The skull was yellow but intact. A wisp of rusty hair hung over one side. There were other objects in the pile besides bones: bits of tarnished metal, a blackened silver ornament, some scraps of rotting cloth. And under a handful of ribs . . .
Then I heard footsteps echoing on the floor above and saw George appear at the top of the stairs, a featureless silhouette against the light. Blankenhagen followed him down.
‘So you got it out,’ George said.
‘I felt better after you left,’ Tony said blandly. ‘Grüss Gott, Doctor. Maybe you can tell us what to do with this.’
Blankenhagen knelt and began to finger the exhibits.
‘He has been dead too long to profit from my services,’ he said drily.
‘He?’ Tony’s nose quivered with curiosity.
‘Definitely male. The occipital ridges . . .’ Blanken-hagen’s index finger pointed. ‘Also, the configuration of the pelvis is unmistakable.’ He lost himself in professional meditation for a time. ‘Yes. A male of mature years, but probably under forty. The third molars are present, but not badly worn; the filium and ischium – ’
‘I’ll take your word for it,’ Tony interrupted. ‘No way of telling how he died?’
‘That would depend on where you found this.’
Blankenhagen lifted a dagger and balanced it on his palm. The blade was dark and rusted, the hilt elaborately carved.
‘It was lying among the ribs.’
‘Ah, hmmm.’ Blankenhagen sorted ribs. Then he held one up. ‘Yes, it is possible to see the mark of the blade. It passed along the inner surface. It would then presumably have pierced the heart.’
He dropped the brittle ivory bone back onto the jacket and wiped his hands on his knees.
‘A murder?’ George said interestedly. ‘Who’s the victim? Silly question, I guess, after all this time.’
‘Oh, no,’ said Tony, in a lazy drawl I knew very well. ‘No doubt about his identity. This was the steward of Count Burckhardt. His name was Nicolas Duvenvoorde.’
He picked up the tarnished ornament.
‘This was a clasp or badge worn on the doublet. You can see the Drachenstein arms, and, if you strain your eyes, the initials N. D. Maybe it was a present from the count, for meritorious service. The scraps of clothing are right for the period, and suitable for a man of respectable but non-noble rank. There’s a pair of leather boots down there, too. They are pretty mouldy, so I didn’t bring them up, but here are the spurs that went with them. Travelling costume, that’s what he was wearing.’ He produced some bits of leather, which did indeed have a mildewed look. ‘This was a pouch, which was worn at the belt. These coins were probably inside it. Here’s a thirty-kreuzer bit from Würzburg, dated fifteen thirteen, and an imperial florin with a head of Charles the Fifth and a date of fifteen twenty-three. And the last bit of evidence, if we need one, is the dagger itself. On the hilt is the dragon and stone, the Drachenstein crest. The workmanship is too fancy for a servant’s weapon. This curlicue under the crest seems to be Burckhardt’s personal mark. You can see the same design on his tomb.’
He turned the flashlight beam to the right, where it illumined the shield at the shoulder of the reclining knight on the next stone.
‘In fact,’ Tony concluded, ‘we can not only identify the victim, but we can hazard a good guess as to the murderer.’
There was a brief, impressed silence, during which Tony vainly tried to look modest.
‘By God,’ George exclaimed, ‘I have to hand it to you, Tony. That’s a damned good piece of detective work.’
‘Seconded,’ I said briefly.
Tony smirked.
‘Oh, well, anyone could have done it. Anyone who knew his history and had a logical mind, trained in deductive techniques – ’
I interrupted. I hope I am a good sport, but I do not care for blatant egotism.
‘Now that we’ve got him, what are we going to do with him?’
‘We must notify the Gräfin,’ Blankenhagen said stiffly. Now that the first excitement was over and his curiosity had been satisfied, he had relapsed into his normal state of cold disapproval. ‘I do not know what her wishes will be; if it were I, I should call on the good father from Rothenburg.’
‘A brief ceremony of exorcism might not hurt,’ Tony said obscurely. He rose to his feet. ‘Ow. I’m as stiff as he is. I’ll go see the Gräfin. After all, the poor devil was a faithful family retainer. They ought to be able to spare him a few feet down here in the vault.’
‘I will remain here,’ Blankenhagen said. ‘When you return with the Gräfin, bring a sheet or blanket.’
‘I’ll stay,’ George offered. ‘Why don’t you interview the old lady, Doctor? Tony ought to be in bed – he’s probably strained that arm. And frankly, I’d rather face a whole cemetery of dead bodies than Elfrida.’
‘I am not on good terms with the Gräfin,’ Blankenhagen said. ‘Perhaps you can think of an acceptable excuse for your breach of hospitality and good taste here; I certainly cannot, and I see no reason why I should face her indignation when she hears what you have done. But I agree Lawrence should go to bed. I will look at his injury later.’
We left him standing over the bones with bowed head. He could have been praying, but I didn’t think so.
‘It wasn’t there,’ I said to Tony, who was leaning pathetically on my arm.
‘It isn’t there now, anyhow.’
‘That was a bright idea, though,’ I said generously. ‘Where do we look next?’
Tony shook his head.
‘I’ve used up my hunches. Without a plan of the Schloss, I’m lost. I wish we could find those missing maps.’
His voice rose a little on the last sentence, and George turned around.
‘Maps? Blankenhagen has some.’
‘What kind of maps?’
‘Old ones, on parchment, in a big roll. He was looking at them when I knocked on his door. He told me to wait outside, and when he came out the maps were gone.’
‘Blankenhagen.’ Tony smacked himself on the forehead. ‘He must be involved in this thing somehow . . . Nolan, I’ve got to have those maps. Did he lock his door?’
‘Yes, he did. But I think your key will open it. The locks in this place are simple, cheap deals.’
‘Okay. Then you go – ’
‘No,’ I said. ‘Tony is going to beddy-by. George, you get the Gräfin and take her straight down to the crypt. Make sure she and Blankenhagen stay there for a while. I’ll get the maps.’
‘I’ll get the maps if you interview the Gräfin,’ George offered.
‘What are you so nervous about? I thought you were accustomed to breaking laws with devil-may-care insouciance. I admit what we did was outrageous – ’
‘Unbelievable,’ George agreed heartily. ‘Why did we do it?’
We both looked at Tony.
‘I was mad,’ said Tony simply. ‘Not crazy mad – angry. I hate being stabbed.’
‘I’ll tell the old lady that,’ said George. ‘I am sure she’ll understand. Damn it, I don’t like this partnership. I get all the dirty jobs.’
‘Then we’ll dissolve the partnership,’ Tony said. He looked a little ashamed as George gave him a reproachful look, but he continued, ‘I didn’t say we were going to share all our clues. You worked like a Trojan today, and I appreciate it; but without me you wouldn’t have found Nicolas. So far, I think we’re quits.’