Chapter 18

Eighteen

"There is every possibility that Herr Wagner's proposal to the others who will be participating may very well send someone to take care of the ‘matter' before the auction takes place," Brodie continued as we went to the hotel front desk.

He was handed a message.

By that I assumed he meant that we might expect a ‘visitor in the night.' To eliminate the competition.

"What is it?" I asked at the change of expression on his face that I had seen countless times. It was his ‘police inspector' expression which might have meant anything.

He thanked the desk manager, then took my arm.

"There is a man waiting for us in the hotel café."

There had hardly been enough time for Herr Wagner to contact his client in the matter we had discussed, and it did seem unlikely that if he had someone sent to eliminate the competition, as it were, he would hardly select a hotel coffee shop to do the deed.

"Until we know what this is about yer to wait here," Brodie told me just inside the entrance to the café.

I agreed as I looked around for who the man might be who had left that note at the hotel front desk.

There were several couples seated at tables with their morning coffee and breakfast, a single gentleman who was dressed quite formally in a coat and trousers, and another man, somewhat young, seated by himself who wore the usual clothes of someone who had traveled a distance with a short coat, trousers, and cap, and a worn satchel on the floor.

As Brodie crossed the floor, the man stood and greetings were exchanged. He was almost as tall as Brodie, but quite robust with wide shoulders beneath the coat, a butcher by profession, Schmidt had told us. Brodie turned and motioned for me to join them.

"This is Karl Schneider," he made the introduction.

The man appeared to be no more than twenty-five or thirty years old with pleasant features, brown hair and brown eyes. He nodded, greeting us in heavily accented English with a broad smile.

"I am here," he announced, which was somewhat amusing. "I am most pleased to meet you. My sister sent a telegram. You will take me to England, after some business that brought you here. Ja ?"

Brodie nodded. "Aye, if you can help us with a certain matter."

Schneider nodded. "I will help in any way, Herr Brodie, if it means that I can go to your country."

I knew precisely what Brodie was doing...not precisely, but with a fairly good idea as we returned to our suite with Karl Schneider. Quid pro quo.

If Herr Schneider would help us, we would help him leave Frankfurt. If we survived.

Over the next few hours, Brodie explained as much as he could. At the same time, I watched as he exchanged comments with Schneider, putting him at ease at the same time drawing on his expertise from working with the MET, encountering all sorts in his investigations there, and from the streets.

"People are no different one place to another," he had once explained the difference between those he knew in Edinburgh and London, and those we had encountered in Paris in a previous inquiry case.

"The same purpose drives most people—a roof over the head, food in the stomach, a safe place, survival in places that are not safe. It is like the hound," he had provided an example.

"He does what he needs to survive on the streets, aside from the food ye give him. Ye have seen the disgusting things he returns with from time to time. He prefers the alcove at the office when the weather sets in and will defend it to the death. It is much the same with a good many men and women.

"And I have found there is often more honesty with the criminal sort than others. At least ye know exactly what they are about."

While it seemed most likely that Karl Schneider was not the criminal sort, considering the ease with which they spoke now, and the fact that Brodie had brought him to our room, it was also very obvious that the man was determined to do whatever was necessary to make certain he was able to go to his family in London.

"Herr Schmidt spoke of some things that prevented ye from traveling there before now," Brodie commented. "I would know what those things are if we are to assist ye."

Schneider hesitated. "You are with the London Police?"

"Not for some time," Brodie assured him. "I handle private inquiry cases now, the reason we were sent, so as not to involve the German authorities."

"You work together?" Schneider asked.

"Lady Forsythe is my partner, and that is all you need to know."

Our guest looked over at me. "My sister's husband spoke of this in his earlier telegram. You are familiar with the sword, ja ?"

I nodded. It seemed that Herr Schmidt had shared a great deal with his wife's brother.

Schneider grinned. "I am good with the blade as well in my work." He opened the satchel and retrieved a rather nasty-looking knife.

