Yesterday Was Long Ago: Part One

by Hedy Thalberg James

  “And the same to you Officer Volker. I hope it will be better than it has started.”

  “Oh? Please, do have a seat, sir,” Volker said, taking an old towel, wiping an equally old and worn chair and moving the chair politely towards his guest. “Would you permit me to offer you a cup of tea with rum? No doubt you had a tiresome and chilly journey here,” Volker inquired, showing some concern, yet inwardly feeling quite proud to be called an officer by a Count from Lindenfels.

  “I can’t think of anything more comforting right now,” George answered gratefully, taking off his coat and commencing with his story from the very beginning, recounting Christina’s desperate message to her brother via Benedict, their plan to rescue her, and ending the story, word for word, as Egon had suggested. He felt like an actor who had been rehearsing his role a dozen times before going on the stage, only his was not a play, but the reality of a murder. He realized that his part had to be convincing sooner or later to the highest authorities, and beyond any doubt, would be played out in a military court. Only God knew what would be the outcome of all this. “I thought I’d start out properly by first seeking your advice. After all, you are a man of the law as well,” he finally concluded sincerely.

  Volker sighed deeply with a mixture of sadness and disgust. “It is unfortunate that we are only civil servants and that the military is out of bounds to us, no matter what the crime! It’s the most frustrating part of our profession, and the year of 1848, with its still lingering consequences, has taught us that much once more. Nothing seems to change, except that which makes matters worse!” he complained with a sigh. “I shall, however, accompany you to wake the late Major von Walden’s servants and keep them under control until the proper authorities arrive. Drunkenness can sometimes result in devastation.”

  “Thank you, Officer Volker. Two of the Reinhardts’ staff were asked to stay there for the very same reason you just mentioned.”

  Volker was very elated by George’s remark and thought to himself, “At least I am on the right path in pursuing this, which after all, is my first murder in all of the eighteen years of service. And a grueling and intriguing one at that!”

  “Then permit me to ride to the garrison with you. Hopefully, we’ll find someone to help us and lead us to the right officer in charge,” he told George. Now he considered himself a part of the Reinhardt, Auersbach, and Wiland team, seeing this as a challenge after years of doing nothing more exciting than riding around aimlessly to see if anyone were in need of him. Excepting the occasional theft, of course. “If you don’t mind, sir.”

  “To be sure,” George agreed and drank the last sip of his tea, taking out of his pocket a small flask of brandy and put it on the table. “I had forgotten I still had this,” he smiled. “It’s our own brand.”

  “It’s really not necessary, sir,” Volker stammered in delight and surprise.

  “Oh, well. Try it some day and let me know how you like it.”

  The policeman thanked him again and carefully placed it on the top of his cupboard next to all his meager souvenirs, the Auersbach flask outshining them all, and promising himself not to touch it, at least not for a while. Maybe if a special occasion arose, like the one today! On the other hand, an empty bottle with a beautifully shaped silver top would still be the most ornamental object in his display, especially with a name like Auersbach inscribed on the bottle! And who knows, after a hefty murder case like the one tonight, he might just have earned a good drop of brandy!

  On the way to the next village, it was mostly Policeman Volker who elaborated on his own observation of casualties, which mostly consisted of finding some destitute woman laying on the wayside, completely exhausted, penniless, and undernourished, their husbands having gone to seek employment away from home, in Vienna. “I take them home with me and have my wife bring them back to strength a bit until I find them a place to stay.”

  “You are indeed a charitable family, Officer Volker. And how many children do you have yourself?”

  “Six, sir.” He smiled proudly, adding, “With my large vegetable garden and a bit of livestock, consisting of some chickens, geese, a cow, and a couple pigs, no one ever has to go to bed hungry in my house!”

