by Vreni Fox
I scanned the room and confirmed that the dining room was empty. I crept along the wall as silently as possible, stopped beside the pastry case, and peeked around the corner just in case someone was hiding behind the counter. All clear.
Next I made my way to the kitchen, where the intruder had stolen my book earlier. It was impossible for me to sneak in; I had to enter by a pair of swinging doors. Instead of trying to sneak, I decided to catch whoever might have been in the kitchen by surprise.
“Freeze,” I yelled, bursting through the swinging doors, hoping that I would be mistaken for the cops.
I looked around. There was no one in there.
Whoever had unlocked the door was gone. Now I just had to figure out what was missing or damaged.
I combed over every square centimeter of the dining room and kitchen, looking for anything that might have been disturbed or removed. I couldn’t find a thing. All of my books were in place, all of my kitchen wares were exactly where I left them, even the cash register was untouched. I looked through the refrigerators and couldn’t find a single hair out of place.
The harder I looked, the weirder I felt. Someone had been inside of my bakery, or at least unlocked the door. What had that person done?
Maybe it was someone who was looking for clues to solve the murder, I reasoned with myself. Maybe even the police. But then why had this person stolen my recipe book? What kind of clue was that?
My living quarters were above the bakery, but they weren’t accessible from inside. I grabbed a quiche for Heinrich and went out back.
As usual, he was standing at his gate waiting for supper.
“You hungry?” I asked him, handing over an apple and smoked turkey egg tart. “Yes, it’s your supper time. Did you see anything weird today?”
Once again I found myself wishing that he could talk. Instead, he just wolfed down his supper and stared at me, same as usual. “One day we’ll figure out how to help you, okay?”
I scratched behind his ears and took the stairs up to my home.
The door to my apartment was still locked. That was a relief, I guess. At least I could feel safe in my home. Whoever had been in the bakery hadn’t been upstairs. Or, if they had, they had the courtesy to lock the door on their way out.
I entered my home and kicked off my shoes. I needed a drink. I poured myself a big glass of red wine and considered the offerings inside of my little refrigerator in my kitchen. Mostly leftover pastries that were too old to sell but too good to throw out.
I closed the refrigerator door. I didn’t even have any appetite.
“Pudding?” I called, trying to wake him from his slumber. He usually liked to spend his days looking out the window of the bakery, but at night he got into the apartment through the cat door and slept on my bed until I got in.
“Pudding, you are not going to believe what I found out today. Seriously, you are going to want to puke when I tell you this.”
“Pudding?” I called again. He could be a lazy boy, but I was surprised that he wasn’t interested in what had gone down with Mahler. He had been pretty worried before I left.
“Puds?” I called into my bedroom. Still no answer.
The bed was empty.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
I walked briskly through my apartment, looking through each of my small, cluttered rooms for my familiar.
Pudding was no kitten, and it wasn’t like him to play games. I called his name over and over, though I knew in my heart that something was wrong. Pudding would never just vanish when I needed him.
Nevertheless, I looked under the bed, in the closet, and behind the shower curtain. All places that a normal cat would hide, though Pudding was no normal cat. I didn’t want to believe that he was really gone.
After I had reassured myself that Pudding was absolutely for sure nowhere in the apartment I went back outside. Pudding was free to come and go as he pleased, but it wasn’t like him to wander off on his own when we had any kind of serious business at hand, and this meeting with Mahler definitely counted as serious business.
Pudding would have wanted to know what happened with Moritz Mahler. As far as he knew, Mahler had murdered me and dumped my body in someone else’s pig pen. He wouldn’t have just disappeared like this while he was worried about me.
“Have you seen him?” I asked Heinrich, though I knew the pig couldn’t respond. The pig stared back at me, his expression blank as usual. I silently cursed whoever had placed a curse on the pig. Next, I checked the herb garden and the roof of my tool shed, where Pudding sometimes liked to sunbathe. He wasn’t in either location.
