‘I am sorry,’ he said, obviously embarrassed. ‘It’s just, well, I saw …’
With empathy in his eyes, Ulster looked at Hauser and tried to figure out what had just happened. For a split-second or two, it seemed as if the old man had gone somewhere else in his mind. ‘You saw, what?’
He swallowed hard and tried to explain. ‘As a jeweller, I could not help but notice the ring on your finger. With your permission, may I take a closer look?’
Ulster stared at his right hand. The gold ring was a permanent fixture. Not only because of its personal significance, but also because of his weight gain over the years. ‘Unfortunately, I’m unable to remove the ring. My fingers are a tad too plump.’
‘That is fine,’ he assured him. ‘I can work round that.’
With some effort, Hauser picked up the magnification lamp. It was attached to a manoeuvrable spring arm and clamped to the counter. As everyone watched closely, he slowly pulled the powerful lens towards Ulster’s hand and adjusted the settings on the light so he could get a better look at the family crest on the ring. When the image – an eagle with a sword in one talon and a scroll in the other – came into view, the old man gasped in recognition. He hadn’t seen the coat of arms in more than sixty years.
‘Are you an Ulster?’ the old man asked.
He was taken aback. ‘Yes, sir. My name is Petr Ulster.’
‘And your grandfather, what was his name?’
‘Conrad. Conrad Ulster.’
The old man trembled slightly. A few seconds passed before he lifted his eyes to meet Ulster’s gaze. For the first time, everyone noticed that the old man had started to cry. ‘Then it has come full circle.’
Hauser’s son rushed forward. ‘Papa, what is wrong?’
The old man shook his head for several seconds. When he finally spoke, his voice quivered with emotion. ‘Nothing is wrong, my son. Everything is right. The right people have come for the case. Please retrieve it from the vault.’
His son nodded, and moved away to fulfil the request.
Meanwhile, the old man slowly regained his composure. First, he wiped away his tears with his sleeve, then he pointed to a stack of folding chairs in the corner of the room. After years of being hunched over a counter, his spine was so curved he had trouble lifting his head.
‘Please take a seat. I’d like to look at you while we talk.’
As they carried their chairs across the room, Friedrich Hauser returned from the vault with a plain, wooden crate. It was nondescript in every way. He set it gently on the floor next to his father’s stool, then he took a chair for himself. From this point forward, he was like everyone else; he wanted to know what was going on, because he too had no idea what was about to be unveiled.
Hauser cleared his throat. ‘By now, all of you must think I am a crazy old man. I assure you I am not. My body might be failing, but my mind is still sharp. As for my tears, they came from an unexpected source. I have always known that someone would come for the case. I have been prepared for that for half of my life. What I didn’t know was who. At my age, nothing in the world surprises me. I have lived too long and seen too much to ever be astonished. Nevertheless, I was caught off guard by your ring.’
Ulster pointed at his finger. ‘My ring?’
Hauser nodded. ‘I have not seen it for decades. But, even with failing eyes, I recognized it at once. An artist always remembers his art.’
Ulster quickly connected the dots. ‘You made my ring?’
‘I did indeed. I carved the crest myself.’
‘I don’t understand. This was my grandfather’s ring.’
‘Yes,’ Hauser confirmed, ‘it belonged to your grandfather, but I was the one who made it. My father gave it to him after the war as a token of our thanks.’
‘Thanks? Thanks for what?’
‘For everything,’ Hauser explained. ‘For hiding our jewels during the war. For keeping his word when others had lied. For protecting the case from Nazi hands. Your grandfather was an amazing man. Without him, the item would have been lost for ever.’
Payne heard the words and breathed a sigh of relief. Only two days had passed since he had called Ulster and told him about the bunker in Garmisch-Partenkirchen. At the time, the discovery of Ulster’s coat of arms on a crate of missing artwork had been potentially devastating. It had threatened to stain Ulster’s name and tear apart everything the Archives represented. But after hearing Hauser’s heartfelt speech, he knew the Ulster legacy was safe.
