Page 89 of The Last Kingdom

“Bitte, Herr Malone, take a seat.”

Old habits were hard to break, so he could not help noticing the books. Many were older leather-bound volumes. From the size, shape, and binding, he knew they were nineteenth- and early twentieth-century editions. Each time period came with advances in how books were bound. A trained eye noticed those differences and could easily date the works. Being piled indicated these were not rare or precious. Stacking cracked the bindings and depreciated value. So rare books were always dealt with individually.

“Are you a fan?” she asked, pointing to the table.

“I own a rare bookshop in Copenhagen.”

“A bibliophile? How wonderful. I, too, love books. My family has maintained an extensive private library for generations. I so enjoy volunteering my time here in retirement.”

“From what I saw, you’re still in charge of one of the largest law firms in the world.”

She chuckled. “Not in charge anymore. But I do own a large interest.”

“How did I rank a meeting with you?”

“In good time, Herr Malone. First, please tell me who you are, and how you came into possession of the words you uttered.”

“Forgive me, but your last name. It’s not German at all.”

“I had the great fortune to fall in love with a big, stout Irishman. My father wasn’t pleased, but Kevin was the love of my life. Sadly, I lost him a decade ago. But I have his name, and three of his children to give me comfort.”

He liked this woman.

She seemed sincerely genuine.

So he told her about the theft at Herrenchiemsee and the discovery of the book and envelope, including what he knew about Prince Stefan, Marc Fenn, and the Guglmänner. He only left out any reference to the mysterious deed.

“The black hoods are somewhat of a paradox,” she said. “Careful with those people. Fanatics can be unpredictable and dangerous.”

“The thought had occurred to me.”

“You have yet to explain your interest in all of this.”

“I’m here for the United States.”

And he told her who he was and exactly why he was involved. Deception seemed counterproductive.

Her olden face stayed like granite. After a few moments of silence, she said, “The Americans want the deed, don’t they?”

He was surprised. “You know about that?”

“Of course. The Americans and Germans both searched for it during the last war. But the Germans lost the war and the Americans gave up. So neither ever made it as far as you have.”

“Your father dealt with that?”

She nodded. “The Nazis swept across Bavaria searching for what Ludwig III hid away. Thank goodness he was clever and they were inept.” She paused. “Not as smart as you seem to be.”

“Prince Stefan knew about the book hidden in the desk. If he knew, why couldn’t the Nazis find out too?”

“That is easy to answer. The Wittelsbachs hated Hitler. They would have shared nothing with the Nazis, nor would they have ever cooperated with them. My father told me that Duke Rupprecht, the head of the house at that time, knew precious little about what his father, Ludwig III, had done. It seems the two of them were not close, and his father took what he knew to his grave. Rupprecht tried to bargain with both the Nazis and the Americans to regain his throne, but neither cooperated. Which was probably best since Rupprecht never knew much of theRätselspiel.”

He translated. “The mystery game?”

“Ah, you speak our language.”

He nodded.

“Ja, the mystery game. That is what Ludwig III named his quest.”