For some time no one said anything. In the midst of the silence, Hermann Kaulbach suddenly took his wet hat from the fireside and turned to the door.
“What are you going to do, for God’s sake?” asked Dr. Loewenfeld in surprise.
“I am at least going to pay the king my last respects,” he said firmly. “And if you gentlemen have a spark of good feeling in you, you’ll do the same.”
Kaulbach disappeared into the rain outside, and after a little while the rest of us followed him. Only the baron still sat by the fire in a melancholy mood, watching the fire slowly burn down. His face was hard and gray as rock.
IT WAS JUST after midnight when we finally returned to Berg. Bright lights blazed everywhere in the castle and the park; people were running around in agitation, many of them weeping or embracing; gendarmes hurried through the wood like restless spirits. The bodies of Ludwig and Dr. Gudden had been found only about an hour before. They had drifted north from the original scene of the crime. We suspected that the dead Carl von Strelitz had already been taken away by police officers who knew his intentions.
In the general turmoil, it was easy for us to gain access to the castle. After all, Dr. Loewenfeld had been the king’s personal physician, although he had seen less and less of him in recent years. It was Dr. Loewenfeld, too, who made it possible for us to pay our condolences to the body of the dead king.
Contrary to our expectations, His Excellency had not yet been taken to Berg Castle but was lying in the boathouse with Dr. Gudden. They had been covered up to the throat with cloths, but in the general atmosphere of haste, no one had thought of washing Ludwig’s face. His mouth was open as if in a silent scream, and a thin line of dried blood stuck to his cheek.
“Do you see all that blood on the floor?” Dr. Loewenfeld whispered to me. “I’d assume that came from your Prussian agent before he was spirited away from here in secret. Either from him or from Ludwig himself. In any event, they’ll have to clean this boathouse thoroughly to get rid of all the traces.”
The four of us took off our hats and stood in silence before our king, whom we had wanted to save, and who was now taken from us forever. I felt the sense of something ending. The fairy tales disappeared with Ludwig, as did the last spirit of an epoch that had once teemed with fabulous creatures, strong warriors, elves and dwarves. They would be succeeded by pragmatists, by bureaucrats.
All at once I heard a faint rustling, and I saw Hermann Kaulbach bring out a sketchpad, damp from the rain, from under his coat. With quick movements, he captured the image of the dead king on paper. He also did little portrait sketches of Richard Hornig and Dr. Schleiss von Loewenfeld.
“Even if they fake everything else, there will be a record of this moment,” said Kaulbach quietly. He looked at the door of the boathouse, which was only half closed. The gendarme on duty had just gone out for a cigarette.
“Let us promise not to forget all this. We owe His Majesty that.”
We nodded gravely and murmured our promise.
Only a moment later, a thought flashed through my mind. Kaulbach’s words had reminded me of something. I, too, owed a duty to Ludwig.
The king’s letter!
Hadn’t Ludwig himself called it the most important missive he had ever written? I had promised to deliver it to some person unknown at Linderhof. And in all the turmoil, I had forgotten about it.
I felt for my left-hand vest pocket, finding the letter, and the note bearing the name of its recipient. Who might that recipient be? Who could be important enough to receive the last letter of Ludwig’s life?
I had been told not to discover the recipient until I reached Linderhof. But time was short. And maybe it was too late anyway, now that the king was dead. So I took out the little note, unfolded it, and read the name.
At that moment, I understood.
35
“HEY, WE WERE RIGHT! We really were right!”
Sara’s voice brought Steven out of his thoughts. He was so absorbed in reading the book that her words came through to him muted.
“What . . . what do you mean?”
Sara pointed to the monitor of her laptop. “The lines of poetry and the roman numerals. They really do spell out a sentence. See for yourself.”
Ballad Line Word Solution
Erl-King XVI I In
Belshazzar V IV the
Women of Winsperg XVI IV king’s
Count of Thal CXIII II fourth
Enchantress in the Forest LXXXXIII V castle
Ring of Polycrates XV I a
Song of Siegerich LXXXXVIII IV scion
The Singer’s Curse LIX V shows
Lorelei VII I the
The Angler XXVII IV dearest
The Diver LXI IV of
Legend XXX IV his
Ballad XII II treasures
Steven looked at her and at the screen, on which a greenish table was shimmering.