Mystery and Mayhem and St Marks

Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's

A Sequel

by

Joel

Seq: 23:

Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned: Mark Henry Foster The story-teller: Newly graduated. Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams His well-proportioned boyfriend. Adam Benjamin Carr Mark's cousin Ivo Richie Carr Ditto, as his twin, a diplomat Sophia Carr Their mother in Dorset George Carr Their father: A farmer Victoria ['Tory] Carr Ivo's wife George Henry Carr Ivo and 'Tory's new-born son Sir Henry Machin 'Tory's father, something in the City Lady Mary Machin 'Tory's mother Ignasz Zendener The hotel manager in Strelzen Tomas, Igor, Frantischek: Receptionists and students Aloys zum Adamszberh Rector of the Rodolfer University Jerzy zum Adamszberh His son, studying at Cambridge Tadeuz Galenosz A botanist, also at Cambridge Herr Diesselhorst A shifty Minister of the Interior Andrei zu Glottenberh Rothenian Army Officer [Special Services] Lucasz Voynovich Rothenian Army Officer [Signals Division] David Vinodosj Secret police

Sunday Morning: Later

We took out seats. Tris and I were either side of Ivo. Jerzy and Tad on our left, looking a little nervous, had a youngish man between them. Further round was a smiling Andrei who had nodded his greeting to us as we had first entered the room. A larger middle-age man sat between him and Lucasz the Signals whizzkid. I assumed he was their boss. Next were the Ministry of Interior people, the man who had asked us to take our places, another younger man and a man with a sort of typewriter in front of him. Father Artur and Jerzy's father, Professor zum Adamszberh were next. Both had bowed their heads in greeting as well. Lastly there was another trio next to us on the right. David, the Adjutant and the taciturn secret policeman. Fourteen all told.

As soon as we had entered the room Ivo had taken my folder and given it to the Ministry man. This had been taken out straight away by the smartly-dressed flunkey and Ivo said it was going to be copied for everyone.

As soon as we were seated a trolley was wheeled in and cups of coffee were placed in front of us. As soon as the two waiters left the Ministry man asked if all were ready. He said Father Artur and Lieutenant-Captain zu Glottenberh would translate into English and he would ask his assistant and Mr Carr to do the same in Rothenian. There was a discreet tap on the door and the flunkey came back in with a pile of paper. That was quick. A copy of our affidavit was given to everyone and the original handed back to Ivo. All was ready to begin.

The Ministry man must have had copious notes as he started by explaining to everyone about Mr X,, also known as 'Andreas Schmidt', 'Matteus Weber', 'Vassily Gerasimov' and three other aliases including the one, 'Josep Gregor', I'd heard before. We heard he had been in charge of various departments in the old security system and had obviously confiscated for his own use any documents he though might be useful. His known exploits included blackmailing an elderly industrialist over fraud when the old boy had been in so-called charge of steel production during the War, siphoning off a good deal of money from various 'overseas' bank accounts of other high-up state employees during the Communist regime, and being a master mind behind the abortive left-wing attempt to take over control of the country in the recent troubles. He had ditched his co-conspirators and had disappeared with a large sum of money to Russia. This brought him to his last and most unsuccessful scheme.

One of the documents he or a minion had discovered was the description Julius Wildenstejn had had deposited in the National Library and the University Library of the role the family played as 'guardians'. Guardians of what was the question. The Ministry man said he would come to that later. I got the impression he was a bit in the dark over that and this meeting might also be a fishing exercise. He then said Mr X had surfaced again in Cambridge. They had had a tip off from a source and had been able to ascertain he was trying to gain entry to college archives but before they had time to put an operative on his trail had heard from a trusted British source about the burning of documents. Here he looked straight in our direction. Although he didn't say I knew the 'trusted British source' must be the Colonel. He did say that a College employee had overheard a conversation between Mr X and a newspaper reporter. And Mr X was worried about being recognised. As far as they knew nothing had appeared in any British newspaper. I looked at Tris who was grinning. Scruffy Kent whatever had missed the scoop of the century!

The Ministry man then held up a transparent plastic envelope with a wodge of paper in it. "This is one copy of a document written by Dr Julius Wildenstejn. This is the one taken from the Rodolfer University Library as there is the Library stamp on the first page." He pointed. "Also inside the document we found the index card for it taken from the Library records, we assume, at the same time. This came our way quite by accident and has led us to solve a number of problems. I will ask Lieutenant-Captain zu Glottenberh to begin."

Andrei stood and told a most colourful tale. He started by repeating what he'd told us on Friday, that on Thursday evening a lady was seen to push an envelope into the alms box near the main door of the Cathedral. Next morning the box was opened at usual by the Sacristan who saw the envelope on which was written, in Russian, 'Save the boys'. He realised it was important so took it straight to Father Artur who was being visited by Professor zum Adamszberh at the time. I looked across at the pair and they were nodding agreement. When the envelope was opened they had read some of the contents which included Dr Wildenstejn's document and realised it was very important. Herr Moskovski said he was sure he knew who had left the envelope. It was Madame Gorshkova. A very devout Russian lady. That really set things going. Both Father Artur and the Rector knew who she was. There were plenty of rumours also about her husband, Vladimir Gorshkov. Andrei said quite candidly that he was one of the biggest Russian crooks in the country but had never put a step wrong. Father Artur had then phoned Colonel Presilev, here Andrei indicated the older man sitting next to him.

"We take the next happening, or coincidence, because at that moment my colleague, Lieutenant Voynovich was reporting on signals we had picked up and transcribed." Here he indicated Lucasz who was the other side of the Colonel. He then pointed towards David. "I will ask Herr Vinodosj to continue."

David stood up and smiled at us. "Please excuse me. I will speak in Rothenian."

David spoke slowly, with Father Artur translating, and described how we had discovered that our bags had been opened at the airport and my pencil-case had been taken and that Ivo had phoned the Adjutant immediately. No one asked the obvious question. Why ring security over the loss of a pencil-case? But, what did anyone here know? He then said that he had been called in later because we suspected we had been bugged. He had found the bug and on the spur of the moment had transferred it to the next room. He then said about the problem with catching the transmissions. Here he looked at Lucasz who took over and said the bug was the latest Russian design. Luckily, he had details of it and was able to record the transmissions and also to pin-point the receiving station as well as it had to send a signal back to acknowledge the randomness of the next signal. He said this was a design fault but had been an immense help.

