Danger at Dead Man's Pass Page 15

  ‘What are you doing?’ It was Arnie.

  ‘Watching everyone.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’m trying to work out who played that horrible trick on you and Herman.’

  ‘You think it was someone in the family?’

  ‘I don’t know,’ Hal admitted. ‘I can’t understand German. I don’t know what they’re all saying.’

  ‘Clara is blaming Mama, saying she’s been trying to get rid of her since they arrived. Mama is angry, outraged that Clara thinks she would do something like that to me.’ He looked to his grandfather. ‘Connie is trying to persuade Opa to take his medication.’

  ‘Do you know what they’re talking about?’ Hal pointed through the dining-room doorway.

  ‘The will. After the funeral, that is when you read the will, but Papa’s will is missing.’

  ‘You know about the missing will?’

  ‘Of course.’ Arnie grinned and lowered his voice. ‘Mama burned it.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Once Herr Melchior had proclaimed Papa dead, Mama went upstairs and locked herself in the study. She opened Opa’s safe. She’s known the combination for years. She took out Papa’s will, read it, cried and then burned it on the fire. I watched her through the keyhole of the door in the music room.’ He looked over at his mother. ‘She was trying to protect me.’

  Freya and Rada came back in and Hal saw that Rada had a plastic sleeve of paper under her arm. He spotted the logo of the three mountains. They approached the arguing women, and spoke with them in low tones.

  ‘Aunt Freya’s saying they should all go into the dining room. They need to talk,’ Arnie translated. ‘C’mon, let’s listen. This sounds interesting.’

  The adults went into the dining room and closed the doors behind them.

  ‘We’ll never hear anything through those doors,’ Hal said. ‘They’re really thick.’

  ‘No, here. Upstairs. Come on.’ Arnie bounded up the stairs two at a time, and Hal followed him into Arnold’s model railway room. ‘Here,’ whispered Arnie, waving Hal over to the tunnel entrance that the trains travelled down to get to the dining-room table. They lowered their heads to the tunnel and Hal could hear everything, but everyone was speaking in German.

  ‘I don’t understand. Translate for me.’

  Arnie waved at him to be quiet.

  ‘Rada is talking. She is a lawyer. She says that as the will is missing, the family must decide how it wants to proceed. Mama is saying that she would have contested the will, as it disinherited me. She says that I have rights.’ Arnie raised his eyebrows. ‘Rada says that, as his spouse, Clara is legally entitled to a quarter of his estate, and that the rest is to be split equally between me and Herman.’ He listened for a prolonged period and Hal studied his face, trying to work out what was going on.

  ‘What are they saying?’

  ‘If they split Papa’s estate this way, I would own a share of the apartment in Berlin. Mama is trying to get Clara to agree to exchange the shares in K-Bahn that she would inherit, for my share in the apartment. Rada is saying that if the women can come to an agreement about the inheritance between them, and if there isn’t another claim, then they could settle out of court. Opa thinks this is the best idea.’ He blinked. ‘Mama is saying that she and I are planning to move to Berlin and that Papa created a job for me at K-Bahn before he died.’ He looked delighted. ‘First I know of it!’ But then something drew his head back to the tunnel, and he frowned, leaning right in. His body went rigid as he listened. He turned to Hal, looking shocked.

  ‘What? What is it?’

  Arnie didn’t reply. He was still listening, but his expression darkened and grew angry.

  ‘What’s happening?’

  Suddenly Arnold was surging towards him. He grabbed Hal by the scruff of the neck and pushed him against the wall. ‘Du warst es!’

  Hal felt a bolt of panic as Arnold’s hand wrapped round his neck. ‘What are you doing? What’s going on?’

  ‘You English,’ Arnold spat. ‘You think you’re so clever.’

  ‘I don’t understand!’

  ‘Aunt Freya and Rada worked out your father’s ugly scheme. They discovered the papers in Papa’s desk. Was it you who put the blood in my gloves, you little English?’ Arnie poked the side of Hal’s face aggressively. ‘You are broken in the head.’

  ‘WHAT? ’ Hal felt the shock of these words like a bucket of icy water. ‘I didn’t! I . . .’

  ‘They know.’ He pointed at the tunnel. ‘Rada has your father’s letters to my papa.’ Arnold let go of him and stepped back. ‘You better go downstairs and say goodbye. The police are downstairs, and they are arresting your father right now.’

