‘Let me guess,’ Payne said. ‘You’re talking about the black swan.’
Ulster nodded. ‘When the royal coffers began to run dry, Ludwig tried to raise funds for his projects through legal means. He asked the Bavarian finance minister to arrange a loan of seven and a half million marks from a consortium of German banks, which temporarily kept him afloat. But Ludwig realized the money wouldn’t last long, especially at the rate he was spending it. With that in mind, he went to the drawing board - literally went to the drawing board with a quill and ink - and designed the black swan. As you can see, Ludwig was a talented artist. He figured if he was going to start an organization, he might as well have some fun with it.’
Payne glanced at the symbol on the lid. Admittedly, it did have a certain flair. ‘What type of organization are you talking about?’
‘The secret kind.’
‘Meaning?’
‘Meaning he didn’t want people to know about it.’
Payne growled softly. ‘Believe it or not, I know what secret means. I meant, what was the function of the organization?’
‘Sorry,’ Ulster said, blushing. He was so excited about the discovery, he was rambling more than usual. ‘Ludwig’s goal was to acquire funds through illicit means.’
Kaiser laughed. ‘He became a thief? That’s awesome!’
Jones was tempted to tease Kaiser, then thought better of it.
Ulster shook his head. ‘Not a thief, per se. More like the head of a new syndicate. Ludwig hatched a series of crazy schemes, then recruited his most loyal followers to carry them out. Unfortunately, most of his men realized that Ludwig was bonkers, so they only pretended to follow his orders - often with comic results.’
‘Such as?’ Jones asked.
Ulster thought of a good example. ‘After being turned down for a loan by a Rothschild bank, Ludwig decided to steal the money instead. Realizing his men might be recognized in Munich, he sent a group of his servants to Frankfurt to rob a bank there. Not soldiers, mind you, but servants - cooks, butlers, stable boys and the like. Obviously these men had no intention of robbing a bank, but all of them wanted a free vacation. With that in mind, the group went to Frankfurt for a few days where they spent plenty of the king’s money. Eventually they returned home empty-handed. When asked about their lack of success, they claimed they had been this close to finishing the job but a last-minute glitch had prevented it.’
Payne, Jones, and Kaiser laughed. It sounded like the plot of a bad movie.
‘So,’ Payne guessed, ‘the government caught wind of these crazy schemes and decided to remove Ludwig before he did irreparable damage to the crown.’
‘Actually, no. The servants didn’t want to be punished - or ruin a good thing - so most of these stories didn’t surface until long after Ludwig had been murdered.’
‘Really? Then what got him in trouble?’ Payne asked.
Ulster pointed at the gold. ‘Rumours about the black swan.’
20
Unlike some historians who refused to offer an opinion about anything until every fact had been collected and studied ad nauseam, Ulster tended to develop theories on the wing. Sometimes that resulted in a rambling monologue that went on for ever, but Payne and Jones had been around him enough to understand his process. For Ulster, talking about the subject matter was the key. As he painted the scene for others, pieces of the puzzle fell into place in his own mind.
‘Nine months before his murder,’ Ulster explained, ‘Ludwig summoned the best horsemen in his kingdom to Linderhof - one of his castles - and asked them to deliver a series of letters across Europe. To escape detection, the riders were sent on their journeys in the dead of night. According to a witness who worked in the stables, each of the documents had been sealed in advance, and each had been stamped with an elaborate black swan. Other than that, not much is known about their mysterious quest. No one knows what the letters said, where they were sent, or if they were actually delivered.’
‘Why didn’t someone ask the riders?’ Payne asked.
‘Why? Because the riders never returned.’
‘None of them?’
Ulster shook his head. ‘No one knows if they were shot, captured, or ordered to stay away.’
‘That’s bizarre,’ Jones said. He was familiar with Ludwig and his castles, but he had never heard about the black swan.
