Hawke, Congreve, and Alex’s brand-new friend, the newly minted vice president at Credit Suisse named Sigrid Kissl, were a little late when they arrived at the restaurant. Von Stuka and Blinky were already at the table, on their second vodka martinis.
Der Kronenhalle was the go-to spot in Zurich for both Baron von Stuka and Herr Schultz. In this centuries-old city, few restaurants had more to offer. On the walls hung paintings by Picasso, Chagall, Matisse, Miró, and Klee. It had been a gathering place for artists and poets from all over Europe who’d sought refuge from the Nazis during World War II. And the food was remarkable too.
The baron, resplendent in an exquisitely tailored navy blue blazer and grenadier’s regimental tie, got to his feet, smiling broadly, as the newcomers approached the table through a throng of diners.
“Alex! Ambrose! Over here!” he called out.
“Good evening, Wolfie. Blinky,” Ambrose said, first to pull out his chair and sit down. “Sorry we’re late. I’m afraid Alex was unavoidably detained at the last minute, and my apologies. Baron, may I introduce Miss Kissl?”
“How do you do, my dear Sigrid?” Wolfie said, offering the exquisitely beautiful woman his hand. “We have met before, I believe?”
“I’m sorry, Baron, you have me at a disadvantage.”
“You are Fräulein Sigrid Kissl, I believe. From Credit Suisse. And I am Baron von Stuka.”
“Ah, yes, Baron von Stuka,” Sigrid said, turning a bit pink. “Of course, now I remember. At the Credit Suisse corporate office. You were having coffee with our chairman last month, were you not?”
“Yes, yes, my dear. We had coffee in the CEO’s office. My dear friend Dr. Heinrich Scheel’s office, that’s right, is it not? He tells me you are his most trusted bank officer.”
“Ah, but in fact I was only taking notes for Dr. Scheel that morning, Baron. Still, I’m very pleased that you remember me.”
“My dear, you are a very memorable woman in every way, if I may say so.”
Hawke, like a warring stag sensing the unexpected heat of battle, was swift to join the fray. “I hadn’t noticed that lovely ring you’re wearing, Sigrid. Ruby, is it?” he said.
“A red sapphire. Quite rare.”
“Stunning. Who gave it to you?”
“Just a friend.”
“Ah. Someone who must have strong feelings.”
“Oh, he does,” she said, glancing across the table.
Hawke maintained his fixed smile.
“Look here, Wolfie, our guests have arrived,” Blinky said, quickly filling the awkward moment. “Let’s order more drinks, shall we?”
Hawke took his chair and said, “Sigrid tells me she has been promoted since then, Baron. She’s now one of the bank VP’s handling some of the U.K. investment portfolios, among others.”
“How coincidental,” the baron replied, deliberately vague. “Quick, everyone order drinks and take a look the menu. I have an urgent call to take, but I shall be right back. Sigrid, dear, you’ve met Chief Inspector Congreve, have you not?”
“Oh, yes. We all three met at the hotel just an hour ago.”
“Macallan’s whisky for me,” Ambrose said to the hovering waiter, “and a rum neat for Mr. Hawke. Sigrid, what would you like?”
“A glass of Pinot Gris, please. The Helfrich 2008, if you have it.”
When the drinks came, they all raised their glasses, clinked, and said, “Prost!”
“Please don’t touch that wine,” Congreve said, catching her as she raised the glass to her lips.
“Why not?” she said, alarmed.
“It’s turned. Let me order another vintage for you. Sorry. I have a highly attuned and sensitive nose, you see. One of my many weapons. And weaknesses.”
While Ambrose summoned the wine steward, Blinky said, “Thank you for joining us, Fräulein Kissl. We were just discussing a topic you may have read about in the Neue Zürcher Zeitung last week. The discovery of a corpse at the base of Der Nadel. Yes?”
She sipped her water and replied, “Apparently, he might have been a banker. One of ours, even. Just office gossip at this point.”
Congreve, Hawke, and Schultz stared at each other in astonishment. “Are you joking?” Blinky said. “A banker? We’ve heard nothing about any bankers.”
“Well, you wouldn’t have. I only learned of this a few hours ago, just before I left my office. Our bank’s director of human resources was on our floor, speaking with a group of our senior managers, and I happened to overhear. The director said that one of our senior bank employees had recently traveled to London on holiday and—”
“So sorry to interrupt, Fräulein Kissl,” Ambrose said, smiling at Hawke. “Recently traveled to London, had he?”
“Yes.”
“I suspected as much. Please go on.”
Wolfie looked at his watch and said, “I have an urgent call to make, but I shall be right back.”
After he’d left, Sigrid said, “I knew him rather well. His name is Leo Hermann. Quite good-looking, actually. He was supposed to be back at work this morning, she told us . . . but he never showed up. Calls to his apartment went unreturned, as well as calls from his parents, who knew nothing about his whereabouts. They’ve not heard from him all week, his mother said. Not that it’s him, of course, but still.”
“Fascinating,” Hawke said. “By the way, what was this chap’s name again, Sigrid? Leo Hermann, did you say?”
“Yes, Alex, that’s it. The police simply said his disappearance was one of a few linked to an ongoing police investigation, nothing more.”
The three men remaining at the table looked at each other, all unsure as to what they should say next. Clearly she had the trust of the baron. But, as lovely as she was, Fräulein Kissl was a long way from being invited into their circle of confidence.
“Let’s order,” Blinky said. “Try the Wiener schnitzel, it’s the best in town here. Der beste!”
After they’d ordered and were making idle conversation about the snowstorm while sipping their cocktails, Blinky said, “So, are you and our friend Alex longtime friends, Sigrid?”
“Not exactly. Unless you call half an hour a very long time.”
Everyone chuckled and Hawke said, “Funny thing. Sigrid and I just bumped into each other in the Bauer au Lac bar this evening.”
“Alex makes friends very easily,” Congreve said, taking a sip of his whisky and avoiding Hawke’s eyes.
Sigrid said, “So I’ve learned. And what do you do in Zurich, Herr Schultz?”
“Ah, yes. Well. I run a small office for a U.K. company here in Switzerland. Import-export type of thing. We export our Swiss chocolates and import their English bacon. A high-calorie business, you might say. But very boring.”
“And you, Ambrose? Just visiting?”
“Yes, a tourist, actually. I’m retired from police work now, but I occasionally look into crimes that catch my attention. Idle curiosity, you see. Read about the strange death in the Times of London, and here I am.”
“What fun. Alex won’t tell me what he does. When I asked, he told me he was a male model.”
“Well, look at him,” Ambrose said. “Man candy. He’s quite the lad in all the London gossip magazines. Very much the man about town, you see.”
“Man candy,” Sigrid said. “I love that, Alex! Suits you perfectly, our new man about town.”
“He’s kidding,” Hawke said, trying to smile. “I’m quite harmless once you really get to know me.”
“And after that, Alex?” she purred.