Alexander Hauser patted Ulster on his shoulder. ‘Your grandfather was a hero.’
Ulster beamed with pride. ‘I guess he was.’
The old man waved his finger. ‘There is no guessing about it. Conrad Ulster was a hero. He saved countless treasures across Europe, then returned them to the rightful owners. If not for him, this store and many others never would have reopened. That is why my family gave him the ring. And that is why I’m glad you’ve come for the case.’
71
Payne stared at the wooden crate on the floor next to Hauser’s stool. Nothing about it seemed special. It was made of wood and looked eerily similar to the crates found inside the hidden bunker. As far as he could tell, the main difference was its size. It was about two feet in width, length and height. Certainly not large enough to hold an enormous treasure.
‘Sir,’ Payne said, ‘you keep mentioning the item. Can you tell us about its history?’
Hauser paused in thought, trying to decide where he should start a narrative that had been going strong for more than a hundred years. After a while, he posed a question to the group. ‘Tell me, are you familiar with Nostradamus?’
Payne and Jones exchanged knowing glances. Both of them were quite familiar with the sixteenth-century French prophet, renowned for his ability to see the future. Less than a year ago, they had discovered one of his lost manuscripts, and it had nearly got them killed.
Ulster answered for the group. ‘Yes, sir.’
‘And what about his connection to Ludwig?’
Heidi shook her head. ‘That’s news to me.’
‘Me, too,’ Ulster added.
Hauser smiled. ‘Then that is where we shall begin – way back in 1864 when Ludwig was still a prince and his father was slowly dying.’
The group leaned forward, not wanting to miss a single word.
‘King Maximilian the Second summoned his son to his bedside and warned him of a prophecy that he believed foretold the death of Ludwig. Though it did not appear in his book Les Propheties, the quatrain has long been attributed to Nostradamus, a man who has influenced many a king across Europe and many a man across time.’
Ulster interrupted him. ‘What was the prophecy?’
The old man answered in fluent French.
Quand le Vendredi Saint tombera sur le jour de Saint George,
Paques sur le jour de Saint Marc,
Et la Fete Dieu sur le jour de Saint Jean,
Tout le monde pleurera.
From personal experience, Ulster knew that Payne and Jones weren’t language experts, so he translated the verse into English.
When Good Friday falls on Saint George’s Day,
Easter on Saint Mark’s Day,
And Corpus Christi on Saint John’s Day,
All the world will weep.
The group pondered the quatrain for several seconds, trying to decipher its meaning. Even though Ludwig’s name wasn’t mentioned, they knew the verse could have been written about his death. Or not. That was the problem with most of Nostradamus’s prophecies; they could be interpreted in a number of different ways. Of course, that was also part of their allure.
Heidi spoke first. ‘Have those events ever occurred in the same year?’
‘It’s happened once. The year was 1886.’
She grinned. ‘The year Ludwig was murdered.’
Hauser nodded. ‘For two decades, Ludwig feared the approach of 1886 like a sailor watching an approaching storm. In his heart, he knew he w
ouldn’t survive that ill-fated year no matter what he did. Somehow that gave him the courage to finish his dream of creating a kingdom across the sea. Ironically, it was his pursuit of that dream that ultimately got him killed.’
Ulster frowned at the irony. ‘His cabinet found out?’
Hauser nodded again. ‘First Ludwig was arrested, then they silenced him for ever. The Bavarian government proclaimed its innocence in the whole affair, but I know the truth. Everyone who was living in Munich back then knows what happened. They murdered our king.’
Jones did the maths in his head. ‘Wait. You’re not that old … are you?’
The old man laughed. ‘Sometimes I feel like I am, but all of this occurred three decades before I was born. It was my grandfather, not me, who lived during Ludwig’s reign. When I was a young man, he told me about Ludwig’s life, and death, so I could pass the story on to future generations. It had a great impact coming from my grandfather, since he actually knew the king.’