"I have my tools so that I can find work in London. And this. I keep it very sharp. It is good to be able to protect oneself."

Very much so, I thought.

I did like him, however deferred to Brodie with his greater experience in such matters. It seemed that he had made a decision.

"Ye will do," Brodie told him. "Now, for what lies ahead if all goes accordin' to plan. So that we may all leave."

Brodie explained that we were waiting to hear about a ‘transaction' that was to take place by way of an auction. He then inquired what Schneider knew about Szábo.

"If the rumors are true, he is most dangerous ," the one word he used to describe him, then explained. "He is Hungarian, not German." He almost spat out the words.

"Not a man to be trusted. He has killed many, but the bodies are never found. They disappear, even rumors of the Polizeidirektor here. They look the other way when it is to their advantage. And there are other stories about things he has done in France, and England. Always for money, a great deal of money." He looked from me to Brodie.

"Is he to be part of the auction?"

"He is responsible for the item that is to be auctioned to the highest bidder."

Schneider looked at me. "This is very dangerous for a woman."

"She will be participating in the auction, if we receive word that the others are acceptable to the idea," Brodie explained.

"Ah!" Schneider exclaimed and laid the knife down on the table. "She will need protection." He looked at Brodie.

"You should not stay here. If one man knows you are here, others will know."

It was obvious that Brodie had thought of that.

"Ye know of a place?"

Schneider nodded. "It is not far, where I have made deliveries in the district." There was a look over at me.

"It is not as fine as the hotel, but it is clean and safe. You can get your messages here while we plan what is to be done."

It seemed that we had taken on a partner, or at least an associate who was quite willing to do whatever was necessary to guarantee his passage to England.

Schneider waited just outside the hotel entrance while we packed our few pieces of clothing.

As for the room, Brodie told me to leave it as it was. Our breakfast service had been collected with fresh linens and soaps provided in the adjoining bathroom.

The reservation had been left open as we had no way of knowing how long we might need to remain in Frankfurt. As far as anyone else might be concerned, we were still there or soon to return.

On our way to meet with Herr Schneider, Brodie stopped at the front desk and informed the clerk that we did not wish to be disturbed in our room, and that he would be returning to the desk from time to time to inquire about any messages.

With that we left the hotel.

The ‘ residenschloss' where Schneider made his weekly deliveries was in the same district, however, off the main city center from the hotel, where those not of the means to stay in the hotel could still afford to stay in the city.

It was a two-story former private residence of some city official in the medieval period, with an arched entrance and a round corner tower above the second story. Over the entrance were a pair of carved plaster lions supporting a crown.

"These are good people," Schneider assured us as the driver departed.

We were greeted inside the residence by a stout woman with her hair tucked under a scarf, bright color on her cheeks, and a bucket and mop in her hands.

She smiled broadly as she greeted Karl.

"My friends," he explained. "We need two rooms."

She nodded and there was a brief conversation in German, then a smile as she rounded a narrow counter that looked as if it might be as old as the residence, and produced two room keys.

"I have known her and her husband for several years. She will say nothing if anyone should ask," Karl assured us as we climbed the narrow stone steps to the second floor.

The two rooms were across from each other in the old house.

The walls were stone with an arched window that looked out on the street below. Wide dark timbers made up the floor. The furnishings were of dark wood as well, a simple table and chairs.

The bed against the wall was quite high, made of that same dark timber with thick bedding, and I did wonder who might have slept in it.

"He did say that she kept a verra clean house," Brodie reminded me.

That was some reassurance that there wouldn't be more than the two of us in that bed.

The waiting for some word from Herr Wagner, that I would be allowed to participate in the auction of the documents, seemed interminable.

As I waited in the common room downstairs, Frau Meier, the proprietress of the house, inquired if I had any laundry that needed washing. I provided her a shirt and socks of Brodie's, along with a shirtwaist of mine.