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  SPANNER IN THE WORKS

  Hal threw himself down the stairs at a breakneck speed, but when he arrived the dining room was empty. He pelted through the house to the grand entrance. The front door was wide open. He saw white cars with flashing blue lights and Polizei on the side. The baron was talking with a police officer. Freya and Rada were getting into one of the cars with Belladonna. Uncle Nat was already sitting in the back of one with Oliver Essenbach. His head turned, and he saw Hal. Hal tried to shout, but he didn’t know whether to cry ‘Dad’ or ‘Uncle Nat’ and suddenly the cars were pulling away.

  ‘Harrison.’ Alma gently put her hand on his shoulder.

  ‘What’s happening? Why have they got my . . . dad?’

  ‘Nathaniel asked me to look after you while he helps the police with their enquiries.’ She turned him round. ‘Let’s go to the tower and find Hilda and Ozan.’

  As Alma guided him back into the house, Clara and Bertha came out of the library, glaring coldly at him, finally united by their disdain for Uncle Nat.

  ‘What happened?’ Hal asked Alma.

  ‘Freya believes your father and Alexander were trying to get Arnold to sell this house and the land. She says she has evidence that proves it. His signature is on letters to Alexander about the matter.’ Alma corralled him into the lift and pressed the button for the tower. ‘I’m sure there’s an explanation for everything. Wolfgang will take care of it. Now I must get back to Clara and Bertha. I think it best you stay in the tower with Hilda and Ozan for now.’

  Hal stepped out, turning to thank her, but the lift doors had closed.

  ‘What’s going on?’ Ozan asked from the turret window. ‘We saw the Polizei.’

  ‘Are you OK?’ Hilda was in a seat by the fire.

  ‘Where’s Herman?’ Hal asked.

  Ozan pointed to a curled-up lump in Herman’s bed.

  ‘He fell asleep after the bath,’ Hilda said softly. ‘Today was too much for him.’

  ‘Good.’ Hal ran up the spiral stairs, went to the window, reached into the model railway tunnel, switching on the red signal, then returned downstairs. He sat down on the edge of Hilda’s bed, taking off his glasses. ‘I need to tell you both something.’

  Ozan and Hilda came and sat down opposite him, immediately interested.

  ‘I am not who you think I am,’ Hal said. ‘I’m not related to you or Herman. I’ve been lying to you.’ He watched their expressions change. ‘My name is Harrison, and I do live in Crewe, but everything else is made up. My surname is not Strom, it’s Beck.’ Hilda opened her mouth to say something, then closed it. ‘The man I call dad is not Nathan Strom. His name is Nathaniel Bradshaw, and I am not his son – I’m his nephew.’

  ‘We’re not cousins?’ Ozan looked confused.

  Hal shook his head. “We’re not related, but I hope we are friends.’

  Ozan leaned back as if seeing Hal for the first time.

  ‘My uncle and I, we are . . . detectives. Your grandfather asked us to come, to investigate the strange occurrences surrounding Herman’s dad’s death. He didn’t want to involve the police. It was his idea that we disguise ourselves as distant relatives.’

  ‘You are detectives?’ Ozan asked.

  ‘Oh!’ Hilda j
umped to her feet and said to her brother. ‘He’s the railway detective boy! The one Opa told us solved the jewel-thief mystery on that steam train.’

  ‘Yes. That’s me.’

  ‘That’s why you’re always scribbling in your journal,’ Hilda exclaimed. ‘You’re not writing – you’re drawing!’

  ‘Drawing helps me think.’

  ‘Why are you telling us this now?’ Ozan asked.

  ‘Because I need your help. My uncle has been arrested and I think we all might be in danger.’

  Hilda gasped.

  ‘Freya and Rada think they’ve found evidence that proves my uncle is scheming to buy this house. Ozan, do you remember those papers we found in Alexander’s desk in the train carriage? Well, Bertha found them too, and thought they were from my uncle.’

  ‘But why might we be in danger?’ Hilda said, glancing at the sleeping Herman.

  ‘Because whoever put the blood in those gloves and sent rocks down on our sledge is still here.’ He looked from Hilda to Ozan. ‘We must all be detectives now.’

  ‘What should we do?’ Ozan said, seeing Hilda’s alarmed expression.

  ‘First, we need to get Arnold to tell us the truth about Frau Babelin’s curse.’