Heidi stared in amazement. She was talking to someone who had second-hand knowledge about Ludwig. ‘Your grandfather knew him?’
Hauser nodded. ‘They worked together. Over a period of six months, they met more than a dozen times to discuss the item’s design. I’m sure you have heard rumours about Ludwig’s controlling manner. According to my grandfather, the rumours were quite accurate. Everything had to be perfect. Then again, for something this important, I can understand why.’
Payne didn’t want to be rude, but his curiosity was starting to get the best of him. The crate was sitting on the floor, a mere five feet away, yet he didn’t know what was inside. ‘Sir, you keep mentioning the item and talking about its importance, but none of us know what it is. If it’s okay with you, we’d love to know what’s inside the crate. It might help us understand.’
The old man smiled sheepishly. The item had been in his family for so long, he was having trouble letting go. Still, he knew it had to be done. Tears filled his eyes as he thought about the three men – his father, his grandfather and Conrad Ulster – who had protected the item before him. Selfishly, he wanted his son to be a part of the process, even if his duty was symbolic in nature. ‘Friedrich, it is time. Please remove the item and hand it to Petr. After all these years, that only seems fitting. The item is being passed from our family to yours.’
His son picked up the crate and placed it on a counter behind him. The lid had been nailed shut, so it would take a moment to pry it off. While he worked, his father filled the silence.
‘If you look past his quirks and all the rumours, Ludwig was nothing more than an idealist. It was the main reason he tried to leave Bavaria. He wanted the opportunity to create a perfect kingdom, one that he would be proud of. Some rulers would have started with a code of laws or a new system of government, but Ludwig was bored by bureaucracy. Instead, he focused his attention on the arts, for that was the one thing he was passionate about.’
The crate creaked behind him as his son worked on the lid.
‘Ludwig started with the basics, several years before his death. First, he designed his country’s flag, which featured an image he had drawn himself: an elaborate black swan. Then he contacted Richard Wagner, his favourite composer, and asked him to create a national anthem. Before long, Ludwig had hired Christian Jank and Eduard Riedel, the men responsible for Neuschwanstein, to design the most spectacular castle the world had ever seen. If that wasn’t difficult enough, they were asked to design it with no knowledge of the building site. Ultimately, by the time Ludwig acquired the land, both builders were approaching death.’
Heidi gasped at the news. ‘Ludwig found a location?’
Hauser nodded. ‘According to my grandfather, Ludwig selected a large parcel of land on the island of Capri. His goal was to start a city-state, similar to Monaco’s relationship with France. Ludwig would have independence, but Italy would be responsible for his defence.’
Jones instantly thought about the map of Capri he had found in the grotto. Currently, the document was locked in the helicopter for safekeeping, but he was willing to bet when they examined it closer they would find more than just the entrance to the secret tunnel. He was confident the map would reveal the exact location of Ludwig’s land – the place his kingdom would have been established if he had lived long enough to build it.
Ulster pondered the selection. ‘Actually, Capri makes a lot of sense for a creative soul like Ludwig. During the 1800s, it was a haven for artists, writers and musicians. Plus it was one of the few spots on earth where men and women were able to enjoy open lifestyles.’
Heidi asked, ‘Out of curiosity, did he have a chance to visit his land?’
Hauser shook his head. ‘It was never his land.’
The statement confused Heidi. ‘I don’t understand.’
Hauser explained. ‘Travel was far too difficult in those days to make a quick trip overseas, and Ludwig was being watched too closely to risk a long journey. Instead, he was forced to send a representative to Capri to make the arrangements for him. Unfortunately, the land was never officially purchased because of Ludwig’s paranoia.’
‘What do you mean?’ Ulster wondered.
‘Ludwig had never been the trusting sort, so it should come as no surprise that he didn’t give his delegate the funds to purchase the land. He gave his delegate the authority to negotiate a final price and reach an agreement on terms, but Ludwig refused to give him the money to complete the transaction. According to my grandfather, Ludwig planned to deliver the gold himself when he left Bavaria for the final time.’