There was a ripple of laughter from the Rothenians when he said that the recordings were of a sensitive nature as there were a number of private interactions which took place. I must say the English heard it quite stoically. Just thinking it was a good job Tris had realised we had been bugged! However, whoever was listening must have worked out the route the two young men were planning to take on their journey into the countryside.

Andrei took over again. "The receiving station was over the river and somewhere in the Seventh District and my colleague was able to place it exactly after the next transmission. As soon as we heard the name Gorschkov we had immediate permission and instructions to rescue the English boys who we assumed were held at the Gorschkov mansion. A number of special services troops were sent to this house up on the Starel Heights. It was abandoned. Just five of his employees, all male, who surrendered and said that three others had been sent off somewhere to take care of 'enemies'. No struggle. And no English boys. We then heard that a private plane had left the City airport at ten o'clock with Gorschkov, his wife and their son and daughter." He shook his head. "Unknown destination."

It was Lucasz's turn again. He said on hearing this he realised that the English boys must be elsewhere. "We were not certain of Gorschkov's instructions. But with the warning from his wife we knew we had to act quickly. We knew Mr Doggett and Mr Baldry had come supposedly with a wedding group but they were doing things on their own. I confess we thought they might be interested in our country's defences as they had toured Rechtenberg and the barracks there extensively."

I think Tris and I nearly had hysterics then. Brett and Fraser as archetypal spies? No way. I bet they had toured extensively - ogling, and probably photographing, the brawny lads marching or exercising! Ivo put his hand up.

"May I place on unofficial record that neither Mr Doggett nor Mr Baldry have any connection with British Intelligence." He said this in English and then, I assumed, repeated it in Rothenian as the names were quite intelligible.

I noted the man with the typewriter gadget did not put any of that on the machine.

Lucasz continued with a smile. "I must confess also that we had placed a bug in the car they had hired which gave us their position. I was able to say they had parked their car and had not moved it overnight and it was just outside the village of Gastberh. In the Gorschkov house there was a very sophisticated radio tracking system and it was fixed on Gastberh, too. Luckily the officer radioed that information back. We found the transmitter later in an SUV abandoned on a road to a large country house."

Andrei took over again. "Colonel Presilev then gave the order to find what was happening in Gastberh. I was assigned as officer in charge and immediately contacted Mr Carr who realised that Mr Foster and Mr Price-Williams were also likely to be in that area, with Herr Zum Adamszberh and Herr Galenosz, too. I have not told them but four humans creeping along a ditch are perfectly visible to heat-seeking apparatus in a high-flying helicopter at a distance of four kilometres especially at the slow speed they were going. We had also pinpointed one person in a tree." I had a great urge to give him a really vigorous two fingers. I had wondered how he knew to call out our names.

The Ministry man said something to his assistant who nodded. The boss man then picked up a copy of our affidavit. "I think it would be helpful if either Mr Foster or Mr Price- Williams would take us through this very interesting account." He'd obviously been reading it while the other stuff was being said.

I looked at Tris and nudged Ivo. "He's the lawyer."

Tris took it all in his stride. He went through, elaborating quite a bit of the document. He started off by saying that he was accompanying me as I had been invited to present some mathematical findings I had made to the Mathematical Faculty at the Rodolfer University. He said a bit about our quest for herbs and plants and this was why we were in that area. Really thanks to Professor Pelzer's recommendation of the nurseryman in Rechtenberg and the botanical expertise of Herr Galenosz. He described the sighting of the house but glossed over the stealthy approach to the house. However, there was intense interest by the group when he described the thunder, the flash and the bang followed by the three bodies being ejected from the door. When he got to the part where Fraser had shouted and Brett had answered and how the clues in the burnt documents fitted the description of the door he looked at me and it was my turn.

I said the burnt document had specified four locks, and three rods and death's heads had been mentioned. There were four of these depicted on the door. I then held up the key on the ring. As I described how I opened the door I passed the key-ring to Jerzy who held it and then put the silver key to his lips. I assumed the man next to him was a lawyer. He had a cursory glance and passed the keys onto Tad. He did the same as Jerzy, then the keys made the rounds. I noted both Father Artur and the Rector looked intently at them. Finally, as I reached the end of my contribution by saying how the door closed, Ivo passed the keys back to me. Oh, yes, there was a real frisson when I described Brett emerging holding the disc. Someone had passed on the pictures as the assistant took copies of both Tris's and the military cameraman's out of a folder and passed them round. There was one of Brett with the disc as well as another with the three thugs on the ground.

Tris took over again and described our search of the house. The piece de resistance there was my production of the two photos. The one, a copy of that in Dr Stein's possession. The other, the one found in the house. The Ministry man was nodding his head as he looked at the pair when they reached him. Again something was said to the assistant who scribbled something on the pad in front of him.

There was more to come. Quickly, Andrei said about getting Brett and Fraser back so they could catch their plane the next day, then came the summing-up by the Ministry man. Firstly, the man with the bullet-hole in his foot (and very sore balls, stuffed arse and maltreated cock, though these details were not mentioned) was identified as the leader of another bunch of crooks, this time a native Rothenian. He'd been given the job of retrieving whatever we were bringing from England. He had been employed by the Russian to whom he owed money. He was recovering in a prison hospital. But, how did they know we were bringing anything? We hadn't realised but one of the postgraduate students in the Michaelhouse Library when I was there with James Tanner was Russian and was in debt to Gorschkov's mob somehow. He had also reported back on Mr X's abortive attempt to get Mr Luffman to let him into the stacks as a sort of double agent intent on saving his skin one way or the other. This had all been found out since we'd been in Rothenia as the student had also confessed to Mr Luffman as he'd been caught in Mr L's study looking for the key to the stacks as he wanted to find out if there was anything more which might be of interest and he could sell on to reduce his debt.