  ‘What are we waiting for?’ Hilda jumped to her feet.

  ‘Harrison,’ Ozan whispered as they hurried down the stairs, ‘what if putting the blood in the gloves and framing your uncle is all part of Freya and Rada’s plan?’

  ‘But why? What motive could Freya have?’

  ‘I don’t know . . . perhaps because they’re witches too?’ Ozan guessed.

  ‘Freya is not a witch – she’s a perfumier,’ Hal said, ‘and whoever put the blood in Herman’s gloves is a cold and calculating person.’

  At the bottom of the stairs, Hal put his finger to his lips as they tiptoed into the corridor that linked the family rooms. Loud rock music was blaring through the door of Arnie’s room and Hal grimaced, thinking of how angry Arnie was with him.

  Knocking gently at old Arnold’s door, they waited, but there was no answer. Hal tried again, putting his ear to the door, but he heard nothing. Taking a deep breath, Hal twisted the handle and opened the door.

  The large room was divided in two. One half was a living room where a unfinished jigsaw lay on a table, and beyond were the double doors that led though to the room of model trains. The other half was Arnold’s bedroom. Arnold’s wheelchair was parked beside a four-poster bed, and the old man was lying in it, his eyes closed.

  ‘What now?’ Ozan whispered.

  ‘We wake him up,’ Hal said, walking over to the bed. He cleared his throat. ‘Excuse me, Mr Kratzenstein.’ There was no response. Hal leaned over and shook his arm. ‘Mr Kratzenstein? Arnold?’ The old man’s head lolled to one side, but he didn’t wake, and Hal felt a lash of fear.

  ‘Is he . . . dead?’ Ozan whispered.

  ‘No.’ Hilda shook a pot of pills on the bedside table. ‘He’s sedated, look. He’s breathing.’

  Hal was so relieved to see the old man’s chest rise and fall that his legs went to jelly. He leaned on the wheelchair to steady himself.

  ‘We can’t question someone who is unconscious,’ said Ozan. ‘What now?’ He wandered over to the window. ‘Hey, it’s started snowing again.’

  Hal came and stood beside Ozan as tiny specks of snow drifted past the glass at a dreamlike pace. ‘Why is the train still there?’ He looked down at the halt. ‘I thought Aksel was putting it away.’

  ‘Look – boots.’ Ozan pointed to a rack by the door. He went and picked up the left foot of a pair of walking boots. ‘Have you still got that drawing of the footprint in the snow?’

  Hal took out his pocketbook and the photograph of the Stroms that the baron had included in his dossier fluttered to the floor. He picked it up as Ozan put Arnold’s boot beside his foot. They considered the difference in size, then turned the boot over to see the underside. The sole had the same markings as the footprint.

  ‘We have a match,’ Ozan said.

  ‘But Arnold can’t have climbed to the top of Dead Man’s Pass,’ Hilda protested.

  ‘Can’t he?’ Ozan said. ‘We all saw him walking at the funeral.’

  They all turned and looked at the sleeping man.

  ‘It could be hours before he wakes up,’ Hilda said. ‘We should ask Connie how long the sedative lasts.’

  ‘Good idea,’ Hal said, leaving the room and knocking on the door opposite. But there was no answer. ‘Where is everyone?’ he muttered, turning the handle and pushing the door open.

  ‘Are you sure this is hers?’ Hilda asked, as the three of them stared at the empty room. The bed was made. The surfaces were clear of possessions.

  Hal went to the wardrobe. Inside were hangers, but no clothes. He opened a door, which led to a bathroom. There was no toothbrush on the sink.

  He looked at the others. ‘She’s gone!’

  ‘Do you think the curse scared her away?’ Hilda asked.

  ‘She said she’d leave after the funeral,’ replied Hal, ‘but I didn’t realize she meant this quickly.’ He thought about the sweet nurse who’d warned him to leave Schloss Kratzenstein, then looked at the photo he was clutching and everything clicked into place. ‘Who do you think hired Connie to look after Arnold?’ he asked Hilda and Ozan as he hurried towards the stairs.

  ‘Bertha,’ said Hilda, at the same time as Ozan said, ‘Alexander.’ They stopped and stared at each other.

  ‘She came here six months ago to look after Arnold,’ Hal said, taking the stairs two at a time, ‘but does anyone know where she was before that?’

