Chris Kuzneski - The Secret Crown

Jones was nearly ready to abandon the desk and focus his attention on the right-hand wall when he came across a handwritten receipt. The paper itself was an early sheet of letterhead that had been printed from a copper engraving. The emblem at the top of the page was a fierce-looking lion holding a shield. At the bottom, there was a name and an address. Jones tried to translate the words but struggled with the language.

‘Hey Petr,’ he said over his shoulder, ‘are you familiar with a city named Minga ?’

Ulster, who was reading one of the letters on the wall, stopped and turned round. ‘As a matter of fact, I am. Minga is the Bavarian name for Munich.’

‘Really? I thought Munchen was the name for Munich.’

Ulster shook his head. ‘That’s the German name for Munich, not the Austro-Bavarian name. Most people get them confused. Why do you ask?’

‘Minga is written on this letterhead.’

‘What letterhead?’

Jones handed it to Ulster. ‘I found it stashed in Ludwig’s desk. I think it’s a receipt. Then again, it could be a grocery list. My Austro-Bavarian is kind of rusty.’

‘So is mine,’ Ulster admitted as he shone his light on the document. ‘But as luck should have it, I believe you are correct. This is a receipt.’

Jones stood from his chair. ‘A receipt for what?’

‘Honestly, I have no idea. It’s one of the most cryptic receipts I have ever seen.’

‘Wow, I guess your Bavarian does need some work.’

Ulster smirked. ‘No, it’s not that. I can read the words perfectly. It’s just, well, the receipt doesn’t say very much. According to this, the item will be available on the first of July 1886.’

‘What item?’

‘That’s the cryptic part. It simply doesn’t say. There’s no price, description or item number. There’s a date of availability and nothing more.’

Jones considered the possibilities. ‘Well, if you think about it, I guess it isn’t too surprising. I mean, how often does a king order something from your store? They’re bound to remember what he bought.’

Ulster nodded. ‘That’s a very good point.’

Heidi turned from the rear wall. ‘What kind of store?’

Jones laughed. ‘We mentioned shopping, and you came running. That’s a shocker.’

She smiled. ‘I am a woman.’

‘Trust me, I’ve noticed.’

Ulster stared at the letterhead. ‘Actually, I don’t know if it’s a store or a law firm. The enterprise was called Hauser amp; Sons. With a name like that, it could have been anything.’

Payne entered the conversation. ‘What about the address?’

‘What about it?’ Ulster asked.

‘Different parts of a city are sometimes known for different things – like Wall Street or Madison Avenue. Maybe the address will give us a clue.’

Ulster struggled to read the tiny print at the bottom of the page. ‘Hauser and Sons was on a street called … Briennerstrasse . Wait! Why do I know that name?’

Heidi giggled with excitement. ‘I used to work near there! Briennerstrasse is one of the best shopping districts in Munich. It’s where wealthy people go to shop.’

He shook his head. ‘Sorry, my dear, that’s incorrect. I know it for some other reason.’

She laughed at Ulster. ‘I wasn’t answering your question. I was telling you why I know the road. The reason you’re probably familiar with Briennerstrasse is because it’s the oldest road in Munich. Plus, it’s very close to Nymphenburg Palace, which is where I used to work.’

Ulster nodded. ‘Yes, of course, Nymphenburg Palace! The summer residence of Bavarian kings. How could that have slipped my mind?’

‘And,’ she added, ‘the birthplace of Ludwig the Second.’

Jones stared at her. ‘Ludwig was born near the street on the receipt?’

She nodded. ‘A few blocks away.’

‘And when was he murdered? Something like two weeks before his order was ready?’

Ulster reread the date on the receipt. ‘I’ll be darned. I failed to make that connection. I must need a snack to recharge my brain.’

Jones patted him on the back. ‘Don’t worry about it. In fact, don’t worry about anything . Call me crazy, but I think Ludwig is trying to tell us something.’

Ulster glanced at him, confused. ‘Really? And what is that?’

Jones grinned. ‘He wants us to go to Oktoberfest.’

66

Everyone assumed Jones was kidding about Oktoberfest. He assured them he wasn’t. ‘Go ahead and laugh, but I’m completely serious. I think the receipt is a major clue.’

Ulster graciously disagreed. ‘As much as I hate to squabble, I think our time would be far better served in this environment than the party atmosphere of Munich.’ To illustrate his point, he shone his flashlight on the walls. ‘Please take a moment to glance about this chamber. The room we’re standing in is filled with more information about Ludwig than a hundred modern textbooks. And all the history you see here is completely unfiltered. It’s as if we stumbled across the tree of knowledge and were given permission to pick the fruit.’

Heidi nodded in agreement. ‘I love Munich as much as the next gal, but I’m with Petr on this one. We’ve barely had time to read any of the letters. Who knows what we could learn?’

Jones looked to Payne for support. ‘Jon?’

Payne took a deep breath. He knew his friend wouldn’t be happy. ‘Listen, I respect your hunches, you know I do. But right now we’re not even sure if Hauser and Sons still exists. I mean, it’s a long way to travel for a store that might have closed its doors in 1890.’

‘Yeah, but-’

Payne cut him off. ‘Even if I voted for you, we still would have lost the tiebreaker.’

‘Tiebreaker? What tiebreaker?’

‘Petr owns the chopper.’

Jones growled and snatched the receipt from Ulster’s hand. ‘In that case, I’m taking this and walking to Oktoberfest.’

Payne laughed. ‘Have a nice hike. Don’t talk to strangers.’

Ulster waited until Jones had left the room and disappeared into the darkness of the hallway. Then he glanced at Payne, concerned. ‘Good heavens! Is David miffed at me?’

Payne shook his head. ‘Relax. When he comes back, everything will be fine.’

Ulster gasped. ‘Comes back from where ?’

‘Don’t worry! He didn’t go to Oktoberfest. If I had to guess, he went outside to get some air. Trust me, when he returns, he won’t even mention Munich.’

Jones climbed the ladder on the far side of the tunnel and opened the secret hatch. Thirty seconds later, he was sitting on the fake tree stump and glancing at his waterproof cell phone. Reception had been nonexistent in the grotto and the tunnel. Now that he was outside, he could finally make a call. He quickly entered a number from memory.

‘Research,’ said Raskin from his office at the Pentagon.

Jones instantly recognized his voice. ‘Randy, my man, it’s David Jones. I wasn’t sure you’d be working this late. I’m glad you’re on duty.’

Raskin typed away furiously. ‘Let me see if I got this straight. You’re happy that I’m working the graveyard shift. That’s awfully sweet of you.’

‘Come on, man. You know I didn’t mean it like that.’

‘Then how did you mean it?’

‘I meant I’m glad you’re the one on duty because I need your expertise.’

Raskin adjusted the microphone on his headset. ‘Damn, DJ, that’s even worse! You’re glad I’m working the graveyard shift because you want to use me. You didn’t even say hello or ask how I’m doing. Yet you expect me to jump to attention.’