‘Trust me,’ Ulster assured them, ‘it gets even stranger. The very next night, Ludwig disappeared - simply vanished without a trace for roughly thirty-six hours. No one knew if he had been kidnapped, killed or lost in the nearby woods. Obviously, it was a scary time for his advisors. Not wanting to start a panic and not wanting to give his opposition any ammunition, they decided to keep things quiet until they figured out where he was. Slowly but surely, they began to understand what had happened. In the middle of the night, Ludwig had snuck out of Linderhof - past a team of armed guards - and departed for Schachen, a small palace less than five miles from here. For some reason, he wanted to be left alone for a week.’
Ulster paused to gather his thoughts. ‘Once he was found, his advisors were relieved. With Ludwig on vacation, they could spin his departure any way they wanted. At least until rumours started to spread about the midnight horsemen and the mysterious letters. Worried that Ludwig had hatched another crazy scheme, they decided to pay him a surprise visit to see what he was plotting. When they got there, he was covered in dirt - as though he had been working in the fields all day. They asked him what he had been doing, but he refused to say.’
‘Any theories?’ Payne asked.
‘Not until you showed me the crate of gold with the black swan symbol. Now, if I had to guess, I’d say Ludwig got dirty while visiting this bunker.’
Payne furrowed his brow. ‘How is that possible? I thought you said your grandfather built this bunker in the 1930s?’
Ulster shook his head. ‘Actually, Jonathon, I said my grandfather used this bunker. I never said he built it. Considering all the Nazi activity in these parts, there’s no way he could have built something like this without detection. No, if I had to speculate, I’d say Ludwig commissioned its construction in 1886, and my grandfather found it fifty years later.’
To make his point, Ulster held up his grandfather’s journal. ‘Remember earlier when I said the black swan was an explanation? At the time, I meant it in terms of this book, but …’ He paused, still coming to grips with a theory. ‘On further reflection, the black swan explains a lot more than that. Actually, it explains just about everything.’
‘Everything?’ Payne asked.
Ulster nodded. ‘Imagine a set of directions with no starting point. No matter how many turns you make, you can never reach your destination because you don’t know where to begin. In many ways, that’s how I felt before you showed me that symbol. Similar to the Rosetta Stone, which helped linguists decipher the hieroglyphics, the black swan gave me the context I was lacking when I first entered this bunker. Suddenly, I see things in a different light.’
‘Wonderful,’ Payne said dryly. ‘Hopefully that means you’ll be able to address some of the questions you still haven’t answered.’
‘Such as?’
‘Why did Ludwig build this bunker?’
Ulster pointed at the crates. ‘To hide his treasure.’
Kaiser interrupted. ‘What treasure? I thought he was broke.’
‘So did his creditors,’ Ulster said, laughing. ‘At the time of his death, Ludwig was more than fourteen million marks in debt. Creditors were lining up at his door, demanding to be paid. In fact, the company that supplied water and fuel to his castles actually took him to court over non-payment. According to several sources, it was the biggest embarrassment of Ludwig’s life.’
‘What’s your point?’ Payne asked.
Ulster grabbed one of the gold bars for emphasis. ‘If Ludwig had this much gold lying around, why didn’t he spend it and avoid all that humiliation?’
Jones took a guess. ‘Becau
se he was nuts.’
‘Or,’ Ulster countered, ‘the rumours about the black swan were true.’
‘What rumours?’ Payne demanded. ‘You keep mentioning rumours.’
Ulster smiled, relishing the opportunity to explain. ‘According to legend, Ludwig sent the mysterious letters - known as the black swan letters - to aristocrats throughout Europe, asking for their support in a secret project he was working on. At the time of his death, Ludwig’s reputation was far better in foreign countries than in Bavaria, so there is a good chance that his letters would have carried a lot of weight. From the look of this gold and all these crates, a lot of people took the bait.’
Kaiser laughed. ‘Let me see if I got this straight. The King of Bavaria was running a Ponzi scheme on the richest people in Europe? That’s hilarious!’
