Chapter 24

T he Hotel Bauer-Grünwald was on the Grand Canal, not far from where they had disembarked to visit the Basilica days before. It was another glorious, neo-gothic, grand Venice building. A red awning with the hotel name picked out in gold lettering distinguished it from the neighbouring palazzos. A very smart doorman kept watch over who could enter the hotel. Luckily Melody's elegant olive-green jacket and matching skirt and Rat's smart suit made a sufficiently good impression for the doorman to smile in welcome and open the door.

Inside, the hotel was all opulence; the red and gold theme was repeated in the carpet and window shades. In truth, Melody thought the whole thing was a little overdone and might have benefited from a more restrained design hand, but there could be no doubt that this was a place of luxury and exclusivity.

"I wonder if they will be prepared to let Herr Peetz know that we are here," Melody whispered.

Rat considered the question. He had heard Wolf speak many times about the usefulness of a title and how, when necessary, he would take on the persona of his imperious grandfather, the late earl, to gain cooperation from people he believed would be cowed by aristocratic grandeur. It was not something Wolf enjoyed doing, but its efficacy was beyond doubt.

Indicating that Melody should follow his lead, Rat approached the front desk, threw back his shoulders, and did his best impersonation of Wolf impersonating his grandfather.

The man behind the desk was small and sallow skinned. His jet-black hair appeared artificially dark and was slicked back with far too much pomade. Tomasso Rinaldi was, in fact, the assistant manager of the hotel. He had only recently risen to that position and adored lording his new status over the rest of the staff. Signor Rinaldi took great pride in his ability to identify and fawn over those of high birth. He was particularly obsequious towards the British upper classes, believing that they exhibited better breeding than the Italian nobility. Rat could not have found a more willing player in his charade.

It had been many years since Rat had successfully erased any evidence of his East End origins from his speech. Nevertheless, he now made a conscious effort to round his vowels and clearly enunciate every word. "My good man, I am the Earl of Langley and need your assistance." Rat had chosen to borrow Lord Langley's identity, sure that his mentor would agree that the deception was warranted given the circumstances.

While the young man in front of him didn't look quite grand enough to be an earl, Tomasso Rinaldi knew enough about the eccentricity exhibited by so many of Britain's aristocracy and quickly arranged his features to display maximum deference. "Certainly, your lordship. You have come to the right person. Tomasso Rinaldi is known for his ability to provide whatever assistance our guests might desire."

It took Rat a moment to realise that the assistant manager was referring to himself in the third person. "I am not a guest of this establishment, but rather wish to inquire of one."

Under normal circumstances, Tomasso Rinaldi considered himself the soul of discretion when it came to the comings and goings of the hotel's guests. One didn't rise to the level of assistant manager without recognising the value of subtlety, diplomacy, and tact when speaking to and of the good and great who passed through the doors of the Hotel Bauer-Grünwald. However, he balanced these well-honed skills with an unctuous willingness to do whatever was necessary to ingratiate himself within the highest echelons of both Venice's permanent and temporary high society. In plain speech, he was willing to toady to whomsoever he felt better placed in any given circumstance.

"I would be most happy to provide whatever information I can," Tomasso said, making the split-second decision that an earl likely outranked most of their current hotel guests.

"I believe that you have a Herr Dieter Peetz staying here."

Tomasso breathed a sigh of relief; there was no need for him to feel any inner conflict at this request. Without a doubt, not only did an earl's needs trump Dieter Peetz's right to privacy, but Rinaldi had a particular disdain for Austrians. "We do indeed," he replied.

"Do you know if he is currently within the hotel?" Rat asked.

"Certainly. I believe that I saw him go through to our dining room earlier." As he said this, the assistant manager pointed ahead to a fine-looking oak door with "Dining Room" etched out in large, gold lettering on it.

They went through the door and found the large, elegant dining room mostly empty except for the man they were looking for, seated at a table in the corner of the room. His snow-white halo of hair made him easy to spot immediately. It seemed he was finishing up his meal with a cup of coffee and a slice of tart.

