The Secret Crown (2010) (34 page)

But Petr Ulster ignored the scenery as he trudged down the steps from the document vaults on the upper floors towards his private office. It was a journey he typically made several times a day, moving from room to room, helping researchers from around the world with their pursuit of historical data. Although he didn’t consider himself an expert in any particular field, Ulster had a working knowledge of every significant historical subject from A to Z.

It was a skill set that served him well as curator of the facility.

Expecting to find his freshly showered guests in his office, Ulster was drawn towards the kitchen by the sound of laughter and the smell of newly baked bread. Inside the spacious room, he saw Payne, Jones and Heidi huddled around a plate of meats and cheeses. Standing next to them was Ulster’s private chef, who was slicing a warm loaf while arguing with Jones.

‘That isn’t possible!’ the chef blurted. ‘I don’t believe you for a second.’

Ulster looked at them, confused. ‘What isn’t possible?’

Jones ignored the question. ‘I’m telling you, we jumped out of the helicopter while holding on to salami. We slid over a hundred feet, right into some trees.’

Payne nodded. ‘If you don’t believe us, ask Baptiste. He was flying.’

The chef glanced at Ulster. ‘Sir, is that what happened?’

Ulster shrugged. ‘I don’t know. I wasn’t there. But it wouldn’t surprise me. When the chopper landed to pick us up, Baptiste had to reel in a very long rope that smelled like fried salami. I thought I was imagining things, but perhaps not.’

Jones laughed while patting Ulster on his belly. ‘Your picnic basket saved some lives. Your stomach should be proud of its sacrifice.’

Ulster grabbed a slice of bread. ‘In that case, I’ll reward it.’

Payne pointed at the food. ‘I hope you don’t mind. We were waiting for you in your office, but we smelled the bread and couldn’t resist. It’s tough to think when you’re hungry.’

Ulster smiled. ‘Why do you think my office is so close to the kitchen?’

Once they had eaten, they went back to Ulster’s office where a research assistant had dropped off several books about Ludwig’s life. All but one were written in German. The lone exception was a coffee-table book with English captions under photographs of Ludwig’s castles, including some taken during their construction.

Payne studied one of the pictures. ‘I wasn’t expecting to see that.’

‘See what?’ Ulster asked from his desk.

‘Pictures of the building site.’

‘Why not?’ Heidi asked as she peered over his shoulder. She instantly recognized the slim towers of Neuschwanstein underneath the scaffolding.

‘When I think of castles, I think of ancient buildings that were built long before the age of photography. Then again, what do I know? We don’t have many castles in America. We’re too young a country to have ancient ruins.’

‘Have you seen photographs of Abraham Lincoln?’ she asked.

Payne nodded. ‘Several.’

She walked around the couch and sat next to him. ‘They started building Neuschwanstein a few years
after
Lincoln’s death - if that helps you understand the time period.’

‘Actually, it does.’

Heidi tapped the photograph. ‘Ludwig built Neuschwanstein on the site of two medieval castles that had fallen into disrepair. They used explosives to blow up the old remains before they hauled everything away. The very next year they laid the foundation stone of the new castle. The date was the fifth of September 1869.’

Jones glanced at the book from the far end of the couch and noticed the date at the bottom of the page. Wondering if she had seen it or was quoting information from memory, he decided to test her expertise. ‘Who designed the castle?’

She looked at him. ‘An artist named Christian Jank. Believe it or not, he wasn’t a trained architect. He was actually a stage designer for Richard Wagner’s opera
Lohengrin
. Ludwig was so moved by Jank’s artwork that he commissioned him to create several concepts of a dream castle. Ludwig selected a design he liked, and the two of them worked on it together.’

‘Without an architect? That doesn’t sound safe,’ Jones said.

‘Ludwig eventually hired Eduard Riedel, a German architect who had restored Berg Castle for Maximilian the Second, to make sure the plans were safe. However, Riedel was just the first of many. Over the next few years, a number of architects worked on the plans including Georg von Dollmann and Julius Hofmann.’

‘Why so many architects?’

‘Two reasons,’ she said. ‘One, because Ludwig was a control freak. He changed his mind all the time and every new draft required his personal approval. This was unbelievably frustrating for the architects, especially when Ludwig disappeared for days on one of his journeys. Sometimes construction stopped while they were waiting for his authorization.’

‘What was the other reason?’ Payne asked.

‘The construction took nearly twenty years. That’s a long time to work with a crazy person.’

Jones nodded in agreement. ‘I worked with Jon for less than a decade, and it felt like
for ever
. Twenty years would have killed me.’

Payne smiled but said nothing.

‘Sadly,’ she added, ‘that’s one of the reasons it took so long to build the castle. Thirty people died during its construction - mostly because Ludwig was so demanding about self-imposed deadlines. Occasionally, when he made urgent changes to the designs, he had as many as three hundred workers at the site working in shifts around the clock. They used to set up oil lamps on the scaffolding so they wouldn’t have to stop at night.’

‘They must have hated him,’ Jones said.

She shook her head. ‘Despite the challenging conditions, the locals loved Ludwig because he was the biggest employer in the region by a wide margin. Without Neuschwanstein, many of the craftsmen would have been out of work. That carried a lot of weight with them.’

Payne glanced at her. ‘If I remember correctly, you said Neuschwanstein means new swan stone in English.’

She stared at him, trying to read the emotions in his eyes. But it was difficult. He was a much better poker player than Ulster. ‘That’s correct.’

‘What else can you tell us about the name?’

‘That depends. What are you keeping from me?’

‘What do you mean?’

She sighed, frustrated. ‘I mean, it’s a simple translation of three German words -
neu
,
schwan
and
stein
. You didn’t need me to tell you that. Petr could have told you the same thing. He speaks German, too.’

