Read Online Henry Wood: Time and Again: by Brian Meeks - Free Book Online

of the restaurant seemed to fade away.
    He didn't even notice the priest eating alone in the corner, or that he seemed to be watching them.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Fifteen
     
    Dr. Schaeffer and Hans had been enjoying some maultasche, a traditional Swabian dish made with an outer layer of pasta dough and filled with minced meat, a bit of smoked meat, bread crumbs, and onions. They look similar to Italian ravioli, but to Dr. Schaeffer, they were a reminder of his nanny's cooking when he was a boy.
    The conversation was sparse, as both men were enjoying their meal, the beer, and Wagner playing in the background. They preferred to savor the food. The talk would come later.
    To most people, the knock at the door would have gone unnoticed with Der Fliegende Hollander playing, but the exceptional ears of Dr. Schaeffer heard the three taps clearly. Soft feet treaded down the hallway, the door opened, and an envelope was handed to the woman. She said nothing, giving only a nod. The woman walked to the dining room and cleared her throat.
    “Herr Doctor, a message.”
    He motioned her over and received the envelope. “Ick danke Ihnen”. He didn’t read it.
    “Hans, how was your day, my friend?”
    “It was productive. I selected three possible candidates, though I must admit, even the most highly regarded one has an air of seediness about him. If there were more time, I might reject them all, but as it stands, Mr. Henry Wood seems our best choice. I'm to meet his associates at noon, day after tomorrow.”
    “Did he strike you as the sort who can keep a secret?”
    “Yes, I believe he can. I'm going to reserve final judgment until after the meeting. Tomorrow, I'll visit the other two candidates, as neither was available today.”
    “That is excellent, Hans. I’m quite pleased. Now, let's see what the padre has to say.” Dr. Schaeffer stood up and went to the sideboard, opened the top drawer, and removed a silver letter opener. With surgical precision, he sliced the envelope open. Removing the letter, he sat back down. From his jacket pocket, he retrieved his reading glasses, set them on his nose, and began to read aloud.
     
    Doctor,
     
    This letter is a courtesy. There is a rumor that someone is looking into the people interested in the wares I offer. Anonymity is of the utmost concern for all of my clients, so I felt obligated to make you aware of this situation. The upcoming auction date has not been set. I'm inclined to put it on ice until this is resolved. I will not tolerate anyone messing about in my, or my clients’, affairs.
     
    Sincerely,
     
    The Curator
     
    Dr. Schaeffer returned the letter to the envelope. “This is an interesting turn. I wonder who might have…” He faded off at the end. A brief silence followed.
    “Shall I keep our meeting with Mr. Wood?”
    There was another long silence. Dr. Schaeffer, standing up, walked slowly around the room, thinking. The needle on the Wagner was lifted. He bit the tip off of a cigar, lit it, and continued to pace back and forth.
    Hans knew his routine and sat quietly, drinking his beer. The next move would come to his boss shortly.
    “I believe you should,” Dr Schaeffer said and added, “If the meeting goes well, pay him the retainer, and explain that he will be receiving further instructions at a later date, but to be ready at a moment’s notice.”
    “Very good. Are there any other tasks for me?”
    “Not right now, my friend. Do you have time for a game of chess?”
    “I do, if you let me play white, and agree not to play the French Defense. I'm tired of losing to that opening.”
    “Agreed. I shall start with c4.“
    They played the first eight moves verbally while they walked to the study. Hans then considered whether he should try something new. He chose bishop to c4, not knowing if the doctor knew the variation.
    Across the city, envelopes were being delivered to four other homes and one hotel.
     

 
     
     
    Chapter Sixteen
     
    Father Patrick