Herr Peetz was reading a book as he ate and didn't notice Melody and Rat approach his table. Finally, when they were almost upon him, Rat cleared his throat, and the old man looked up.

Taking his reading glasses off, he peered at them, seemingly confused at first, then with recognition. "What a surprise seeing you here, Mr Sandworth, isn't it? And your charming sister, Miss Chesterton. I thought that you were staying with Lady Bainbridge. Have you moved to this hotel?"

"May we join you, Herr Peetz?" Melody asked.

"Ja. Please do. Though you will have to pull up an extra chair."

Rat took a chair from the neighbouring table, and he and Melody sat down.

"We are here looking for you," Rat said.

"Me? I am honoured, but why?" the Austrian asked after putting down his fork and pushing his plate away from him .

Rat and Melody exchanged glances; they hadn't talked about how to handle this conversation. Rat gave the slightest of nods to indicate that his sister should take the lead. He had recently come to realise that Melody did a good job, whether consciously or not, of using men's preconceptions about a pretty young girl to her advantage during interviews. Men underestimated her; they didn't expect blunt, insightful questions from Melody, which took them aback, making their first reactions far less guarded and more telling.

While they had not discussed how to approach Herr Peetz, Melody had considered the question during the gondola ride and had made some deductions. Now, she said in a very sweet, innocent voice that utterly belied the words she was uttering, "Herr Peetz, we know that you are involved, somehow, in smuggling classified documents out of Austria for publication in Italy, as well as in your own newspapers. We believe that you are doing this to sway public opinion away from the Triple Alliance. What we do not yet know is how you are involved in Antonio Graziano's murder."

To say that Dieter Peetz looked shocked at Melody's words would not do justice to the look of horror and fear on the man's face. Speaking in a voice so low that Melody and Rat had to strain to hear his words, Herr Peetz said, "Nein! Nein! You do not understand. We cannot talk here. Come to my room, 107. I will leave now, and you will follow me in fifteen minutes. No sooner. Do you understand? I will explain everything then."

With that, the man rose from his chair and scurried out of the dining room. It had all happened so quickly that neither Melody nor Rat had thought to prevent the man from leaving. Now, they sat at the table, looking at each other with uncertainty.

"Perhaps we should not have let him go," Rat suggested.

"He seemed very nervous. It is possible that he believes he is being watched. After all, two men involved in this scheme have been murdered."

Melody's words distracted Rat from his concerns about Herr Peetz. "What scheme do you think this is?" he asked. "You seem to have pieced something together, or at least you may have."

"I do not want to say too much here. As you said, there may be a reason that Herr Peetz was unwilling to speak in public even though there seems to be almost no one else around. However, I do share your concern about trusting him. I do not think we should wait the full fifteen minutes that he suggested."

Neither of them was sure what to do; Melody's accusation had shaken the old man, that was clear. But why? To barge into his room now would demonstrate a lack of trust, and they wanted Herr Peetz to trust them with the truth. However, did they trust him? Certainly, they had no real reason to. Merely looking like a slightly doddering, sweet old gentleman did not seem sufficient cause for credibility.

Finally, when a very long, uncomfortable five minutes had passed, Rat stood and announced, "I see no reason why the man needs a quarter of an hour to prepare to tell us the truth. If he believes he is being watched, then we have already been seen together. If he is not, then what matter is a few minutes here or there?"

Rat was right, or he was probably right, Melody thought. She followed him back out to the hotel lobby, where Tomasso Rinaldi was still manning the desk. Rat assumed that room 107 was on the ground floor, but the hotel was large enough that it was not obvious where they should go to find it.

Tomasso saw the young English couple coming towards him and straightened up, prepared to serve the aristocrat further. Let it not be said of Tomasso Rinaldi that anything was too much trouble for hotel guests – well, the right kind of guests, at least.

"Your lordship, is there something more Tomasso Rinaldi can help you with?" the man said with an oily smile, again confusing Rat with his use of the third person to refer to himself.