Next was the description of the Gorschkov house and things found there given by the Ministry man. Firstly, eight of his henchman were now on remand in prison and being questioned. The sophisticated listening and tracking apparatus had been confiscated and would be useful adjuncts to their own equipment. David and Lucasz were smiling at each other over that statement. There were computer hard discs to be analysed and masses of printouts to be read relating to wide criminal activities, mainly drug running and extortion against firms and businesses. There were also documents which were obviously used to blackmail a number of present-day Rothenians and others. There was also a range of firearms, including the revolver which was being tested as it was thought to be the one used to shoot Mr X. Lastly, they had found a very large sum of money in various currencies in two safes and were still waiting for information from the German manufacturer of a third about accessing that one. Meanwhile, it was most important that information heard today should not be discussed or made public. At the appropriate time announcements would be made although he knew rumours were already circulating.

The Ministry man looked quite pleased as he got to the end of that. He then said he had to congratulate all who had taken part and hoped that those who had been unwilling, or accidental participants in the drama would take comfort that a very dangerous and evil empire had been shattered. He praised particularly Andrei and his elite team, the Adjutant and his men and then turned to Father Artur and the Rector and said the greatest help was their realisation of the urgency of the matter. Yes, true, if they hadn't made that phone call things could have turned out quite differently. But, would St Fenice have allowed that?

As the meeting broke up so we were able to talk to the others there. Ivo was being the diplomat and circulating talking especially to the young lawyer who had sat between Jerzy and Tad. We asked Jerzy and Tad if they would like to accompany us on our proposed excursion to Zenda the next day. Tad declined as he had to work on his dissertation and he was far behind with his work at the Gardens. Jerzy said he would come and we made arrangements to meet him at the Raathausplatz at half past eight in the morning. The Rector said it was a most interesting place to visit, but was most apologetic over what had happened to us and hoped we had not got wrong ideas about the country. He asked if we had seen the newspapers. I said Ivo had given me a copy of one. He smiled and said I had made quite an impression. The Ministry man was most effusive and said the Minister was extremely pleased about all the outcomes and gave me a folded copy of another newspaper. I wondered if he had a tic or did he really wink. Finally, we were button-holed by Father Artur.

"What an experience," he said as he shook our hands. "At least you came through all this undamaged.. But, I have to tell you the Cardinal returns tomorrow so would it be convenient for you to meet him for the handover on Tuesday afternoon. I will arrange it with Ivo." His eyes crinkled behind his glasses. "It was interesting no one mentioned what you might be bringing to Rothenia other than your mathematical skills. That was good. I see you have that." He pointed to the newspaper. "Excellent playing it says. It was, and you must come and play again."

We were gathered up by Ivo after we had done the rest of the rounds getting congratulated and handshaken by all and sundry. Andrei just about gave us each a hug. "See you at lunch." He looked at me and pointed down at the newspaper. "Pin-up boy!"

On the way to Ivo's house I mulled over what we had heard. I felt there were many questions still to be asked and there were missing elements. I didn't say anything in the car but I would have to share all my thoughts with Tris and especially Ivo. I only half listened as Ivo translated the caption under the photo. It was very straightforward. Just that the Minister of the Interior had met a guest of the Rodolfer who was at the University of Cambridge. I had the feeling said Minister was not too liked.

But, before any other deconstructions, lunch! We started at Ivo's flat where 'Tory was waiting rather impatiently for news. We got kisses and then she stood back and surveyed us.

"And how long do I have to wait before I hear what happened this morning?"

"Government papers in England are usually unpublishable under the thirty-year rule," said Tris with an absolutely straight face.

"Clot!" she said. "Tell me, or else you don't see George Henry for thirty years either!"

That did it. Ivo got us drinks and Tris and I were told to get on with the tale. We didn't go into too much detail as lunch was scheduled for one o'clock and we both wanted to see George Henry before that. 'Tory just nodded when Tris said a Russian was involved, who had since scarpered, and eight of his hoodlums were in custody and nothing was to be divulged. 'Tory laughed.

"Yesterday afternoon I had that young lad, Marek, for an English lesson. He's a son of one of the high-ups at the Palace. Senior Equerry I think dad is. Anyway, I usually get the kids to tell me about school, or their friends but, of course, school's out so I get all the juicy gossip from the Palace." She turned to Ivo. "Before I forget. Rudi the Beautiful flies in on Tuesday week and I think you'll be needed as there's talk of a trade mission in the offing so Marek said."

"Another bloody day," he moaned, "I'm supposed to be on paternity leave."

"Fat lot of use you are here," said 'Tory, "Only tried to see if his son preferred jazz to Mozart. Luckily he slept through it all."

"Juicy gossip? Trade missions?" Tris was on a winding-up excursion.

'Tory laughed. "Marek's just on sixteen, bright as a button, totally afflicted with acne and wants to study Economics. Anyway, may I continue?" Nods all round. "He said...," Here she leant forward conspiratorially, "...he was quite devastated as a girl at that International School he is at has disappeared and he thinks her father has taken her back to Russia. I didn't enquire too closely but I think he's besotted with her at a distance, mainly as his face looks like a plucked chicken's bum with goosepimples."

"Ugh," went Ivo, "We don't want to hear that. Poor lad. And when have you been studying chickens' bums?

"A figure of speech. Let me continue," she took a swig of the apple juice she was drinking. "Anyway, Marek then said there were plenty of rumours that Marietta's father was a major crime boss. He's got a big yacht moored at Monaco and houses here, there and everywhere."

"Did he say Monaco?" 'Tory nodded. "Sure?" Another nod. "And the surname wouldn't be Gorschkov by any chance?"

'Tory laughed. "I've seen his English workbook and there are three girls listed on the inside cover and one is Marietta Gorschkova."

"Thanks," said Ivo, "Must make a phone call."

He was off. We then had to explain about the name. 'Tory was highly amused. "Better tell Ivo I also know about his house in Georgia. In fact I showed Marek how to write her name in Cyrillic as he wanted to send her a birthday card during the Easter break and I had to do the switch from Cyrillic to Roman for the address." She went over to a desk and got out a sheet of paper. "Won't be a moment."

