The Archduke was clearly moved, Werthen could see, even reverting to the stuttering of his youth, a condition that he had largely cured, along with tuberculosis, as a young man during the course of an around-the-world voyage.
‘You say you had suspicions of foul play, your Highness,’ Gross said. ‘May I ask why?’
‘Of course,’ the Archduke said, seeming to find cheer now that a decision had been made. ‘That is part of why I brought you here today. You of course know that our empire is protected by two intelligence services, one military and one, shall we say, civilian.’
Werthen and Gross nodded.
‘One would hope that such services would cooperate with one another, would act in the best interests of the country. Unfortunately, that is not always the case. Petty jealousies and feuds intrude.’
‘You mean,’ Gross said, ‘there is a battle for primacy between the General Staff’s Intelligence Bureau and the Foreign Office.’
‘Precisely,’ Franz Ferdinand said. ‘Only, the Foreign Office officially has no such agency.’
‘A deadly battle?’ Werthen asked.
‘I was hoping you gentlemen could answer that question. If, as you suspect, Joachim was poisoned, then I hope you will follow all possible avenues of inquiry.’
The Archduke’s response sent a chill down Werthen’s back. It was one thing to jockey for position and pride of place, but quite another to kill a member of the opposing side and fellow countryman simply out of interagency pique. Treason might not be too harsh a word to describe such actions.
‘I shall once again provide quiet support,’ Franz Ferdinand said, nodding toward the stoically silent bodyguard, Duncan. ‘But you of course understand that such an investigation is not without risk to those asking the questions.’
Neither Werthen nor Gross spoke for a moment.
‘I would quite understand if you refused such a commission. In which case, this conversation never took place.’
‘But of course we accept-’ Gross began.
‘I need to consider this,’ Werthen said quickly, interrupting him.
‘Sensible of you, to be sure,’ Franz Ferdinand said. ‘With a child and wife, a man has responsibilities. Perhaps you wish to discuss it with Frau Meisner first. I would do the same with my wife.’
Franz Ferdinand’s knowledge of his private life did not surprise Werthen. Indeed, there was most probably a third intelligence network at work in Austria that the Archduke did not mention: his own.
‘I will have my driver return you to your respective abodes. Shall we say Monday, then? That should give you sufficient time to make an informed decision. At that point we can discuss your fee.’
‘Fine,’ Gross muttered, obviously displeased at Werthen’s delay.
‘Yes, most obliging, your Highness,’ Werthen said.
As they were about to take their leave, Franz Ferdinand fixed them again with his startlingly blue eyes.
‘As a sign of trust, I would like to pass on certain information. I am sure it will go no further.’
‘Yes?’ Werthen said.
‘It concerns your wife, Herr Advokat. It comes to my attention that she has been keeping watch on one Baron Arthur Gundaccar von Suttner.’
Werthen felt a sudden protective heat at this and blurted out, ‘And just how has this come to your attention?’
Werthen’s sharp tone made Duncan stir.
‘Do not misunderstand me, Advokat Werthen. This is not some sort of veiled threat. Rather it is offered more in the hope of reciprocity, tit for possible tat. I know what your wife and her young friend — I believe she is your legal secretary? — are doing because, as I understand it, our intelligence service is also thus engaged.’
Just as Gross had surmised, Werthen thought.
‘Baroness von Suttner is a client,’ Werthen said flatly.
Franz Ferdinand raised his eyebrows. ‘And has engaged you to investigate her husband?’
‘That is privileged information, your Highness.’
‘Werthen,’ Gross began, ‘perhaps-’
‘No, your colleague is correct, Doktor Gross. Private Inquiries is the business you are engaged in, and such inquiries should remain private.’
‘Are you warning us off von Suttner?’ Werthen said, tired now of politesse.
‘Not at all. I simply supply this information. You do with it as you see fit.’
‘Is Frau von Suttner such a threat to the empire?’
‘Pacifism is a powerful message. For my part, I rather like it that she organizes for peace, that there is a voice against the rush to war. But there are others who are not quite so broad-minded.’
‘Thank you for this information, your Highness. It confirms what we already suspected. You might also tell whichever intelligence service is at work that their man needs a refresher course in tradecraft. My wife spotted him within ten minutes.’
‘What do you make of that?’ Gross said, as they climbed on to the passenger bench of the Archduke’s horseless carriage.
But Private Porsche then joined them and there was no further chance for discussion.
‘Where to first, gentlemen?’ the driver asked.
‘You had best come to the country house for the weekend,’ Werthen said. ‘We need to talk things over.’
Gross did not demur at this invitation. After stopping briefly at Gross’s hotel, where he packed a valise, Porsche drove them, mostly in silence, back to Laab im Walde.
En route, Werthen had time to mull over their meeting with Franz Ferdinand. It was apparent to Werthen that the Archduke had a special relationship with the Foreign Office, or at least with Gross’s old schoolmate, Minister Brockhurst. It was obviously Brockhurst who let Franz Ferdinand know about their investigation of von Ebersdorf’s death. But it also appeared that Brockhurst was perhaps prudishly less than forthcoming about the reason for their interest: Werthen did not think Franz Ferdinand was feigning surprise when he learned that Fräulein Mitzi was a prostitute.
‘Beautiful countryside,’ the private said once they reached the farm. ‘I intend to buy myself such a place once I have made my first million.’
Standing in the drive, Gross clucked disapprovingly as Porsche put the motorcar into gear and sped off back down the country lane.
‘Jumped-up carriage driver,’ he muttered.
‘Ambition, Gross. The mainspring of the new century. I’d put my money on that private making a million.’
Another plosive sound of disgust from Gross.
They were not able to discuss matters until Frieda had been put to sleep at eight that evening, complaining that it was still light outside and time to play. The complaints were short-lived.
Now they were gathered at the dining table.
‘Why would he tell you that?’ Berthe said, for out of all the startling information imparted by Franz Ferdinand, she had fixed on his revelation that Frau von Suttner was being watched.
‘He made it fairly clear,’ Werthen said. He poured himself a measure of slivowitz and offered the bottle to Berthe and Gross, both of whom declined. ‘It was a sort of fair exchange. He hopes we take the von Ebersdorf matter forward.’
‘Well, hadn’t you planned to anyway?’
‘On a practical level,’ Werthen said, ‘we have no reason to. After all, Frau Mutzenbacher has dispensed with our services, and the death of von Ebersdorf was important to us only as it might or might not be connected with that of Fräulein Mitzi.’ He paused, and added, ‘Also, we were unaware of certain facts before — such as the possible involvement of feuding intelligence agencies.’
‘Such an investigation can be dangerous,’ said Gross, ‘just as the Archduke implied.’
During the course of the day Gross had obviously given some thought to the matter and now saw it somewhat more from Werthen’s point of view and the need to protect his wife and child. It pleased Werthen to see his old friend taking others into consideration and he cast him a warm smile.
‘After all,’ Gross added, ‘my good lady wife, Adele, must be consulted. She relies on me. I must think of my safety as it affects her.’