  George smiled at Volker, but at the end of their conversation and until the arrival at the garrison, a new world opened for him. One that never had been seen by many of his contemporaries, who were of the belief that the poor would always be among them, and that was that. This humble policeman, who probably was proud to have had three years of formal education, had been able to teach him differently. Tonight, he had learned a lot by observing Egon and Benedict, and now Officer Volker. This would be a night he would not be able to easily strike out of his mind or soul. They were simple, but very honorable people, whom he would always be proud to have met.

  “I regard it not only as my duty, but am pleased to be of service to you and Mr. Reinhardt! Furthermore, I believe Vienna will rest much easier knowing that those two perverts have finally ceased to draw breath! As far as I’m concerned, they should have been thrown to the wolves a long time ago. Or to the people, who have had to endure their mean ways and are still grieving at the loss of their innocent loved ones which those two have on their conscience!” Just then, the officer interrupted himself. “I see the lights of the garrison!” Volker announced with excitement.

  “Thank God for that,” the Count replied, preparing himself for the next round.

  Both men found the officers still singing and celebrating, lifting their full drinking glasses and toasting to one another at every given chance, hardly paying the slightest attention to George Auersbach or the policeman’s dilemma, just continuing to roar with laughter at George’s story of having found von Walden and Altmann in one bed.

  “What did I tell you years ago! I have always known something was very wrong with those two, but no one ever believed me,” one of the Majors addressed a group of fellow officers.

  “Couldn’t have happened to a couple of nicer chaps,” quipped another. “I imagine that all of Vienna will be draped in black for the mourning of those two.” This induced a fourth to interrupt with, “I shall personally order a forty-two gun salute!”

  “Let’s drink to that,” they shouted from all directions, and toasted again and again to each other.

  George realized that all their chatter and gossip would not lead him anywhere, and noticing the policeman, who had joined in with their drinking and was apparently enjoying the opportunity to be among officers of the Emperors’ cavalry, he finally tapped one of the officers on the shoulder asking, “Where do we go from here?”

  He repeated his question when a major offered him a glass of wine and answered laughingly, “Home, sir,” smiling at his own advice.

  “Home?”

  “Yes, Count! This is a clear case involving von Walden’s and Altmann’s unit in Vienna! It is also quite an embarrassment to anyone in uniform, and our garrison will therefore not accept any part of it,” he finalized, ready to change the subject.

  “It’s not our problem, to start with,” a colonel standing nearby with a cigar between his teeth said, smirking. “I shall, however, make a note on our blackboard just in case some somber officer passes by and has nothing better on his mind than to read it,” he conceded with a grin.

  “Everyone will know as soon as the gates of the city open on New Year’s Day,” shouted one of the majors over the jubilant and noisy crowd.

  “I’ve got two of your dead officers on my hands! What are your orders?” George demanded impatiently.

  They just looked at each other indifferently, going about what they were doing, when once again, the cigar-joggling colonel intervened. “If you want an order, then I shall give you one! Just leave them there since there is no chance for them to escape!”

  More laughs and more toasts came from the crowd, to the dismay of George and the policeman, who were stunned by their unconcerned attitudes. George felt, nevertheless, immensely relieved. He restrain
ed himself, however, from commenting other than to wish ‘all brave officers’ a very Happy New Year and received a “same to you gentlemen.” Both were shaking their heads as they were mounting their horses.

  “No wonder we lose so many wars,” Policeman Volker grumbled.

  “As Napoleon once said, ‘Lions led by asses! The lions dying by the thousands, while the asses indulge themselves, waiting for a new command.’” George smiled malevolently, the policeman joining in with an equally malicious smirk. Riding away, and in utter agreement, they were exchanging many more anecdotes referring to the Emperor’s army until they parted at the police station. Count Auersbach thanked Volker profusely with a promise to keep in touch with him on the matter.

