The Amber Room Page 0,128

the dingy windows.

The door opened.

"We need cucumbers and parsley. And see if the canned peaches are there, too," a male voice said in Czech.

Luckily, neither man pulled the chain for the overhead light, relying instead on the afternoon sun filtered by the nasty leaded panes.

"Here," the other male said.

Both men moved to the other side of the room. A cardboard box was dropped to the floor, a lid jerked open.

"IsPanLoring still upset?"

Knoll peered out. One man wore the uniform required of all Loring's staff. Maroon trousers, white shirt, thin black tie. The other sported the jacketed butler's ensemble of the serving staff. Loring often bragged about designing the uniforms himself. "He andPaniDanzer have been quiet all day. The police came this morning to ask questions and express condolences. PoorPanFellner and his daughter. Did you see her last night? Quite a beauty."

"I served drinks and cake in the study after dinner. She was exquisite. Rich, too. What a waste. The police have any idea what happened?"

"Ne.The plane simply exploded on the way back to Germany, all aboard killed." The words slapped Knoll hard across the face. Did he hear right? Fellner and Monika dead?

Rage surged through him.

A plane had blown up with Monika and Fellner on board. Only one explanation made any sense. Ernst Loring had ordered the action, with Suzanne as his mechanism. Danzer and Loring had gone after him and failed. So they killed the old man and Monika. But why? What was going on? He wanted to palm the stiletto, push the crates aside, and slash the two staffers to pieces, their blood avenging the blood of his former employers. But what good would that do? He told himself to stay calm. Breathe slow. He needed answers. He needed to know why. He was glad now that he'd come. The source of all that happened, all that may happen, was somewhere within the ancient walls that encompassed him.

"Bring the boxes and let's go," one of the men said.

The two men left through the door toward the kitchen. The room again went quiet. He stepped from behind the crates. His arms were tense, his legs tingling. Was that emotion? Sorrow? He didn't think himself capable. Or was it more the lost opportunity with Monika? Or the fact that he was suddenly unemployed, his once orderly life now disrupted? He willed the feeling from his brain and left the storage room, reentering the inner corridor. He twisted left and right until he found a spiral staircase. His knowledge of the castle's geography told him that he needed to ascend at least two floors before reaching what was regarded as the main level. At the top of the staircase he stopped. A row of leaded glass windows opened to another courtyard. Across the bailey, on the upper story of the far rectangular keep, through a set of windows apparently opened to the evening, he saw a woman. Her body darted back and forth. The room's location was not dissimilar from the location of his own room at Burg Herz. Quiet. Out of the way. But safe. Suddenly the woman settled in the open rectangle, her arms reaching out to swing the double panes inward.

He saw the girlish face and wicked eyes.

Suzanne Danzer. Good.

Chapter Twenty-Six

FIFTY-FOUR

Knoll gained entrance to the back passages more easily than he expected, watching from a cracked-open door while a maid released a hidden panel in one of the ground-floor corridors. He figured he was in the south wing of the west building. He needed to cross to the far bastion and move northeast to where he knew the public rooms were located.

He entered the passage and stepped lightly, hoping not to encounter any of the staff. The lateness of the day seemed to lessen the chances of that happening. The only people drifting about now would be chambermaids making sure any guests' needs were taken care of for the night. The dank corridor was lined overhead with air ducts, water pipes, and an electrical conduit. Bare bulbs lit the way.

He negotiated three spiral staircases and found what he thought was the north wing.

Tiny Judas holes dotted the walls, set in recessed niches and shielded by rusty lead covers. Along the way, he slid a few open and spied a view into various rooms. The peepholes were another holdover from the past, an anachronism when eyes and ears were the only way to learn information. Now they were nothing but ready navigation markers, or a delicious opportunity for