Der Hohenzollern
“More champagne, darling?”
“Just a splash, Alex. No-no, stop!” Sigrid cried.
Ambrose Congreve sat back and smiled at the two of them. He could not remember seeing his old friend so happy. At least not in a very long time. All three of them had dressed to the nines for their Christmas Eve dinner. Hawke and Ambrose resplendent in black tie, Sigrid radiant in a plunging sequined gown of bright Christmas red.
Tomorrow morning, Ambrose and Alex would board Hawke’s Gulfstream for the short flight back to London. But tonight the three friends celebrated where it had all begun.
Der Hohenzollern.
All the festive arrangements had been made in secret; Sigrid collaborated with her old co-conspirator in the planning. The two had reserved the small private dining room on the second floor. The hand-hewn wooden room was a masterpiece of nineteenth-century Austrian carpentry. It had a stone fireplace and lead-paned windows with a view of the bustling town square below and the light snow falling softly on this happy Christmas Eve.
Best of all, a glorious Christmas tree stood in the corner. The top branches of dark green fir brushed the vaulted ceiling; all were decorated with red wooden ornaments, and lighted candles gave the place a golden glow. There were two gifts beneath the tree, one each for Ambrose and Alex.
Laughter was mixed with tying up a few loose ends from the week. Wolfie had been arrested by the Stadtspolizei, based on hard evidence supplied by an anonymous source. The case had exploded, reverberating across front pages on both sides of the Atlantic. MI6 and CIA were jointly looking into von Stuka’s criminal networks in both Moscow and Beijing, originating in the former and routed through the latter. Hawke and Congreve were assisting with the ongoing investigations.
The source was, of course, Dr. Steinhauser. Hawke had insisted that his friend remain hidden deep inside his Bat Cave, his secret work far too valuable to be revealed to the world at large.
Near the end of the dinner, Ambrose asked about Hawke’s decision not to continue on to the summit of Der Nadel, Alex’s quest to complete the sad search for his grandfather’s bones.
“Two things,” he’d replied.
“I know you weren’t afraid, darling, so why stop?” Sigrid said.
“On the contrary, I was bloody terrified. I think I was in a state of shock going up that Murder Wall. I have no recollection at all of how I bloody did it. Some mysterious part of me took control of my mind and body and got me to the top. It was only laying there on that snowy ledge that I even realized I was safe.”
“Why didn’t you continue?” Congreve said, “Why didn’t you go on?”
“I’m not like my grandfather, climbing at age seventy. I’m too old even now. You might be glad to know I’ll never climb another mountain alone.”
“I’ll drink to that!” Sigrid laughed, raising her glass in a toast.
They clinked glasses and Hawke continued.
“That brave old man is going nowhere now. And I have a hell of a lot of living to do. I have my son to take care of, after all. And a certain woman of my acquaintance who badly needs all the help she can get.”
Sigrid laughed to the point where she almost sprayed them both with champagne. “You said there were two reasons, you sexist pig. What’s the other one?”
“Tonight,” Alex said. “That was the real reason. I was determined up there that nothing would prevent me from spending Christmas Eve here in this room, with two people I care so deeply about.”
“Well said,” Ambrose replied with glistening eyes.
Sigrid clinked her glass with her spoon and got to her feet. Hawke thought she had never looked lovelier than she did at that moment, standing in the warm glow of the Christmas tree candles.
“Well, we’ve been busy down here, too, your lordship. Haven’t we, Chief Inspector?”
“Oh, right, I haven’t mentioned that yet, have I? Well, Alex, it seems I have a new employee. Someone who has demonstrated great courage and a keen interest in the work of the criminalist.”
“Really?” Hawke interrupted, beaming at her.
“Really. Sigrid has resigned her position with Credit Suisse. She is moving from Zurich to London, where she will live in the old gardener’s cottage at Brixden House in the Cotswolds. There, she will assist me in every aspect of my work during the daylight hours. At night, she will be enrolled at the University of Glouscestershire, having received early acceptance to study criminal law. It is her intention upon graduation to seek employment at New Scotland Yard.”
Hawke reached across the table and took her hand.
“How perfectly wonderful,” he said, “How wonderful that is.”
“I was hoping you’d say that, Alex. I so hoped you wouldn’t feel it was somehow presumptuous of me.”
“Are you joking, girl? You’ll be right down the road. We can go on picnics by the Thames! You’ll meet Alexei, too. I’m sure you two will become fast friends . . . it is the very happiest news, darling. What a truly wonderful Christmas gift. I’m so sorry I don’t have anything for you and—”
“There is one thing,” Congreve said, smiling at them both. “My new assistant and I have a lot of work to do tomorrow. I was wondering if you might find room to find a seat for her on Hawke Air in the morning?”
“You’re moving to London now?”
“Lady Mars says the cottage is all ready. The shippers will arrive with my things on Saturday, so—”
“So, we’ll all celebrate Christmas together, Alex.”
Hawke laughed and said, “I always got to open one present on Christmas Eve. Is one of those boxes under the tree for me?”
“Open it and find out,” Sigrid said.
It was.
A messenger had arrived that day with a framed photograph from Dr. Steinhauser. A grainy black-and-white picture he’d found in one of his scrapbooks.
A photograph of Alex and his grandfather, their arms around each other, smiling happily in the sunlight. It was taken early on the morning as they began their ascent of Der Nadel.
“Merry Christmas, darling!” Sigrid said, and kissed him on the cheek.