“You think this friend of yours will know something about the painting?”
Martin steered the car onto a small, town street. Nearby, old German homes dotted the hillsides. “My friend’s house is at the top of that hill,” he said as he pointed to a small chalet situated above most of the others in the tiny city. “And if Friedrich hasn’t heard of your painting, then it probably doesn’t exist.”
The woman who opened the door was thin and rugged in appearance. If Adriana had to guess, she’d say that the lady was the same age as her Martin. She had short brown hair atop a narrow face with large ears and nose. The woman pulled a plaid robe tight against the cold evening air. Her feet were covered in slippers and her legs in some white pajama pants.
Her face lit up at the site of Adriana’s companion. “Hallo, Martin! It is so good to see you.” The woman’s accent was mild, Northern German.
“Thank you for letting us come by on such short notice,” Martin replied in a humble tone. “Greta, this is my friend Adriana Villa.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” she said as she opened the door wide and motioned for them to enter. “It’s cold. Come. Come. I have a nice fire going. Would you like something to drink?” Adriana shook her head and smiled politely as she entered the house.
Martin, on the other hand, was not so polite “Bier bitte,” he requested in German.
“I thought so, old friend.” Greta said as she closed the door. She looked at the blood on Adriana’s face and hands. “Looks like we need to get you cleaned up first.” Greta cast Martin a worried glance.
“It’s not what it looks like,” he said, understanding her concern.
Their host showed them where they could hang their coats and led Adriana to a sink in the kitchen. “You may want to take a shower later but for now you can use the sink to get cleaned up.” Greta retrieved a towel from under the sink and set it next to the basin. Then she disappeared down a set of stairs near the entrance.
The hot water soaked over Adriana’s skin. She scrubbed the soap hard, trying to scour the sticky substance off of her hands. After a few minutes, she rinsed them off. There was no trace of the blood but she still felt like it was there.
A few moments later Greta reappeared with two large bottles of Hasseroder, the favorite local pilsner. She led the way into the main room where a fire crackled in the hearth. For a few minutes, she and Martin explained how they had become friends many years before at an antique auction. They had both been interested in the same piece and after an onslaught of bidding both of them lost the piece to another, more affluent bidder. After the auction, they bumped into each other and joked about the event. Within hours they had become fast friends.
Adriana wondered if there was some kind of a romance between the two but she thought it best not to bring it up. Apparently, Greta had never married. From what she knew, Martin had only taken the plunge once. His marriage had been a fruitless effort that lasted only a few years before ending abruptly in divorce.
After catching up on old times, the subject changed. “So, what kind of trouble are you in, Martin?” Greta asked, taking a sip of her beer.
“Someone tried to kill me tonight. Adriana saved me,” he explained.
Greta looked over at the Spaniard. “Did you kill this person?” she asked, callously.
Adriana shook her head. “No. We don’t know who did. Someone shot him before I could find out who he was or whom he was working for.” She looked down at her hands again.
“I see,” Greta responded. “Did you call the police?” she asked, looking from one to the other.
“No,” Martin shook his head. “We just needed to get out fast. So we left and drove here.”
Their host appeared a little concerned. “Did anyone see what happened? Were you followed?”
“No. No one else was there. And we weren’t followed,” Adriana answered. “I made sure.”
Greta seemed uneasy but the answer Adriana had given made her feel a little better. The German woman took a few big gulps of her beer, copying Martin. Then she set her glass down on an end table and folded her hands.
“Would it be alright if we stay here for the night?” Martin asked after finishing his drink. “It is just for tonight.”
“Certainly. You are always welcome here,” she said, smiling. “But if the police show up, I will tell them you broke in.” Her last remark was accented with a wink.” “I will show you to your rooms,” Greta said and stood, picking up the empty beer glasses. She took the vessels to the kitchen and then showed her guests to a few spare rooms in the upstairs portion of the house.
Adriana was surprised at how much space the chalet had. They walked by a study and a third bedroom on their way to the guest quarters. She hoped she would be able to sleep. Even though she was tired, everything that had happened was still rushing through her mind.
The following morning, Adriana woke to laughter downstairs and the smell of fresh coffee and bread.
She pulled on her clothes and made her way down to the kitchen where Martin and Greta were sitting at the table stuffing their faces with toast and eggs.
“Ah, there you are,” he said with a smile. “We have breakfast for you and good coffee.” Adriana accepted the offering with a polite smile and sat down to eat opposite the other two.
“I also called Friedrich for you. He will be expecting you this morning,” Martin sounded proud of himself. It was almost as if he’d completely forgotten about the previous night’s escapade.
“Thank you,” she said. She took a knife and spread some butter on a piece of crusty bread.
Greta sensed her apprehension. “Do not worry. I have no desire to know why you want to speak with Friedrich. Though, if you are talking to him, you must be looking for something that is hard to find. He has a reputation for being able to get information about things that others cannot. I have no doubts that he will be able to help you.”
Adriana crammed the toast into her mouth and chewed quickly. The sooner she could get to the shop the better. “That is good to know,” she said when she was finished chewing. “Can he be trusted?”
Martin and Greta exchanged a quick glance. “We assume so,” he answered. “No reason not to?”
Adriana frowned but accepted the answer. She never liked to assume anything. “Any word on the man who attacked us last night?” she asked after taking a long sip of the rich coffee.
“No,” Martin replied uneasily. He cast Greta an awkward glance.
Greta spoke while stirring her coffee slowly. “I checked around a little bit this morning but there was no news of a murder and apparently no body was found. Whoever killed that man must not have wanted his identity to be known.”
Adriana contemplated the situation while she stared out the window at the valley below. Off in the distance, the snow capped mountain known as “The Brocken” stood ominous and silent.
“I suppose I should be going,” she said, suddenly. “Thank you very much for the food and for the bed. I really appreciate your hospitality.”
“It is no problem at all, dear,” Greta smiled and stood. “Are you sure you don’t need anything else?”
Adriana shook her head and smiled as she said, “Thank you.”
Martin stood as well. “I’ll drop you off at Friedrich’s. It’s not far from your hotel so you should be able to walk back fairly easily from there. I have to be in Berlin for a meeting this afternoon so I won’t be able to stay and introduce you.”
“It’s fine, Martin.”
The two grabbed their coats and headed out the door. He turned and gave Greta a big hug before they hopped in the car and made their way back down into the valley town below.