In broken English, she inquired if I had any additional clothing items with something that sounded very much like ‘underthings.'

I assured her that I would wash them myself. She retreated with Brodie's socks and the shirts, and a definite sniff as if she was insulted.

I had only my shift and my slip which was much the worse for wear after using a portion of it to bandage poor Alex.

As for other ‘underthings,' I rarely wore pantaloons as they were far too bulky and cumbersome. Brodie seemed to appreciate it.

" Has anyone ever told ye that ye are a wanton wench ."

"Only yourself," I had replied . "No one else would ever be the wiser, as I do not have a maid, and I most certainly do not lift my skirts for just anyone."

That had promptly ended the conversation in a most interesting way as we were in my great-aunt's private coach at the time.

Now we waited, and continued to wait.

Herr Schneider was most entertaining with stories that I only half understood. It did seem that he had led a most interesting life with an assortment of ‘professions,' some which brought him into disagreement with the authorities.

He had taken the advice of his sister, or possibly by threat, that he needed to mend his ways if he hoped to be allowed to join them in England. That led to his training with a local butcher in his district who had known the family.

He made a decent living and there was the promise of taking over the business when the owner could no longer work. However, as he pointed out, that might be another twenty years. And there was always the threat of the authorities that hung over his head.

I didn't inquire what the crimes were. It was possibly best not to know.

Brodie went back to the Hotel Frankfurt midafternoon to inquire about messages, however, there was no word from Herr Wagner. As the hours passed, it did seem as if our scheme might not have been acceptable to the other parties who were to participate in the auction.

"Any word?" I inquired when he returned once more from the hotel very near nine o'clock in the evening. Yet, I could tell the answer by the expression on his face.

"It is possible that we may be forced to return to London empty-handed."

We were alone in our room after a simple late meal of sausage and potatoes.

"If we are not successful in gaining entrance to the auction, it will go on as planned with the documents sold to the highest bidder and they will disappear."

To be used for heaven knew what purpose.

Sir Avery had explained the possible consequences in one of our last meetings before leaving London. Those documents had the potential to advance the possibility of a war with devastating consequences.

"Go to bed," Brodie eventually told me when it was very near midnight. "There is nothing more to be done tonight. I will be in the common room below with Herr Schneider. There are things to discuss."

I could only imagine what those might be, considering the danger we could be facing.

"Do you trust him?"

"We are forced to, if this plan comes together."

I washed in the guest's bathroom in the hall after he left, then returned to our room. There was no need of a fire on the stone hearth as it was not cold. I slept little, waking from time to time as one does in strange places to discover that Brodie had not yet returned.

It was quite late when I heard the door open. I had discovered the electric in the room earlier, but he didn't turn it on. Instead, he undressed in the dark, then climbed the small step up into the bed.

"Bloody hell!" I heard the exclamation as he eventually found me and pulled me against him as was his way, as if he thought I might slip away again. Not that I minded. It was most pleasant. Now particularly, so far from London.

"One could break their neck getting out of bed in a rush. And we're sinking into the damned thing."

"It's a down mattress, quite thick actually. I believe the idea is that you are not supposed to leave the bed until morning," I replied.

"Or ever," he replied. "It's a wonder yer ancestor lived through conquering Britain if the beds were like this."

"I'm told that he eventually returned to France. Perhaps the beds were larger and firmer there." Although, by our experience, they were much the same unless one was sleeping on the floor.

It hardly mattered. With everything that had been set in motion, we were both restless and unable to sleep. He eventually climbed out of the bed, and I listened drowsily as he rummaged around a bit. A match flared as he lit his pipe, and in the glow of that brief flame I glimpsed that dark gaze and those handsome, intense features.

Then he put the match out and there was only the faint glow as he sat on that chair before the darkened hearth and drew on the pipe, that fragrance floating in the still air inside the room.

