Once it was safely on its way to one of his secure facilities, Kaiser would worry about the van Gogh crate and all the other heirlooms that Ulster wanted to transport to the Archives for documentation. After that, Kaiser didn’t care what happened to the items - whether Ulster returned them to the rightful owners, donated them to a museum or sold everything on eBay. As long as no one mentioned the gold or his involvement to the authorities, Kaiser would walk away with the biggest score of his life, the type of payday that would allow him to retire.
He could practically taste the pina coladas already.
As for Ludwig’s mythical treasure, it sounded like more trouble than it was worth - especially to someone who shunned the spotlight as he did. If Payne and Jones found something of value, Kaiser would gladly take his share, as long as it could be handled far from the public eye. The last thing he needed was his name and picture in every newspaper round the world. That’s what had happened to Payne and Jones when they found the Greek treasure, and they had been struggling with the attention ever since.
For a man like Kaiser, that type of notoriety would be a death sentence.
No, as far as he was concerned, he was more than willing to sell the gold and retire with a brand new Ferrari. Or twelve.
Krueger had gasped when he saw Kaiser’s face through his binoculars. Not only was Petr Ulster involved, but so was Mueller’s biggest rival. Could this get any better?
In the world of smuggling, Kaiser was king and Mueller sought his crown.
If Krueger played his cards right, he would be set for life.
Within minutes, he had summoned his local crew. Within the hour, they were dressed in camouflage and ready for battle. None of them knew the numbers they faced or the prize they were fighting for, but they trusted Krueger’s leadership and feared Mueller’s wrath.
For henchmen, that was all the motivation they needed.
Using two-way radios for communication, they entered the woods in pairs. Two men went to the left, and two to the right. Meanwhile, Krueger stayed near the base of the mountain. His job was to call the shots while keeping his eye on the helicopter parked near the path. Earlier there had been two choppers in the field, but one of them - carrying Ulster, his pilot and two other men - had flown up the mountain before Krueger’s crew had arrived.
As far as he was concerned, the timing was perfect.
Suddenly, there were four fewer men to worry about.
And Kaiser had stayed behind.
The crate of gold was far too heavy to carry up the ladder by hand. To hoist that much weight, a series of pulleys had to be rigged up. While two of Kaiser’s men fiddled with the equipment, the other three stayed hidden in the trees, keeping a close eye on the site.
Initially, Kaiser had considered carrying the gold out one bar at a time and repacking the crate outside. It certainly would have been quicker than building a winch. He had already made two trips on the off-road utility vehicle that had hauled most of their supplies - one to the chopper to retrieve a toolkit and a second trip to arrange the truck that would take the gold to his warehouse. But after giving it some thought, Kaiser had decided the extra time was worth it if it prevented his men from knowing what was inside the crate. Even though he trusted them, the sight of that much gold could do strange things to a man’s psyche. And the last thing he wanted was a setback of any kind, especially with this much money at stake.
‘How much longer?’ Kaiser asked his men.
One of them answered. ‘Five minutes at most.’
‘Before you haul up the crate, put some extra nails in the lid. It’s a bumpy ride down the mountain, and I don’t want it popping open en route.’
‘Yes, sir.’
Kaiser stared at the device they were building. It didn’t look sturdy to him. ‘Actually, before you even touch the crate, I want you to test this contraption out.’
‘On what, sir?’
‘On Hogzilla. If it can handle the pig, it can handle the crate.’
As far as Krueger was concerned, the biggest stroke of luck had occurred during his early-morning call to Mueller. At the end of their conversation, Krueger had asked Mueller how often he wanted to be updated on the situation, and Mueller had told him that he was heading into an important meeting and didn’t want to be disturbed for the next several hours.
Mueller had even used the phrase
no matter what
.
At the time, it didn’t seem important since the odds were pretty slim that anything significant would happen before lunch. After all, Ulster had arrived that morning, and the other chopper had been around all weekend. Krueger had assumed this would drag on all day.
Of course, Kaiser’s presence was a game changer.
Normally, Krueger would have been required to notify Mueller, who would have taken control and flown in an outside crew to make sure things were handled properly. If Krueger was lucky, he would have been given a finder’s fee and a pat on the back. Certainly not a new position in the organization. But thanks to Mueller’s explicit instruction, Krueger could handle the situation however he saw fit.
And in his mind, that meant two things.
A gun in his hand and a bullet in Kaiser’s brain.
As they walked up the meadow towards the King’s House, Payne repeated the riddle to make sure he had heard it correctly. ‘Where would a swan go on his journey home?’
Ulster nodded. ‘Any thoughts?’
‘Yeah,’ Jones cracked, ‘Ludwig liked swans
way
too much.’
‘I told you he was obsessed.’
‘I know you did, but I think it’s weird. I mean, swans don’t even taste good. You know how people say most things taste like chicken? Well, swans don’t. They taste like shit.’
Ulster laughed in agreement. As a gourmand, he had tasted swan on multiple occasions but had never enjoyed the bird. To him, the meat was stringy and tough, and had a fishy aftertaste - even when it was covered in gravy. ‘Hopefully, you didn’t partake in England.’
Jones shook his head. ‘Why’s that?’
‘Because every swan in England is sovereign property of the queen. Until last century, killing one was a treasonable offence.’
‘The queen owns
every
swan? How does she remember their names?’
Ulster ignored the question. ‘Technically, she owns every unmarked swan in the United Kingdom except the swans of Orkney, which is an archipelago in northern Scotland. According to an old Udal Viking law, Orkney swans are the property of the island’s residents.’
Payne glanced at Ulster. ‘And what does this have to do with Ludwig?’
‘Nothing,’ he admitted. ‘I just thought it was interesting.’
