The Devil's Opera(160)
The fact that the Fraulein had such wealth also elevated her in Frau Fickler’s eyes. She pondered that wealth for a moment, then stirred.
“Margarethe, go bring your father here.”
* * *
Simon was starting to get worried. He’d been almost every place he could think of looking for Hans, and there was no sign of him.
He had to be here somewhere.
Had to be.
* * *
Gotthilf turned around when he heard the report. “Two more?” he asked.
“Yep,” Byron replied as he scanned the patrolman’s notes.
“Metzger?”
“Definitely,” Byron said. “According to Veit, the owner and barman of the Chain, that is.”
“Let me guess: self-defense.”
Byron pointed a finger at him. “You got it. According to Veit, they attacked Metzger first without a warning or an argument or anything.”
Gotthilf nodded. “So if he’s chosen to be bait, it sounds like he’s doing a good job of it.”
“Yep. Score: Bait, five; Hunters, zero.”
“Of course,” Gotthilf finished, “the Hunters only need to score once to win.”
“Point,” Byron said with a wry twist to his mouth. “So let’s go see if we can find the bait ourselves before that happens.”
“And we’d best send word to Schardius and his men that it might be prudent to stay out of sight,” Gotthilf observed.
“Point,” Byron said after a moment. “Send Peltzer to pass them the word.”
Chapter 61
Demetrious the seeker, as he thought of himself, faded back against the city wall buttress. From there he could see the front of the new opera hall. He could also see where the one-eyed man was standing near the front of the Royal Academy of Music.
The one-eyed man was watching the opera hall, which meant he had to be watching someone in the opera hall. That was something Lieutenant Chieske would like to know. But the lieutenant would be even more pleased to know just who it was that the one-eyed man was watching.
Demetrious settled in for a wait.
* * *
Margarethe returned to the eating room in just a few moments, followed by her father.
Herr Hoch was a solid bulk of a man. He gave an impression of being almost square from shoulders to waist. That, combined with dark hair containing only wings of silver at the temple and a dark spade-shaped beard, made him a man that everyone took seriously, even at first acquaintance.
Ursula sat up straight, pressing herself against the back of her chair. Herr Hoch smiled at her, but spoke to his wife.
“Yes, my dear?”
Frau Fickler waved her hand at the contents of the table top. “Johann, before you is the wealth of our young guest, Fraulein Metzger.”
His eyes passed over the stacks of bills and coins. He didn’t say anything at first, but his eyes did widen just a bit. After a moment of consideration, he gave a nod—almost a bow—of respect to Ursula, who found herself nodding back.
Herr Hoch returned his gaze to his wife.
“I am certain you would not call me from my own accounts just to impress me with Fraulein Metzger’s worth. Is there some other reason I am here?”
His smile lightened what could otherwise have been a very snide remark.
Frau Fickler returned his smile, and said, “Our young guest cannot carry all this around with her all the time. Nor would it be safe for her to just leave it in the room we have given to her. Would you be willing to stand as fiduciary to her and take her wealth into your custody? At least, until she understands better what choices she can make?”
“Ah.”
Herr Hoch’s eyes now turned to Ursula again.
“Is that agreeable with you, Fraulein Metzger?”
“Please, what is fid…fidu…”
“Fiduciary?”
“Yes. What does that mean?” Ursula asked, hoping she didn’t sound as nervous and panic-stricken as she felt.
“It means that I would take your money into my charge with the responsibility of preserving and protecting it for you. I would not invest it or spend it without your approval.”
Ursula considered that. It would be a comfort to her to know that all that money was being properly taken care of. On the other hand, could she trust Herr Hoch? All she really knew about him was that he was Sergeant Hoch’s father.
As if he could read her mind, Herr Hoch smiled. “We will write up a simple contract where I shall be fiduciary for, let us say, three months. I shall do nothing to or with your money without your approval. And at the end of three months, I will return the money to you, or you can decide to have me continue as fiduciary, or have someone else assume that role.”
Ursula considered some more. She could see Margarethe nodding vigorously from where she stood behind her parents. That affirmation, and what she knew about Sergeant Hoch, finally convinced her.