J. Jones - The Third Place

He did not go back up to the Stephanie-Brucke, but instead walked north along the docks to Maria Theresien-Brucke, where he went up a flight of stairs again to street level.

It would be a long walk back to his pension, but he had much to think about.

He was sure of the name. The waiter had said Werthen. He knew the lawyer and his friend Gross from his earlier mission in Vienna. It was they who caused his fall from grace with the Russians. They who made him a man without a home.

How much did they know? What had the waiter told them? Did they know of his blackmailing Herr Karl? Of the request to Oberstabelmeister Johann Czerny to put Postling on the list?

It had been an intricate, beautiful plan he had constructed after the heavy-handed and botched work of his predecessors. Discovering the weak link in the Oberstabelmeister’s life, examining and then exploiting that weakness: his friendship with Herr Karl. And then, the night of Herr Karl’s death, when all seemed lost, his sudden inspiration, and he was in control again.

And now, to have it suddenly put in jeopardy once more. It was too much.

He would need to double-check everything, beginning with the old man, Hermann Postling. Had he been traced to the men’s hostel? That would be easy enough to check on.

And then there was the meddling Advokat Werthen and the pompous Doktor Gross to deal with. He smiled at the thought. Actually, this might be a stroke of luck, if he looked at it in the right way. To finally get pay back on those two: that would be a fine thing.

And one further thought: he had neglected to go through the waiter’s pocket. Perhaps there was some incriminating bit of information there. But he consoled himself that it would be some time before the body was discovered, if ever. His mission would be accomplished by that time and he would be on to a new life.

Still, the oversight rankled. It was an error he would not have made several months ago.

Werthen was not looking forward to the appointment. Netty was wearing the same blue linen shirtwaist and scowl on her face that she had when they had first come to talk with Frau Schratt.

‘She’s expecting you,’ the housekeeper said abruptly. ‘You know where to go.’

She left them to find their own way to the conservatory once again. Werthen and Gross exchanged glances but said nothing. As they made their way down the long hallway, a hand reached out from a dark recess and grabbed Werthen’s arm. It startled him, but his eyes were adjusting to the gloom and he could make out the features of Franzl.

‘Advokat,’ the boy whispered. ‘I’ve got something to tell you.’ He tugged at Werthen’s arm and the lawyer moved into the recess of the doorway while Gross stood watch in the hall.

‘What is it, Franzl?’ Werthen said, his voice lowered.

‘Fraulein Anna and I were talking last night,’ Franzl said, his eyes wide and almost frightened-looking. ‘She says Cook thinks the letter really didn’t go missing after all. That maybe the mistress wants some attention from the emperor.’

Werthen nodded at this confirmation of his own theory.

‘I feel awful,’ Franzl said. ‘She swore me to secrecy.’

‘Who?’

‘Fraulein Anna. I lied to her and after she’s been so good to me.’

Werthen put his hand on the boy’s shoulder. ‘Don’t worry, Franzl. We already decided the same thing, so it’s not really like you betrayed her. That’s why we are here today – to talk to Frau Schratt. Besides, I think your services will not be needed here after today. We’ll take you with us when we go.’

‘They’ve got central heating here, did you know that? Every room has a little heater in it. No fires to build except in the boiler.’

Werthen squeezed Franzl’s shoulder. ‘You’ve done well. Don’t feel guilty.’

He moved back into the hall and told Gross what Franzl had said. The criminologist grunted in assent.

‘Still, it needs to be handled gently,’ Gross said.

Frau Schratt was seated in the same chair as on their last visit. She greeted them with a question: ‘Has there been progress?’

Gross and Werthen sat across from her.

‘Not really, Frau Schratt,’ Gross said.

Her eyes squinted at him. ‘Then why the urgency of this meeting? You could very well notify that creature Montenuovo of your failure. Why bother me?’

Gross sighed. ‘You misunderstand me, Frau Schratt. I think we may have found the letter, but as to progress, that remains to be seen.’

Her squint narrowed now to a look of suspicion. ‘You are speaking in riddles, Doktor Gross.’

He tilted his head at this. ‘I have been accused of that before, Frau Schratt.’

She glanced from Gross to Werthen, but he gave nothing away, either.

They sat in silence for a moment.

‘And just where is this letter now?’ she finally said.

Gross smoothed his moustache with his right forefinger. ‘I believe if we examined your escritoire one more time, we might just discover that the letter somehow became lodged behind another folder or perhaps in the join of the wood.’

‘I told you, I examined the drawer thoroughly,’ Frau Schratt began, and then looked at Gross’s expression, his eyes fixed on her. She shifted her gaze to Werthen, but he also had his courtroom face on.

She sat upright in her chair, clasping her hands in her lap. ‘I see. You believe I deliberately sequestered this letter. To what end?’

Werthen remarked the false note, as did Gross. An innocent person would demand their heads, not question possible motive.

They did not reply.

‘This is absurd,’ she spluttered.

‘Yes, absurd accidents happen,’ Gross replied. ‘Absurd or not, just think how relieved everyone will be, the emperor in particular, when it is learned that the letter is safe. I am sure he will thank you personally. After all, there is no blame to simply mislay a letter. And it was wise of you to sound an alarm when such an important document appeared to have gone missing. It demonstrates due diligence on your part.’

He was offering her a way out and Frau Schratt was apparently considering it.

She stood with a suddenness that caught them off guard.

‘I will take one more look at your insistence,’ she said as they were rising. ‘You may wait here.’

She swept out of the room and Gross and Werthen sat again, saying nothing. Werthen doubted it would take very long.

He was right. Five minutes later she was back in the room, a letter in her hand.

‘I feel such a fool,’ she said, her Burgtheater voice ringing in the conservatory. ‘You gentlemen were right. I do not know how I could have missed it. The letter somehow got into the file of Burgtheater contracts.’

She handed it to Gross. ‘You may return it to the emperor,’ she said grandly.

Gross held his hands to his chest palms out. ‘No, no, my lady. I leave that for you to do in person if so requested. I am only happy to report that things have been resolved so nicely. And now, Frau Schratt, we will take up no more of your valuable time.’

She half bowed at this. ‘I suppose you will be taking your little protege with you,’ she said, obviously referring to Franzl. ‘Too bad, for Cook tells me he is a fine addition to the kitchen.’

‘Yes,’ Werthen said. ‘Franzl will come with us.’

She nodded, feigning a smile. Werthen hoped she did not attribute their deduction to Franzl’s actions and take out retribution on the staff for perceived loose tongues.

‘Count Wilczek sends his regards,’ Werthen said, ‘as does Herr Girardi.’

At least that will give her someone else to wonder about, Werthen thought.

‘You gentlemen have been busy,’ she said, putting out her hand to be kissed. ‘The emperor is fortunate to have such clever fellows in his employ.’