I looked at my watch. Ten to one. I said to Tris I hoped this wouldn't delay food as I was starving. At that moment the front doorbell rang. No sign of Ivo or 'Tory so Tris went to see who it was. He came back in again with Andrei and Lucasz following him. He told them quickly what had happened. There was an anguished 'Oh fuck!' from Andrei followed by a stream of Rothenian to Lucasz. Luckily, Ivo appeared and more Rothenian ensued with Tris and me staring like the proverbial spare pricks.

"Sorry you two," said a happy Ivo when he'd finished. "Just to say there's a great hunt on. Its OK, none of us is involved now." He went over to Andrei and Lucasz and hugged them both in greeting. "Have you said a proper hello to this pair," he turned and pointed to us. Ouch, we got Rothenian bear hugs and triple cheek kisses from two real hunks. 'Pin-up boy' gave Andrei the benefit of a whispered 'Sexy soldier!' as Ivo called out "Drinks now, quickly before we go downstairs."

"What about George Henry?" said Tris plaintively.

"OK, you can come and see him. Leave your drink here and don't breathe gin over him or he'll grow up to be like my brother."

We filed into the back bedroom, now fitted out as the nursery. A youngish lady was there - the Nanny - and she allowed us to peer at the sleeping lad. No picking up and holding today.

'Tory was waiting for us in the drawing-room. "Quite a gathering for lunch down below. Frau Schreiber insisted and it's Isolde's twenty-third birthday tomorrow and there might be an announcement."

Dead on one 'Tory pressed the bell-push by the front door for the flat below. A great greeting from Frau Schreiber and the six of us were led into the identical drawing-room below the one we'd left above. Hugs, or kisses, or handshakes, or combinations, all round. A hug especially for Yniold who was standing next to the handsome Pyotor who received one as well. Isolde was there with Ingo her boy friend and 'Tory handed over an envelope and prettily wrapped box to her with the admonition 'For tomorrow'. Dr Schreiber handed round glasses of fruit wine and quite spontaneously, with Isolde blushing, the four English sang 'Happy Birthday To You' adding 'tomorrow' even if it didn't scan.

There was much talk over a sumptuous lunch served by two young girls from a catering college. We heard that Ingo had been appointed Principal Oboe both in the opera orchestra and in the Rothenian Radio Orchestra. Isolde was booked to play a cello concerto with a chamber orchestra in Leipzig and in Weimar in September and Yniold and Pyotor had achieved the grades required for admission to the final year at the Gymnasium. Nothing was said about our adventures other than comments about the photo and the glowing review praising both Anton's and my playing and the choice of items for the recital.

After lunch there was more chat, then Dr Schreiber said perhaps we could have a little musical gathering. Something had already been planned I guessed as Isolde came back in with her cello and, with her father accompanying her, played the first movement of the Brahms F major Sonata. It was then Ingo' turn and he played part of a quirky modern piece which he said he'd had to learn for his examinations at the Paris Conservatoire. I knew I wouldn't get away so Beethoven it had to be. Luckily I spotted a volume of sonatas near the piano. Number 29 in G fell open and although I hadn't played it for ages I really enjoyed it. Tris turned the pages for me. Then I accompanied him in the song he'd sung at the last Burns Night Supper at Ulvescott, 'My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose'. Yniold was up next. Again a cello and he bravely and very competently played two movements from an unaccompanied suite by Bach. A good ear and a flawless tone. Finally, a terrific highlight was Pyotor. That low-pitched voice was perfectly matched by a splendidly mature bass singing voice. With Dr Schreiber accompanying he sang two Russian folk songs and as an encore, which really astounded us all, he sang Sarastro's aria 'In diesen heil'gen Hallen' from Mozart's Magic Flute. Yes, it was magical. The voice was so rich and he hit those bottom F and G sharps with a full-blooded but sensitive touch. Yniold's face was a picture as the lad sang 'In diesen heil'gen Mauern wo Mensch den Menschen liebt'. The double meaning for him could not have been clearer. Even I knew the translation 'Within these sacred walls where man loves fellow man'. Dr Schreiber was obviously fond of the lad, too. He come over to Tris and me as the applause died down.

"I have persuaded him to take Music when he comes to the Rodolfer. He must be trained. That voice is so good. I will make sure he has the best teachers." He shook his head. "I hope he does not break my Yniold's heart." Yes, father had recognised and knew that friendship.

I had to say it. "I think that friendship is on both sides."

Dr Schreiber smiled. "I just needed to know. I guessed someone had spoken to you."

I smiled, too. "Both."

At five o'clock it was tea-time. At least a Rothenian or German version of the English ritual. An hour late and weak foreign tea, but what does it matter! The highlight of that was the production of a birthday cake which had a beribboned box on it. Isolde was instructed to cut the cake and the box was for her. She did as she was told and then opened the box. Inside was a small piece of paper with writing on it and nestling in the box was a ring. She screamed after she read what was on the paper and grabbed Ingo and kissed him. All was set. The engagement ring was placed on her finger as Ingo knelt and asked her to marry him. First to hug her and tell her to say 'Yes' was Yniold. Then everyone did the same in turn. Her father was last and he hugged Ingo first and then held both their hands and put them together. He said something first in Rothenian to much laughter and then translated for us. "I have told Ingo he should have asked me first, I do not mean for me to marry him, but for him to marry my daughter. I consent." He raised a finger. "We must have a toast. Proper. Not tea!" From somewhere champagne appeared and the happy couple were toasted. I noticed that Yniold and Pyotor linked arms and drank from each other's glasses. They saw me watching and giggled so I raised my glass. A toast to them, too.

All too soon the afternoon was over. After this morning's meeting the pleasure of being in such company was so relaxing. Lucasz was on duty that night so the pair went off after the usual plethora of hugs and kisses. However, for us there were things to discuss. On going back to Ivo and 'Tory's flat we had to see George Henry again. It was time for another feed so we left 'Tory with him and the Nanny and went into the drawing-room and settled down. As we sat Ivo smiled.

"I know you realise that this morning's meeting was only part of the story." He looked from me to Tris. "You had that look on your faces at the end. Like greyhounds in the slips, straining! True, the game's afoot! But, questions weren't asked and there were plenty of answers not given. So, who wants to start and see if we agree?"