  ‘Bertha must know,’ Hilda said. ‘She would have interviewed the nurses. There must have been references.’

  ‘Except Alma told me that Bertha was upset because Alexander had hired Connie to look after Arnold. She felt she was being pushed out of the family.’

  ‘Yes, it was Alexander who hired her,’ Ozan said. ‘I heard that.’

  ‘But Clara said it was Bertha who’d hired Connie, and that Alexander had been cross about it.’

  ‘Then who did hire Connie?’ Hilda squeaked, looking alarmed.

  ‘No one,’ Hal said, sprinting through the salon, and out on to the platform, where the funeral train was still standing. ‘And Arnold couldn’t have climbed Dead Man’s Pass, but Connie had access to his boots.’

  ‘Slow down,’ Ozan gasped, catching up to Hal who had stopped and was staring at the train.

  ‘That train should not be there,’ he said. ‘Aksel was going to put it away. Where is he?’

  The children searched the courtyard, calling Aksel’s name.

  ‘His rooms are across the tracks.’ Ozan pointed. ‘He lives above the sheds.’

  They ran round the engine, which was squirting out little jets of steam, and banged on the door to Aksel’s room. There was no answer. They shouted up at the windows, but they were dark, and no lights came on.

  ‘Do you think Aksel knows where Connie is?’ Ozan asked.

  ‘They could be together,’ Hilda said. ‘Remember his locket?’

  ‘This isn’t getting us anywhere,’ Hal said, frustrated. ‘Let’s check the train shed.’

  They hurried along the tracks, snow swirling in their faces. It was beginning to get dark, and Hal saw a lantern on in the workshop.

  ‘There he is!’ Ozan pointed, and they all saw a figure dressed in a white shirt and suit trousers, leaning forward over a trolley of tools.

  Hal burst into a sprint, seeing what the others had not. Aksel wasn’t moving.

  ‘Aksel?’ Hal reached the door and saw a small puddle of blood on the floor. He put up his hand, to prevent Hilda and Ozan from rushing forward. There was a spanner on the ground, tossed down. It too had blood on it. It had been used to hit Aksel. ‘Don’t touch that.’ He pointed at the spanner. ‘It might have fingerprints on it.’

  Leaning over Aksel, Hal could see his hair was matted and sticky with blood. He took a deep breath and put
his fingers to the man’s neck. To his intense relief, it was warm, and he could feel a pulse. ‘He’s alive!’

  ‘He’s badly hurt,’ Hilda said. ‘We must help him.’

  There was a groan, and Aksel moved a little. Careful to avoid the spanner and the blood, Hilda knelt down so her face was close to his and put a hand on his arm. ‘Aksel, hör mir zu. Du bist verletzt. Jemand hat dir auf den Kopf geschlagen.’

  ‘She’s explaining that someone has hit him,’ Ozan said to Hal.

  Aksel gripped on to the trolley of tools, lifting his head, staring at the three children and then looking around the shed. They watched him in silence.

  ‘Wo ist die Dampfmaschine?’ His strangled whisper suggested he was in a lot of pain.

  ‘He wants to know where the steam engine is,’ Ozan said.

  ‘Immer noch vor dem Haus, auf den Schienen,’ Hilda said in a sweet reassuring voice.

  ‘NEIN!’ Aksel turned to Hal, his dark eyes wild with panic. ‘Der Kessel hat kein Wasser!’ He tried to stand up, but wobbled, blinked and slumped back down.

  ‘What’s he saying?’ Hal grabbed Hilda’s arm. ‘What’s he saying?’

  ‘He says the boiler has no water.’ Hilda looked at Hal. ‘What does that mean?’

  ‘Er wird explodieren!’ Aksel cried.

  But Hal was already running back towards the house as fast as he could.

  CHAPTER THIRTY

  CLASS 99 BOMB

  A blizzard of questions swirled through Hal’s brain as he sprinted towards the house. Where was Connie? Had she hit Aksel? Why was the train still in the station? He drew in great gulps of air as he ran, choking on flakes of snow, which were falling faster now.

  The steaming black locomotive was facing him as he hared through the archway, Schloss Kratzenstein towering above him. Hal threw himself across the courtyard and up the steps to the platform, running to the heavy iron coupling joint between the locomotive and the carriages, wrestling with it, trying to unhook them from the engine.