Payne’s ears perked up. ‘Did you say gold?’
Hauser nodded. ‘Legend has it that he was going to finance his new kingdom with a collection of gold bars stamped with the black swan emblem. Of course, it’s only a legend. As far as I know, the gold has never been found.’
Somehow Payne, Jones and Ulster managed to keep a straight face, despite their recent discovery in the secret bunker. Meanwhile, Heidi, who knew nothing about the crate of gold, asked a follow-up question. ‘Where did the gold come from?’
Hauser started to address the topic but stopped when a loud crack emerged from his son’s workstation. Everyone glanced in that direction, worried that something important had broken.
Friedrich quickly assured the group that everything was okay. It was merely the sound of the lid being removed from the crate. ‘It’s ready, Papa.’
Hauser reached out his arms. ‘Come, my son. Help me to the case. We shall do this together.’
Even with his son’s assistance, it took a minute for the old man to get off his stool and walk to the counter behind him. By the time he got there, Payne, Jones, Ulster and Heidi had already gathered around the wooden crate. They were more than anxious to see its contents.
While Hauser caught his breath, Friedrich removed the lid from the wooden crate. After a nod of approval from his father, he reached inside. A moment later, he pulled out an elaborate gold case and handed it to Ulster, whose eyes widened with surprise. In all his days, he had never seen anything like it. Inlaid with rubies, emeralds, sapphires and pearls, the case measured slightly less than two feet in width, length and height. In the middle of all six sides, the black swan emblem had been discreetly carved into the gold.
Ulster spoke in a reverent tone. ‘It’s magnificent. It truly is.’
The elder Hauser, who hadn’t seen the case in years, reached out his hand and traced the symbol with one of his crooked fingers. ‘My great uncle built this himself. He worked non-stop for many months using jewels and gold donated to Ludwig’s cause. He had requested the materials via a series of letters.’
‘The black swan letters?’ Heidi asked.
His mind drifting elsewhere, Hauser nodded as he ran his hands down the left and right sides of the case. With his index fingers, he pointed to matching sapphires near the bottom of the cube. ‘To open the case, you must push these jewels at the exact same time. Ludwig loved his secret contraptions, and he chose
sapphires to match the colour of the water in the Blue Grotto.’
The old man pushed the jewels.
Click.
All of a sudden, a horizontal seam appeared an inch above the bottom of the box. To open it, the top would have to be lifted straight off the base.
Hauser continued his explanation. ‘Ludwig did not want a hinge in the back. He wanted his case to be in two separate pieces: the base and the lid. That way he could display the item in the base without interference from the lid.’
Ulster looked at him. ‘You mean the cube isn’t the item?’
Hauser shook his head. ‘This merely holds the treasure within.’
Payne and Jones exchanged glances. They found it hard to believe that something more valuable was waiting inside. A few seconds later, their doubts were proven wrong.
Hauser wiped his eyes on his sleeve. ‘As you probably know, Ludwig was a vain man who always wore the finest clothes and robes. Even as a child, he valued beauty above all else. With that in mind, he wanted to look his absolute best when he sat on his throne for the very first time. He wanted to look like the king he had always pictured in his dreams.’
Hauser took a deep breath and lifted the lid off the gold case. For the first time in decades, he stared at his grandfather’s handiwork. It was more beautiful than he had remembered – more beautiful than anything he had ever seen. The group gasped at the sight.
‘To be that king, he needed the finest crown ever made.’
Epilogue
Friday, 24 September
Oktoberfest
Munich, Germany
The Hofbrauhaus, the most famous beer hall in Munich’s old town, has its own tent at Oktoberfest. Known as the Hofbrau-Festzelt, it is the largest of the thirty-four tents on the festival grounds, with a total capacity of nearly 10,000 people. During the sixteen-day festival, more than a half-million litres of Hofbrau beer would be served inside, not to mention a million pounds of meat. With many guests dressed in traditional costumes and a Bavarian Oompah band playing on the large stage, it was easy to get caught up in the fun.
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