Tris nodded at me. "He's the detective story expert let him."

I had been mulling over things. "Let's sum up. OK, Mr X sold that document to Gorschkov and we know he was behind the various things we heard about this morning. I assume he was alerted that I'd found something in Michaelhouse by that Russian student." Ivo nodded. "That had puzzled me. I'd even wondered at one time if Mr Luffman himself was the informer. That first harangue at James Tanner, then the sudden change in attitude puzzled me. I can see now he's so attached to that library any approach by anybody could be seen as an attack. I think James was a bit wary, too."

"It's OK," said Ivo, "I don't want you to think we've gone behind your back but I had a long chat with James Tanner yesterday afternoon on the phone. He's in the picture and said he and Jacob had been invited to the Luffman's and the old boy is quite different now. He also said your American had been in contact and was being looked at as a Godsend by Mr L. No problems, there. And he just laughed when I said you would be arriving back with bundles of herbs. Next?"

It was Tris's turn. "The fat hairy man wasn't mentioned. We know he is, or was, a policeman. Where does he fit?"

Ivo nodded. "He wasn't mentioned because he was just a pawn in another of Mr X's little scams but this one didn't work. Just a little recent history to put you in the picture. In the troubles leading up to the installation of King Rudi the Left took a real battering. Their previous organisation is in tatters and it's a bit like the Life of Brian. The Rothenian Socialist Democratic Republicans won't talk to the Rothenian Democratic Socialist Republicans and so on, ad infinitum. Mr X had tried to sell info about documents or something associated with a Cambridge college to one lot, but they had no money to pay. Two of the leaders who still cling to their principles are on the staff of the Rodolfer. They heard of the Maths whizzkid and his lawyer pal coming from Cambridge and put two and two together and made fifty-one. Among their odd flock was the policeman, left over in the flotsam from the previous regime and very disgruntled about being posted to a shitty job and no extra pay or promotion, and he was used to keep an eye on you two. We have to thank David for that info as said policeman is now safely retired having spilled the beans. He was already under suspicion as certain information was being leaked and appearing in left-wing news-sheets. He's very lucky not to be in one of the State prisons nursing unmentionable injuries inflicted by long-term sex-starved inmates."

"And the lads thought he was importuning them and inflicted their own injuries!" said Tris.

"Yep, thanks to them he coughed up the confession straight away as he didn't want to go back to the Spa again, either."

"Those are minor things," I said, "But there is one thing that worries me." Ivo smiled but didn't interrupt. "I guess you know what I'm going to say. We know about one copy of Julius Stein's documents. Where's the batch stolen from the National Library?"

Ivo breathed out a real sigh. "If only we knew. Of course, we're certain that Mr X had both sets and probably sold off the second one, too. I can assure you there's plenty going on both in Andrei's department and even more so in the Adjutant's. There are several theories but no hard facts at the moment. I think I can tell you that the hard Right is under surveillance. Again, several factions, one in particular called the Catholic Renewal Party. It fell out of favour years ago as it was very much Fascist in character and was suppressed during the Communist time. There are still remnants and although it avows it's very pro-Monarchy there was dissension because Rudi's line had to be legitimised. It was done as part of European Union law but there were many devout people who didn't like the idea of the succession going the other side of the blanket, as it were. "

"So, is there someone else who might be King?"

"Hard to tell. No one directly. Prince Leopold who was the son of King Albert of Thuringia died some years ago. No issue, as they say." He smiled. "Evidence is he was gay. Then there was King Maxim before the Republic was constituted in the 20s. He was Rudi's great-uncle, but he had no children either. Out of the country there's a branch of the Neapolitan Bourbons descended from Leopold's sister. The head there is Ferdinand, duke of Caserta and he still calls himself Prince of Thuringia and Rothenia. No others known but, as usual, there's probably a horde of hidden princelings and their descendants from even further in the past. Of course, Andrei has royal antecedents way back, but I think looking for another Royal is rather off-beam."

"So the Leo mentioned in the burnt documents could have been that Leopold?" I said.

"Yes, we've considered that reference and it's probably him. He never married. One theory is he may have had had something to do with the Crown of Tassilo being, as it were, lost. That's pure supposition. There was some bod from Oxford over here on a dig in the 30's and something happened which got hushed up. Of course, in a country like this there's always speculation about buried treasure. Quite a bit of the Royal Treasury went missing around the time of World War One and there are tales about hidden stuff going all the way back to the sainted Countess and beyond. Bit like that newspaper that maintained Elvis Presley or a London bus was on the moon."

"But Mark solved the code and we found the treasure at St Mark's," Tris said. "I wouldn't pooh-pooh such things. Sutton Hoo, Tutankhamun, Troy. Plenty of other cases."

"Yes, I admit that," said Ivo, "I'm not being dismissive but..." He wrinkled his nose.

"...But are there any other factions, groups, crime-lords, or whatever?" I asked, changing the subject. "If Mr X sold one copy to Gorschkov, is there anyone else like him?"

Ivo shook his head. "I just don't know. One hears about all sorts of villains around. Between us here I know David's mob have been investigating the problem of people trafficking. There is evidence that Rothenians, Albanians and Romanians are all involved in some way. David's quite a linguist and he's been learning Albanian on the quiet so he can get some idea of what's said when the usual minor crims are brought in. They have to rely on interpreters and sometimes they haven't been too sure they're getting the full report of what's said. Whatever it is it's money, money, money! So, it's anybody's guess where the other copy went and what story went with it. Mr X had a flat off the Herrengasse and that was searched thoroughly but nothing was found. Not even a safe. They suspect he had other apartments elsewhere and David did hint they had a lead." He smiled. "You're going to say how does Ivo know so much? Sorry, can't tell you more. I'll get Adam to edit my memoirs some time."

Oh! Ask something else.

"No one said anything about the three thugs being Tasered. What's the line on that?" I asked.

"Your testimony has been noted. I know Jerzy and Tad have been instructed not to say anything. That chap with them this morning is on the Law Faculty at the Rodolfer and he's on the ball. He said to me there were too many unanswered questions as well. I guess it'll be that some top-secret military device was tried out."

