“Bryce!” she exclaimed aloud as she and Sir Reggie continued downthe passageway.
She’d almost forgotten Preiss’s invitation, and the ceremony wasonly a couple of hours off.
She called Bryce’s phone number, and he answered right away.
“London! I’ve been thinking about you. How are you? The last timeI saw you was … well, when we both had to talk to that detective. What have youbeen doing since?”
London’s mind boggled at the thought of trying to tell him.
“It’s a long story,” she said. “How about you?”
“I’m back at work, and glad of it.”
“I’ll bet you are.”
“I can’t say I much like Detektiv Erlich.”
Me neither, London thought.
“Listen, Bryce,” she said. “I got an invitation for two excellentseats at the awards ceremony in a little while. Do you want to come?”
Bryce stammered a little, “Um, sure, I’d love to come, but …”
London waited for him to finish his thought.
“In, uh, what capacity?” he said.
London instantly understood the significance of his question. Andshe, too, found herself stammering shyly.
“As a date … if that’s OK,” she said.
Bryce let out a relieved-sounding laugh.
“Count me in,” Bryce said.
“Let’s meet in the reception area.”
“I’ll be there.”
London and Bryce ended the call. She and Sir Reggie headed downthe spiral stairs toward the Allegro deck.
London gulped worriedly when they ran into Detektiv Erlichin the passageway.
“Good afternoon, Fräulein Rose,” he said rather stiffly.
“The same to you, Detektiv Erlich,” London said.Remembering Captain Hays’s diversionary tactics, she added, “I hope you had agood breakfast.”
Detektiv Erlich smiled ever so slightly.
“As a matter of fact, I did,” he said. “If I didn’t know better,I’d say the captain was trying to distract me.”
Patting his stomach, he added, “Well, it was a pleasantdistraction. And I appreciate how you managed to find the, uh, chicken womanwithout my team and I having to go to a lot of trouble.”
“Do you feel any closer to solving the murder?” London asked.
“That’s hard to say,” Erlich said with an enigmatic look.
As London and Sir Reggie stood facing him, she rememberedsomething she and Audrey had both wanted to ask him.
“Detektiv Erlich, Audrey Bolton and I were justdoing a bit of online research concerning Sigmund Forstmann.”
Erlich cocked an eyebrow suspiciously.
“Indeed?” he said. “And why would you want to do that?”
London shrugged and said, “Well, since you seem to suspect usboth of murder, naturally we’d like to clear our names. We found and read thearticle Herr Forstmann wrote after last year’s Hoffmann Fest. He seems to havehad a particular dislike for Rolf Schilder. And judging from things I’ve heardHerr Schilder himself say, the feeling seems to have been mutual.”
Erlich frowned grimly.
“Your point being?” he asked.
London swallowed hard, daunted by the smoldering look in Erlich’seyes.
“Well, Audrey and I are wondering whether—”
Erlich interrupted her sharply.
“Whether I consider Herr Schilder to be a viable suspect?”
London nodded.
“It’s a rather impertinent question, Fräulein Rose,” Erlich said.“But I will tell you quite bluntly, Rolf Schilder did not commit the murder. I’velooked into the matter myself, and he’s got a perfect alibi. Not that Iseriously suspected him from the start. I’ve known him for years, and he’ssimply incapable of any act of serious violence. I only bothered to check hisalibi as a matter of procedure. He’s quite innocent, believe me.”
Drawing himself up indignantly, Erlich added, “And that’s all Iintend to discuss with you. You must never speak ill of our Katers Murrduring one of our most important festivals of the year. From now until youleave Bamberg—whenever that may be—I hope you will be so kind as to mind yourown business.”
Stepping toward her, he added, “And be assured, I will bekeeping an eye on you.”
Erlich angrily continued on his way up to the Menuetto deckto leave the ship.
As she and Sir Reggie continued on their way to her stateroom,London felt a little weak-kneed over Erlich’s palpable hostility.
She was also more worried than ever. Until the crime was solved,the Nachtmusik couldn’t leave Bamberg. The entire European tour mightwell be cancelled if it got too far behind, and that could mean that EpochCruise Lines would close down, and that would mean that London and a lot ofother people would be out of their jobs.
London really couldn’t just mind her own business.
If I only knew what to do next, she thought.
CHAPTER THIRTY ONE
Later that evening, London took a deep breath and let it outslowly as she and Sir Reggie rode the elevator up to the reception area. Shehad felt her whole body tense up at the prospect of returning to the HoffmannFest. But without any clues to Forstmann’s murder, the only thing left to dowas to try to enjoy this enforced stay over in Bamberg.
What’s so hard about that? she wondered
After all, she was getting together with Bryce this evening.
So why was her whole body tense with worry?
And why did Sir Reggie let out a half-whine, half-growl thatseemed to indicate that he felt uneasy too?
“Let’s both try to remember,” she said to her dog, “we’re goingback to the Maximiliensplatz to enjoy the end of the festival. Nothingawful or traumatic is going to happen this time. No more German newspapermendrowned in cheap lager! That’s not too much to expect, is it?”
Sir Reggie grumbled under his breath as if he wasn’t so sure.London waved her finger at him.
“You go ahead and worry if you want to,” she said. “I’m going tohave a good time, and that’s that.”
Sir Reggie let out another growl that almost sounded sarcastic.
“Oh, what’s the point in arguing?” London replied with a sigh. “You’reright, of course. Try as I might to enjoy tonight’s outing with Bryce, I’m sureto get into some sort of trouble. I just can’t stop looking for answers.”
London shuddered again as she remembered the hostility in DetektivErlich’s voice a while earlier.
“I hope you will be so kind as to mind your own business.”
Even Oberhauser had given her the same advice when he’d caughther looking at “the scene of the crime.”
Well, she was minding her own business, but not really by choice.She simply hadn’t thought of any other way to track down a killer.
The afternoon