Ulster shrugged. ‘Actually, no one knows if he was scamming people out of their money, or looking for investors in a legitimate project. The truth is he was killed before his plot was revealed. In theory, the Bavarian government wouldn’t have been pleased with either result - whether he was swindling the rich or hoarding money while refusing to pay his bills. Either way, Bavaria was going to be embarrassed by Ludwig’s actions. That’s why he was eliminated.’
‘Allegedly,’ Payne stressed. ‘Or was there proof?’
Ulster shook his head. ‘As I mentioned earlier, all this - his murder, his secret plan, his disappearance - is pure speculation. The only tangible evidence ever discovered regarding the black swan was a series of Ludwig’s sketches and a few snippets in his diary about a secret organization. Everything else is a mixture of rumours, hearsay and conjecture.’
‘Until today,’ Payne said.
Ulster beamed as he stared at his grandfather’s journal. ‘Yes. Until today.’
‘So,’ Kaiser said, anxious to open the other crates, ‘what’s the next step? Can we dive right in, or do you have to do some kind of archaeology shit?’
‘About that,’ Ulster said, ‘I’m afraid I might have some bad news for you. From the looks of these crates, I’m not sure you’re going to find anything of value.’
Kaiser laughed and snatched the gold bar from Ulster. ‘I don’t know about you, but gold has plenty of value to me. What does this thing weigh? Ten, twelve pounds? This crate alone will buy me an island.’
Jones looked offended. ‘Just a second! I pried off the damn lid. What’s my cut?’
‘Don’t worry, man. You can use my beach.’
Ulster cleared his throat, suddenly nervous. He wasn’t used to dealing with men like Kaiser and wasn’t sure how he would react to bad news. ‘Actually, that’s not what I meant. If my theory is correct, there’s a very good chance that most of these crates are worthless.’
‘Worthless?’ Kaiser blurted. ‘Why would they be worthless?’
Ulster ignored the question. Instead, he searched through the stacks - kicking a few crates, shaking another - until he found three that met his needs. ‘If you don’t mind, can you open these for me? They will illustrate my point.’
‘Sure,’ Kaiser said as he grabbed the crowbar.
‘Actually,’ Ulster told him, ‘tools won’t be necessary. The crates aren’t sealed.’
‘Why not?’ he asked.
‘Remove the lid and find out.’
Intrigued, Payne and Jones moved closer as Kaiser pulled off the first lid. Much to their surprise, the crate was completely empty.
Ulster tapped on another. ‘Now this one.’
Kaiser did what he was told, but it was empty as well.
‘And this one.’
Same thing. The crate was empty.
Ulster motioned towards the stacks. ‘Unfortunately, I have a feeling most of them will be empty. Otherwise, my grandfather wouldn’t have stacked them like this.’
Payne grimaced. ‘Your grandfather? How do you know they were his crates?’
‘Simple. Look at the wood.’
‘What’s wrong with the wood?’ Kaiser demanded.
‘Nothing. And that’s the problem.’ Ulster ran his hand over one of the empty crates. ‘No nicks, no cracks, no scuffs of any kind. Much different to Ludwig’s crate, which was weathered and worn, but quite similar to the crate with my family’s crest. I noticed that earlier, but it didn’t make sense until now. If I had to guess, most of these crates were assembled here in anticipation of my grandfather’s next discovery.’
Jones glanced at the crates. ‘Which was?’
Ulster shrugged. ‘I honestly don’t know what he was searching for. Perhaps his journal will give us a clue, perhaps not. However, based on the size of this bunker and the dozens of crates that fill this chamber, he was preparing for something huge.’
21
Over the next hour, Payne, Jones and Kaiser opened every crate in the bunker while Ulster studied his grandfather’s notes on the other side of the room. To everyone’s disappointment, Ulster’s theory about the crates was proven correct: most of them were empty. The few that had something to offer were filled with family heirlooms - personal items that could be returned to the rightful owners - but nothing came close to the van Gogh crate or Ludwig’s gold.
‘I’m sorry,’ Kaiser said after they opened the final one.
‘For what?’ Payne asked.
‘For wasting your time.’
Payne wiped the sweat off his brow. ‘What are you talking about? You didn’t waste our time. This was kind of fun - in a chain gang kind of way.’
