‘You know what, let me drive you home right now. Go home and rest for a couple of hours. Have a good breakfast and then join me again at the Schloss. We’ll be better equipped to tackle the trail with a bit of rest and a full stomach.’
Isabel nodded. ‘I haven’t been home all of yesterday. Haven’t paid attention to my guests. But I prefer taking my car. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine and I’ll meet you here by 8.30.’
‘Parfait!’
Chapter 3
The early morning light was pale over the gardens and the hotels, with stains of pink and orange turning yellow. The night rain had left the wind cold and moist and the lake looked like olive velvet. Re stood in the balcony of the Marble Hall, gazing out at the lake, beyond the four tall trees.
The usually quiet Marble Hall was brimming with people of all ages and nationalities. Earlier in the morning, long cars and police vans had flitted in and out of the palace premises. Loads of luggage were carried to the rooms at the Schloss and the Meierhof. Ministers, ex-ministers, their secretaries and aides buzzed from building to building. Dan had welcomed the guests, smiling and at his best in his navyblue suit and tie. From his crisp good looks, no one would have known he had been up all night, Re thought.
Now, as Re stepped off the balcony and into the Marble Hall, he felt he’d been drawn into an atmosphere of cosmopolitan intellect and power.
‘Mr Wagner, what a pleasure to see you, sir,’ Dan’s voice floated towards him.
A tall man in a white suit and thick white hair turned around to greet the hotelier.
‘The pleasure is mine, Dan. I couldn’t wait to return to the Schloss Leopoldskron,’ Mr Wagner responded in a deep voice which could’ve been a straight lift from Gone with the Wind.
Tim Wagner…Re remembered reading about him. Ex-secretary of US foreign affairs. With a long history of remarkable achievements over the years, from holding several important portfolios to acting as special NATO negotiator during the Kosovo war.
Another young man in a maroon robe and matching headscarf, strode forward and shook hands with Wagner. Dan spotted Re and made a bee-line for him.
‘It’s an amazing gathering, isn’t it? And there are more to come,’ he remarked in a low voice. ‘That’s Sheikh Mohammad, served as the director of policy planning in the UAE ministry of foreign affairs. He’s come with an entourage of eight people. They all insist that they should be around him for security. We’ve told them not to worry, security has been taken care of, but they need to be doubly sure.’
‘And who is that lady?’ Re indicated a woman in a black skirt and coat, her hair excellently coiffed in a stylish cut.
‘Tina Armstrong, worked as a foreign correspondent with the BBC for several years, and has reported from more than twenty-five countries including in the Middle East. And that gentleman, sitting alone by the table, is Howard Kultz, Norwegian deputy minister of foreign affairs. He was an ambassador to Kenya and Norway’s representative to the UN organizations based in Nairobi, Kenya. And now, heading towards him with a glass in hand, is Peter Zinger, the ambassador for, and permanent representative of Switzerland to the Organization for Security and Co-operation in Europe, the UN, and other international organizations in Vienna. They are being joined by Sadaf Hussain. She was born in Pakistan, and has worked for the United Nations for twenty years in peacekeeping, refugee and humanitarian affairs, social development, drugs, crime and terrorism.’
‘Wow, I am impressed!’ Re whistled. ‘This is a galaxy of stars.’
‘Now you understand what I meant about this event being exclusive? No way could we cancel it. There was too much at stake. And we can’t let them get wind of our problems either. This is a sensitive crowd. One whiff and they’ll all be gone in a jiffy. These high-profile people have gathered here to talk about peace and our future. Oh, there’s Mark and Wendy. You must excuse me. Duty calls!’ Dan adjusted his tie and coat, flashed Re a smile and strode across the hall to join the directors of the Salzburg Global Seminar.
Re took in the buzz of conversation mingled with the clink of fine glass. Dan was right. The Trail had to be tracked to its end as soon as possible. Too much was at risk. His gaze cruised across the hall in search of Isabel. It was 9.15; she ought to have been here by now. He spotted Martina talking to a guest, a buffet plate in hand. Two men stood by each entrance, their demeanor unfriendly and distant. Obviously security, Re thought amused. Couldn’t they be a little less conspicuous?
