Page 88 of The Last Kingdom

Impressive.

His minder waited ahead and motioned for him to follow. They found an elevator on the far side, which he rode up alone to the third floor. Waiting for him was an older woman, with a narrow waist, and an elaborate styling of her nearly white hair that made her small, delicate features look even smaller. Her cheeks were pinched and sunken, her blue eyes misty under hooded lids. She wore a stylish black pantsuit with boots and pearls.

“I understand you have some words for me,” she said in perfect English.

“Edelwei Über Schwarzwald.”

Edelweiss over Black Forest.

“I sincerely believed I would never hear them.”

He stepped from the elevator. “You are Dianne McCarter?”

“I am. It’s nice to meet you, Herr Malone. My office found me when you appeared downtown. My assistant, like me, has waited a long time to hear those words. Please. Come. I have much to share with you.”

* * *

LUKE ENTERED THE FRAUENKIRCHE, MUNICH’S GRAND CATHEDRALof Our Dear Lady. It occupied a prominent spot in Old Town, not far from the Marienplatz. A plain redbrick building, its details lost in a mighty ensemble of mass and space, the obligatory external buttresses needed to support the towering walls hidden within its interior. Twin towers marked the outside, each topped with a copper dome, their bulbous image a distinctive city landmark. He and Christophe had walked over after spending nearly a half hour with Marc Fenn. The older man had told them what he wanted done and when.

Which would be no easy task.

Before him stretched a long, high nave. A double row of towering octagonal pillars stretched right and left its entire length to the main altar. None of the exterior side walls could be seen. Only the columns. Everything was too polished and shiny to be old, most likely post–World War II re-creations. A knot of people was stopped a few feet away admiring something in the floor.

A footprint embedded into one of the tiles.

He listened as a tour guide explained in English,“It is said that the devil made a deal with the builder of this church to finance its construction on the condition that it contain no windows.”

Staring down into the inner hall, no windows could be seen.

“By the time the devil came to inspect, the church was finished and consecrated. So the demon could not fully enter. Instead, he stood here, in the foyer. But the clever builder tricked the devil by positioning the columns so that the windows in the outer walls were not visible from here. Once he learned of the deceit, the devil stomped his foot so hard that he left a footprint.”

He smiled at the clever story. What folks won’t do to keep the tourists coming. Christophe was studying an interior diagram of the church.

He walked over.

“It’s beneath the chancel,” Christophe said, pointing ahead.

The interior bustled with visitors admiring the decorations and taking photographs. But with no flash, as several placards warned. An organ banged out deep bass notes that bounced off the stone walls. They followed a small herd of people toward the main altar and a massive crucifix that hung from the upper vault. On the far side they came to an open iron gate with steps that led down to the crypt. Fenn had told them that an array of Wittelsbach ancestors were buried beneath the cathedral, some dating back to the thirteenth century. One in particular was Ludwig III, the last of the family to hold the title of King. Both he and his wife were there, not in adorned tombs created especially for them. Instead, their remains were enclosed inside wall vaults with little pomp or circumstance.

They descended into an underground chapel with walls of more plain redbrick and found six vaults embedded into one of the brick walls. Each a perfect rectangle that together with the others formed a large square. Crisp dark seams delineated each tomb. Five had their occupants identified on the stone slabs. Four women. One man. Konig Ludwig III von Bayern.

They both stared at it.

No one was around.

Fenn had told them what had to be done.

I need you to break into the tomb of Ludwig III and retrieve an engraved pocket watch.

Neither Luke nor Christophe had questioned why, both seemingly satisfied that twenty-five thousand euros each would satisfy any of their curiosity.

“How do we open that?” Christophe whispered.

Luke stepped close, examined the stone, and decided to be helpful. “I don’t think it’s going to be a problem.”

Chapter 49

COTTON FOLLOWED THE OLDER WOMAN ACROSS THE LIBRARY’STHIRDfloor to a reading room. Bright sunshine flooded in through the windows. Tomes were stacked high on two long oak tables.

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