"We are to meet Herr Peetz in his room, 107, and need directions," Rat explained.

If Tomasso had been mildly interested initially as to what the young English earl wanted with the absent-minded Austrian, that now became intense curiosity. He had watched the couple enter the dining room and then, not many minutes later, Herr Peetz had left it in a hurry, leaving the other two behind. Now, they were here asking the way to the man's room. And that was to say nothing of the man who had been so enigmatic when leaving an envelope for Herr Peetz earlier. What on earth was going on?

Tomasso's mother had raised him with various oft-repeated principles, one of which was: don't question the actions of your betters. This philosophy had served the assistant manager well in his life and career and had likely contributed to his recent professional advancement. Whatever he might think about the eccentric, sometimes even outlandish requests and behaviour of the hotel guests, Tomasso was always as helpful, some might say sycophantic, as he felt necessary.

Tightly controlling his features and his tone so that there could be no perception that he was in any way questioning the other man's actions, Tomasso said smoothly, "If you go down this hallway to the right, just past the stairs, you will find the gentleman's room."

Rat nodded his thanks, and he and Melody followed the instructions. Rat rapped on the door, but there was no answer. He knocked again and called out, but nothing.

"How can he not be in there?" Melody said. "Surely, if he had left the hotel, that man at the front desk would have said so."

"Perhaps he slipped out while Mr Rinaldi's back was turned or when he was helping another guest."

Making their way back to the lobby, they mentioned this possibility to Tomasso, who informed them that he had not left the desk, even for a moment, since they had entered the dining room. Only one person had wandered into the hotel, apparently lost. He had approached the desk and asked a question. Even so, Tomasso was certain that he would have noticed if Herr Peetz had left the hotel during this brief conversation.

Was it possible that the old man had taken ill suddenly on returning to his room? Melody wondered aloud.

"I assume that you have a master key for all the rooms," Rat said to the assistant manager.

"Indeed. If you believe that Signor Peetz might be in some kind of trouble, Tomasso would be happy to enter the room and check on him." The assistant manager did not doubt that the protocols in place for entering guests' rooms without permission fully covered being asked to do so by an earl.

Coming out from behind the desk, Tomasso indicated that Melody and Rat should follow him as he made his way to room 107. Knocking and calling out for Herr Peetz and receiving no reply, Tomasso used his master key to open the door. Standing behind the assistant manager, Rat and Melody peered into the room. It wasn't large and seemed to have no private bathroom. Given this, it was immediately apparent that the room was empty. Nevertheless, the assistant manager moved into the room and started checking every nook and cranny as if he believed that the Austrian was hiding under the bed or in the wardrobe.

Looking around the room and noticing some drawers that were pulled out and an open window, Melody whispered to Rat, "He's gone."

Her brother nodded his agreement. Moving over to the window, he realised that a chair had been pulled up next to it, which explained how an elderly man had managed to get up onto the windowsill. Looking out of the window, Rat realised that it wasn't a long drop down to the calle behind the hotel.

Tomasso saw Rat inspecting the window. While no written hotel rule stated explicitly that hotel guests should exit their rooms through the door, there was one that said that they needed to deposit their room key with the front desk whenever they left the hotel. If Dieter Peetz had jumped out of the window with his key in his pocket, then there had been a transgression, however minor. Certainly, the Hotel Bauer-Grünwald did not want to gain a reputation as the kind of establishment where its guests felt the need to escape out of windows on a regular basis.

Sniffing his disapproval, the assistant manager promised, "If the gentleman should return, Tomasso Rinaldi will make clear that this kind of behaviour will not be tolerated at the Hotel Bauer-Grünwald. If an earl wishes to speak with one of our guests, he should be allowed to. Is there somewhere I can contact you if he returns?"

Rat doubted that Herr Peetz would be returning any time soon, but just in case, he let the assistant manager know that he could be found at Lady Bainbridge's palazzo. Tomasso nodded his approval; a palazzo owned by someone called Lady Bainbridge was an appropriate establishment for an earl's stay in Venice.