Back into the bakery I went.
Of course.
How could I have been so stupid?
A male figure that I loved was in grave danger. It wasn’t Horst or Conrad. It was Pudding. My best friend and constant companion. I hadn’t even thought of him and now God only knew how he was suffering.
This was definitely a police matter.
I rang up Horst on his cel. Voicemail. I called again. Same. I called over and over and over until he finally picked up.
“Hildi?” he sounded panicked. “What’s going on? Are you in danger? Is it Mahler? Are you still at the Hotel?”
“Yes,” I answered, choking back tears. “I am in danger. And no. I’m at home. Turns out Mahler didn’t kill Chantal Nussbaum. He’s a creep, but he’s innocent. I’m sure of it. I’ll explain later, no time now. Someone broke in again. To my bakery.”
“What?” Horst replied, “you need to get out of there, right now. Is the guy still in there or are you alone?”
“I’m alone,” I couldn’t help crying now. “They’ve got Pudding. Whoever broke in kidnapped him. I don’t know where he is.”
“The cat?” Horst asked with significantly less urgency in his voice. Maybe even with exasperation. “Someone broke into your bakery and stole your cat?”
“Yeah,” I sobbed.
“Did they break the glass?”
“No, the door was unlocked.”
“Isn’t he an outside cat? How do you know he isn’t just out chasing females? Isn’t that what big grizzly tom cats like him do at night?”
“I just know, okay? Let’s just say I know my cat.” I was getting frustrated. I knew in my heart that Pudding was in trouble. I didn’t know how to communicate that knowledge to Horst in a way that didn’t make me sound like a crazy cat lady.
“So first someone let themselves into your bakery and stole your recipe book and now someone came in and stole your pet cat?”
“Yes. Horst, look, I didn’t know who else to call. I’m desperate. Can you please just help me with this?”
“Yes, Hildi, of course I’ll help you.” Horst sighed audibly over the phone. “This is more of a friends thing than a police thing though, okay?”
“Okay, fine, please just help me with this.”
“Let me just get changed and I’ll be right over. But Hildi, we need to have a talk. Earlier today you decided to ignore everything I’ve ever told you and take the investigation into your own hands. That was extremely dangerous. I guess things went well with Mahler, but you had no idea what he was capable of. You also were apparently harassing him for no reason, if he is innocent. That won’t help my investigation, and it won’t make you look good if he complains to Munich. Now you’re calling me like it’s an emergency because you can’t find your cat. I know that you’ve been under a lot of pressure, but you really need to get a hold of yourself. Maybe talk to someone about your anxiety. I’m worried about you.”
“Okay Horst, just please help me out with this and I promise that I won’t do anymore reckless stuff.”
Well, that hadn’t gone quite as I imagined, but at least I was getting some help. I was in a state of mad panic. Pudding was gone, and the orbuculum had indicated to me that his life was in danger and he was going to be in a lot of pain.
The thought of Pudding being tortured made me feel faint and shaky. Pudding was a tough cookie but
he was used to living his life in relative comfort. He slept in my bed and ate his meals of fresh meat and fish out of an antique crystal dish that I had picked up at a local swap meet. Then it occurred to me: the orbuculum. Maybe it could provide me with more insight into his whereabouts. The crystal ball had warned me that Pudding was in danger, though I hadn’t understood. Maybe it could also point me in the right direction when it came to finding him.
I ran back upstairs into my apartment and pulled the crystal ball back out of its box, where it was still resting on my bedroom floor from the last time I had tried to use it. I hadn’t returned it to its ordinary place stored with all of the rest of my mother’s belongings. I was glad that I didn’t have to go digging around for it.
My hands were shaking and sweating. I had to be careful not to drop the orb and break it before I even got started. I gently lowered it onto the middle of my bedspread where I knew that it would be safe and I dried my hands on the skirt of my dress.