  George, although tired to the point of exhaustion, was equally grateful to have won the second round and knew in his heart that the following ones would be a clear case of battling it out between the Reinhardts and the Austrian military, with him possibly having to appear as witness. Sensing that the whole affair would probably constitute a great embarrassment to the army as much as to the Reinhardts, he figured that it shouldn’t be too hard to answer their questions, as he was well prepared by now. Be that as it may, he would have to talk to Karl and see for himself what else had developed in this deplorable affair. Poor, poor Reinhardts! Never would he want to be in their shoes tonight.

  ∼

  As expected, Karl was quite morose and gloomy as he took the reins to head home and finally leave this forsaken place, hoping never to come back to it again. He adopted a complete air of solitude, preparing himself for his encounter with his anxious parents. He reflected that this was not going to be an easy task and there was no way to tell them that their beloved daughter had met with this gruesome fate, and to think that he had to bring this message to his father with a severe heart condition, when all excitement should be avoided as his physician had ordered.

  Von Walden and Altmann’s deaths posed no immediate problem as far as he could see and he had been assured of as much by George. If, of course, all would adhere to Egon’s story, as nothing better had offered itself. They all—especially poor Benedict—had a lot to lose.

  Mark and Ulrich Wiland volunteered to interrupt the party and explain this horrible tragedy on the Reinhardts’ behalf. Madeleine also insisted on returning with someone of legitimate authority to confirm the two officer’s deaths and whatever else would have to be taken care of, considering herself an eyewitness.

  With his thoughts still on George’s ordeal, Karl, followed by a somber looking Madeleine, arrived at the castle and entered the festive and decorated vestibule. Mark and Ulrich, as a well-rehearsed team, went in two different directions upon their arrival. Karl’s heart was pounding hard, approaching his mother, who had a look of visible strain and fear on her face.

  “Wait, Karl! You don’t have to tell me. Christina has changed her mind again!”

  “No, Mother, she has not. It’s a lot worse than that, I’m afraid,” he stammered, now completely losing his composure, and finally adding, “Please, do sit down with me, Mother.” His mouth was almost too dry to form the words properly. “We found her frozen to death,” he continued, his eyes filling with tears. He had carefully planned to reveal all the horrid details much, much later, and if at all possible, in the presence of the Rombergs, counting on their strong support in all the crises that had arisen so far.

  “No! Oh no!” she screamed with a shrill, disbelieving voice, holding her hands to her face and running back and forth, causing the music to stop instantly, the guests looking around in utter bewilderment.

  At the same time Mark and Ulrich had reached the podium to announce Christina’s untimely death, Karl was shouting for a doctor to help him with his father, who had fallen to the floor gasping for air. “Over here, please! Father is having a heart attack! Please help!” he called out again and again in desperation, clinging tightly to the arm of the pharmacist, who had spent the past hours with the restlessly waiting Reinhardts.

  “Your father must have had a premonition about something terrible having occurred, seeing your mother’s horrified face. He kept looking back and forth between us, reaching for his chest and falling to the floor without a single word,” the pharmacist said calmly, unable to say anything more about his closest and most trusted friend’s condition. He, like the other guests, had formed a wide circle, watching in awe as the three attending physicians did their utmost to revive Otto Reinhardt. Stephany, who until moments ago had been heard screaming Christina’s name, was finally persuaded by the ever-present Mrs. Romberg and her two daughters to calm herself, and was brought to Otto’s sitting room. Like her son Karl at Louise’s deathbed, Stephany also fainted and had to be carried to her room.

  “Your father had a fatal heart attack, Mr. Reinhardt. He died instantly. We are extremely sorry not to have been able to revive him.” A stony-faced physician extended his hand to Karl, adding, “It was so incredibly fast and hard to believe, since Mr. Romberg and I were talking to him at the time it happened.”

  “I must have done something terribly wrong in my life to deserve two deaths in one night,” Karl said to no one in particular, standing motionless like a statue. “I don’t know how I will ever be able to face my mother with one bad news after another!”

