Captain Hays let out a hearty chuckle.
“Not another dead body, I hope,” he joked.
London fell silent. She simply couldn’t make herself say yes.
“Oh, dear,” the captain said with a note of realization. “Youwouldn’t jest about something like this, would you?”
“No, sir. I wouldn’t.”
“It’s not one of our own passengers, I hope.”
“No. And it was probably an accident. With some luck …”
London hesitated. She certainly hoped luck was on theirside.
“It looks like Bryce and I have to stay and answer somequestions,” she continued. “Hopefully we’ll still be able to set sail prettysoon.”
“I do hope so,” Captain Hays said.
London ended the call and pulled the blanket more tightly aroundher shoulders. Of course now even the blanket was soggy with beer. She wasshivering from more than just being wet. Shock was creeping more deeply intoher pores than even the beer. She couldn’t shake the image of the dead man outof her mind.
Soon a casually dressed balding man with a well-trimmed beard andmustache ducked under the tape and walked toward them, followed by WillyOberhauser, the security guard she had met a little while ago.
The newcomer produced a badge and spoke to London and Bryce.
“I am Detektiv Kurt Erlich, with the Bamberg Kripo,”he said in German.
London knew that Kripo was short for Kriminalpolizei, which meant “criminal police.” She hoped that didn’t bode badly forthe situation.
“I met the lady earlier,” WillyOberhauser said to Erlich. “She is an American.”
London and Bryce introducedthemselves, and explained that they worked on the tour boat that was currentlydocked nearby.
Erlich shook his head and said inaccented English, “I’m sorry your enjoyment of our city has been spoiled bythis unfortunate event. But I shouldn’t have to detain you very long. Accidentswill happen.”
Then with a chuckle he added, “I supposeit’s rather cold-hearted of me to say this, but I doubt that Herr Forstmannwill be deeply mourned here in Bamberg.”
London remembered Willy Oberhausertelling her that the victim was “a rather influential gentleman from Munich.”
“You knew the victim?” Bryce askedErlich.
“Oh, yes,” Detektiv Erlich said. “SigmundForstmann was well-known throughout Bavaria—and even a bit feared, one mightsay. He was a food and drink critic for the Sternenkurier, a newspaperin Munich. Every year he would come to our little festival, drink too much andbehave like a boor, and then go back to Munich and write a feature story aboutwhat fools and ignoramuses and savages we provincials are. Now would the two ofyou kindly tell me how you found the body?”
Before London or Bryce could sayanything, the chief paramedic walked up to Erlich and whispered something inhis ear.
Erlich’s expression darkened alittle as he turned back to London and Bryce.
“I’m afraid things just got a bitmore complicated,” he said. “The paramedics found a rather large bump on theback of his head. They think his skull might actually have been fractured by arather severe blow. Not that this new development necessarily suggests thatHerr Forstmann’s death wasn’t an accident. But as a matter of procedure, I’mnow obliged to approach the situation rather differently.”
London’s heart sank at Erlich’swords.
Is it starting again? she wondered.
Erlich climbed the steps onto theplatform. He pointed to the throne-like chair where Katers Murr wassupposed to have sat.
“I see that the dunking seat isunfastened,” he said to Willy Oberhauser, who was standing on the stage. “Hasit been like this all afternoon?”
“No, sir,” the security guardsaid. “It’s been rigged and ready for the ceremony all day long.”
Indeed, London remembered the seatbeing fastened when she and Bryce had stopped by to look at it earlier thatday.
Erlich wiggled the seat withinterest.
“So perhaps this is how HerrForstmann fell into the vat,” he mused. Turning to one of the police officers,he asked, “Do you think it could have happened by accident, Polizist Wedekind?”
“Certainly not,” Wedekind said ashe climbed the steps to join the detective. “I personally inspect the mechanismevery year to make sure it’s safe.”
The policeman fingered a longhandle sticking out of the floor several feet away from the chair.
“Someone must have pulled thislever,” Wedekind added. “I’m sure the chair couldn’t have been triggered byaccident. And as you can see, the leveris too far away for someone to reach if they’re sitting in the chair.”
London tried to imagine how theincident had unfolded.
It all seems so crazy, she thought.
“Might Herr Forstmann have bumpedhis head on the way down?” Erlich asked the policeman.
“Not a chance,” the policemansaid. “Look at how well-padded the chair is with foam. This whole thing isrigged up so the unlucky ‘tomcat’ can’t get hurt in any way. Like I said, Imake sure of that every year myself.”
Erlich shook his head andscratched his chin.
“I don’t like the looks of this,”he said.
I don’t either, London thought with dread.
The situation seemed to be gettingworse with every passing moment.
“If only we could know exactly howit happened,” Erlich mused.
He walked back and forth along theplatform, peering at everything closely.
“First of all, why wouldHerr Forstmann have sat in the chair in the first place? I can only guess thathe didn’t do so voluntarily. Perhaps someone knocked him unconscious, draggedhim up onto the platform, put him in the chair, and pulled the lever, dunkinghim—as farfetched as all that may sound.”
He added with a grim scoff, “Ofcourse, there’s no mystery as to why someone would want to do that toHerr Forstmann. I suppose there are hundreds of people right here in Bambergwho have fantasized, at least, about doing him some sort of harm. He has noshortage of enemies here. I must admit that I am not entirely innocentin that regard.”
Erlich turned toward WillyOberhauser.
“I assume that Herr Forstmann wasdrunk, as usual,” he said.
“Very much so,” Herr Oberhausersaid.
“And belligerent.”
“Absolutely.”
“And as usual, I assume heantagonized a fair number of people,” Erlich said.
“Of course.”
“Did he make anybody especiallyangry?” Erlich asked Oberhauser.
“As a matter of fact, he did,”Oberhauser said.
Pointing to London, he said, “Thiswoman here lost her temper at him. In fact, I had to forcibly separate her fromhim to keep her from doing him harm.”
London was stunned by Oberhauser’saccusatory tone.
She was also shaken by a dawningrealization.
I’m already a murder suspect.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
London stared aghast at Willy Oberhauser. She was shocked at theharshness in