"We know it wasn't," said Tris with feeling, "And I'm not being told to shut up by anyone. I know there's a D Notice or whatever and I'm willing to keep to that, but whatever happened wasn't anything military!"

Ivo held up a hand. "Nothing's been said about you being told to keep quiet. I have no power to do that and the Rothenians haven't either. All I can ask is, please don't speculate in public. I have the feeling Father Artur will have things to ask you. Just say what you saw as you have in the statement."

"And the woman's voice?" Tris asked, "I don't think Brett and Fraser made that up."

"Noted, too. I think they will be asked to come back and report to Father Artur as well."

"You keep mentioning Father Artur," said Tris, "An eminence grise?"

Ivo laughed. "Well put. I think he knows a lot more than he says."

"I agree," I said, "He's said several things that give me that impression, too."

'Tory came back in at that moment looking a bit worn. She been gone the best part of an hour. "Come to any sensible conclusions?"

Ivo patted the seat of the sofa he was sitting on. She sat and he put his arm around her. "No, just going over the known knowns and the known unknowns and wondering what will happen when the unknown knowns and unknown unknowns burst upon us."

Tris laughed. "It's the fourth of those that worries me. I came here all innocently with Mark to help deliver a box and protect him when he dispensed his mathematical ramblings in case he got pelted with rotten tomatoes and then help him find ingredients for some concoction only he amongst us has sampled. Yeah, then I find myself in the middle of thieving at airports, being bugged, stalked by a renegade copper, witnessing supernatural happenings, experiencing a full-scale military operation, all followed up with a debriefing that tells us nothing. So what unknown unknowns come next?

'Tory laughed. "That is a cogent philosophical point I guess. Are we in the midst of some great scheme which will only be revealed to us gradually or will there be another flash and bang?"

Tris snorted. "I haven't a clue. We've still got the Cardinal to meet and deal with that box."

I fished in my pocket. "And I think that's the key!" I held up the key-ring.

'Tory's face went solemn . "I'm just a bit envious I won't be there. I met the Cardinal once soon after we got here. It was at the Legation when Ivo was being introduced. He spent ages asking me about Cambridge in very good English. He said he always regretted he wasn't allowed to travel widely as a young priest although he had studied in Rome for two years. He said he had always listened to the BBC World Service to get the true news even way back during the Hungarian uprising in fifty-six and he'd learned a lot of English that way. I think he likes the Brits."

Ivo snuggled up closer to her. "You'll be at the next reception at the Legation. I think that trade mission will be headed by one of the Royals, there's something already in my diary. Anyway, you two, I'll lose another day tomorrow sorting out your visit to the Cardinal's palace and another day escorting you there. I will then complain to Her Majesty that her loyal and faithful servant is being overworked..."

A hand was stretched out and placed quite delicately over his open mouth. "...And I'll tell her you love your job and you're much better out of the house than cluttering the place up. So...," She took her hand away from a now silenced Ivo and looked across to us. "...What have you planned for tomorrow?"

"We've arranged with Jerzy to go on that bus trip up to Zenda," Tris said.

"Tad can't come," I explained. "Anyway, there's a lad who works in the hotel whose father drives the bus. I've been given a brochure with the old prices and been told to haggle." I pointed at Tris. "I'll leave that to him, though. Give him some practice when he has to stand up in court."

Ivo was nodding. "You'll like that. We went there the first weekend we got here. 'Tory's always had a passion for that book. The glamourous Rupert I guess!"

"Of course. And weren't we disappointed in the Bitch Niche when we heard Rudi was going to that other place. Might have thrown myself at his feet and declared undying love if he'd come to our St John's instead." She laughed. "Queen Victoria ooh la la. But I got Ivo the Magnificent instead."

Ivo bowed his head. "Couldn't have been a better choice."

On that happy note we said we would be going. We refused another drink and said we'd stroll back to the hotel and have a relatively early night as the bus left the Raathaus-Platz at eight forty-five in the morning. Ivo's injunction as he saw us to the door was "I hope you don't cause another diplomatic incident!" Tris told him our experience could not be construed as that as we were onlookers rather than active participants. Ivo poked him in the side. "Bloody lawyers! Yep. Not so bad as having to get the CEO of one of our major companies out of clink as he'd been found wandering down the Wejg stoned out of his tiny mind and minus his trousers. And it certainly wasn't a pencil-case they found stuck up his backside!" He shut the door on us before we could get him to elaborate on that little tale!

We were quiet on the way back. We took a longish route as it was a very pleasant evening and we both said we wanted to see more of the various types of architecture and the way the city was laid out with small squares and parks. Also, I think we were both mulling over the interesting day we'd had. What we were not prepared for was the uproarious party which was going on in the long room when we arrived at the hotel. Thirty-five or so elderly and mainly large, and now fairly well-liquored, Germans, were having a ball. Tables had been pushed back and several couples were dancing, or prancing, to the strains of two accordionists and a sprightly fiddler who looked at least ninety. The rest were singing along or banging their beer glasses on the tables in relatively good rhythm. Frantischek, and Igor, with white aprons on, were darting around with plates of cut sausages and other unmentionable looking foodstuffs, while Tomas was refilling glasses with beer from a barrel up on a stand, or wine from a variety of bottles on a table. Ignasz, the hotel owner, was sitting behind the Reception desk scratching his head.

"They haf been drinking since six o'clock," he said, "Zat is ze second barrel and it is almost gone. I must get another."

"They are enjoying themselves," said Tris. We did, too. No early night as we were more or less dragged into the melee by two spry seventy-plus-year-olds and were plied with drink but we didn't have to dance. Good job as it involved a lot of thigh-slapping and knees-bending which even the large-framed seemed to have no difficulty doing. The noise was too much for any conversation but all were happy and other guests who were coming back from evenings out were also cajoled to join in.

In one lull I did manage to tell Franzi about our proposed trip. "May I come? I show." Why not? If I got fed up with looking at Tris, God forbid, Franzi was a delectable young man.