‘What’s your point?’ Payne demanded.

‘My point is you asked me about the translation on Schachen. When I explained it to you, your eyes lit up when I mentioned the word
swan
. Then you huddled with
DJ
to discuss it when I took Petr inside the house.’

‘And?’

‘And I want to know why. Otherwise, I won’t be much help to your search. Not because I’ll
refuse
to help you, I simply won’t be
able
to help.’

Payne glanced around the room. First he looked at Jones, who nodded his approval. Then he looked at Ulster, who enthusiastically did the same. Finally he looked at Heidi, who was staring at him with her light blue eyes. He didn’t know her very well, but he was starting to understand how she had convinced Ulster to talk about Ludwig’s treasure. She was smart, perceptive and very observant. He was glad she was on their side.

Payne asked, ‘Are you familiar with Petr’s grandfather?’

She nodded. ‘I unknowingly quoted him earlier today.’

‘Recently, we discovered some of Conrad’s belongings. In one of his notebooks, he had written some clues that are supposed to lead us to Ludwig’s treasure.’

‘What kind of clues?’ she asked.

‘The first one is a riddle that uses the word
swan
. That’s why we keep asking you about Neuschwanstein. We thought maybe he hid the treasure there.’

‘I very much doubt it,’ she said.

‘Why’s that?’ Jones asked.

‘Because Ludwig was murdered before the building was finished.’

Ulster questioned her from across the room. ‘Are you sure, my dear? Wasn’t Ludwig staying there on the night of his arrest?’

She nodded. ‘Ludwig lived in the palace for 172 days, but the castle was far from done. Only fourteen rooms were finished before his death. The rest of the building was filled with workers, struggling to complete the project. I doubt he would have hidden a treasure with so many witnesses around.’

Payne agreed with her. ‘You’re probably right.’

Jones cursed. ‘I guess that means we should cross it off our list.’

She stared at them. ‘Before you do, don’t you think you should tell me the riddle? I know you guys don’t fully trust me, but didn’t you say several clues needed to be solved in order to locate the treasure? What’s the harm in telling me the first one? It’s not like I’m going anywhere. I’m stuck on a mountain in the middle of Switzerland.’

Jones glanced at Payne. ‘She has a point.’

Ulster nodded in agreement. ‘I concur.’

Payne pointed at Ulster. ‘Conrad was your grandfather. You should tell her, not me.’

Ulster grinned with satisfaction. He was touched by the gesture. ‘On the surface, the riddle seems fairly straightforward, but we haven’t figured it out yet. We’d love a fresh set of ears.’

‘What’s the riddle?’ she asked.

‘Where would a swan go on his journey home?’

Heidi closed her eyes and leaned back on the couch. Wearing a colourful ski sweater she had found in Ulster’s guest closet and her own pair of jeans, she whispered the riddle to herself, trying to decipher its meaning. After several seconds of this, her eyes popped open - only to realize that Payne, Jones and Ulster were staring at her, patiently waiting for her response.

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I’ve got nothing.’

Jones mumbled to Payne. ‘Expert, my ass.’

Heidi didn’t hear his comment but quickly amended her statement. ‘Actually, let me take that back. I’ve got nothing
definitive
. Plenty of possibilities, but nothing definitive.’

‘How many possibilities?’ Ulster asked.

‘At least ten, maybe fifteen.’

‘Fifteen? We came up with less than five.’

She stared at Ulster, who was sitting behind his desk. ‘As you know, Ludwig was fascinated with swans. They were an important part of his life from his childhood to his death. That’s a whole lot of ground to cover. I only wish I had more information so I could narrow it down.’

Payne, Jones and Ulster exchanged a series of glances, much as they had done when they were deciding if Heidi was worthy of the riddle. This immediately got her thinking about their visit to the King’s House and the questions they had asked up there.

‘Just a second,’ she blurted. ‘Up on Mount Schachen, you were asking me about local lakes. Is that because of the riddle, or does that have to do with another clue?’

Jones answered. ‘That had to do with the riddle. We thought maybe there was a special lake there where he watched swans.’

She pointed at them, one at a time, when she spoke. ‘Then what was all that glancing back and forth you just did? I’ve seen those looks before. You’re hiding something.’

Payne looked at her. ‘Will you stop doing that?’

‘Doing what?’

‘Reading our minds. It’s really annoying.’

She smiled. ‘Sorry. In case you haven’t figured it out, I’m stubborn, ill tempered and paranoid. I hit the genetic trifecta.’

Jones leaned forward. ‘Don’t apologize. Your genes look great to me.’

She laughed and blushed slightly.

Jones whispered to Payne. ‘See what I did there? I complimented her
genes
, but she’s also wearing
jeans
. That’s what they call repartee.’

‘If that’s the French word for retarded, I agree with you.’

Heidi overheard the comment and snickered quietly. She tried to cover up her laughter by adjusting the band round her hair. A few seconds later, her blonde ponytail was back in place and the grin was off her face.

‘Anyway, where were we?’ Payne asked.

‘I was reading your mind,’ she said.

Payne smiled and nodded. ‘In addition to the riddle, Petr’s grandfather also provided a hint about the treasure’s location. In his journal, he described the hint as a starting point. It might give you the context you’re looking for in order to solve the riddle.’

She looked at Ulster. ‘What’s the hint?’

‘According to my grandfather, Ludwig hid a secret document inside his
gartenhaus
that would help us find the treasure.’

‘His
gartenhaus
?’ She pondered the significance of the word. ‘Okay, now it makes sense.’

‘The riddle makes sense?’ Payne asked.