‘Hollander! It’s really you!’ Wagner’s loud voice rang out in a pleasant greeting.
The Hollanders had just entered the Marble Hall. The old man looked surprised, almost shocked, to see Mr Wagner. He shook hands and said something in a low voice. His interest aroused, Re edged closer to the senior men.
‘Ex-CIA. Rich life, what do you say?’ Wagner had lowered his voice but Re’s sharp ears still picked up his words.
‘Yes, was thinking of writing a novel.’ Hollander laughed, his watchful eyes sweeping over the other guests.
‘A bestseller for sure! Good luck, my friend!’
‘Thank you. It was great meeting you, Tim,’ the whitehaired man said.
‘We’ll catch up soon. We have a great many experiences to exchange.’
‘Right.’
It was obvious to Re that Hollander was trying his best to escape Tim Wagner’s friendly enthusiasm. Ex-CIA?
‘Mr Parkar?’ A voice spoke softly behind him and Re turned.
‘Perth and I would like to talk to you. Do you have a minute to spare?’ It was Joanna.
‘Mais oui!’ Re nodded and followed her to a table in a corner.
Dressed in casual jeans and T-shirts, they looked incongruous in the stately setting and glamorous gathering of the Marble Hall. Like outsiders.
‘We would like to thank you. We really appreciated your advice a while ago,’ Perth acknowledged.
Re noticed how he spoke in first person plural. We. If he didn’t suspect otherwise, he would’ve thought that they were given this weekend gift at the Schloss to iron out their differences and get together as a couple again. But these two claimed that they had met here for the first time. Going by their spontaneous camaraderie, they really seemed to have found each other. Re nearly sighed. L’amour. It finds you when you seek it the least.
‘Don’t mention it. It was my duty,’ he assured the two. ‘Sometimes, things are not as they seem, and lack of knowledge, or fear, can make matters appear worse than they actually are. Perhaps the gift of your visit here is purely well-meant. Perhaps not. But until we know the exact truth, it is best to wait and watch. When do you leave?’
‘Tomorrow morning. I have been asked to play my violin at the party this evening—remember?’ Joanna said.
‘Oh yes, I look forward to it.’
Joanna blushed. ‘Yes, although I’m not really prepared.’
‘I’ll probably be there to cheer you,’ Re smiled encouragingly.
***
As the journalist crossed the hall, he noticed that groups were beginning to form around the many wooden tables. The conversational buzz round the Marble Hall was loud, as deep throaty voices mingled with the sounds of silverware and muted laughter. He glanced at his watch. It was almost ten. Where was Isabel?
He exited the Schloss, passing the deer on the lawn. His feet crunched on the gravel and he automatically strayed to his favourite spot, the bench by the lake. It afforded a picturesque view, soothing to the eye. But not to his mind right now. Re felt agitated. Time was running out…
Extracting the clue from his pocket, he stared at it.
‘Bravo! Doing really well. Just three more to go…
Birds, ducks, monkeys and trees,
Spring on me the Bee’s Knees,
Past deer, cherubs and pointing men
stepping stones and standing women
Across the silky, wavy length
where the real key lies in the borrowed strength.’
For moments, the sentences seeme
d just a jumble or words, meaningless, almost childish. It was meant to be a game, but the game was proving more dangerous than Reinhardt could’ve ever imagined. Thoughts crowded Re’s head—the heart stolen, the clues to the Trail, the Pillars of Salzburg, the anonymous favour to Joanna and Perth and finally the Gift. Where was it all leading? The near-death of innocent Salzburgers didn’t make sense. Nor did the destruction of valuable property and rare papers in the flood in the cemetery. What was at stake here? Where was all this leading? Someone was indeed so keen on disturbing the Energy of the town that she or he couldn’t care less what was destroyed in its grip.
