Read Online A Matter of Breeding by J. Sydney Jones - Free Book Online
Authors: J. Sydney Jones
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the truth can only help, not hurt him.’
She said nothing for a moment.
‘So, will you?’ Franz Ferdinand said. ‘Will you be my eyes and ears in this matter? It all goes to Piber,’ he added. ‘I am convinced of that.’
Piber, in Styria, was, Berthe knew, home to a major stud farm for the cavalry of the Austro-Hungarian Army. It was also, if she remembered correctly, headquarters of Premium Breeds.
Part Two
Nine
‘I wonder …’ Gross suddenly said mid-bite of his breakfast
kipferl
.
Werthen and Stoker exchanged glances. They had been speaking of inconsequential matters: the state of the weather (rather mild for this late in the year) and the level of culinary delights to be found at the Hotel Daniel (subterranean). But Gross’s non sequitur interjection ended such mundane pursuits, for it was patently obvious that the great criminalist was wondering about the case at hand and not about the quality of today’s
kipferl
.
‘Do share, Gross,’ Werthen prompted.
‘I had a loathsome sleep last night,’ Gross said. ‘Or rather non-sleep. I just kept going over and over in my head who I might have wronged that they should attempt such barbarous revenge.’
Gross rubbed his large hand over his face. Werthen thought that he indeed did look the worse for wear this morning: grey smudged the bags under his eyes.
‘It may be some totally different motive, Gross—’ Werthen began, but his former mentor cut him off.
‘Of course it may. You don’t think I know that? Nonetheless, I was plagued all last night with a rogue’s gallery of faces that might have some reason to want to destroy my good name. Criminals, lawyers, and other supine forms of low life who may have been defeated by me in the past.’
‘I thank you for that,’ said Werthen, a former defense attorney himself and, as such, often routed by Gross.
But Gross was, as usual, beyond paying attention to other mortals.
‘Why, Inspector Thielman himself might very well have laid all this on for me, tired of being the man Gross trained. Not a resonant legacy for a proud ex-military man. He has always been simply competent in his job, never a standout. Could he be harboring feelings of jealousy all these years? Who better to have left the trail of clues from my own writing at the scenes of these crimes than Thielman? He was the very man to request my assistance.’
‘Thielman?’ Werthen said with a degree of incredulity, but Gross charged on.
‘And so I wonder about others. And it just struck me that Herr Doktor Reininger of the Munich courts sent me a most unpleasant letter following publication of my
Criminal Investigations.
The fellow had the temerity to accuse me of pilfering his footprint analysis technique for my book. Footprints!’
He nearly shouted this last word, which brought the muffle of voices and clacking of cutlery against china to an abrupt halt in the busy dining room. All eyes were suddenly on their table, and Werthen, as so many times in the past, felt compelled to somehow apologize or at least indirectly offer an explanation for Gross’s odd behavior.
‘Well, footprints do serve as the groundwork of investigation,’ he said rather more loudly than he usually spoke in public spaces. The pun brougtht a slight chuckle from Stoker, but was met by a contemptuous look from Gross.
‘Whatever is the matter with you this morning, Werthen? Has the country air quite addled your thought processes? This is no time for adolescent humor.’
The eyes were still on their table and now Gross turned to the other diners.
‘Don’t you all have something better to chew on at breakfast than gossip?’
After an awkward silence, the room once again returned to its normal hum of activity.
‘As I was saying,’ Gross continued, ‘Herr Doktor Reininger was most uncivil. I believe I saved his letter someplace.’
‘Gross,’ Werthen said, his cheeks still stinging as if Gross’s remark to him were an actual slap, ‘it is not often I
She said nothing for a moment.
‘So, will you?’ Franz Ferdinand said. ‘Will you be my eyes and ears in this matter? It all goes to Piber,’ he added. ‘I am convinced of that.’
Piber, in Styria, was, Berthe knew, home to a major stud farm for the cavalry of the Austro-Hungarian Army. It was also, if she remembered correctly, headquarters of Premium Breeds.
Part Two
Nine
‘I wonder …’ Gross suddenly said mid-bite of his breakfast
kipferl
.
Werthen and Stoker exchanged glances. They had been speaking of inconsequential matters: the state of the weather (rather mild for this late in the year) and the level of culinary delights to be found at the Hotel Daniel (subterranean). But Gross’s non sequitur interjection ended such mundane pursuits, for it was patently obvious that the great criminalist was wondering about the case at hand and not about the quality of today’s
kipferl
.
‘Do share, Gross,’ Werthen prompted.
‘I had a loathsome sleep last night,’ Gross said. ‘Or rather non-sleep. I just kept going over and over in my head who I might have wronged that they should attempt such barbarous revenge.’
Gross rubbed his large hand over his face. Werthen thought that he indeed did look the worse for wear this morning: grey smudged the bags under his eyes.
‘It may be some totally different motive, Gross—’ Werthen began, but his former mentor cut him off.
‘Of course it may. You don’t think I know that? Nonetheless, I was plagued all last night with a rogue’s gallery of faces that might have some reason to want to destroy my good name. Criminals, lawyers, and other supine forms of low life who may have been defeated by me in the past.’
‘I thank you for that,’ said Werthen, a former defense attorney himself and, as such, often routed by Gross.
But Gross was, as usual, beyond paying attention to other mortals.
‘Why, Inspector Thielman himself might very well have laid all this on for me, tired of being the man Gross trained. Not a resonant legacy for a proud ex-military man. He has always been simply competent in his job, never a standout. Could he be harboring feelings of jealousy all these years? Who better to have left the trail of clues from my own writing at the scenes of these crimes than Thielman? He was the very man to request my assistance.’
‘Thielman?’ Werthen said with a degree of incredulity, but Gross charged on.
‘And so I wonder about others. And it just struck me that Herr Doktor Reininger of the Munich courts sent me a most unpleasant letter following publication of my
Criminal Investigations.
The fellow had the temerity to accuse me of pilfering his footprint analysis technique for my book. Footprints!’
He nearly shouted this last word, which brought the muffle of voices and clacking of cutlery against china to an abrupt halt in the busy dining room. All eyes were suddenly on their table, and Werthen, as so many times in the past, felt compelled to somehow apologize or at least indirectly offer an explanation for Gross’s odd behavior.
‘Well, footprints do serve as the groundwork of investigation,’ he said rather more loudly than he usually spoke in public spaces. The pun brougtht a slight chuckle from Stoker, but was met by a contemptuous look from Gross.
‘Whatever is the matter with you this morning, Werthen? Has the country air quite addled your thought processes? This is no time for adolescent humor.’
The eyes were still on their table and now Gross turned to the other diners.
‘Don’t you all have something better to chew on at breakfast than gossip?’
After an awkward silence, the room once again returned to its normal hum of activity.
‘As I was saying,’ Gross continued, ‘Herr Doktor Reininger was most uncivil. I believe I saved his letter someplace.’
‘Gross,’ Werthen said, his cheeks still stinging as if Gross’s remark to him were an actual slap, ‘it is not often I
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