“OK, but only after I go to my room and change out of thisridiculous outfit.”
London felt a prickle of worry.
“Um, Audrey, I’m not sure that’s such a good idea.”
“Why not?”
London didn’t know how to reply. The truth was, she wasn’t surejust why she was worried about giving Audrey a chance go to her room to changeout of her costume. Maybe, after going to so much trouble to find her, she wasafraid to let her out of her sight even for a few minutes.
But then, maybe London wouldn’t have to lose sight of Audrey forlong. Maybe Audrey would let her come into her room while she changed.
While London was trying to think of some way of broaching thistopic, her phone buzzed.
She took the call and heard Captain Hays’s voice again.
“Are you and Ms. Bolton on your way?”
“We’re almost there,” London said.
“Good,” the captain said. “Detektiv Erlich is gettingimpatient. We mustn’t keep him waiting a moment longer than necessary. Comedirectly to my stateroom. No detours, please.”
Captain Hays ended the call.
London said to Audrey, “We don’t have time for you to change. We’vegot to go to the captain’s stateroom immediately.”
“But London—”
“I’m sorry, I really am,” London said firmly. “But we really haveno choice.”
They went up the gangway to the reception area, where otherpassengers stared at Audrey with understandable curiosity. Then they took theelevator down to the Allegro deck and headed directly to the captain’sstateroom.
Captain Hays opened the door to let them in, and Detektiv Erlichrose from his chair.
Standing there with the chicken headdress under her arm, Audreystood as if at attention as she spoke to the detective with all the dignity shecould muster.
“Sir, I assume that you are the investigating detective. My nameis Audrey Bolton, and I believe you wish to speak to me about the unfortunateevents of yesterday. I apologize for keeping you waiting. And I don’t want togive you the impression that this is my normal state of dress.”
With an understated tilt of an eyebrow, Detektiv Erlichsaid, “I make no such assumption. Please sit down.”
The detective then gave London a silent look, which clearlysignaled that she should leave. London nodded obediently and left.
She and Sir Reggie headed straight to her stateroom, where sheplopped herself down on her bed with the dog on her lap.
“Reggie, my head is spinning,” London said. “What am I supposedto think about that woman?”
Reggie tilted his head as if he wondered the same thing.
London continued, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m really touched thatshe trusted me enough to talk so openly about her … well, her issues, but …”
She paused and scratched Sir Reggie on the top of his head.
“Do you suppose it’s possible … that she’s simply out of hermind?”
Reggie tilted his head the other way.
“I just don’t know, pal,” London said. “I hate to even considerthe possibility, but … how can I be sure that she didn’t kill Herr Forstmann?Maybe even she doesn’t know what she really did. I mean, suppose she’s simplyinsane? What do you think?”
Sir Reggie, of course, didn’t reply.
“But no, I just can’t see it,” London said. “She’s gotpersonality problems, and it sounds like she’s doing everything she can do toget over them, which is actually kind of brave of her. I’m even starting tolike her.”
She squinted thoughtfully and added, “But if she didn’t do it, Ican’t imagine that anybody else aboard the Nachtmusik did. What wouldthey have had against him, anyway? Which means the killer is somebody who livesright here in Bamberg.”
Sir Reggie let out a little grunt of apparent agreement.
“But since just about everybody here hates his guts, how cananybody narrow down the number of suspects? Detektiv Erlich sure has hiswork cut out for him. But then, I guess I do too. I don’t know how I keepgetting stuck doing the ‘Nancy Drew’ thing, but that’s the way it seems to go.”
Sir Reggie sighed as she kept scratching his head.
“There must be a way of finding out who really hated him most …”
London’s voice trailed off as a plan started to take shape in herhead. She tilted up Sir Reggie’s chin and looked him in the eye.
“I think I know what to do, pal,” she said. “What do you say—doyou feel up to some more sleuthing?”
Sir Reggie yapped affirmatively.
“Good,” she said. “Let’s go.”
Sir Reggie trotted after her as she headed out of her stateroom.
CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT
For the investigation she had in mind, London wanted betterequipment than the cell phone she normally used for searches. With Sir Reggietrotting at her side, she strode down the passageway and took the elevator upto the Menuetto deck. She knew that Emil’s workspace in the ship’s library wasequipped with an especially fast and powerful large-screen computer.
But when she got there, she found that the door was closed. Sheturned the doorknob and was surprised to realize that the door was actuallylocked. The library was supposed to be open all day for free use by passengers.
She glanced down at Sir Reggie and saw that the little dog wasstaring at the door with interest.
“Has our historian shut himself up in there?” she asked him.
Sir Reggie sniffed at the door and gave a soft woof.
London knew that Emil occasionally shut himself up inside thelibrary to be alone with his books—or sometimes, she thought, just to brood insilence. At the moment, she was in no mood to indulge the ship’s historian inhis scholarly hermit mode.
She knocked on the door sharply.
London was sure that she heard a muffled, whispering soundinside. She thought it sounded like Emil, but she couldn’t make out any wordsand no one came to the door.
Still staring at the closed door, Sir Reggie let out a bark.
The sounds inside the room stopped immediately.
London knocked again and called out.
“Emil, please come to the door. I’ve got something urgent I needto do in there. And I could use your help doing it.”
This time London heard only silence.
“Emil, I know you’re in there,” she said impatiently. “Don’t tryto pretend you’re not.”
After another silence, London
