Murder [and Baklava] (A European Voyage #1)- Blake Pierce Page 0,21

they entered an enormous square of swirling orange and brown mosaic designs. St. Stephen’s dome and twin towers now loomed high before them.

“Have you been to the Basilica before?” Emil asked London.

“Not since I was a little girl. I’d forgotten how tall it was!”

“Yes, even taller than Buda Castle,” Emil said with a nod. “Exactly the same height as the Hungarian Parliament Building, making them the two tallest structures in Budapest. The two buildings are said to represent how spiritual and worldly concerns are of equal importance.”

Then Emil laughed a little.

“I do not mean to come across as—what is the idiom?—a ‘know-everything’?”

London laughed a little as well.

“Close again,” she said. “It’s a ‘know-it-all.’ And I don’t think you come across that way at all. Anyway, knowing this kind of thing is your job, after all. And right now I could use a bit of your expertise. Since I’ve had no time to prepare, I’m afraid I won’t be much use as a guide. Would you very much mind …?”

“Leading a little tour? I’d be delighted.”

London breathed a bit easier. She felt lucky to have met Emil just when she’d needed him.

As the group gathered together, Lillis Klimowski stood apart from them staring at the mighty facade. Her dog was peering crossly out of his leather bag.

As he began to talk, Emil took on an authoritative, Old World, professorial sort of air. But far from it making him seem to London like a “know-it-all,” she found him to be more impressive—and also more than a bit attractive.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” he said, “as we make our visit, I’m sure you will find St. Stephen to be a palpable presence inside the Basilica. And St. Stephen holds a firm protective hand over this great city—quite literally, as you will soon see.”

London felt a strange chill at those words, “a palpable presence.”

The words “protective hand” also triggered some distant memory.

What was it that had held her in awe when she had visited here as a child with Mom and Dad? She couldn’t remember now exactly what it was that had touched her so deeply.

As they stepped onto the porch, Emil pointed out a bas-relief of the Virgin Mary on the massive pediment that towered above them. The passengers dutifully put money into the donation box and continued on through the main portal and into the sanctuary, where London joined the others in a collective gasp of amazement. Some genuflected and made the sign of the cross, while others simply stood in stunned reverence.

The interior of the basilica was staggering, with walls of dark marble, mighty columns, and great sculptures. The light was dim, but even so, London felt almost blinded by the elaborate gold leaf decorations, the countless paintings and mosaics, and the gigantic stained glass windows.

And the sheer size of the place made her positively light-headed.

Just like when I was little, she thought.

Now she could remember how it had felt to walk in here all those years ago, with her parents right beside her. She remembered how glad she’d been that Mom and Dad were each holding her by the hand—because otherwise, she might have fallen down from dizziness.

If only Mom and Dad were here right now to hold her hands again, to make sure she didn’t fall.

But I’m grown up, she reminded herself.

I can stand on my own.

Meanwhile, Mrs. Klimowski’s dog wasn’t proving to be a problem. Perhaps more than a little awe-stricken himself, Sir Reginald Taft’s face wasn’t even visible, and he looked like nothing more than a wig again.

Mrs. Klimowski stopped at the baptismal font, touched the water with her fingers, and then made the sign of the cross and whispered in prayer before she continued on into the sanctuary and sat down in silence. London remembered what the woman had said before the group had left the ship.

“Mine has been a tragic life. I have a greater need than most people for the comfort of prayer.”

London had no idea what kinds of tragedies Mrs. Klimowski might have suffered.

Maybe she just overdramatizes things.

She also seemed to have a disagreeable tendency to blame others for whatever happened to displease her in life. Even so, for a moment London felt able to overlook the woman’s self-centeredness and sympathize with whatever was troubling her.

Emil led the rest of the group on through the basilica. After they’d made a full circuit of the sanctuary, they took an elevator ride up inside the dome and stepped outside to see a panorama of the entire city