I climbed out of the bed and crossed to him. His hand found mine in the darkness and he pulled me down on his lap. I laid my head on his shoulder, my hand on his chest.

We sat there for the longest time, his body warm against mine as the room chilled.

"Tomorrow…" he started to speak, barely more than a whisper.

I pressed my fingers against his lips. I knew what he was going to say, that it would be dangerous at best, perhaps even that he didn't want me part of it.

"Tomorrow is soon enough," I whispered, then bent his head toward me, finding him as I pressed my mouth against his, my fingers stroking through his beard.

He set the pipe aside, then stood, taking me back to the bed with him.

It was well after eight o'clock when we rose the next morning. Brodie dressed, then left to return to the hotel for any messages that might have come in since the last time he was there, while I shared breakfast with Karl in the common room.

When he returned, I knew immediately that he'd received a message. He handed it to me. It was from Herr Wagner.

He was finally able to meet late the night before with his client, who had reluctantly agreed for me to participate in the auction. It seemed that greed was great motivation.

Herr Wagner asked to meet with both of us as soon as possible as the ‘event,' as he called it, was to begin at eight o'clock that evening at a private location that would only be disclosed just prior to beginning.

Before that could take place, a deposit of ten thousand in francs, marks, or English pounds was to be made with the director of the local auction house who had been retained to conduct the private auction.

"I sent a telegram to London last night," Brodie told me. "I explained what has happened and about the auction."

There was only one person he would have contacted. Sir Avery.

"There is no word as of this morning," he added.

I heard the unspoken in his voice, that we might not hear from him in time.

"Ye understand?"

"Then there is nothing else for us to do but continue as planned and then return to London."

I knew what he was thinking— if we returned to London.

"I never wanted this for ye."

"I know that, however here we are."

"This is not one of yer lady adventures to Egypt, or Hong Kong, or Budapest."

"It's not?" I replied. "I've always wanted to play some high-stakes game or bid at an auction for a priceless relic."

He glared at me. "I should tie ye up and ship ye back."

"Except for one thing, Mr. Brodie," I reminded him as I straightened his tie. "I'm the one they have approved to participate in the auction. And it is the only chance we have to obtain those documents."

He was not pleased, but he agreed. "Aye."

He slipped his arms around me and pulled me against him. "I thought I'd lost ye when ye left." He angled his head back so that I was forced to meet that dark gaze.

"I willna lose ye now, lass. Ye should know that I will do whatever is necessary to protect ye."

I knew what he was capable of. I had seen it in the past, and I shivered slightly. It was a promise, and he would kill to keep it.

I did hope it wouldn't come to that, yet I was not na?ve. We were dealing with some very dangerous people who would also kill, and already had, for what they wanted. I needed to figure out how I was going to prevent him being killed.

Herr Wagner made arrangements for us to meet with the president of Deutsche Bank in Frankfurt.

There, I was able to arrange for funds to be transferred from my bank to the account of the auctioneer who was to oversee the evening's event, with the guarantee of full payment for the item being auctioned, when that was determined.

It was possible that I might be left penniless when it was all over.

"Do we know where the auction is to be held?" I asked as we left the bank with everything in place for the transfer of ten thousand pounds.

"Herr Wagner will let us know an hour before the time."

"Then it must be within the city," I concluded.

"My thought as well. That's the reason that I've given Karl the task of purchasing three tickets on the late train leaving Frankfurt tonight."

It did seem that he was planning for all of us to survive the evening.

We returned to the residenschloss where we had spent the previous night. I did, after all, know Angus Brodie quite well.

"He could simply use those tickets and leave," I pointed out.

"Except for one thing. He needs our assistance legally to be able to enter England. Otherwise, he will find himself back here. Or worse."

Karl had already returned when we arrived. He handed the rail vouchers to Brodie who put them in a pocket inside his jacket.

We then spent the rest of the afternoon waiting to learn the location of the auction and planning, as best we could, the role each of us was to play in this very dangerous scheme.