individual.
She stared at them for some moments.
“I need some air,” she remarked suddenly.
“Of course.”
They went back outside and walked round the building until they came to a spot close to the water, with two benches facing each other. They stopped, and looked out across the lake, at a long stretch of beach. The remained silent for long moments, enjoying the sudden warmth of the sun.
“Gives a special meaning to let’s do lunch, “ she said, hugging herself. “Christ. They had a buffet lunch while they did this. Such a beautiful place. I mean, who wouldn’t have wanted to live here? All those ghosts. It’s obscene.”
Müller said nothing, merely looking at her.
After a while, he said, “Are you alright?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of this beautiful, horrible place. Sorry I asked you to bring me.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
Pappenheim was already in the Rogues Gallery, and opened up to Hedi Meyer’s knock.
She went straight to the computer, and powered it up. “What are we looking for, sir?”
“The beacon our mysterious informant left as a calling card, months ago,” Pappenheim told her. “I want to see if he has sent us any recent updates.”
“Soon find out,” she said.
The computer settled down and an icon pulsed on the taskbar.
“There!” she went on in some surprise. “Something’s waiting.” Her fingers fled across the keys. “How did you know?”
“I’m clairvoyant.”
“Hmm,” she said, scepticism itself. A window of scrambled letters and figures came onscreen. “We’ve got mail. I’ll have that readable in a few moments.”
Again, her fingers did their magic. Section by section, the encrypted message began to reveal itself.
“Done,” she said.
It was in English, and not very long.
“’ Bloomfield will be set-up for Adams’ death’ ,” Pappenheim read aloud. “What does that say to you, Miss Meyer?”
“It’s a prediction.”
“Quite so. Sometimes, predictions come true rather quicker than expected.”
She looked up at him. “It’s happened? Is that why you asked me to check?”
“It’s happened and yes, that’s why I asked. I had to be sure. Our friend either knew well before the event, or he found out just before it happened. Not much warning, but it’s a help. Thank you, Hedi. No need to tell you to keep this strictly to yourself. No exceptions.”
“No need, sir.”
Five
Like the Conference villa Erwin Vogel’s own, much smaller villa, had a perfect location near the water.
On two storeys, with the high attic converted into a huge study with large, arched French windows that opened out onto a wide balcony, the villa was neatly spacious. French windows on the first floor also opened out onto a second balcony, from the master bedroom.
There was a boathouse, within which a fast speedboat was moored. A small jetty close to the boathouse, protruded into the lake, from the gently sloping garden.
“Nice piece of real estate,” Carey Bloomfield observed as they walked across slightly unkempt grounds from the short driveway. “He’s not done badly for himself. But he needs a gardener.”
“Perhaps he’s his own gardener.”
“I guess. Müller?”
“Mhmm.”
“I think you should know Toby asked me to keep an eye on you.”
Müller stopped, forcing her to come to a halt. He looked at her steadily. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I…I thought you should know.”
“I appreciate it. Won’t that get you into trouble?”
“After seeing that photo of him? What trouble could I get into? He’s dirty.”
They walked on. The jetty came into view.
“Look,” she said. “Someone by the water.”
“I see him.”
Vogel, in rough weather clothing, was on the jetty, peering into the water at something. He looked round, and straightened when he saw his visitors. He was a small man, with a weather-beaten face. The hood of his jacket was thrown back, to reveal wispy grey hair. He looked more like
She stared at them for some moments.
“I need some air,” she remarked suddenly.
“Of course.”
They went back outside and walked round the building until they came to a spot close to the water, with two benches facing each other. They stopped, and looked out across the lake, at a long stretch of beach. The remained silent for long moments, enjoying the sudden warmth of the sun.
“Gives a special meaning to let’s do lunch, “ she said, hugging herself. “Christ. They had a buffet lunch while they did this. Such a beautiful place. I mean, who wouldn’t have wanted to live here? All those ghosts. It’s obscene.”
Müller said nothing, merely looking at her.
After a while, he said, “Are you alright?”
She nodded. “I’m fine. Let’s get out of this beautiful, horrible place. Sorry I asked you to bring me.”
“Nothing to be sorry about.”
Pappenheim was already in the Rogues Gallery, and opened up to Hedi Meyer’s knock.
She went straight to the computer, and powered it up. “What are we looking for, sir?”
“The beacon our mysterious informant left as a calling card, months ago,” Pappenheim told her. “I want to see if he has sent us any recent updates.”
“Soon find out,” she said.
The computer settled down and an icon pulsed on the taskbar.
“There!” she went on in some surprise. “Something’s waiting.” Her fingers fled across the keys. “How did you know?”
“I’m clairvoyant.”
“Hmm,” she said, scepticism itself. A window of scrambled letters and figures came onscreen. “We’ve got mail. I’ll have that readable in a few moments.”
Again, her fingers did their magic. Section by section, the encrypted message began to reveal itself.
“Done,” she said.
It was in English, and not very long.
“’ Bloomfield will be set-up for Adams’ death’ ,” Pappenheim read aloud. “What does that say to you, Miss Meyer?”
“It’s a prediction.”
“Quite so. Sometimes, predictions come true rather quicker than expected.”
She looked up at him. “It’s happened? Is that why you asked me to check?”
“It’s happened and yes, that’s why I asked. I had to be sure. Our friend either knew well before the event, or he found out just before it happened. Not much warning, but it’s a help. Thank you, Hedi. No need to tell you to keep this strictly to yourself. No exceptions.”
“No need, sir.”
Five
Like the Conference villa Erwin Vogel’s own, much smaller villa, had a perfect location near the water.
On two storeys, with the high attic converted into a huge study with large, arched French windows that opened out onto a wide balcony, the villa was neatly spacious. French windows on the first floor also opened out onto a second balcony, from the master bedroom.
There was a boathouse, within which a fast speedboat was moored. A small jetty close to the boathouse, protruded into the lake, from the gently sloping garden.
“Nice piece of real estate,” Carey Bloomfield observed as they walked across slightly unkempt grounds from the short driveway. “He’s not done badly for himself. But he needs a gardener.”
“Perhaps he’s his own gardener.”
“I guess. Müller?”
“Mhmm.”
“I think you should know Toby asked me to keep an eye on you.”
Müller stopped, forcing her to come to a halt. He looked at her steadily. “Thank you for telling me.”
“I…I thought you should know.”
“I appreciate it. Won’t that get you into trouble?”
“After seeing that photo of him? What trouble could I get into? He’s dirty.”
They walked on. The jetty came into view.
“Look,” she said. “Someone by the water.”
“I see him.”
Vogel, in rough weather clothing, was on the jetty, peering into the water at something. He looked round, and straightened when he saw his visitors. He was a small man, with a weather-beaten face. The hood of his jacket was thrown back, to reveal wispy grey hair. He looked more like
Similar Books
