speaking -- so her father says. Maybe the German soldiers won't ask for her papers if she keeps her mouth shut. She grips the brown leather case more tightly to her chest. She closes her eyes, swallows hard, and opens them again. Nathania Tischler, the violin teacher at the Helios Music Academy here in Prague once told her to do this before coming on stage for a concert. Nathania Tischler said it calms the nerves and concentrates the mind. Hana knows her mind is concentrated, but her nerves feel far from calm.

  Mama and her little sister Rosa died yesterday. Papa hasn't told her how they died, and she is afraid to ask. Papa tells her she must be brave. Terrible things are happening. Apart from her Papa, all the Jews she knew in Prague are dead or taken away -- even Nathalia Tischler. The Nazis say they're cleaning up the city. The big girls at the Academy tell stories of Jewish girls being raped -- in such detail that she sometimes lies awake in bed and lives out of the horrifying ripping of her clothes, the sweating, stinking German soldier pressing down on her body.

  The battered music case once belonged to great grandfather Vasek, then grandmother Pavla, then Papa, and now it has been given to her. Papa says that music runs through the family veins with the life-giving force of blood. The beautiful violin, over two hundred years old, is with uncle Otik, to take to safety in America. When the Nazi soldiers came yesterday they left the music case. They were not to know what it held.

  Hana hears the train approaching, sees the tall plume of smoke rising over the distant trees at the foot of the hill. For a moment she believes she is out of danger. The train is coming to take her east, to her aunt and uncle's farm in Ústí. Suddenly she hears the noise of an approaching truck and the excited shouts of soldiers.

  Papa says the manuscripts in the leather case are her insurance. "Hana," he told her less than an hour ago, with tears in his eyes, "if the soldiers stop you at the railway station, you must ask to see the captain and offer the papers in return for your safety."

  Safety? All last night in the damp attic room hiding with Papa she has imagined this moment. Yes, the German captain will take the manuscripts, and then he and his men will have her body -- before killing her. She turns. The train has slowed to a crawl beyond the trees. The plume of smoke is rising straight up into the gray sky. The soldiers will be here first.

  Chapter One

  The present

  England

  "MY PARTNER Is having an affair. With one of the teaching staff at the Academy." The well-spoken man leaned forward and smashed the flat of his hand onto Ken Ha
bgood's desk. "You're a private detective. Catch them at it."

  Ken forced a smile that seemed to lack confidence as he moved back in his seat. "I'm sure we can help. My company ... specializes in this sort of thing." He swung round to Matt, clearly in need of support.

  Matt Rider decided to stay silent and let his boss dig his own holes. Habgood Securities didn't specialize in anything. At least, not in the two years he'd been working for the back-street investigation agency. If a customer waved money, Ken Habgood took the job on.

  "I don't want sneaky surveillance," the visitor continued, a man in his fifties wearing a dark gray suit. He had introduced himself as Edward Blake, the dean at the English branch of the Helios Music Academy.

  "Surveillance has to be sneaky," Ken Habgood told him. "Otherwise you get noticed."

  "Oh, I want this to be noticed," Blake insisted, in an annoyingly booming voice. "I want all the bells and whistles." As he spoke, the air hissed loudly through his nose, spoiling his impression of sophistication.

  Ken frowned but kept quiet.

  "It's like this, Mr. Habgood. I want them to know they've been well and truly caught. And I want it on film." Blake smiled and his frosty attitude seemed to melt a little as he moved away from Ken's tidy desk. "They meet at the Academy swimming-pool -- when they think no one's around."

  Matt noticed Ken give a vague smile as he nodded.

  "Unfortunately the pool has a high wall round it." The thaw was short-lived. Blake hit the desk for the second time. "I want them caught."

  "Right." Ken seemed to be discovering his voice again.

  "I'm sorry," Blake said. "I'm finding this a bit of an ordeal. What I'm trying to convey is you'll have your work cut out getting photographs."

  "I presume you have some sort of plan to share with us." Matt didn't take to this oily man who'd arrived late for his appointment.

  Blake seemed to notice Matt for the first time. "The pool will be closing soon, so we have to hurry. This Indian summer isn't going to last. I'm accompanying the students to London for a concert tomorrow, and the staff are coming with me, which means the Helios Academy will be empty. You know what they say: 'When the cat's away the mice will play.'"

  "What do we do, climb a ladder with a camera and a piece of cheese?" Ken asked, grinning at Matt. "Matt could blow a trumpet. That would get their attention."

  Edward Blake stood at the window, his back to the room. Maybe he didn't understand Ken's idea of humor. "I wondered about using a long telephoto from the top of the Mount, but the damn hilltop is the best part of two miles away. Anyway, I need them to know they've been photographed."

  "So how do we get close enough?" Matt asked.

  "You could try climbing the wall around the pool, but unfortunately my partner has a dog. The thing goes berserk as soon as anyone strange comes within a hundred yards. I don't know how she puts up with it."

  "And the dog will be there?" Matt thought back with some anxiety to previous canine encounters.

  "Too right it will. You'll have to get over the wall to the pool quickly, before it makes a noise. You'd better have a look at these." Blake pulled a black wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket and removed two creased photographs.

  Ken took them and passed them on to Matt.

  "You can't see the pool," Blake explained. His voice and his body language now seemed more helpful. Matt guessed it must be hard to come to strangers and admit to your partner's betrayal.

  The two color prints showed the outside of a high wall built of concrete blocks, taken from ground level. But in the background Matt could see the top of the hill known as the Mount. He had to take Blake's word that there was a swimming pool behind the wall. If it wasn't for the dog, Ken's suggestion of a ladder seemed almost sensible. He handed the photos back to Ken.

