Remo turned abruptly away from the silenced Chiun. Marching past Heidi, he began walking alone across the vast, darkening lawn behind the rambling, old-fashioned inn.
He didn't look back.
HOUR FED INTO HOUR.
Night had taken firm hold of the ancient forest around the Pension Kirchmann. Elongated rectangles of amber light stabbed across the black lawn from the inn's brightly lit rear windows, marred only by the crisscross pattern of the painted wooden strips separating each pane.
Heidi Stolpe pulled her woolen coat more tightly around her shoulders as she crossed the sprawling lawn. Her years spent in South America had spoiled her. She wasn't used to such cold weather. And winter was only just beginning.
She found Remo sitting in the dead autumn grass, his back propped against the trunk of a huge European ash.
Remo's arms were crossed stiffly. He stared angrily at another nearby tree. If looks alone could fell a tree, the one Remo was scowling at would have already been halfway to the lumber mill.
Heidi stared at him for a long time. When he realized she wasn't going to go away, he finally looked up.
"What do you want?" he asked, flat of voice.
"I only wished to see that you were all right," she said gently. "Your father said you would be."
"You mean Daddy Warbucks stopped wheeling and dealing long enough to think of me?" Remo said, feigning shock.
"Do not be overly harsh with him, Remo. He is not a young man. Appreciate him for who he is." She paused, as if considering whether she should speak further. At long last, she continued. "I never knew my father," she whispered, staring wistfully into the forest.
"He isn't my biological father, Heidi," Remo said.
Her smile held an odd sadness. "I am not blind," she said softly. "But biology cannot be everything, can it?"
There was something deeply troubling in the way she said it, as if her life held some sorrowful burden that was almost too great for her to bear.
Her sadness touched him.
For a time years ago, Remo had searched for his biological parents. But when he learned the truth of the two strangers whose DNA he carried, he found that they could never replace the man he had come to know as his spiritual father. And here was Heidi-virtually a stranger to him-defending Chiun. Remo's heart went out to her.
"I'll get over it," he murmured.
Heidi smiled once more. She hugged herself for warmth. "Aren't you cold?" she asked, changing the subject.
He had worn nothing but a thin T-shirt since she met him. It had to be below freezing out here.
"No," Remo said simply.
She nodded. "I suppose I should get back inside. Before they cut me out of the deal altogether."
"How's it going?" Remo asked.
"Kluge wanted to divide it into thirds. He argued that this was how it was historically supposed to be."
"Chiun didn't go along with that," Remo said firmly.
"Not in the least." She laughed. "He still maintains that the deal we made is the one that supersedes all others."
"The one where he gets fifty percent," Remo said knowingly.
"Yes," Heidi said. "I eventually agreed to split my fifty percent evenly with Kluge, if only to get all of this over with. That seemed to satisfy them both."
"For now."
She agreed. From the way she stared off toward the bright lights of the inn, Remo could tell she was thinking about the future. "Kluge has trucks and men to haul the treasure. I think it is for this reason as much as any that Chiun is allowing him to live."
"You haven't known him long, but you know him well," Remo said with a shrewd smirk.
"He and I are very much alike. I am desperate to keep my family's property from falling into bankruptcy. It is a far worse thing, Remo, to have had money and lost it than to never have had it in the first place. We were nobles at one time. With the Nibelungen Hoard, we will be again."
"I don't know what the big fuss is about gold," Remo grumbled. "It's just like any other metal."
She squatted, patting him gently on the shoulder. "Tell that to the landlord when the rent is due," she said plaintively.
Remo felt an odd tingle of electricity from her touch. There was an air of mystery about her that he hadn't noticed before. Her concern for his relationship with Chiun and the way she shielded the secrets in her past-it was almost as if there was a strange connection between the two of them.
Remo had no time to act on these newfound stirrings before she was gone.
Heidi's hand brushed away from his shoulder. She turned abruptly on her heel. Marching briskly, she headed back across the frozen yard toward the sprawling old inn.
THE LIGHTS BURNED well after midnight as Chiun, Kluge and Heidi labored over all the details of the expedition.
Kluge thought that he should be compensated for the use of his people and equipment. Chiun agreed and told him to see Heidi. Heidi said that this was out of the question since she had already cut her share of the take in half. She suggested that the cost of mounting the expedition was offset by his dishonesty in stealing the Sinanju piece of the carving.
Chiun agreed with all of this, provided it didn't cost him anything.
It was approaching 12:30 a.m. when Kluge finally agreed to absorb the cost of the trucks and supplies. The three of them then set about recording the terms of their contract on paper to allay any confusion as to precisely what terms had been agreed upon. This started the whole negotiating process anew.
At one point, Remo stuck his head in the door to the inn's library where the trio was negotiating. He announced that he was turning in for the night. No one-not even Heidi-seemed to notice he was there.
It was approaching two in the morning when their meeting at last broke up. Each of the interested parties went to bed with a version of the contract, handwritten by the Master of Sinanju himself in Korean, English and German.
The ink was still wet on his copy of the contract as Adolf Kluge made his weary way up to his bedroom. He shut the door behind him with a soft click.
Alone, Kluge massaged his aching throat as he stepped over to his suitcase.
Folding the seven sheets of paper carefully, he tucked the contract in his meager luggage. He dared not throw it away. Not yet. Kluge would keep up the act until it was no longer necessary.
Kluge had memorized the details of the Sinanju and Siegfried family sections of the map. Likewise, he had committed to memory all that was visible in the photograph of the Hagan piece. He had then destroyed all three.
Chiun claimed to know all that was on the Sinanju piece.
Heidi had the full Hagan segment.
But only Kluge had seen the Siegfried quarter. Apparently, the Nibelung king had told the carver to put something extra on the piece he had intended for himself. It was probably an incentive for the others to not stumble blindly into the treasure trove, even if they somehow managed to find it without the missing piece.
It was King Siegfried's revenge from beyond the grave.
And since Kluge was the only one who knew what was on that quarter, he was the only one of them who would be truly safe when they opened the age-old chamber.
Kluge would sign as many contracts as they wanted him to sign. He would argue passionately for each bargaining point as if it truly mattered to him. But it did not.
With what he had learned from the piece of the carving in his family's safe-deposit box, he had all the bargaining chips he would ever need.
Tomorrow they would find Siegfried's gold. And then Chiun, Remo and Heidi would die.
Chapter 19
The shabby convoy was lined along the ancient road that snaked through the thickest forests of Schwarzwald, eventually leading to the shores of the famous Danube River.