Borrower of the Night - Elizabeth Peters [20]
‘Or farther. But that isn’t likely. A single thief couldn’t overpower six armed men. And if there were several thieves, the chance of all of them being killed before they could pass on the secret of the hiding place is remote. Besides, where could they hide it, a group of homeless peasants, so that the hiding place remained undisturbed for four hundred and fifty years? Now this castle . . .’
The massive walls seemed to close in around us. Tony’s reasoning wasn’t new to me; I had reached the same conclusions, not because we were en rapport, but because they were logical conclusions. There were plenty of holes, and weak links, in the chain of reasoning, but at the end of it lay a solid fact: even on the evidence we had, Schloss Drachenstein was worth searching.
I said as much. Tony snorted vulgarly. Like all men, he likes to have his lectures received with little feminine squeals of admiration. So I added tactfully, ‘But that’s as far as logic took me, Tony. Suppose the shrine is here. Where do we look? The castle is enormous. You’re so clever at this sort of thing; can’t you narrow it down?’
Tony is very susceptible to the grosser forms of flattery. He beamed.
‘Obviously the shrine wasn’t left out on a shelf, in plain sight. Rothenburg was a real hotbed of radicalism, and although the revolt was officially suppressed before Burckhardt got home, I would think he’d prefer to tuck his valuables away till things were back to normal. Now here’s an interesting point that maybe you didn’t know. The count and his wife both died that same year, leaving an infant daughter. I don’t know how Burckhardt and Konstanze died, but it must have been suddenly. They had no opportunity to pass on the secret. The child was too young to know anything.’
‘It’s plausible. If the shrine exists, it is hidden somewhere in the older section of the Schloss.’
‘I wish I knew the layout of the place a little better. Where do Irma and the old Gräfin live? It would be mildly embarrassing to meet one of them while we were ripping up the floor.’
‘The dowager’s rooms are in the tower at the end of our wing.’ Tony gestured. ‘I think Irma’s room is under the old lady’s.’
‘Nuts. I hoped I was alone in the old wing.’
‘You’re surrounded,’ Tony said, with mean satisfaction. ‘Nolan’s room is down the hall. I’m next to you, and on your other side is Dr Blankenhagen, our conversational tablemate. The little fat guy is next to me. That’s about all . . . Oh, yeah, the English female is in the tower too. I told you she was a crony of the Gräfin.’
‘Good God. How can we do any searching? It’s like Main Street on Saturday night.’
‘If you’re planning to start ripping up floor boards in the guest rooms, you aren’t as logical as you think you are.’
I sighed ostentatiously.
‘Must I explain my reasoning? I thought it was obvious.’
‘I’ve been sharing my humble thinking with you. Go ahead, be obvious.’
‘Well, isn’t the master bedchamber – Burckhardt’s own room – the logical place in which to start searching?’
‘It might be, if we knew which room was Burckhardt’s.’
At that moment the moon rose above the wall and turned the little garden into something out of Rostand. I glanced at Tony. He put his arm around me and I leaned back against it.
‘I can’t fight with you,’ Tony said.
‘You can’t fight with anybody. You’re too nice a guy. No, none of that. We were reasoning, remember. What we need is a plan of the Schloss as it was in the good old days. Or we could ask the Gräfin which room was the master bedchamber.’
‘I’m against that.’
‘So am I,’ I agreed amiably. ‘We don’t want to rouse any suspicions. Anyhow, she may not know.’
‘And until we know, I don’t see any point in searching the bedrooms. The hiding place won’t be obvious; you really would have to rip up floors and tear down the walls.’
‘Anyhow,’ I said thoughtfully, ‘the count’s room might not have been the best place to hide something. Didn’t they have servants and attendants hanging around all the time?’
‘I wouldn