I knew that I did my best work when I was calm, but there was nothing I could do. My nerves were shaking me and it was an emergency situation. No scented candles or deep breathing were going to help me now. I just had to try my best and get it over with. I rubbed the ball, chanted, and hoped for the best.
At first, nothing happened. I just got the ball wet and slippery with my sweat. Then I started to see it, or rather, feel it.
The ball wasn’t hot and slippery from my sweat; Pudding was in a place that was hot and wet. And dark. It was familiar to me somehow, but nothing I recognized. It smelled like smoke and salt and minerals.
Pudding was trapped in a small, dark place but he wasn’t in pain. At least, not that I could tell. Just uncomfortable from having hot, wet fur. And angry. I could feel the rage emanating from him.
Where was this place? A sauna?
I wasn’t getting any further with the orb, so I put it away and reviewed my clues again. Who would have access to a hot, dark, wet place in Drachenfels? And why would someone put my cat in a sauna?
I checked my watch. It had been only ten minutes since I spoke to Horst. It would probably take him at least twenty to reach me.
I hated feeling like my hands were tied, but I had just promised to Horst that I wouldn’t do any more rash or reckless stuff. Plus, I didn’t know quite what to do anyways. Nevertheless, I felt as though I had to do something. I couldn’t just sit around on my butt twiddling my thumbs while Pudding was in danger.
I reviewed my list of suspects again. I knew for a fact at this point that it was a resident of Drachenfels. Moritz Mahler had helped me to figure that one out, though not on purpose. There was no way that it was a coincidence that someone who didn’t understand magic happened to steal both my spellbook and my familiar. Whoever was stealing from me definitely knew what the book and cat meant to me.
That left me with a relatively short list. I looked it over, trying to piece together the information I had into some coherent theory about what had actually happened to Mandy Unterwegs.
And then it was like a lightbulb went off. I had it. I knew who was responsible; it should have been obvious to me the entire time. And I also knew where Pudding was.
I sat on my hands for a minute, waiting for Officer Horst to arrive so that we could plan our big rescue. My cat was in trouble and there was a murderer on the loose in Drachenfels, one who might strike again at any moment. One who already had it in for me.
I decided that I couldn’t wait.
I dialed Horst again, this time glad that I went straight to voicemail because I had absolutely no desire at all to argue with him about what I was about to do.
“Hi Horst. It’s me again. Good news! I know who has Pudding and I know who killed Mandy…”
I left him the details he needed to meet up with me. I knew for a fact that he was going to be angry, but I couldn’t wait any longer. Plus I wasn’t planning to do anything super crazy. I just wanted to make sure that Pudding was safe and our culprit didn’t escape.
I got in my van and was on my way up the mountain in a heartbeat, ready to finally put an end to this nightmare.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
I pulled up to the mouth of the Dragon’s Den just in time to see Horst pull in with his lights and siren on.
“God damn it, Hildi, what was that? Ten minutes? That you managed to stay out of trouble? What happened to ‘you weren’t going to do anything reckless?’”
“Well I called you, didn’t I? It’s not like I went into the cave alone. Besides,” I indicated the big, black Mercedes sedan, “look. I was right. We didn’t have any time to waste. They could have disappeared if I had just waited around for someone else to take care of this. Or worse.”
“Hildi, that doesn’t mean anything. It’s not illegal for people to visit the caves at night, though Lord knows that I think it should be. It’s not against the law and it’s not proof of anything, but it is dangerous. People get lost in these caves all the time. Sometimes people enter and never leave.”
“I know,” I argued back. “That’s what I’m afraid of. My cat is in there. I don’t want him to be one of those people who never leaves. I have to get him out.”
“You don’t know for a fact that your cat is in that cave, Hildi,” Horst put his hands on his hips and gazed inside the cave’s gaping mouth. “I don’t even get why you think he’s in there, but then again, I don’t quite understand why any of us is here right now.”
“Can we please just get him out?”
