Page 84 of The Last Kingdom

Kings were definitely treated differently.

He and Lexi Blake were on the move. Christophe and Smith were making contact with the black hoods, further ingratiating themselves with the brotherhood. It was important that close contacts be maintained there, especially since he’d allowed the group to take the book. Ertl was working on securing another copy, just in case it might be needed. She was right. Marc Fenn and his cohorts would move ahead. No question. And, thanks to Christophe, he knew they possessed far more information than he could ever amass. That spoke volumes regarding the level of knowledge and interest within the Wittelsbach family, which amounted to practically nothing. He’d kept Lexi with him since it never hurt to have a capable pair of eyes and hands around. And it didn’t hurt that all that came inside an attractive package.

Earlier, he’d received a call from a contact within the Residenz palace. Albert had visited there during the wee hours of the morning, along with another man. Tall, thin, gray hair, American. They’d started in the Hall of Antiquities and ended in the Ancestral Gallery. Stefan had not visited the Residenz in a long time. It had little relevance to the family. Most of it was a late twentieth-century re-creation. Little remained from the time of his ancestors, the whole thing just a tourist attraction.

Which definitely had its place.

He and Lexi entered the Residenz through a side door used by employees. His friend was waiting and walked them both upstairs to the Ancestral Gallery and one of the glass-enclosed display cabinets.

“The duke was interested in that,” his spy said, pointing.

The medal he knew about. It had been awarded to Ludwig in 1865 by the king of Hawaii. He’d been unaware, though, that it had been returned to public display.

“How did it come out from storage?” he asked.

“The duke requested it be placed back on display,” his spy told him.

Troubling. On many levels. What was Albert doing here? And why show off this medal? Last night his brother had, as usual, shown no interest in anything. Yet, for some reason, he’d come here after their encounter and met with an American.

For what?

“The man who was here with the duke. Any idea who he might be?” Stefan asked.

His spy smiled. “I have no name, but one of the custodial staff recognized the duke and snapped a picture of the two of them.”

What a break. “Do you have it?”

“I do.”

Chapter 45

COTTON STEPPED OFF THE ELEVATOR AND INTO THE EXPANSIVE LOBBYof Lehmanns. He’d taken a taxi across town to the high-rise building that sat in the heart of the more modern part of Munich. He’d also taken Koger’s warning about Jason Rife to heart and been careful on his route and on full alert once arriving.

On the way over he’d used his phone and learned more.

Though the firm still carried the name of its founder, Ernst Lehmann, its ownership was diverse, spread across several hundred equity partners. It employed thousands of lawyers worldwide, specializing in bankruptcy, real estate, tax, immigration, health care, litigation, estate planning, employment, and business law. A full-service institution with lawyers in fifty-seven countries. Depending on the situation, it could either parlay favor or do battle. Its extensive array of legal talent was surely supported by an army of secretaries, legal assistants, clerks, office managers, and bookkeepers, themselves supported by thousands of square feet of office space, volumes of research materials, and all the other varied and assorted tools needed to get the job done. One internet site noted that revenues last year topped four billion euros. A far cry from the solo practice of the late nineteenth century.

The floor bustled with activity among a sumptuous ocean of white in a sleek minimalistic, modern decor. Lots of acrylic, metal, and glass glazed with a mirror-like black shine. Not a ninety-degree angle in sight, everything smooth, curved, and sloped. Warm-toned paints mimicked elements of stone and wood in shades of gray and violet. The polished pine floors were equally bright and airy. Two large impressionistic lithographs consumed one wall. He approached a receptionist counter and a crystal vase brimming with fragrant flowers. Three people worked behind it tending to phone lines and dealing with visitors. Bright sunshine filled the space from exterior walls of glass, which, understandably, made him a little nervous. A bright-eyed young man in a light-colored suit with a thin tie approached and asked in German if he could be of assistance. Cotton had already learned the name of the senior Lehmann, who remained the titular head of the firm.

“I would like to see Dianne McCarter,” he said in German.

“Are you expected?”

He had to play this just right. “I am.”

“Bitte, your name, please.”

“Harold Earl Malone.”

He decided his full name would be better here.

The young man tapped a keyboard a few times. “So sorry, but you are not on her appointment list for today.”

Big surprise. But it was worth a try.

Time for plan B.

On the way over he’d thought about the six lines from the riddle.Where Matthias Strokes the Strings. Edelweiss over Black Forest. No Water Cold. Pulpit, Cross, and Garland. Northeast the Crown.All of them led to a specific point on a map except the second part, which really made little to no sense.Edelweiss over Black Forest.Edelweiss was a mountain flower, like a daisy. Found mainly in the Alps. So why was itoverthe Black Forest?

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