Jones took a gulp of water. ‘Speak for yourself. My back is killing me, and I’ve got a blister on my thumb the size of a dumpling. I hope our host has insurance.’
Kaiser smiled. ‘Just grab some gold, and we’ll call it even.’
Jones considered the offer. ‘It’s a pleasure doing business with you.’
‘In all seriousness,’ Payne said to Kaiser, ‘we appreciated the heads up. Obviously things didn’t work out the way we had hoped - ‘
‘That’s an understatement,’ Jones mumbled.
‘ - but we managed to protect Petr’s reputation. And that’s good enough for us.’
Jones cleared his throat loudly, the sound echoing through the room.
Payne stared at him. ‘What?’
‘Aren’t you forgetting something?’
‘I don’t think so … Am I?’
Jones sighed in disappointment. He had always been better with details than Payne. ‘Please forgive my former captain. The mind starts to go at his age.’
‘What are you talking about? You’re older than I am!’ Payne grumbled.
Jones ignored the comment. ‘What Jon meant to say was this: although we were thrilled to protect the Ulster family name, we’ll still gladly accept the free trip to Oktoberfest.’
Payne paused in thought. ‘Actually, he’s right. That is what I meant to say.’
Kaiser laughed at their antics. ‘Don’t worry, fellas. I’ll keep my word. You’ll still get two days at Oktoberfest. If all goes well, you’ll be in the beer gardens before dinner.’
‘Unless …’ Ulster called from the far side of the room.
All three of them turned towards him. He was sitting on an empty crate with his back against the bunker wall. In his hands, he held his grandfather’s journal.
‘Unless what?’ Payne asked.
‘Unless you want to retrieve the treasure that was destined for these crates.’
Jones stepped forward. ‘What are you talking about?’
Ulster rocked back and forth a few times in order to generate enough momentum to stand up. ‘While you gentlemen have been searching through the crates, I’ve been conducting a search of my own - one that has been a tad more fruitful than yours. According to my grandfather’s notes, his biggest problem wasn’t finding Ludwig’s treasure, it was retrieving it.’
Silence filled the room as they considered Ulster’s words.
A few seconds passed before Kaiser spoke. ‘What do you mean?’
Ulster grinned. ‘I had a f
eeling that would get your attention.’
‘Well, you have it. Now explain.’
‘As I mentioned earlier, Bavaria was swarming with Nazis during the 1930s. This area in particular was under high alert because of the 1936 Winter Olympics, which were held in the valley below. As a matter of fact, this mountain was actually used for some of the skiing events. Because of all the extra security, my grandfather was forced to abandon his pursuit of Ludwig’s treasure shortly after finding this bunker. From the looks of things, he had a pretty good idea where the treasure was hidden, but he wasn’t able to retrieve it thanks to World War Two.’
‘Fucking Hitler! Always screwing things up,’ Jones joked.
‘What are you saying? You know where the treasure is?’ Kaiser demanded.
Ulster lowered his voice. ‘According to my grandfather, Ludwig hid a secret document in his gartenhaus that would reveal the location of the treasure.’
Jones winced. ‘One time, when Jon and I were crossing the Afghan border, I had to hide a document in my gartenhaus, and—’
Kaiser cut him off. ‘Gartenhaus means “garden house” in German, not what you were about to describe.’
‘Thank goodness,’ Jones cracked, ‘because I got a paper cut when I pulled it out.’
Payne rolled his eyes. Sometimes his best friend didn’t know when to stop joking around. ‘Petr, are you familiar with any place that would fit your grandfather’s description?’
Ulster replied. ‘Off the top of my head, I can think of three possible locations. One would be good news. One would be tolerable news. The third would be truly dreadful.’
‘Let’s start with the good,’ Kaiser suggested. ‘That is, if you guys are interested.’
Payne answered before Jones had a chance to make another joke. ‘We’ve come this far. What’s another few hours? Besides, Oktoberfest goes on for two more weeks.’
The Secret Crown (2010) Page 10