The Ludwig Conspiracy(38)
They drove in silence along the expressway as it led, like an endless gray ribbon, past woods and meadows. To their left, the little river Loisach wound its way through a hilly green landscape, dotted with stables, hamlets, and barns; they were a good deal closer to the Alps now.
“I’ve been thinking about the amulet that man, Bernd Reiser, was wearing,” Sara suddenly announced. “I’ve an idea the swan acts as a kind of signal to those who wear it. As a symbol of recognition, showing that they’re loyal to the king.”
“Did you ever hear of Cowled Men wearing an amulet like it?” Steven asked. The warm October sun dazzled him, and he narrowed his eyes. He had a bad headache. Clearly he hadn’t had enough sleep, and that encounter with the police had been the last straw.
Sara shook her head. “Not that I know of. But that doesn’t necessarily mean anything. There are any number of other nut cases besides the Cowled Men. Societies whose members have sworn eternal loyalty to the king and meet on the anniversary of his death at his memorial cross in Berg. Quite a few of them wish the monarchy were back, and they go about in historical costumes. But I don’t think that makes them capable of murder.” She smiled. “Or anyway, not unless parliament voted for a massive rise in the price of beer.”
Steven sighed. “I love Bavaria. If the country didn’t exist, we Yanks would have to invent it.”
They had left the autobahn and were driving along a steep, winding road over a pass, with spruce woods and gray rocks by the roadside. After several hairpin turns, they finally reached a long, high plain in the Ammergau Alps, framed by a wild, mountainous landscape. Among the meadows, the old Benedictine monastery of Ettal Abbey shone radiantly white. Its sturdy structure reminded Steven of a Romanesque castle. Turning into a valley, they followed the course of a small river past stands of fir trees and freshly mown wildflower meadows where cows and horses grazed. Soon, they came to a large parking lot where a number of cars and buses were already standing.
“Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Linderhof!” Sara announced, driving into one of the many free parking spots. She looked around in surprise. “Not so much activity here today,” she said. “I suppose the season will be over soon.”
“Or they have some major event going on. Look.”
Steven pointed to four dark blue Audis, in front of which stood several men and women in business suits. A few shouted into their cell phones. Beyond the group, a steward in uniform was closing off part of the parking lot.
“Looks like a state reception,” Sara said, getting out. “Come on, let’s see what’s going on.”
Together, they climbed the steps to the souvenir shop and ticket office, where a group of colorfully clad tourists was already assembled. Steven heard a murmured babble of Japanese, Russian, and American voices. He tentatively glanced at the pane of a display window, which reflected his distorted image in the ridiculous clothes. What he saw made him shudder.
At least I won’t look conspicuous here.
“You’re in luck,” said the woman at the ticket desk, smiling and giving them two tickets to see around the castle. “This is the last day of the season. Unfortunately, the Grotto of Venus and the Moorish kiosk are both closed to the public today. Honestly, you wouldn’t have time to see it all, anyway. We’re closing a little earlier than usual today. In exactly . . .” She looked at her watch. “In exactly two hours.”
Steven almost dropped the ticket he was holding.
Only two hours! he thought in a panic. Oh, great! And we have no idea what we’re even looking for except that it’s connected with LOVE.
“Is that by any chance something to do with the well-dressed ladies and gentlemen out there?” he asked quietly, pointing to the parking lot behind them.
The woman at the ticket desk raised one eyebrow and then looked cautiously around.
“VIPs,” she whispered. “Manstein has rented the upper part of the park for a party tomorrow.”
“Er, Manstein? I’m afraid I don’t know . . .”
“Manstein Systems, I assume,” Sara said. “One of Europe’s leading IT companies. Profits in the billions. It gets its microchips built by the Chinese so that it can fire workers over here. Bavaria must really be in some deep financial straits if it’s renting out its castle grounds to unscrupulous industrial magnates.”
The smile disappeared from the face of the girl selling tickets. “As I said, the park will be closed tomorrow, so as far as tourists are concerned, there’s no . . .”
“Okay, fine.” Sara turned to the exit. “All the same,” she added over her shoulder, “the king would be turning in his grave.”