  Ken returned them to the dean and looked anxious. "Do you have any suggestions on how we proceed, Mr. Blake? A helicopter perhaps?"

  "Far too expensive," Blake snapped. "And noisy. They'd hear it coming"

  "It was a joke," said Ken, grinning foolishly again.

  Blake sighed heavily. "You're the experts. Why don't you think of something?"

  "But the pool can be seen from the air?" Matt asked. He could see how it might be done. Quick, cheap, and extremely noticeable. Just as long as Zoé didn't find out in advance.

  "Of course it can," the suave visitor insisted.

  "And the mice will be playing tomorrow?"

  Blake looked interested. "The man is pretending to be sick, so he's excused himself from coming to London. My partner will be cavorting with him by the pool between two and three o'clock. Guaranteed."

  Ken started to protest. "Tomorrow is a bit short."

  "No trouble," Matt cut in. Blake might have an attitude problem, but they couldn't afford to lose this job. "I can be there with a camera."

  "And a helicopter?"

  Matt decided to ignore the sarcasm. "I've got it cracked."

  Ken frowned but the Academy dean seemed pleased. "I don't want any digital stuff. I want old fashioned film. And I'll get it processed myself, thank you. I don't want prints being passed around."

  "Naturally." Ken stood up from his desk. "It's standard practice with Habgood Securities to hand all evidence to the client." Thin and smartly dressed like Blake, but with untidy features, Ken was the tallest in the room. He gave Matt a look that said, I hope you know what you've let me in for.

  Edward Blake pointed to Matt. "Just make sure you come back with plenty of pictures. Clear ones."

  "He will," Ken said, with more confidence than Matt felt was deserved. "Do I send the bill to you or to the Helios Academy?

  "Send the invoice to me. This is private business." Blake laughed uneasily. "I hope you understand."

  Ken nodded sympathetically. "All our business is confidential. If I can help further, let me know. I have a good contact with a local lawyer."

  Blake looked up quickly. "Lawyer?"

  "In case there's a messy separation," Matt interrupted. "Isn't this what the job is about?" The man needed putting in his place.

  Edward Blake moved closer. His breath whistled down his nose.

  "Don't forget, if that dog barks just once, my partner will know someone's around. I want you to take the photographs before they put their clothes on. And I need to see their faces clearly. I hope you know what you're doing."

  "I know what I'm doing." Matt tried to appear positive. His plan was good, but it required a fair bit of luck along the way.

  Chapter Two

  MATT GAZED down at the distant Helios Music Academy in the valley. Fast-growing conifers surrounded the college grounds, so from anywhere except the top of the Mount a telephoto lens would be useless. And this was much too far away for photography. In any case, people by the pool would still be hidden by the surrounding wall The only way to see what was happening inside was by air. But not only would he have to clear the conifers, he'd need enough height to get over the roof of the tumbledown farmhouse on the way.

  He pulled the straps tightly around his shoulders. He'd been lucky to borrow this paraglider from one of his more adventurous mates at short notice. A practice run would help, but he would only be able to surprise the couple once -- assuming there was anyone by the pool.

  Small outcrops of brownish rock broke through this part of the Mount, but he'd managed to find enough flat grassland for a take-off run, between the rocks and gorse bushes. The sun was out and the early autumn afternoon felt unexpectedly warm. The target couple had no excuse for keeping their clothes on today.

  As soon as he swooped down and cleared the conifers he should get an unobstructed view of the pool and, with a bit of luck, Blake's partner and her lover lying beside it. He checked again for the strength of headwind and adjusted his helmet camera. He ran down the steep slope and the wind filled the cells of the paraglider as it inflated overhead, surging into the orange fabric and straining at the stitches.

  As the fabric rose above him, trying
to pull him skywards, the ground fell away and the paraglider seemed to collapse. It was probably nothing more than an illusion, but he always hated the sensation when it happened. It had been worse while learning in the French Alps a few years ago, where the drop below could be measured in hundreds of feet.

  Within seconds he entered a left cross-wind, which took him towards the only building on this part of the Mount, a disused farmhouse with most of its roof tiles missing. He was coming dangerously close to the tall chimney stack, so he tugged hard on the left control toggle and swung his legs to one side just in time to avoid contact with the old chimney pot. From up here the whole building looked unstable, ready to fall at any time.

  He cleared the dilapidated roof, the wind singing through the taut cords that suspended his body in space. He caught a glimpse of someone hiding in one of the large gorse bushes, but he had more to worry about than an eyewitness. To get detailed photographs he had to arrive as low as possible, and he needed to lose height and just scrape over the row of conifers at the Helios Academy. Now he could see one end of the swimming pool, but no sign of the amorous two. He could even smell the chlorine as he pulled the control cords, increasing the angle of attack in the wing above his head, slowing the paraglider and reducing the altitude almost to the level of the surrounding wall.

  He switched on the helmet camera, and the motor drive grabbed film at four frames a second, while the auto focus took care of the rapidly decreasing distance. Two naked bodies lay entwined on a large rug. They leaped up in surprise, a foolish thing to do in the circumstances, and tried to cover themselves with a towel. With a body like that, the man's modesty was definitely misplaced. But it was the dark-haired woman's body that stuck in his mind. She was no spring chicken, but she had fullness, a firmness, that many younger women would have killed for.

  He pulled violently at the control toggles and a small white dog jumped up, barking furiously. The wing of the paraglider banked sharply to the left, clipping the roof of the main building. With the Academy now behind, the ground leveled out, and the lower hedge of conifers loomed close. Unable to gain height he drew his feet up and only just cleared the top of the green branches. Ahead lay the landing area he'd selected in advance, with Ken Habgood waving by his sparkling white Ford. In the sun the car looked like a landing beacon.