With those words, he put a familiar paper crown on his head andgrinned as the crowd laughed and applauded.
Of course! London realized. It’s this year’s KatersMurr himself!
She’d simply never seen Rolf Schilder’s face before.
Dressed as a gigantic cat, he’d cut a more formidable appearance.His personality had seemed abrasive and even a bit threatening. But now he wasplaying his allotted role with self-effacing good humor.
More like a mouse than a cat, indeed, she thought, rememberingwhat she’d heard others say about him.
He spoke again to the crowd.
“Since my bribery money seemed not to have had its intendedeffect …”
His voice was interrupted by laughter from the crowd.
“… I must sadly assume that the citizens of Bamberg are incorruptible.Too bad for me, I suppose, but I will find the courage to go on. And now let’sget down to the business at hand.”
He opened a large envelope and took out a certificate with amedal.
“This year’s Bronze Medal goes Otto Laube and his SeltzamesBier brewery.”
As the audience applauded and Otto Laube climbed up onto thestage, London and Bryce exchanged laughing glances with Helmut. Sure enough,the bronze was going to the delicious bock beer they’d tasted before dinner,and that Helmut had predicted to be a medal winner.
Otto Laube spoke shyly and almost inaudibly—he seemed to have noidea how to speak into a microphone or to a large crowd. But London was able tocatch words of thanks and the gist of the rest of his acceptance speech.
Just as Helmut had said the prizewinners would, Herr Laube tookthe occasion to announce the name of his prize-winning beer—Wahl des Tänzers,“Dancer’s Choice.” He also said something about his recipe that London couldn’tentirely catch. The secret of the beer’s fine taste apparently had to somethingdo with how the temperature of the fermentation process had been slowly andcarefully controlled.
Herr Laube thanked everybody and climbed down from the stage toanother round of applause. Then Rolf Schilder returned to the podium, openedanother envelope, and took out another certificate with a medal.
He announced, “This year’s Silver Medal goes to Lothar Mencken’s ErobererBrauen product.”
The crowd applauded, and London and her companions smiled overthe fact that Helmut had made yet another accurate prediction. Lothar Menckenwas the maker of the full-bodied Märzen they’d tasted a little whileago.
Lothar Mencken was short but broad, with an enormous toothy smileand a gigantic, cheerful face riddled with what appeared to be acne scars.
Mencken began to speak in such a boisterous tone that most of hiswords were drowned out by the feedback his booming voice created. But whenLondon wasn’t covering her ears because of the screeching noise, she was againable to make out the gist of what was said.
He announced that the name of his new Märzen recipe was Wiesenbrise—“MeadowBreeze”—and that the key to its fine taste was its unique blend of malts. Hethanked everybody, and he stepped back into the crowd to the sound of applause.
Herr Schilder stepped back to the podium and held up the finalenvelope, looking straight at Helmut with a mischievous, teasing expression.
“Meine Damen und Herren,” he said. “I don’t suppose there’sany real need to open this last envelope …”
London remembered something Helmut had said to her and Bryceyesterday.
“I have hopes of winning the gold medal again this year.”
Herr Schilder obviously expected exactly that outcome, and so didmost of the crowd, who cried out to him.
“Open the envelope! Open the envelope!”
With a knowing laugh, Herr Schilder opened the envelope andproduced the final certificate and medal.
He announced, “This year’s Gold Medal goes to Helmut Preiss andhis latest creation from his Schutzkeller Brauen.”
Unsurprised but obviously very happy, the crowd broke into aneven louder round of applause. London and Bryce gave Helmut congratulatory patson the back, then he mounted the stage, walked to the podium, and accepted themedal and certificate. Unlike the other speakers, Helmut’s words through themicrophone were perfectly clear.
“Danke schein, Meine Damen und Herren. As always, this isa great honor, and I never fail to be humbled by it.”
He lowered his head for a moment and spoke in a quieter voice.
“I know that many of you do not share my sentiments … but I onlywish Sigmund Forstmann could be here right now. I … I will miss him.”
A vague murmur passed through the crowd.
Helmut managed to smile as he spoke again.
“But enough of sad matters. Allow me to announce the name of thebeer that you have chosen to win this medal.”
He paused for a moment, then said, “I call it Illicium.”
London was jolted by the sound of that name.
Where have I heard that word before? she wondered.
Then Helmut added, “It is a Latin word meaning ‘enticement’—andit is also the name of the spice better known as ‘star anise.’”
London’s breath froze in her lungs as an awful possibility dawnedon her.
CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR
“No,” London murmured aloud. “It can’t be true.”
“What’s the matter?” Bryce asked.
London’s heart was beating hard and fast.
Instead of answering, she grabbed her cell phone and hunted forthe email that Forstmann had written to Werner Mannheim, his editor at the Sternenkurier.
When she opened it, her eyes immediately fell upon a certainsentence.
“The beer was to be named Illicium, which is the Latinword for ‘enticement’ and also the proper name of the spice called star anise.”
Forstmann had written that about a long-lost beer recipe. AndHelmut Preiss had just very nearly the same thing.
Helmut kept speaking, “Brewers often make use of star anise, butrather vulgarly, in my opinion …”
London opened the PDF file that had been attached to Forstmann’semail—“an especially interesting recipe,” he had called it. The file wasa facsimile of a yellowed old document composed in elegant handwriting.
She felt dizzy as she read the opening words.
“Brewers often make use of star anise, but rather vulgarly, inmy opinion …”
Those were exactly the same words Helmut had spoken just now.
Things got worse as Helmut kept talking.
“How does one keep star anise from overwhelming the recipe,creating beer reminiscent of licorice candy?”
Glancing along the document, London found exactly that samesentence written there.
She got up from her chair.
“London, what are you doing?” Bryce asked as he reached out andstopped Sir