But why? Why? The question seemed to form a whirling current in his brain. On an impulse, Re extracted his flute, which he always carried in one of the voluminous pockets of his multi-purpose jacket. Moments later, sweet notes filled the lakeside. He played the raag pahadi and the notes seemed to lift in the air and float toward the Untersberg mountain. Re was totally lost to the world as the music engulfed him and the melody filled him with sweet bitterness. When he paused, tears glistened in the corner of his eyes.
A loud clapping shook him out of his trance. Stefan was walking towards him, applauding but unsmiling.
‘Nice.You are an accomplished player,’ he complimented. He looked handsome striding up in his smart black leather jacket over his navy blue unifrom.
‘I learnt music from my father in the initial years,’ Re supplied. ‘Oh, by the way, I have something for you.’
Re handed him the toy flute and the apron that Joanna and Perth had given him. He briefly explained what they had told him.
‘Thanks. This gets stranger and stranger. Perhaps it’s some kind of apologetic compensation, for the way Reinhardt behaved with them?’
‘Perhaps,’ Re responded noncommittally.
Stefan’s words had rung a bell. Compensation? Perhaps. But what if it was revenge?
‘Where’s your partner? Isabel?’ the officer asked casually.
‘Not yet returned from the B&B. She ought to have been here an hour go.’
Stefan’s eyes narrowed and his entire stance changed. ‘What did she tell you?’
‘That she would be here at eight-thirty.’
Stefan glanced at his wristwatch. ‘It’s almost ten now. She’s never late. Something’s the matter!’
‘She’ll be here, don’t worry.’
‘No, I’m afraid that the worst could’ve happened. She may have absconded,’ he stated, his tone betraying agitation.
Re was startled. ‘Absconded!’
‘Yes. She knows that Justin’s body has been found and that she would be the prime suspect.’
‘That is not Justin, she said so,’ Re reminded him.
‘And you believed her!’ Stefan expelled a short laugh. ‘That body is definitely Justin’s. There was positive identification on him. She was lying when she said that he was not Justin. She needed the time to escape. Which, like a fool, I handed over to her.’ Stefan slapped his fist into his palm in frustration.
Re stared long and hard at the officer.
‘I don’t know what proof you have against Isabel. I don’t even know whether she has indeed absconded like you propose. But I do know that Isabel has not killed her husband.’ His voice was quiet, low and firm.
‘Well, I am headed to her house right now. If she has absconded, she can’t have gone too far.’
‘Stefan, this is a mistake,’ Re warned.
‘Let me decide that,’ Stefan snapped.
‘Fine, but let me come with you.’
‘Whatever for? This is police procedure,’ the officer objected.
‘What is police procedure?’ a soft voice interrupted.
Re swung around swiftly. He had been so engrossed in tackling Stefan, that he had missed Isabel’s approach.
‘Isabel!’ he exclaimed, relief flooding over him. ‘You are late.’
Stefan simply stared at her, a slow blush spreading over his face.
She had changed into fresh trousers and another maroon turtleneck, her eyes ringed with red. Had she been weeping or were they signs of a sleepless night?
‘I’m awfully sorry but Stefan, guess what! I think I spotted Justin a while ago. When I left the Schloss, I thought I saw him in a car and followed him right up to the old town. I called out to him but he didn’t hear me. I lost him near the cathedral. Oh Stefan, I’m quite sure it is him!’
‘If he’s hanging around town, why doesn’t he just return home?’ Stefan’s voice was cold.
Her face clouded. ‘I don’t know. But I’m positive it’s him.’
Re stared from Stefan to Isabel. He suddenly felt extremely protective of the girl.
‘Are you sure it was him?’ Stefan insisted.
Isabel glanced at the officer and doubt crept into her eyes. ‘I…I guess I am not. When I was following him, I was dead certain and so excited. But now when I think back, he didn’t respond to my call.’
‘It’s not him, Isabel. Justin is dead. You saw the body last night,’ Stefan cut in. His voice was emotionless as he studied Isabel’s face.
‘If you mean the body that you found this morning, then you are wrong. That isn’t Justin.’ Isabel’s voice had regained conviction and she met his direct gaze without flinching.