A little later he came up and whispered. "My friend Pyotor and his friend will come." Good. Three to ogle. That only left Igor and Tomas. As we left to go up to bed leaving a still heaving and drinking pack of red-faced and sweating oldies Igor said he was sorry he could not come with us as he had to work.

Although tired we still were able to satisfy each other's wants. I fell asleep holding onto Tris on his bed and was dozing away when the most almighty rumpus started in the corridor outside. The party below had stopped just before midnight and as Tris was also now awake he clicked on the bedside light.

"Oh, shit!" he said, "You awake?" No answer to that as I was sitting up against him. "It's fucking gone one! What's going on?" Tris did not usually use expletives unless really pissed off. Yeah, being woken suddenly was a pissing-off reason!

"Sounds if the Germans are around." A reasonable conclusion as at least three male voices were making comments or issuing commands in hoarse loud whispers in that language. Also it sounded as if something was being wheeled along as well.

"Want to have a look?" he asked as he stood up. His dick was floppy.

"I saw and felt that less than an hour ago," I said nonchalantly putting a hand out and lifting the flaccid object.

"Fool! Come on, let's have a look outside."

It didn't sound as if we were being raided by disgruntled Russians and, being inquisitive, it all sounded interesting. Not bothering that we might be smelling a bit sweaty we pulled on shorts and tops and went to the door. Whatever had been wheeled past had reached the lift and there was a slight altercation and some of the talk was in Rothenian. We heard the lift doors close so took that as a signal to open our door. Wow! There was a line-up of silent German bodies in undress mode - ladies in voluminous nighties and men in an assortment of nightwear ranging from flannelette pyjamas to skimpy briefs quite undesigned to support the rather overdeveloped paunches. On seeing us there was a silent dispersal and within seconds they had disappeared back into their rooms.

Tris nodded his head towards the stairs. "Come on, let's find out what's been happening."

"Just bloody nosy," I said but followed him downstairs.

In the lobby it was chaos. Firstly, two paramedics were getting ready to push a loaded trolley through the hotel doors to an ambulance outside. I recognised the patient. It was the crotch-clutching boaster of the day before. Two scantily dressed German men were standing with Ignasz haranguing them. One was covered in so much black body hair he looked just like a bear from the mountains where the party came from. The lift then opened and a bandaged, very large, German lady was led out on the arm of a lady paramedic. The lady had on a loose dressing-gown at least six sizes too small so it gaped open at the front and I shut my eyes in horror at the sight. Suffice to say she was naked. I looked at Tris who slowly shook his head.

The other sight was much more pleasant. To get out of the way we had moved towards the Reception desk. A naked pair, Tomas and Igor, were standing behind this watching the turmoil intently. Both had protective hands firmly over their genitalia. The door to Tomas's cubby-hole was open so I guessed Igor was staying overnight. They saw us and Igor shrugged his shoulders. Catching my eye Tomas blushed. Probably realising they might be even more objects of interest Tomas turned and went back into the little room. Igor grinned and still covering his bits made another universal gesture - that of bucking his hips back and forth - and followed Tomas and closed the door.

"Back to bed," Tris said, "The mind boggles! And it looks as if young Tomas will be losing his cherry tonight."

Never having witnessed such a sight before as that lady I was utterly boggled. It was a sight to make eyes sore and to be the stuff of nightmares for the sensitive. And as for that pair! We rushed upstairs and being less than sensitive the pair of us howled with laughter as we clutched each other and rolled on Tris's bed.

We didn't bother discussing the contents of the too small dressing-gown but Tris was concerned about Tomas and Igor.

"I hope Igor uses a condom if he's giving Tomas the full works," he said.

"Well, he must still have the ones you gave him for Pyotor and Yniold as that pair weren't at the Spa today. I hope he's sensible."

"He'll certainly be asked, he had Franzi in there as well last week!" was Tris's reply.

I needed to be with Tris after that disturbance so slept the night away spooned up against him. For once he woke first and wakened me with light kisses to my closed eyes. "Better make sure your sex-drive is slightly reduced if we are to be surrounded by beddable boys." OK, OK, I hoped not too reduced as he sucked away my morning's offering. Slowly and gently I did the same to him. "It's half seven," he said as he got his breath back, "We'll have to get a move on but we can get some breakfast at that restaurant by the Platz."

So showered, shaved, dressed and happy we sauntered down the stairs. I think we'd more or less forgotten about the previous night's furor. We'd heard nothing more as we settled to sleep.

Igor and Tomas were already up and clearing the tables in the long room. There were two recumbent bodies asleep in two of the large armchairs in the room. No one else was around so Tris beckoned Igor. He was quite blunt.

"Did you fuck Tomas last night?" he asked quietly "And Franzi before?"

Igor looked at the ground and took the three-pack from his pocket. "Please, I use one for Tomas. I know I steal. We wanted so much." He looked at us with a most sorrowful expression. "With Franzi we did not. Just lie together. I sorry I take. I pay. You want you take me."

"No, Igor," Tris said and put out a hand and held his arm. "We wanted to know if Tomas and Franzi were safe."

A tear slowly trickled from Igor's left eye. He shook his head. "I no hurt that boy Franzi. He is so good. But Tomas. We make real love he say. Tomas is different boy now. We love. Please... .....forgive."

Tris bent over to the shorter lad and kissed his cheek. "Igor, you are a good boy. Nothing to forgive. But.., ....please give the others to Pyotor."

A slightly stunned boy looked up at Tris. Another fully under Tris's control as a shy smile lit up his face.

"You are kind. I should have hit. My father use belt when I was boy and steal."

"No, Igor, you did the right thing," I said and the smile was directed at me.

"English boys use them," he said quietly, "But German man fuck me last year." He shook his head.

"Have you been for tests?" I asked.

He shook his head again.

"You must go," said Tris. The smile vanished. "It's OK, we'll arrange it. You go and help Tomas and we will see you when we come back."

"Thank you," he said and the smile came back, "I think I stay with Tomas all today. Mr Zedener has much jobs." He pointed at the sleeping men. "Bad thing. That man has wife in hospital. She break bed with other man. He not know." He shook his head vigorously "Mr Zedener say not tell. They try fuck and bed breaks." His chest heaved. "Too fat!"