‘Well, for the time being, maybe it would be best if we focused on Ludwig instead of the Vikings since we just flew up the mountain to visit his house.’
‘Yes, of course. I apologize for my rambling. Let us focus on the riddle.’
Payne asked, ‘How do you want to handle this? Do you want to walk the grounds, looking for possibilities? Or do you want to brainstorm the answer to the riddle and go from there?’
Ulster gazed at the house. ‘Which would you prefer?’
‘You tell me. You’re the historian.’
‘Personally, I think it would be best if we determined the solution before we scurried round the site. However, I’m not sure that is feasible. Obviously, I’ve given the riddle some thought, and the most logical answer is a swan’s nest. That’s where a swan would go on its journey home. After all, that’s where cygnets are hatched.’
Payne furrowed his brow. ‘What’s a cygnet?’
‘That’s the technical name for a baby swan.’
Payne shrugged. ‘If you say so. I don’t know much about swans.’
‘Neither do I,’ Jones admitted. ‘But a swan’s nest is his home.’
Ulster sighed. ‘Unfortunately, that means we can probably rule out “nest” as the answer. By definition, a riddle is a puzzle in the form of a question. If the obvious answer were the solution, it wouldn’t technically be a riddle. It would merely be a question.’
Jones blinked a few times. ‘Believe it or not, that actually made sense.’
Payne stayed focused. ‘If it isn’t a nest, what could it be?’
Ulster considered other possibilities. ‘I guess it could be a body of water. After all, most swans build their nests along the shore. Perhaps Ludwig had a favourite spot in mind.’
Payne turned and studied the grounds that surrounded the King’s House. Because of the steep slope of the peak, melting snow flowed down the mountain and collected in natural ravines. ‘If that’s the case, we’re in the wrong place - unless there’s a hidden lake around here.’
Ulster shook his head. ‘Not that I know of, but we can certainly ask.’
Jones re-entered the conversation. ‘I know you’re going to think I’m joking, but is Swan Lake a real place?’
As little as Payne knew about swans, he knew even less about ballets and classical music. ‘I don’t know. Is it?’
Ulster answered. ‘That’s an interesting question. Geographically speaking, there isn’t a modern lake in Germany that goes by that name. However, the story of
Swan Lake
is based on an ancient German legend. Who knows? Perhaps there used to be a Swan Lake in Bavaria that is now called something else.’
‘I’ll tell you who would know: a man obsessed with swans,’ Jones said.
Payne nodded. ‘Good point.’
Ulster continued. ‘Speaking of
Swan Lake
, did you know the main character in the ballet was actually modelled after Ludwig? Tchaikovsky, the Russian composer who created this classic in 1875, was fascinated with Ludwig’s life and followed it from afar. In many ways, the two of them were quite similar. Both were sexually confused dreamers who escaped reality by venturing into a dream world. Tchaikovsky had his music, and Ludwig had his castles.’
Jones asked, ‘Did they ever meet?’
Ulster shook his head. ‘Not that I’m aware of.’
‘But the ballet was written before Ludwig’s death?’
Ulster nodded. ‘Roughly ten years prior.’
Jones pondered the timeline. ‘I know Russia and Germany weren’t exactly allies, but I would think a music lover like Ludwig would have been familiar with the production.’
‘Undoubtedly.’
‘Perhaps he even recognized bits of himself in the main character?’
‘Probably.’
Jones gave it some thought. ‘If that’s the case, do you think the riddle could have something to do with the ballet? Could there be a clue in there?’
Ulster shrugged. ‘Maybe.’
‘Just to be safe,’ Jones said, ‘can you explain the basic plot? I honestly can’t remember what
Swan Lake
is about.’
Payne groaned. He felt a lecture coming on. ‘But please keep it short.’
Ulster promised to be concise. ‘The story of
Swan Lake
is centred on Prince Siegfried, who is notified before his twenty-first birthday that his marriage will soon be arranged. Dreading his future responsibilities, he heads to the woods where he stumbles across an enchanted lake filled with many swans. Much to his surprise, one of the swans has a crown on its head. As the sun sets, the swan turns into the most beautiful woman he has ever seen. Her name is Odette, and she’s the Swan Queen. She tells the prince that over the years an evil sorcerer has turned many girls into swans. The lake itself was formed from the tears of crying parents. She also informs him that the spell can only be broken if a man pledges his heart to her. Head over heels in love, the prince is about to confess his true feelings when the sorcerer takes Odette from the prince’s arms and whisks her away.’
‘Is that it?’ Payne asked, hopefully.
‘For the first two acts. I still have two more to go.’
‘I thought you said you were going to be concise.’
Ulster smiled. ‘For me, that was concise. Keep in mind, this is typically a three-hour production. I just covered half of it in thirty seconds.’
Payne nodded his appreciation. ‘Go on.’
‘The very next day, the prince is shown several prospective brides at his birthday gala. One of them is Odile, the daughter of the sorcerer, who has been made to look like Odette through a magic spell. Captivated by her beauty, the prince confesses his love to the impostor, an act witnessed by Odette from a nearby window. Broken-hearted, she runs towards the woods crying. As she does, the prince catches a glimpse of her and realizes his error. Eventually, he catches up to Odette at Swan Lake and explains his mistake. As she accepts the prince’s apology, the sorcerer arrives and tells him he must keep his promise to marry his daughter. The prince says he would rather die with Odette than marry Odile. To prove his point, he grabs Odette’s hand and they jump into the lake together, where they promptly drown. But, thanks to his actions, the magic spell is broken and all the other swans turn back into girls.’
Jones interrupted him. ‘Wait a second! You’re telling me the character based on Ludwig drowns in a lake, and ten years later, Ludwig dies in a lake, too.
That’s
some freaky shit!’