‘Well, that will be decided in the post-mortem. May I request you to be present tomorrow morning at the police headquarters at nine?’
She stared at him, her eyes wide in surprise. ‘You think—you really think I would—’ she broke off, unable to voice her shock.
‘It’s all right, Isabel,’ Re strode to her side. ‘It’s police procedure.’
Stefan looked away. ‘Yes, it’s police procedure. I have to warn you that you may be a prime suspect in your husband’s suspicious death.’
‘Assuming that the man you found was indeed my husband, have you considered the possibility that he could’ve died a natural death, in an accident?’ Isabel pointed out coolly.
‘He could’ve. But we shall leave that for the investigation to find out. In the meantime, I have to request you not to leave town until further notice.’
For long moments Isabel and Stefan stared at each other. The expressions on Isabel’s face changed from incredulous to indifferent. Despite his cool, professional stance, Stefan’s grey-blue eyes betrayed a strong, yet controlled emotion. Without another word, he turned around and strode away, his hands dug deep into his jacket pockets.
Chapter 4
Dan loosened his tie and settled on his cushioned seat.
He closed his eyes momentarily, feeling the pressure abating slowly. Most of the guests had arrived. Breakfast had gone off without a hitch and now, one by one, they were returning to their rooms to relax and then prepare for the gala dinner that night. If only the rest of their stay went off as smoothly, Dan would feel he had accomplished a feat. But the Archbishop’s heart had still not been found and the Trail not culminated. How long before the news leaked?
Almost as if on cue, the door opened and Karen walked into the office.
‘There are news reporters outside. They are adamant about speaking to you,’ she informed him.
Dan paled. News reporters! Bad timing. But when there were so many dignitaries present on the premises, the press was bound to be interested.
‘Send them in.’
‘You sure?’ she confirmed.
Dan nodded.
Minutes later, three reporters were sitting across the table—two men and a youngish girl.
‘What can I do for you?’ Dan asked with a polite smile.
‘We heard that strange things are happening at the Schloss. Is that true?’ a young man with red hair asked, without preamble.
Dan’s heart skipped a beat.
‘What strange things?’ he continued to remain polite and mildly interested.
‘Things are going missing. Thefts?’
‘This is a hotel with repute. People are bound to spread rumours.’
‘So nothing is l
ost?’ the man with the red hair continued.
‘Listen, if you have specific questions, please ask those. I have a room full of dignitaries waiting in the Marble Hall…’
‘Okay, is it true that you have found evidence that Mozart played at the Schloss?’ the girl piped in. She was petite and pretty but her eyes were cold.
‘Evidence that Mozart played here? No, not that I know of.’ Dan frowned.
‘We’ve got a lead that proof has been found and that it is hidden in the Schloss.’
‘I have no clue who is spreading these lies, but as a matter of fact, the Seminar has indeed been searching for such a proof for years. But the answer to whether Mozart actually played at the Schloss in the times of Count Laktanz, still remains a secret.’
‘Mr Dan Selzny, will you let us know the moment you find any such proof?’ the third reporter asked. His unblinking gaze from behind his spectacles made Dan nervous.
‘Of course I will! The Seminar would announce it if we ever found any evidence related to Mozart.’
‘Can you set up some interviews for us with some of the guests? We have a list of names.’ The girl shoved forward a paper.
Dan glanced at it. ‘I shall consult these people if they are willing to give interviews. If they are, we will co-ordinate with you and set up interviews at the Schloss.’
The three reporters rose and the one with the red hair shook hands with Dan.
‘Thank you!’
It was a full minute after they left, that Dan’s heartbeat returned to normal. He swept a hand over his wet forehead. That was a narrow call. Someone was spreading the rumour about Mozart, as well as about the theft at the Schloss. But who? It was obvious that whoever was doing this did not have a good intention at heart. No prizes for guessing that the sole intention was to create mischief. Someone wanted the troubles at the Schloss to go public and what better way than to provoke the press?
The Trail of Four Page 19