“No!” Horst raised his voice. “We are not going to do anything. You are going to sit right here in your van and wait patiently. No running around the forest, no driving off to another mystery location to confront someone, and sure as sugar no entering that cave in the middle of the night. That’s the last thing I need, for you to disappear in the cave so I have to call backup to come find you. I am going to take a look in the cave to find out what the heck is going on here and make sure that it’s nothing weird.”
“But--”
“No. Period. No buts. If you want me to help you find your cat, these are my terms.”
Horst and I stared each other down.
“Hildi, look,” Horst approached me and put his hand on my waist. I could feel my heart rate increase and I hoped that he didn’t feel me tense up under his touch. “I know that you want to save your cat. I know that you want to catch Mandy Unterwegs’ murderer. I know that you love Drachenfels and your bakery and your neighbors. I know all of that because I know that you are a good person. One of the best ones that I know, in fact.”
I didn’t know how to answer. I was flustered, and I was sure that it showed on my face.
“That’s why I don’t want you to get hurt. Sometimes, Hildi, you can be a little… impulsive. You don’t always think things all the way through when you think that someone needs your help. It’s not your job to rush in like a knight in shining armor to rescue whoever needs rescuing. That’s my job. So please,” Horst was now so close to me that I could feel his breath, “just let me do my job. I promise that I’ll do it well.”
“Okay,” I peeped back, completely failing at my efforts not to sound nervous.
“Now you just stay right here,” Horst called over his shoulder one last time as he entered the Dragon’s Den with his big police issue flashlight.
He disappeared immediately into the cave’s abyss. I checked my watch. Okay. I’d give him ten minutes, and then if he wasn’t out by then, I was going in after him.
I knew that I had promised him (again) that I’d stay out of trouble, but he couldn’t know what kind of trouble he was in. He undoubtedly believed that all of the stories he had ever heard about the cave were just that: stories. Myself… I wasn’t so sure.
I paced back and forth at the mouth of the cave, straining to hear what was going on inside. Nothing but silence. These caves ran throughout the entire mountain. I had no idea how deep they actually went. There were a million little hiding places, and a million dead ends and pitfalls.
I tried not to think about what Horst had just said to me, but his monologue just kept going around and around in circles in my mind. What had he meant, exactly by ‘one of the best people he knew?’ Did he mean that in, like, a ‘I would elect her to City Council’ type of way or a ‘I envision her as the future mother of my children’ type of way?
Maybe Horst was just waiting for me to make a move on him. I was a modern type of woman, I could do it. I just needed the right opportunity. We needed to be alone, preferably not in some situation involving imminent danger. I just couldn’t seem to get him in a situation like that.
I checked my watch again. Seven minutes had passed.
I decided that was close enough to ten minutes.
I got the flashlight from my glovebox and followed Horst into the Dragon’s Den.
Immediately upon entering, the temperature rose several degrees and my nose was hit with that familiar scent from the orbuculum. Briny water, minerals, wet Earth, and something I couldn’t quite place. It wasn’t an unpleasant smell, but it was slightly unsettling. Like I had crossed some boundary and entered an alternate universe, even. Some place where people didn’t really belong.
The mouth of the cave was huge, but soon broke off into several different paths I could take. I tried to listen for any sound indicating which way anyone had gone, but all I could hear was the echo of water dripping.
Instead I had to use my flashlight. I shined it onto the dirt on the ground and guessed that Horst had done the same. All the footprints in the cave led in the same direction.
The path that I followed was tight and winding. I tried to keep my flashlight pointed at the ground so that I could see, but also so that I wouldn’t alert anyone else of my presence. I hugged the cave’s walls as I proceeded along, trying not to think of all the creepy crawlies that I was probably cozying up against.
I was beginning to get the feeling that this path was never going to end. I knew that I was still heading in the right direction, because there hadn’t been any other options. I understood what was taking Horst such a long time, though. This path was so long that it must have led us right to the heart of the mountain. Good thing I wasn’t claustrophobic.