  The guests around him looked at one another helplessly, trying to find the right words to say, and truly mourning with him, some without any expression other than fright and whispering prayers for the deceased, however, all feeling wretchedly for Stephany’s enormous loss and grief and bleak future without her beloved Otto. They now retreated one by one, bowing towards Karl as even a kind word of condolence or a well-meant handshake would have been too much for this broken-hearted young man to endure.

  The ballroom was now semi-dark and deserted by the entire happy crowd who had celebrated the new year with vigor and enthusiasm. Only the fireplaces went undisturbed, crackling, with their tireless flames somehow performing joyous dances for an almost paralyzed and spiritless Karl who was sitting in his favorite chair staring into the fire, his hand clasped under his chin, desperately searching for peace and solace as his mind was racing with incomprehensible speed in every imaginable direction.

  “What next my good friend? It’s four in the morning,” George, who had just returned from his fruitless venture to the military, muttered hoarsely, reaching around Karl’s shoulders to embrace him.

  “Sit with me please, George! I don’t know what I shall do next,” Karl invited him in a daze, but ever so glad to have his best friend next to him. “George, I’m on the verge of refusing to believe a day like this one. I’m still trying to come to terms with my sister’s death, and now I’m faced with my father’s too! How on earth can anyone expect to stay sane with such terrible things happening so fast?” Karl moaned, pouring some drinks.

  “I’ve heard all types of stories on my way over here from your departing guests. No one particularly elaborated on Christina, Walden, or Altmann’s deaths. It’s as if they expected foul play all along! All really cried more about your father’s death, and are now fearful about your mother’s condition.” Karl nodded in silence. “Needless to say, I gave all of them Egon’s story, which by now I have memorized to perfection!”

  “What about the police and military?” Karl asked tersely.

  “Let me fill our glasses again and then I’ll tell you everything that happened.”

  Karl listened attentively to George’s detailed report, repulsed at his recount of the military’s little interest and bad behavior. George finally arrived at the end of the story and Karl thanked him for all his efforts in his time of deepest need and despair, adding, “I agree whole heartedly, George. From now on it’ll be between our lawyers and the military. So let’s get a few hours of sleep. Thanks to our servants, everything else is going to go smoothly!”

  “You do have the very best servants, Karl.”, George said somberly, thinking of Egon and Benedict, who had no qualms about risking their lives
for the Reinhardts. “And where are the Romberg girls?” he asked.

  “All, including your wife, are in my mother’s bedroom keeping an eye on her. I wish to God they would tell her about Papa! They are so much stronger than I am at the moment,” he sighed, still looking forlorn and devastated.

  “I have learned my lesson today, watching Madeleine in action and meeting her again, returning with two doctors to Christina’s house. She made me feel rather inadequate! I never realized how brave women can really be!”

  “George! You only have to look at your mother-in-law. She’s convincing enough with her two canes. See how much she can still accomplish in her condition. A lot more than I could ever get done!”

  “More than we both could,” George mused.

  “Mrs. Romberg and her family were and always will be the closest people to me, following my family, and you are of course included in my family.”

  “Yes, Karl, I know.” George smiled ruefully, reflecting on the fact that in less than six years, they had both lost three of their dearest family.

  ∼

  Madeleine, wrapped in a heavy fur blanket, had returned to Christina’s house, accompanying two doctors who sat on either side of her, giving her their undivided attention as she retold, very carefully, Christina’s tragic death.

  “How on earth could anyone other than a physician obtain a bottle of chloroform, unless von Walden or Altmann had a connection in the hospital. It will definitely be a murder case involving quite a number of people,” Dr. Faulkner concluded.

  “I bet Mark and Ulrich will have a field day with the military,” Dr. Schneider stated, always speaking on first name basis when referring to the Wilands, as they were his close friends.

  All three looked at each other in surprise when their coach came to an abrupt halt. An officer, identifying himself to be a coroner, asked directions to the Walden place.

  “Follow us, Sir! We are also on our way there,” Anton replied solemnly. He had replaced Egon as coachman.