Tris laughed and smacked his backside as Igor turned to go to the long room. "Thanks for telling us. We won't tell Mr Zedener."

We had a good giggle as we hurried to get to the Platz. I shuddered to think of that conjunction and the injuries that ensued. Hubby was obviously oblivious. Still snoring away the effects of a good party! Anyway we met up with Jerzy and just had time to have a croissant and coffee before lining up at the ticket kiosk. There were about twenty others milling around or in the queue and then the three boys came cycling up. They already had tickets and Franzi went into the kiosk. When it was our turn the lady gave us tickets and waved her hand. "No pay." Well, we could treat the lads to something for lunch for that.

There was the usual formal greeting between us and the lads but they were smiling and laughing as we stood waiting for the bus. They got on well with Jerzy who laughed and joked with them. We congratulated Yniold and Pyotor on their performances and thanked Franzi for the free ride and the continually filled up beer glasses the night before. They all said they'd seen my photo in the newspapers and Jerzy chuckled. We didn't mention the one a.m. ruckus as Franzi didn't say anything. Pyotor said he hadn't been to the Castle so there were three of us to be escorted and told the story of the prisoner. I half-remembered the story having read the book when I was about twelve revelling in the derring-do and the conspiracies, all now resolved with King Rudi on the Rothenian throne.

I did note as we got on the bus a slight coolness between Franzi and his father who was the driver. However, the six of us commandeered the back seats with each taking turns to look out of the side windows as the bus took the route to Zenden and then up to Zenda. It was so beautiful, the sun was shining and luckily the bus was air-conditioned. We went past meadows, fields of various crops, and as we rose we went through forests and woods all punctuated by small villages or more or less isolated farmsteads. We stopped for half an hour in Zenden and Tris bought us all ice creams and another fluffy toy for George Henry. This one a small black bear, 'just like the German' was his comment. There was a light-hearted competition for a name which Pyotor won by condensing 'Herr Bar' to 'Herbert'. I gave him a bar of chocolate for that which he immediately divided between all of us.

The castle was all one could wish for: like a confection of lace and ice rising from a dark lake; so romantic. More oppressive was the heavily classical royal palace next to it, with its history of murder and conspiracy. Dark, massive, oppressive and slightly unnerving. Both Jerzy and Yniold were mines of information so we refused the official guided tour as they knew exactly what was on offer. I think, in some ways, we were glad to emerge from the almost claustrophobic atmosphere of the palace. Luckily, there was a rather nice restaurant outside the gates of the chateau so we treated all to a Rothenian bratwurst and sauerkraut lunch and a glass of cool local beer. Franzi was a lot more relaxed and said he was glad his younger brother did not want to come as his father had said he should. Yniold and Pyotor kept looking at each other and did disappear off together on the pretense of finding a lav. "They love," was Franzi's comment. I thought 'Hurry up, Igor, and pass over the goods!'.

At one point Tris let slip we had a special appointment the next day as they wanted to know if we were going to the Spa again. They kept on questioning us and at last Tris said, "It's with the Cardinal". There was a concerted 'Wow' or equivalent in Rothenian. "At the Cathedral?" Yniold asked. Tris nodded and no more was said. I noted Jerzy just listened and made no comments.

The ride back was just as spectacular. We took another road after we had descended and passed through the forested area and again fields and farms and villages were spread out. All looked so calm and serene. We did note a few large houses but almost every village had a ruined building next to or near the church.

Franzi pointed at a dilapidated skeleton of a once fine house in one village. "My father say too many houses..." He made a flattening movement with both hands. "Communists!" He paused. "My uncle one but work on farm now. Big shot then. Even my father say he is shit now!"

Interesting. I know Mum had never really found out about Italy during the War only that her Father had been holed up in Palermo for the duration, and there was all the 'only acting under orders' excuses in Germany. So, not so long ago Rothenia was under Communist rule with people like Franzi's uncle and Mr X as 'big shots'. Looking at the peaceful scenery outside the bus made me wonder how fragile society could be. Jerzy did comment that it had been very difficult and many families had suffered like his own. Pyotor spoke up then and said he was sorry that things had happened but he and his family knew they were happier in Rothenia than they would be in Russia. "I would not like Russia. I like here. This my home!"

On arriving back in Strelzen both Tris and I made a point of thanking Franzi's father for the trip. Actually, he didn't seem too bad and as Yniold and Pyotor thanked him, too, he was smiling quite amiably and the smile remained as Franzi got off the bus. I hoped father and son would not be estranged. Franzi was a delightful lad and I got the feeling he was quite clever. We arranged to meet Jerzy and Tad for food and a drink later. "Good Rothenian beer, eh?"

The hotel was busy when we returned. Several of the Germans were milling around, looking rather sunburnt and watching as a couple of brawny workman were bringing in parts of a bed. A third brought in a large mattress and proceeded to get it stuck in the lift. Ignasz was supervising and getting more and more agitated. A head popped up over the Reception desk. It was Tomas. "I keep out of way." He sniggered and pointed to the new mattress. "That German woman make water in bed. Has broken arm and man has...." He pointed downwards. "I not know word. Bit come out on side."

"Rupture," said Tris.

Tomas nodded. "That it." He turned and took an envelope from a pigeon-hole. "For you, please."

Ignasz the owner came over to us. He was not happy. "I am sorry. Big disturbance. No more party here. They are going to pay extra for new bed." He did smile then and looked to see if anyone was looking. "Fat people!" He laughed. "That man take blue pill and try. You say in English 'needle in haystack', eh? Little needle, big haystack! His little needle still up my doctor friend says. He is seventy-seven and hard like young boy! Miracle! My friend has photos for teaching students. I think I ask for big photo for over there!" He pointed to a blank space by the brochure rack.

We left on that sweet note and went up to our room. A quiet evening, a meal, some beer, make sure shoes are cleaned, see that shirts are presentable and, as the letter from Mr Marriott instructed, 'please be at the Legation at two o'clock'. Our meeting with the Cardinal was to be at three o'clock in the Archiepiscopal Palace by the Cathedral. Nowt to worry about!

To be continued: