Date: Sun, 21 Jun 2009 18:53:04 +0000
From: Jo Vincent <joad130@hotmail.com>
Subject: Mystery and Mayhem at St Marks:  Sequel 23

		      Mystery and Mayhem At St Mark's
				 A Sequel

				    by

				   Joel


Seq:  23:

             Some of the Characters Appearing or Mentioned:
Mark Henry Foster                          The story-teller: Newly graduated.
Tristan (Tris) Price-Williams          His well-proportioned boyfriend.
Adam Benjamin Carr                      Mark's cousin
Ivo Richie Carr                                Ditto, as his twin, a diplomat
Sophia Carr                                      Their mother in Dorset
George Carr                                     Their father: A farmer
Victoria ['Tory] Carr                       Ivo's wife
George Henry Carr                           Ivo and 'Tory's new-born son
Sir Henry Machin                            'Tory's father, something in the City
Lady Mary Machin                          'Tory's mother
Ignasz Zendener                               The hotel manager in Strelzen
Tomas, Igor,  Frantischek:               Receptionists and students
Aloys zum Adamszberh                   Rector of the Rodolfer University
Jerzy zum Adamszberh                    His son, studying at Cambridge
Tadeuz Galenosz                             A botanist, also at Cambridge
Herr Diesselhorst                             A shifty Minister of the Interior
Andrei zu Glottenberh                     Rothenian Army Officer [Special Services]
Lucasz Voynovich                           Rothenian Army Officer [Signals Division]
David Vinodosj                                Secret police


			   Sunday Morning: Later

     We took out seats.  Tris and I were either side of Ivo.  Jerzy and Tad
on our left, looking a little nervous, had a youngish man between them.
Further round was a smiling Andrei who had nodded his greeting to us as we
had first entered the room.  A larger middle-age man sat between him and
Lucasz the Signals whizzkid.  I assumed he was their boss.  Next were the
Ministry of Interior people, the man who had asked us to take our places,
another younger man and a man with a sort of typewriter in front of him.
Father Artur and Jerzy's father, Professor zum Adamszberh were next.  Both
had bowed their heads in greeting as well.  Lastly there was another trio
next to us on the right.  David, the Adjutant and the taciturn secret
policeman.  Fourteen all told.

     As soon as we had entered the room Ivo had taken my folder and given
it to the Ministry man.  This had been taken out straight away by the
smartly-dressed flunkey and Ivo said it was going to be copied for
everyone.

     As soon as we were seated a trolley was wheeled in and cups of coffee
were placed in front of us.  As soon as the two waiters left the Ministry
man asked if all were ready.  He said Father Artur and Lieutenant-Captain
zu Glottenberh would translate into English and he would ask his assistant
and Mr Carr to do the same in Rothenian.  There was a discreet tap on the
door and the flunkey came back in with a pile of paper.  That was quick.  A
copy of our affidavit was given to everyone and the original handed back to
Ivo.  All was ready to begin.

     The Ministry man must have had copious notes as he started by
explaining to everyone about Mr X,, also known as 'Andreas Schmidt',
'Matteus Weber', 'Vassily Gerasimov' and three other aliases including the
one, 'Josep Gregor', I'd heard before.  We heard he had been in charge of
various departments in the old security system and had obviously
confiscated for his own use any documents he though might be useful.  His
known exploits included blackmailing an elderly industrialist over fraud
when the old boy had been in so-called charge of steel production during
the War, siphoning off a good deal of money from various 'overseas' bank
accounts of other high-up state employees during the Communist regime, and
being a master mind behind the abortive left-wing attempt to take over
control of the country in the recent troubles.  He had ditched his
co-conspirators and had disappeared with a large sum of money to Russia.
This brought him to his last and most unsuccessful scheme.

     One of the documents he or a minion had discovered was the description
Julius Wildenstejn had had deposited in the National Library and the
University Library of the role the family played as 'guardians'.  Guardians
of what was the question.  The Ministry man said he would come to that
later.  I got the impression he was a bit in the dark over that and this
meeting might also be a fishing exercise.  He then said Mr X had surfaced
again in Cambridge.  They had had a tip off from a source and had been able
to ascertain he was trying to gain entry to college archives but before
they had time to put an operative on his trail had heard from a trusted
British source about the burning of documents.  Here he looked straight in
our direction.  Although he didn't say I knew the 'trusted British source'
must be the Colonel.  He did say that a College employee had overheard a
conversation between Mr X and a newspaper reporter.  And Mr X was worried
about being recognised.  As far as they knew nothing had appeared in any
British newspaper.  I looked at Tris who was grinning.  Scruffy Kent
whatever had missed the scoop of the century!

     The Ministry man then held up a transparent plastic envelope with a
wodge of paper in it.  "This is one copy of a document written by Dr Julius
Wildenstejn.  This is the one taken from the Rodolfer University Library as
there is the Library stamp on the first page."  He pointed.  "Also inside
the document we found the index card for it taken from the Library records,
we assume, at the same time.  This came our way quite by accident and has
led us to solve a number of problems.  I will ask Lieutenant-Captain zu
Glottenberh to begin."

     Andrei stood and told a most colourful tale.  He started by repeating
what he'd told us on Friday, that on Thursday evening a lady was seen to
push an envelope into the alms box near the main door of the Cathedral.
Next morning the box was opened at usual by the Sacristan who saw the
envelope on which was written, in Russian, 'Save the boys'.  He realised it
was important so took it straight to Father Artur who was being visited by
Professor zum Adamszberh at the time.  I looked across at the pair and they
were nodding agreement. When the envelope was opened they had read some of
the contents which included Dr Wildenstejn's document and realised it was
very important.  Herr Moskovski said he was sure he knew who had left the
envelope. It was Madame Gorshkova.  A very devout Russian lady.  That
really set things going.  Both Father Artur and the Rector knew who she
was.  There were plenty of rumours also about her husband, Vladimir
Gorshkov.  Andrei said quite candidly that he was one of the biggest
Russian crooks in the country but had never put a step wrong.  Father Artur
had then phoned Colonel Presilev, here Andrei indicated the older man
sitting next to him.

     "We take the next happening, or coincidence, because at that moment my
colleague, Lieutenant Voynovich was reporting on signals we had picked up
and transcribed."  Here he indicated Lucasz who was the other side of the
Colonel.  He then pointed towards David.  "I will ask Herr Vinodosj to
continue."

     David stood up and smiled at us.  "Please excuse me.  I will speak in
Rothenian."

     David spoke slowly, with Father Artur translating, and described how
we had discovered that our bags had been opened at the airport and my
pencil-case had been taken and that Ivo had phoned the Adjutant
immediately.  No one asked the obvious question.  Why ring security over
the loss of a pencil-case?  But, what did anyone here know?  He then said
that he had been called in later because we suspected we had been bugged.
He had found the bug and on the spur of the moment had transferred it to
the next room.  He then said about the problem with catching the
transmissions.  Here he looked at Lucasz who took over and said the bug was
the latest Russian design.  Luckily, he had details of it and was able to
record the transmissions and also to pin-point the receiving station as
well as it had to send a signal back to acknowledge the randomness of the
next signal.  He said this was a design fault but had been an immense help.

     There was a ripple of laughter from the Rothenians when he said that
the recordings were of a sensitive nature as there were a number of private
interactions which took place.  I must say the English heard it quite
stoically.  Just thinking it was a good job Tris had realised we had been
bugged!  However, whoever was listening must have worked out the route the
two young men were planning to take on their journey into the countryside.

     Andrei took over again.  "The receiving station was over the river and
somewhere in the Seventh District and my colleague was able to place it
exactly after the next transmission.  As soon as we heard the name
Gorschkov we had immediate permission and instructions to rescue the
English boys who we assumed were held at the Gorschkov mansion.  A number
of special services troops were sent to this house up on the Starel
Heights.  It was abandoned.  Just five of his employees, all male, who
surrendered and said that three others had been sent off somewhere to take
care of 'enemies'.  No struggle.  And no English boys.  We then heard that
a private plane had left the City airport at ten o'clock with Gorschkov,
his wife and their son and daughter."  He shook his head.  "Unknown
destination."

     It was Lucasz's turn again.  He said on hearing this he realised that
the English boys must be elsewhere.  "We were not certain of Gorschkov's
instructions.  But with the warning from his wife we knew we had to act
quickly.  We knew Mr Doggett and Mr Baldry had come supposedly with a
wedding group but they were doing things on their own.  I confess we
thought they might be interested in our country's defences as they had
toured Rechtenberg and the barracks there extensively."

     I think Tris and I nearly had hysterics then.  Brett and Fraser as
archetypal spies?  No way.  I bet they had toured extensively - ogling, and
probably photographing, the brawny lads marching or exercising!  Ivo put
his hand up.

     "May I place on unofficial record that neither Mr Doggett nor Mr
Baldry have any connection with British Intelligence."  He said this in
English and then, I assumed, repeated it in Rothenian as the names were
quite intelligible.

     I noted the man with the typewriter gadget did not put any of that on
the machine.

     Lucasz continued with a smile.  "I must confess also that we had
placed a bug in the car they had hired which gave us their position.  I was
able to say they had parked their car and had not moved it overnight and it
was just outside the village of Gastberh.  In the Gorschkov house there was
a very sophisticated radio tracking system and it was fixed on Gastberh,
too.  Luckily the officer radioed that information back.  We found the
transmitter later in an SUV abandoned on a road to a large country house."

     Andrei took over again.  "Colonel Presilev then gave the order to find
what was happening in Gastberh.  I was assigned as officer in charge and
immediately contacted Mr Carr who realised that Mr Foster and Mr
Price-Williams were also likely to be in that area, with Herr Zum
Adamszberh and Herr Galenosz, too.  I have not told them but four humans
creeping along a ditch are perfectly visible to heat-seeking apparatus in a
high-flying helicopter at a distance of four kilometres especially at the
slow speed they were going.  We had also pinpointed one person in a tree."
I had a great urge to give him a really vigorous two fingers.  I had
wondered how he knew to call out our names.

     The Ministry man said something to his assistant who nodded.  The boss
man then picked up a copy of our affidavit.  "I think it would be helpful
if either Mr Foster or Mr Price- Williams would take us through this very
interesting account."  He'd obviously been reading it while the other stuff
was being said.

     I looked at Tris and nudged Ivo.  "He's the lawyer."

     Tris took it all in his stride.  He went through, elaborating quite a
bit of the document.  He started off by saying that he was accompanying me
as I had been invited to present some mathematical findings I had made to
the Mathematical Faculty at the Rodolfer University.  He said a bit about
our quest for herbs and plants and this was why we were in that area.
Really thanks to Professor Pelzer's recommendation of the nurseryman in
Rechtenberg and the botanical expertise of Herr Galenosz.  He described the
sighting of the house but glossed over the stealthy approach to the house.
However, there was intense interest by the group when he described the
thunder, the flash and the bang followed by the three bodies being ejected
from the door.  When he got to the part where Fraser had shouted and Brett
had answered and how the clues in the burnt documents fitted the
description of the door he looked at me and it was my turn.

     I said the burnt document had specified four locks, and three rods and
death's heads had been mentioned.  There were four of these depicted on the
door.  I then held up the key on the ring.  As I described how I opened the
door I passed the key-ring to Jerzy who held it and then put the silver key
to his lips.  I assumed the man next to him was a lawyer.  He had a cursory
glance and passed the keys onto Tad.  He did the same as Jerzy, then the
keys made the rounds.  I noted both Father Artur and the Rector looked
intently at them.  Finally, as I reached the end of my contribution by
saying how the door closed, Ivo passed the keys back to me.  Oh, yes, there
was a real frisson when I described Brett emerging holding the disc.
Someone had passed on the pictures as the assistant took copies of both
Tris's and the military cameraman's out of a folder and passed them round.
There was one of Brett with the disc as well as another with the three
thugs on the ground.

     Tris took over again and described our search of the house.  The piece
de resistance there was my production of the two photos.  The one, a copy
of that in Dr Stein's possession.  The other, the one found in the house.
The Ministry man was nodding his head as he looked at the pair when they
reached him.  Again something was said to the assistant who scribbled
something on the pad in front of him.

     There was more to come.  Quickly, Andrei said about getting Brett and
Fraser back so they could catch their plane the next day, then came the
summing-up by the Ministry man.  Firstly, the man with the bullet-hole in
his foot (and very sore balls, stuffed arse and maltreated cock, though
these details were not mentioned) was identified as the leader of another
bunch of crooks, this time a native Rothenian.  He'd been given the job of
retrieving whatever we were bringing from England.  He had been employed by
the Russian to whom he owed money.  He was recovering in a prison hospital.
But, how did they know we were bringing anything?  We hadn't realised but
one of the postgraduate students in the Michaelhouse Library when I was
there with James Tanner was Russian and was in debt to Gorschkov's mob
somehow.  He had also reported back on Mr X's abortive attempt to get Mr
Luffman to let him into the stacks as a sort of double agent intent on
saving his skin one way or the other.  This had all been found out since
we'd been in Rothenia as the student had also confessed to Mr Luffman as
he'd been caught in Mr L's study looking for the key to the stacks as he
wanted to find out if there was anything more which might be of interest
and he could sell on to reduce his debt.

     Next was the description of the Gorschkov house and things found there
given by the Ministry man.  Firstly, eight of his henchman were now on
remand in prison and being questioned.  The sophisticated listening and
tracking apparatus had been confiscated and would be useful adjuncts to
their own equipment.  David and Lucasz were smiling at each other over that
statement.  There were computer hard discs to be analysed and masses of
printouts to be read relating to wide criminal activities, mainly drug
running and extortion against firms and businesses.  There were also
documents which were obviously used to blackmail a number of present-day
Rothenians and others.  There was also a range of firearms, including the
revolver which was being tested as it was thought to be the one used to
shoot Mr X.  Lastly, they had found a very large sum of money in various
currencies in two safes and were still waiting for information from the
German manufacturer of a third about accessing that one.  Meanwhile, it was
most important that information heard today should not be discussed or made
public.  At the appropriate time announcements would be made although he
knew rumours were already circulating.

     The Ministry man looked quite pleased as he got to the end of that.
He then said he had to congratulate all who had taken part and hoped that
those who had been unwilling, or accidental participants in the drama would
take comfort that a very dangerous and evil empire had been shattered.  He
praised particularly Andrei and his elite team, the Adjutant and his men
and then turned to Father Artur and the Rector and said the greatest help
was their realisation of the urgency of the matter.  Yes, true, if they
hadn't made that phone call things could have turned out quite differently.
But, would St Fenice have allowed that?

     As the meeting broke up so we were able to talk to the others there.
Ivo was being the diplomat and circulating talking especially to the young
lawyer who had sat between Jerzy and Tad.  We asked Jerzy and Tad if they
would like to accompany us on our proposed excursion to Zenda the next day.
Tad declined as he had to work on his dissertation and he was far behind
with his work at the Gardens.  Jerzy said he would come and we made
arrangements to meet him at the Raathausplatz at half past eight in the
morning.  The Rector said it was a most interesting place to visit, but was
most apologetic over what had happened to us and hoped we had not got wrong
ideas about the country.  He asked if we had seen the newspapers.  I said
Ivo had given me a copy of one.  He smiled and said I had made quite an
impression.  The Ministry man was most effusive and said the Minister was
extremely pleased about all the outcomes and gave me a folded copy of
another newspaper.  I wondered if he had a tic or did he really wink.
Finally, we were button-holed by Father Artur.

     "What an experience," he said as he shook our hands.  "At least you
came through all this undamaged..  But, I have to tell you the Cardinal
returns tomorrow so would it be convenient for you to meet him for the
handover on Tuesday afternoon.  I will arrange it with Ivo."  His eyes
crinkled behind his glasses.  "It was interesting no one mentioned what you
might be bringing to Rothenia other than your mathematical skills.  That
was good.  I see you have that."  He pointed to the newspaper.  "Excellent
playing it says.  It was, and you must come and play again."

     We were gathered up by Ivo after we had done the rest of the rounds
getting congratulated and handshaken by all and sundry.  Andrei just about
gave us each a hug.  "See you at lunch."  He looked at me and pointed down
at the newspaper.  "Pin-up boy!"

     On the way to Ivo's house I mulled over what we had heard.  I felt
there were many questions still to be asked and there were missing
elements.  I didn't say anything in the car but I would have to share all
my thoughts with Tris and especially Ivo.  I only half listened as Ivo
translated the caption under the photo.  It was very straightforward.  Just
that the Minister of the Interior had met a guest of the Rodolfer who was
at the University of Cambridge.  I had the feeling said Minister was not
too liked.

     But, before any other deconstructions, lunch!  We started at Ivo's
flat where 'Tory was waiting rather impatiently for news.  We got kisses
and then she stood back and surveyed us.

     "And how long do I have to wait before I hear what happened this
morning?"

     "Government papers in England are usually unpublishable under the
thirty-year rule," said Tris with an absolutely straight face.

     "Clot!" she said.  "Tell me, or else you don't see George Henry for
thirty years either!"

     That did it.  Ivo got us drinks and Tris and I were told to get on
with the tale.  We didn't go into too much detail as lunch was scheduled
for one o'clock and we both wanted to see George Henry before that.  'Tory
just nodded when Tris said a Russian was involved, who had since scarpered,
and eight of his hoodlums were in custody and nothing was to be divulged.
'Tory laughed.

     "Yesterday afternoon I had that young lad, Marek, for an English
lesson.  He's a son of one of the high-ups at the Palace.  Senior Equerry I
think dad is.  Anyway, I usually get the kids to tell me about school, or
their friends but, of course, school's out so I get all the juicy gossip
from the Palace." She turned to Ivo.  "Before I forget.  Rudi the Beautiful
flies in on Tuesday week and I think you'll be needed as there's talk of a
trade mission in the offing so Marek said."

     "Another bloody day," he moaned, "I'm supposed to be on paternity
leave."

     "Fat lot of use you are here," said 'Tory, "Only tried to see if his
son preferred jazz to Mozart.  Luckily he slept through it all."

     "Juicy gossip?  Trade missions?"  Tris was on a winding-up excursion.

     'Tory laughed.  "Marek's just on sixteen, bright as a button, totally
afflicted with acne and wants to study Economics.  Anyway, may I continue?"
Nods all round.  "He said...," Here she leant forward conspiratorially,
"...he was quite devastated as a girl at that International School he is at
has disappeared and he thinks her father has taken her back to Russia.  I
didn't enquire too closely but I think he's besotted with her at a
distance, mainly as his face looks like a plucked chicken's bum with
goosepimples."

     "Ugh," went Ivo, "We don't want to hear that.  Poor lad.  And when
have you been studying chickens' bums?

     "A figure of speech.  Let me continue," she took a swig of the apple
juice she was drinking.  "Anyway, Marek then said there were plenty of
rumours that Marietta's father was a major crime boss.  He's got a big
yacht moored at Monaco and houses here, there and everywhere."

     "Did he say Monaco?"  'Tory nodded.  "Sure?" Another nod.  "And the
surname wouldn't be Gorschkov by any chance?"

     'Tory laughed.  "I've seen his English workbook and there are three
girls listed on the inside cover and one is Marietta Gorschkova."

     "Thanks," said Ivo, "Must make a phone call."

     He was off.  We then had to explain about the name.  'Tory was highly
amused.  "Better tell Ivo I also know about his house in Georgia.  In fact
I showed Marek how to write her name in Cyrillic as he wanted to send her a
birthday card during the Easter break and I had to do the switch from
Cyrillic to Roman for the address."  She went over to a desk and got out a
sheet of paper.  "Won't be a moment."

     I looked at my watch.  Ten to one.  I said to Tris I hoped this
wouldn't delay food as I was starving.  At that moment the front doorbell
rang.  No sign of Ivo or 'Tory so Tris went to see who it was.  He came
back in again with Andrei and Lucasz following him.  He told them quickly
what had happened.  There was an anguished 'Oh fuck!' from Andrei followed
by a stream of Rothenian to Lucasz.  Luckily, Ivo appeared and more
Rothenian ensued with Tris and me staring like the proverbial spare pricks.

     "Sorry you two," said a happy Ivo when he'd finished.  "Just to say
there's a great hunt on.  Its OK, none of us is involved now."  He went
over to Andrei and Lucasz and hugged them both in greeting.  "Have you said
a proper hello to this pair," he turned and pointed to us.  Ouch, we got
Rothenian bear hugs and triple cheek kisses from two real hunks.  'Pin-up
boy' gave Andrei the benefit of a whispered 'Sexy soldier!' as Ivo called
out "Drinks now, quickly before we go downstairs."

     "What about George Henry?" said Tris plaintively.

     "OK, you can come and see him.  Leave your drink here and don't
breathe gin over him or he'll grow up to be like my brother."

     We filed into the back bedroom, now fitted out as the nursery.  A
youngish lady was there - the Nanny - and she allowed us to peer at the
sleeping lad.  No picking up and holding today.

     'Tory was waiting for us in the drawing-room.  "Quite a gathering for
lunch down below.  Frau Schreiber insisted and it's Isolde's twenty-third
birthday tomorrow and there might be an announcement."

     Dead on one 'Tory pressed the bell-push by the front door for the flat
below.  A great greeting from Frau Schreiber and the six of us were led
into the identical drawing-room below the one we'd left above.  Hugs, or
kisses, or handshakes, or combinations, all round.  A hug especially for
Yniold who was standing next to the handsome Pyotor who received one as
well.  Isolde was there with Ingo her boy friend and 'Tory handed over an
envelope and prettily wrapped box to her with the admonition 'For
tomorrow'.  Dr Schreiber handed round glasses of fruit wine and quite
spontaneously, with Isolde blushing, the four English sang 'Happy Birthday
To You' adding 'tomorrow' even if it didn't scan.

     There was much talk over a sumptuous lunch served by two young girls
from a catering college.  We heard that Ingo had been appointed Principal
Oboe both in the opera orchestra and in the Rothenian Radio Orchestra.
Isolde was booked to play a cello concerto with a chamber orchestra in
Leipzig and in Weimar in September and Yniold and Pyotor had achieved the
grades required for admission to the final year at the Gymnasium.  Nothing
was said about our adventures other than comments about the photo and the
glowing review praising both Anton's and my playing and the choice of items
for the recital.

     After lunch there was more chat, then Dr Schreiber said perhaps we
could have a little musical gathering.  Something had already been planned
I guessed as Isolde came back in with her cello and, with her father
accompanying her, played the first movement of the Brahms F major Sonata.
It was then Ingo' turn and he played part of a quirky modern piece which he
said he'd had to learn for his examinations at the Paris Conservatoire.  I
knew I wouldn't get away so Beethoven it had to be.  Luckily I spotted a
volume of sonatas near the piano.  Number 29 in G fell open and although I
hadn't played it for ages I really enjoyed it.  Tris turned the pages for
me.  Then I accompanied him in the song he'd sung at the last Burns Night
Supper at Ulvescott, 'My Love is Like a Red, Red Rose'.  Yniold was up
next.  Again a cello and he bravely and very competently played two
movements from an unaccompanied suite by Bach.  A good ear and a flawless
tone.  Finally, a terrific highlight was Pyotor.  That low-pitched voice
was perfectly matched by a splendidly mature bass singing voice.  With Dr
Schreiber accompanying he sang two Russian folk songs and as an encore,
which really astounded us all, he sang Sarastro's aria 'In diesen heil'gen
Hallen' from Mozart's Magic Flute.  Yes, it was magical.  The voice was so
rich and he hit those bottom F and G sharps with a full-blooded but
sensitive touch.  Yniold's face was a picture as the lad sang 'In diesen
heil'gen Mauern wo Mensch den Menschen liebt'.  The double meaning for him
could not have been clearer.  Even I knew the translation 'Within these
sacred walls where man loves fellow man'.  Dr Schreiber was obviously fond
of the lad, too.  He come over to Tris and me as the applause died down.

     "I have persuaded him to take Music when he comes to the Rodolfer.  He
must be trained.  That voice is so good.  I will make sure he has the best
teachers."  He shook his head.  "I hope he does not break my Yniold's
heart."  Yes, father had recognised and knew that friendship.

     I had to say it.  "I think that friendship is on both sides."

     Dr Schreiber smiled.  "I just needed to know.  I guessed someone had
spoken to you."

     I smiled, too.  "Both."

     At five o'clock it was tea-time.  At least a Rothenian or German
version of the English ritual.  An hour late and weak foreign tea, but what
does it matter!  The highlight of that was the production of a birthday
cake which had a beribboned box on it.  Isolde was instructed to cut the
cake and the box was for her.  She did as she was told and then opened the
box.  Inside was a small piece of paper with writing on it and nestling in
the box was a ring.  She screamed after she read what was on the paper and
grabbed Ingo and kissed him.  All was set.  The engagement ring was placed
on her finger as Ingo knelt and asked her to marry him.  First to hug her
and tell her to say 'Yes' was Yniold.  Then everyone did the same in turn.
Her father was last and he hugged Ingo first and then held both their hands
and put them together.  He said something first in Rothenian to much
laughter and then translated for us.  "I have told Ingo he should have
asked me first, I do not mean for me to marry him, but for him to marry my
daughter.  I consent."  He raised a finger.  "We must have a toast.
Proper.  Not tea!"  From somewhere champagne appeared and the happy couple
were toasted.  I noticed that Yniold and Pyotor linked arms and drank from
each other's glasses.  They saw me watching and giggled so I raised my
glass.  A toast to them, too.

     All too soon the afternoon was over.  After this morning's meeting the
pleasure of being in such company was so relaxing.  Lucasz was on duty that
night so the pair went off after the usual plethora of hugs and kisses.
However, for us there were things to discuss.  On going back to Ivo and
'Tory's flat we had to see George Henry again.  It was time for another
feed so we left 'Tory with him and the Nanny and went into the drawing-room
and settled down.  As we sat Ivo smiled.

     "I know you realise that this morning's meeting was only part of the
story." He looked from me to Tris.  "You had that look on your faces at the
end.  Like greyhounds in the slips, straining!  True, the game's afoot!
But, questions weren't asked and there were plenty of answers not given.
So, who wants to start and see if we agree?"

     Tris nodded at me.  "He's the detective story expert let him."

     I had been mulling over things.  "Let's sum up.  OK, Mr X sold that
document to Gorschkov and we know he was behind the various things we heard
about this morning.  I assume he was alerted that I'd found something in
Michaelhouse by that Russian student."  Ivo nodded.  "That had puzzled me.
I'd even wondered at one time if Mr Luffman himself was the informer.  That
first harangue at James Tanner, then the sudden change in attitude puzzled
me.  I can see now he's so attached to that library any approach by anybody
could be seen as an attack.  I think James was a bit wary, too."

     "It's OK," said Ivo, "I don't want you to think we've gone behind your
back but I had a long chat with James Tanner yesterday afternoon on the
phone.  He's in the picture and said he and Jacob had been invited to the
Luffman's and the old boy is quite different now.  He also said your
American had been in contact and was being looked at as a Godsend by Mr L.
No problems, there.  And he just laughed when I said you would be arriving
back with bundles of herbs. Next?"

     It was Tris's turn.  "The fat hairy man wasn't mentioned.  We know he
is, or was, a policeman.  Where does he fit?"

     Ivo nodded.  "He wasn't mentioned because he was just a pawn in
another of Mr X's little scams but this one didn't work.  Just a little
recent history to put you in the picture.  In the troubles leading up to
the installation of King Rudi the Left took a real battering.  Their
previous organisation is in tatters and it's a bit like the Life of Brian.
The Rothenian Socialist Democratic Republicans won't talk to the Rothenian
Democratic Socialist Republicans and so on, ad infinitum.  Mr X had tried
to sell info about documents or something associated with a Cambridge
college to one lot, but they had no money to pay.  Two of the leaders who
still cling to their principles are on the staff of the Rodolfer.  They
heard of the Maths whizzkid and his lawyer pal coming from Cambridge and
put two and two together and made fifty-one.  Among their odd flock was the
policeman, left over in the flotsam from the previous regime and very
disgruntled about being posted to a shitty job and no extra pay or
promotion, and he was used to keep an eye on you two.  We have to thank
David for that info as said policeman is now safely retired having spilled
the beans.  He was already under suspicion as certain information was being
leaked and appearing in left-wing news-sheets.  He's very lucky not to be
in one of the State prisons nursing unmentionable injuries inflicted by
long-term sex-starved inmates."

     "And the lads thought he was importuning them and inflicted their own
injuries!" said Tris.

     "Yep, thanks to them he coughed up the confession straight away as he
didn't want to go back to the Spa again, either."

     "Those are minor things," I said, "But there is one thing that worries
me."  Ivo smiled but didn't interrupt.  "I guess you know what I'm going to
say.  We know about one copy of Julius Stein's documents.  Where's the
batch stolen from the National Library?"

     Ivo breathed out a real sigh.  "If only we knew.  Of course, we're
certain that Mr X had both sets and probably sold off the second one, too.
I can assure you there's plenty going on both in Andrei's department and
even more so in the Adjutant's.  There are several theories but no hard
facts at the moment.  I think I can tell you that the hard Right is under
surveillance.  Again, several factions, one in particular called the
Catholic Renewal Party.  It fell out of favour years ago as it was very
much Fascist in character and was suppressed during the Communist time.
There are still remnants and although it avows it's very pro-Monarchy there
was dissension because Rudi's line had to be legitimised.  It was done as
part of European Union law but there were many devout people who didn't
like the idea of the succession going the other side of the blanket, as it
were. "

     "So, is there someone else who might be King?"

     "Hard to tell.  No one directly.  Prince Leopold who was the son of
King Albert of Thuringia died some years ago.  No issue, as they say."  He
smiled.  "Evidence is he was gay.  Then there was King Maxim before the
Republic was constituted in the 20s.  He was Rudi's great-uncle, but he had
no children either.  Out of the country there's a branch of the Neapolitan
Bourbons descended from Leopold's sister.  The head there is Ferdinand,
duke of Caserta and he still calls himself Prince of Thuringia and
Rothenia.  No others known but, as usual, there's probably a horde of
hidden princelings and their descendants from even further in the past.  Of
course, Andrei has royal antecedents way back, but I think looking for
another Royal is rather off-beam."

     "So the Leo mentioned in the burnt documents could have been that
Leopold?" I said.

     "Yes, we've considered that reference and it's probably him.  He never
married.  One theory is he may have had had something to do with the Crown
of Tassilo being, as it were, lost.  That's pure supposition.  There was
some bod from Oxford over here on a dig in the 30's and something happened
which got hushed up. Of course, in a country like this there's always
speculation about buried treasure.  Quite a bit of the Royal Treasury went
missing around the time of World War One and there are tales about hidden
stuff going all the way back to the sainted Countess and beyond.  Bit like
that newspaper that maintained Elvis Presley or a London bus was on the
moon."

     "But Mark solved the code and we found the treasure at St Mark's,"
Tris said.  "I wouldn't pooh-pooh such things.  Sutton Hoo, Tutankhamun,
Troy.  Plenty of other cases."

     "Yes, I admit that," said Ivo, "I'm not being dismissive but..."  He
wrinkled his nose.

     "...But are there any other factions, groups, crime-lords, or
whatever?" I asked, changing the subject.  "If Mr X sold one copy to
Gorschkov, is there anyone else like him?"

     Ivo shook his head.  "I just don't know.  One hears about all sorts of
villains around.  Between us here I know David's mob have been
investigating the problem of people trafficking.  There is evidence that
Rothenians, Albanians and Romanians are all involved in some way.  David's
quite a linguist and he's been learning Albanian on the quiet so he can get
some idea of what's said when the usual minor crims are brought in.  They
have to rely on interpreters and sometimes they haven't been too sure
they're getting the full report of what's said.  Whatever it is it's money,
money, money!  So, it's anybody's guess where the other copy went and what
story went with it.  Mr X had a flat off the Herrengasse and that was
searched thoroughly but nothing was found.  Not even a safe.  They suspect
he had other apartments elsewhere and David did hint they had a lead."  He
smiled.  "You're going to say how does Ivo know so much?  Sorry, can't tell
you more.  I'll get Adam to edit my memoirs some time."

     Oh!  Ask something else.

     "No one said anything about the three thugs being Tasered.  What's the
line on that?" I asked.

     "Your testimony has been noted.  I know Jerzy and Tad have been
instructed not to say anything.  That chap with them this morning is on the
Law Faculty at the Rodolfer and he's on the ball.  He said to me there were
too many unanswered questions as well.  I guess it'll be that some
top-secret military device was tried out."

     "We know it wasn't," said Tris with feeling, "And I'm not being told
to shut up by anyone.  I know there's a D Notice or whatever and I'm
willing to keep to that, but whatever happened wasn't anything military!"

     Ivo held up a hand.  "Nothing's been said about you being told to keep
quiet.  I have no power to do that and the Rothenians haven't either.  All
I can ask is, please don't speculate in public.  I have the feeling Father
Artur will have things to ask you.  Just say what you saw as you have in
the statement."

     "And the woman's voice?" Tris asked, "I don't think Brett and Fraser
made that up."

     "Noted, too.  I think they will be asked to come back and report to
Father Artur as well."

     "You keep mentioning Father Artur," said Tris, "An eminence grise?"

     Ivo laughed.  "Well put.  I think he knows a lot more than he says."

     "I agree," I said, "He's said several things that give me that
impression, too."

     'Tory came back in at that moment looking a bit worn.  She been gone
the best part of an hour.  "Come to any sensible conclusions?"

     Ivo patted the seat of the sofa he was sitting on.  She sat and he put
his arm around her.  "No, just going over the known knowns and the known
unknowns and wondering what will happen when the unknown knowns and unknown
unknowns burst upon us."

     Tris laughed.  "It's the fourth of those that worries me.  I came here
all innocently with Mark to help deliver a box and protect him when he
dispensed his mathematical ramblings in case he got pelted with rotten
tomatoes and then help him find ingredients for some concoction only he
amongst us has sampled.  Yeah, then I find myself in the middle of thieving
at airports, being bugged, stalked by a renegade copper, witnessing
supernatural happenings, experiencing a full-scale military operation, all
followed up with a debriefing that tells us nothing.  So what unknown
unknowns come next?

     'Tory laughed.  "That is a cogent philosophical point I guess.  Are we
in the midst of some great scheme which will only be revealed to us
gradually or will there be another flash and bang?"

     Tris snorted.  "I haven't a clue.  We've still got the Cardinal to
meet and deal with that box."

     I fished in my pocket.  "And I think that's the key!"  I held up the
key-ring.

     'Tory's face went solemn .  "I'm just a bit envious I won't be there.
I met the Cardinal once soon after we got here.  It was at the Legation
when Ivo was being introduced.  He spent ages asking me about Cambridge in
very good English.  He said he always regretted he wasn't allowed to travel
widely as a young priest although he had studied in Rome for two years.  He
said he had always listened to the BBC World Service to get the true news
even way back during the Hungarian uprising in fifty-six and he'd learned a
lot of English that way.  I think he likes the Brits."

     Ivo snuggled up closer to her.  "You'll be at the next reception at
the Legation.  I think that trade mission will be headed by one of the
Royals, there's something already in my diary.  Anyway, you two, I'll lose
another day tomorrow sorting out your visit to the Cardinal's palace and
another day escorting you there.  I will then complain to Her Majesty that
her loyal and faithful servant is being overworked..."

     A hand was stretched out and placed quite delicately over his open
mouth.  "...And I'll tell her you love your job and you're much better out
of the house than cluttering the place up.  So...," She took her hand away
from a now silenced Ivo and looked across to us.  "...What have you planned
for tomorrow?"

     "We've arranged with Jerzy to go on that bus trip up to Zenda," Tris
said.

     "Tad can't come," I explained.  "Anyway, there's a lad who works in
the hotel whose father drives the bus.  I've been given a brochure with the
old prices and been told to haggle."  I pointed at Tris.  "I'll leave that
to him, though.  Give him some practice when he has to stand up in court."

     Ivo was nodding.  "You'll like that.  We went there the first weekend
we got here.  'Tory's always had a passion for that book.  The glamourous
Rupert I guess!"

     "Of course.  And weren't we disappointed in the Bitch Niche when we
heard Rudi was going to that other place.  Might have thrown myself at his
feet and declared undying love if he'd come to our St John's instead."  She
laughed.  "Queen Victoria ooh la la.  But I got Ivo the Magnificent
instead."

     Ivo bowed his head.  "Couldn't have been a better choice."

     On that happy note we said we would be going.  We refused another
drink and said we'd stroll back to the hotel and have a relatively early
night as the bus left the Raathaus-Platz at eight forty-five in the
morning.  Ivo's injunction as he saw us to the door was "I hope you don't
cause another diplomatic incident!"  Tris told him our experience could not
be construed as that as we were onlookers rather than active participants.
Ivo poked him in the side. "Bloody lawyers!  Yep.  Not so bad as having to
get the CEO of one of our major companies out of clink as he'd been found
wandering down the Wejg stoned out of his tiny mind and minus his trousers.
And it certainly wasn't a pencil-case they found stuck up his backside!"
He shut the door on us before we could get him to elaborate on that little
tale!

     We were quiet on the way back.  We took a longish route as it was a
very pleasant evening and we both said we wanted to see more of the various
types of architecture and the way the city was laid out with small squares
and parks.  Also, I think we were both mulling over the interesting day
we'd had.  What we were not prepared for was the uproarious party which was
going on in the long room when we arrived at the hotel.  Thirty-five or so
elderly and mainly large, and now fairly well-liquored, Germans, were
having a ball.  Tables had been pushed back and several couples were
dancing, or prancing, to the strains of two accordionists and a sprightly
fiddler who looked at least ninety.  The rest were singing along or banging
their beer glasses on the tables in relatively good rhythm.  Frantischek,
and Igor, with white aprons on, were darting around with plates of cut
sausages and other unmentionable looking foodstuffs, while Tomas was
refilling glasses with beer from a barrel up on a stand, or wine from a
variety of bottles on a table.  Ignasz, the hotel owner, was sitting behind
the Reception desk scratching his head.

     "They haf been drinking since six o'clock," he said, "Zat is ze second
barrel and it is almost gone.  I must get another."

     "They are enjoying themselves," said Tris.  We did, too.  No early
night as we were more or less dragged into the melee by two spry
seventy-plus-year-olds and were plied with drink but we didn't have to
dance.  Good job as it involved a lot of thigh-slapping and knees-bending
which even the large-framed seemed to have no difficulty doing.  The noise
was too much for any conversation but all were happy and other guests who
were coming back from evenings out were also cajoled to join in.

     In one lull I did manage to tell Franzi about our proposed trip.  "May
I come?  I show."  Why not?  If I got fed up with looking at Tris, God
forbid, Franzi was a delectable young man.

     A little later he came up and whispered.  "My friend Pyotor and his
friend will come."  Good.  Three to ogle.  That only left Igor and Tomas.
As we left to go up to bed leaving a still heaving and drinking pack of
red-faced and sweating oldies Igor said he was sorry he could not come with
us as he had to work.

     Although tired we still were able to satisfy each other's wants.  I
fell asleep holding onto Tris on his bed and was dozing away when the most
almighty rumpus started in the corridor outside.  The party below had
stopped just before midnight and as Tris was also now awake he clicked on
the bedside light.

     "Oh, shit!" he said, "You awake?"  No answer to that as I was sitting
up against him.  "It's fucking gone one!  What's going on?"  Tris did not
usually use expletives unless really pissed off.  Yeah, being woken
suddenly was a pissing-off reason!

     "Sounds if the Germans are around."  A reasonable conclusion as at
least three male voices were making comments or issuing commands in hoarse
loud whispers in that language.  Also it sounded as if something was being
wheeled along as well.

     "Want to have a look?" he asked as he stood up.  His dick was floppy.

     "I saw and felt that less than an hour ago," I said nonchalantly
putting a hand out and lifting the flaccid object.

     "Fool!  Come on, let's have a look outside."

     It didn't sound as if we were being raided by disgruntled Russians
and, being inquisitive, it all sounded interesting.  Not bothering that we
might be smelling a bit sweaty we pulled on shorts and tops and went to the
door.  Whatever had been wheeled past had reached the lift and there was a
slight altercation and some of the talk was in Rothenian.  We heard the
lift doors close so took that as a signal to open our door.  Wow!  There
was a line-up of silent German bodies in undress mode - ladies in
voluminous nighties and men in an assortment of nightwear ranging from
flannelette pyjamas to skimpy briefs quite undesigned to support the rather
overdeveloped paunches.  On seeing us there was a silent dispersal and
within seconds they had disappeared back into their rooms.

     Tris nodded his head towards the stairs.  "Come on, let's find out
what's been happening."

     "Just bloody nosy," I said but followed him downstairs.

     In the lobby it was chaos.  Firstly, two paramedics were getting ready
to push a loaded trolley through the hotel doors to an ambulance outside.
I recognised the patient.  It was the crotch-clutching boaster of the day
before.  Two scantily dressed German men were standing with Ignasz
haranguing them.  One was covered in so much black body hair he looked just
like a bear from the mountains where the party came from.  The lift then
opened and a bandaged, very large, German lady was led out on the arm of a
lady paramedic.  The lady had on a loose dressing-gown at least six sizes
too small so it gaped open at the front and I shut my eyes in horror at the
sight.  Suffice to say she was naked.  I looked at Tris who slowly shook
his head.

     The other sight was much more pleasant.  To get out of the way we had
moved towards the Reception desk. A naked pair, Tomas and Igor, were
standing behind this watching the turmoil intently.  Both had protective
hands firmly over their genitalia.  The door to Tomas's cubby-hole was open
so I guessed Igor was staying overnight.  They saw us and Igor shrugged his
shoulders.  Catching my eye Tomas blushed.  Probably realising they might
be even more objects of interest Tomas turned and went back into the little
room.  Igor grinned and still covering his bits made another universal
gesture - that of bucking his hips back and forth - and followed Tomas and
closed the door.

     "Back to bed," Tris said, "The mind boggles!  And it looks as if young
Tomas will be losing his cherry tonight."

     Never having witnessed such a sight before as that lady I was utterly
boggled.  It was a sight to make eyes sore and to be the stuff of
nightmares for the sensitive.  And as for that pair!  We rushed upstairs
and being less than sensitive the pair of us howled with laughter as we
clutched each other and rolled on Tris's bed.

     We didn't bother discussing the contents of the too small
dressing-gown but Tris was concerned about Tomas and Igor.

     "I hope Igor uses a condom if he's giving Tomas the full works," he
said.

     "Well, he must still have the ones you gave him for Pyotor and Yniold
as that pair weren't at the Spa today.  I hope he's sensible."

     "He'll certainly be asked, he had Franzi in there as well last week!"
was Tris's reply.

     I needed to be with Tris after that disturbance so slept the night
away spooned up against him.  For once he woke first and wakened me with
light kisses to my closed eyes.  "Better make sure your sex-drive is
slightly reduced if we are to be surrounded by beddable boys."  OK, OK, I
hoped not too reduced as he sucked away my morning's offering.  Slowly and
gently I did the same to him.  "It's half seven," he said as he got his
breath back, "We'll have to get a move on but we can get some breakfast at
that restaurant by the Platz."

     So showered, shaved, dressed and happy we sauntered down the stairs.
I think we'd more or less forgotten about the previous night's furor.  We'd
heard nothing more as we settled to sleep.

     Igor and Tomas were already up and clearing the tables in the long
room.  There were two recumbent bodies asleep in two of the large armchairs
in the room.  No one else was around so Tris beckoned Igor.  He was quite
blunt.

     "Did you fuck Tomas last night?" he asked quietly "And Franzi before?"

     Igor looked at the ground and took the three-pack from his pocket.
"Please, I use one for Tomas.  I know I steal.  We wanted so much." He
looked at us with a most sorrowful expression.  "With Franzi we did not.
Just lie together.  I sorry I take.  I pay.  You want you take me."

     "No, Igor," Tris said and put out a hand and held his arm.  "We wanted
to know if Tomas and Franzi were safe."

     A tear slowly trickled from Igor's left eye.  He shook his head.  "I
no hurt that boy Franzi.  He is so good.  But Tomas. We make real love he
say.  Tomas is different boy now.  We love.  Please... .....forgive."

     Tris bent over to the shorter lad and kissed his cheek.  "Igor, you
are a good boy.  Nothing to forgive.  But.., ....please give the others to
Pyotor."

     A slightly stunned boy looked up at Tris.  Another fully under Tris's
control as a shy smile lit up his face.

     "You are kind.  I should have hit.  My father use belt when I was boy
and steal."

     "No, Igor, you did the right thing," I said and the smile was directed
at me.

     "English boys use them," he said quietly, "But German man fuck me last
year."  He shook his head.

     "Have you been for tests?"  I asked.

     He shook his head again.

     "You must go," said Tris.  The smile vanished.  "It's OK, we'll
arrange it.  You go and help Tomas and we will see you when we come back."

     "Thank you," he said and the smile came back, "I think I stay with
Tomas all today.  Mr Zedener has much jobs."  He pointed at the sleeping
men.  "Bad thing.  That man has wife in hospital.  She break bed with other
man.  He not know."  He shook his head vigorously "Mr Zedener say not tell.
They try fuck and bed breaks."  His chest heaved.  "Too fat!"

     Tris laughed and smacked his backside as Igor turned to go to the long
room.  "Thanks for telling us.  We won't tell Mr Zedener."

     We had a good giggle as we hurried to get to the Platz.  I shuddered
to think of that conjunction and the injuries that ensued.  Hubby was
obviously oblivious.  Still snoring away the effects of a good party!
Anyway we met up with Jerzy and just had time to have a croissant and
coffee before lining up at the ticket kiosk.  There were about twenty
others milling around or in the queue and then the three boys came cycling
up.  They already had tickets and Franzi went into the kiosk.  When it was
our turn the lady gave us tickets and waved her hand.  "No pay."  Well, we
could treat the lads to something for lunch for that.

     There was the usual formal greeting between us and the lads but they
were smiling and laughing as we stood waiting for the bus.  They got on
well with Jerzy who laughed and joked with them.  We congratulated Yniold
and Pyotor on their performances and thanked Franzi for the free ride and
the continually filled up beer glasses the night before.  They all said
they'd seen my photo in the newspapers and Jerzy chuckled.  We didn't
mention the one a.m. ruckus as Franzi didn't say anything.  Pyotor said he
hadn't been to the Castle so there were three of us to be escorted and told
the story of the prisoner.  I half-remembered the story having read the
book when I was about twelve revelling in the derring-do and the
conspiracies, all now resolved with King Rudi on the Rothenian throne.

     I did note as we got on the bus a slight coolness between Franzi and
his father who was the driver.  However, the six of us commandeered the
back seats with each taking turns to look out of the side windows as the
bus took the route to Zenden and then up to Zenda.  It was so beautiful,
the sun was shining and luckily the bus was air-conditioned.  We went past
meadows, fields of various crops, and as we rose we went through forests
and woods all punctuated by small villages or more or less isolated
farmsteads.  We stopped for half an hour in Zenden and Tris bought us all
ice creams and another fluffy toy for George Henry.  This one a small black
bear, 'just like the German' was his comment.  There was a light-hearted
competition for a name which Pyotor won by condensing 'Herr Bar' to
'Herbert'.  I gave him a bar of chocolate for that which he immediately
divided between all of us.

     The castle was all one could wish for: like a confection of lace and
ice rising from a dark lake; so romantic.  More oppressive was the heavily
classical royal palace next to it, with its history of murder and
conspiracy.  Dark, massive, oppressive and slightly unnerving.  Both Jerzy
and Yniold were mines of information so we refused the official guided tour
as they knew exactly what was on offer.  I think, in some ways, we were
glad to emerge from the almost claustrophobic atmosphere of the palace.
Luckily, there was a rather nice restaurant outside the gates of the
chateau so we treated all to a Rothenian bratwurst and sauerkraut lunch and
a glass of cool local beer.  Franzi was a lot more relaxed and said he was
glad his younger brother did not want to come as his father had said he
should.  Yniold and Pyotor kept looking at each other and did disappear off
together on the pretense of finding a lav.  "They love," was Franzi's
comment.  I thought 'Hurry up, Igor, and pass over the goods!'.

     At one point Tris let slip we had a special appointment the next day
as they wanted to know if we were going to the Spa again.  They kept on
questioning us and at last Tris said, "It's with the Cardinal".  There was
a concerted 'Wow' or equivalent in Rothenian.  "At the Cathedral?" Yniold
asked.  Tris nodded and no more was said.  I noted Jerzy just listened and
made no comments.

     The ride back was just as spectacular.  We took another road after we
had descended and passed through the forested area and again fields and
farms and villages were spread out.  All looked so calm and serene.  We did
note a few large houses but almost every village had a ruined building next
to or near the church.

     Franzi pointed at a dilapidated skeleton of a once fine house in one
village.  "My father say too many houses..."  He made a flattening movement
with both hands.  "Communists!"  He paused.  "My uncle one but work on farm
now.  Big shot then.  Even my father say he is shit now!"

     Interesting.  I know Mum had never really found out about Italy during
the War only that her Father had been holed up in Palermo for the duration,
and there was all the 'only acting under orders' excuses in Germany.  So,
not so long ago Rothenia was under Communist rule with people like Franzi's
uncle and Mr X as 'big shots'.  Looking at the peaceful scenery outside the
bus made me wonder how fragile society could be.  Jerzy did comment that it
had been very difficult and many families had suffered like his own.
Pyotor spoke up then and said he was sorry that things had happened but he
and his family knew they were happier in Rothenia than they would be in
Russia.  "I would not like Russia.  I like here.  This my home!"

     On arriving back in Strelzen both Tris and I made a point of thanking
Franzi's father for the trip.  Actually, he didn't seem too bad and as
Yniold and Pyotor thanked him, too, he was smiling quite amiably and the
smile remained as Franzi got off the bus.  I hoped father and son would not
be estranged.  Franzi was a delightful lad and I got the feeling he was
quite clever.  We arranged to meet Jerzy and Tad for food and a drink
later.  "Good Rothenian beer, eh?"

     The hotel was busy when we returned.  Several of the Germans were
milling around, looking rather sunburnt and watching as a couple of brawny
workman were bringing in parts of a bed.  A third brought in a large
mattress and proceeded to get it stuck in the lift.  Ignasz was supervising
and getting more and more agitated.  A head popped up over the Reception
desk.  It was Tomas.  "I keep out of way."  He sniggered and pointed to the
new mattress.  "That German woman make water in bed.  Has broken arm and
man has...." He pointed downwards.  "I not know word.  Bit come out on
side."

     "Rupture," said Tris.

     Tomas nodded.  "That it."  He turned and took an envelope from a
pigeon-hole.  "For you, please."

     Ignasz the owner came over to us.  He was not happy.  "I am sorry.
Big disturbance.  No more party here.  They are going to pay extra for new
bed."  He did smile then and looked to see if anyone was looking.  "Fat
people!"  He laughed.  "That man take blue pill and try.  You say in
English 'needle in haystack', eh?  Little needle, big haystack!  His little
needle still up my doctor friend says.  He is seventy-seven and hard like
young boy!  Miracle!  My friend has photos for teaching students.  I think
I ask for big photo for over there!"  He pointed to a blank space by the
brochure rack.

     We left on that sweet note and went up to our room.  A quiet evening,
a meal, some beer, make sure shoes are cleaned, see that shirts are
presentable and, as the letter from Mr Marriott instructed, 'please be at
the Legation at two o'clock'.  Our meeting with the Cardinal was to be at
three o'clock in the Archiepiscopal Palace by the Cathedral.  Nowt to worry
about!


To be continued: