”Do you recognize this picture, Ludwig?”
Ludwig had no idea.
”This represents the sky on December 25. The day that Jesus was said to have been born, the same birthday as Horus in Egypt whose birth story is several thousand years older.”
August pointed to the three coins that were together.
”These three coins depict a constellation of Orion's belt, the next coin here depicts the Sirius Star and this large coin far away is the Sun.”
August drew a finger over the coins from Orion's belt to the Sun.
”This is what happens on December 25. The three coins in Orion's belt point to Sirius, which in turn points to the Sun. Around December 25 is the Winter Solstice, and it is the beginning of spring and salvation. That's when the days are getting longer.”
”What does that have to do with Jesus?”
”Because the birth of Jesus is a copy of this astro-theology course of events that goes back to the Egyptian story which is the original.”
”How so?”
”Do you know what the constellation with the three stars in Orion's belt is called?”
”No idea.”
”They are called the Three Kings.”
Ludwig began to understand.
”And what happens on December 25 is that the Three Kings settles in line with Sirius, also known as the Star of the East, which points to the Sun and the winter solstice. That is why we say that the three kings or the three wise men, follow the Star of the East to the Savior, that is the Sun. The Jesus birth is no more than a copy of this ancient process that lots of birth stories of gods throughout history have copied, for example the god Mithra who was worshiped in Persia 1200 BC. is also born 25 December, and Dionysus and Attis in Greek mythology. In fact, all these gods with Jesus share the same characteristics. They are all born December 25, virgin-born, crucified, dead for 3 days and resurrected. After all, think about the name of the day that you worship Jesus, it´s called SUNday.”
”But that just means that Horus is part of the same lie.”
”No, not at all. It's all based on Horus. He is the oldest of them all, the original. Then if he actually was a god, one can discuss. But he and also Thoth knew the Truth that Thoth recorded in his book in the Theatre. Therefore, they were considered in all cases as gods because of their power and then other religions have tried to copy their stories.”
Ludwig didn´t respond.
Ludwig had for a while tried to imagine how the Theatre looked but did not come up with anything. The alpine passes leveled out into a flat land when the train had traveled well into Italy. It passed Bolzano and Trento. Rolling hills replaced the mountaintops. Goats ran frightened by train down the slopes. Finally Ludwig asked.
”Have you any idea how the Theatre looks like, is it large, is it like a stage at a normal theatre?”
He could not help but take an interest in the Theatre, despite the situation they were in.
”The first mistake one makes is probably to assume that it looks like a conventional Theatre with seating for audience, stage and curtain. I have of course not seen it but I understand it is up built around five walls filled with frescoes, five gates, with a central location in the middle where Thoth´s book is immersed in an altar in an unbreakable coffin.”
The rat Face with the Financial Times put down the newspaper. He folded it neatly and placed it on the seat between August and himself. He excused himself and walked out of the cabin.
He had a long black cloak covering the entire body from neck to toe. Under his arm he carried a red notebook with a cross on. His coat made his face look even more long. Ludwig saw something sticking up under the collar of his coat on his neck. It looked like a tattoo, something patchy red. There were a few streaks resembling the legs of a dog.
Ludwig looked out the window. They approached Florence.
He packed down the computer. To lighten the mood, he asked August jokingly if he brought any travel chess. He got the old man to smile.
*
”Matteo, it is Luca.”
Luca was standing next to the lock between two carriages. He clung to a handle that sat on the trailer door.
”Have you found them?”
”Yes.”
”Do they have the Four-Leaf Clover with them?”
”It's possible. They have a bag with them where it may is.”
”Good. Take the bag and make sure they do not follow. Meet me at the flower shop on the east side of Santa Maria Novella.”
*
Ludwig saw when the rat face came back into the cabin again. Luca took up the Financial Times from the seat next August. He flipped to an article that was about the Iacobi Investment Group and their increasing dominance in cloud services and their integration into the iOS and Android systems. He looked curiously at August.
”Forgive me, but are you Mr. August Iacobi?”
August had suffered being recognized many times before and he thought less about it every time it happened.
”That's right.”
”What's funny, I was just reading an article here about cloud services in computing, something I know very little about, and here you are, sitting next to me. What a coincidence. My name is Luca Frangipani and I'm the agent for Bugatti in southern Germany and Austria. It is a great honor to meet such a great business man.”
They shook hands.
”Tell me, cloud services, it's the future?”
August knew he would not get rid of him until they came to Florence. It was just as well to be polite.
”The future, yes, that´s the billion dollar question.”
While August was talking Luca reached his hand into his left coat pocket which was facing the door, and from August and Ludwig. He picked up a spring baton6 and held it discreetly at his side.
”As for storage, that will likely be increasingly moved into the clouds. We have realized that local clients are vulnerable, we see that not least from Google, which also invests in a cloud operating system.”
Luca bobbed his arm and coughed. The spring baton full length was out.
”I apologize. I have a really stubborn summer cold.”
”No problem.”
Luca put down the Financial Times in the seat again. Angled his arm so that the circular arm movement would meet August on the frontal bone. August continued.
”So we'll see, it will go in that direction anyway. How's Bugatti doing, I had one a lot of years ago but I sold it. I thought it was too ostentatious.”
Luca flexed his arm and lifted it slightly so it ended up in the right position.
He stared at August. He pressed his teeth together, and buckled cheekbones.
A beep and a vibration were heard from Luca´s inside pocket.
”It´s best to see what that is, don´t want to keep anyone waiting”, said August glad to get rid of the conversation.
Luca smiled and apologized again. It was Matteo who sent a text message.
Abort Luca. We cannot risk that they do not have the Four-Leaf Clover on them. We follow where they go.
Luca went off on the next station.
*
Kunsthistorisches Museum
Vienna
It was midnight. Loretta asked if Max wanted something to drink. They were left alone at the central outside Saal XIII. He shook his head. He had for the hundredth time gone through the security videos. Max was stuck on a sequence in which he tried to find out who the other person was, who helped Karl Feigl. They had so far only identified Karl Feigl by finger-print.
Loretta turned to ask one last time as she watched the scene Max looked on. She walked closer. Reluctantly, she stood behind Max.
She asked him to run it again. It was a CCTV feed and the resolution was not so good but Loretta could see. For her, it was very clear and it would have been clear for all who knew August.
”Is there anything special?” asked Max.
Loretta gathered herself. Shook her head. Went to a colleague's of
fice. Started his computer.
The sequence showed when one of the thieves suddenly looked up at a camera under the hood of his caftan. It was very difficult to see anything at all, but if you knew the person it was easy.
Loretta went into mtnsms.com. She swore loudly and boiled with rage. She typed in a phone number and wrote a sms that would not be traceable to her.
Damn you! /L
37
Kunsthistorisches Museum, Vienna
June 16
Alexander Wagner was the first to arrive at the central in the morning. He had to Lisa's great annoyance slipped away before Julia woke up. He had gone to the hospital and sat with Felix for an hour and read a magazine. Had a hand on his arm.
He talked to the doctor and found out that it didn´t look good. Even though he woke from the coma now and again, three times in recent weeks. Even if Felix woke up, he would be completely stripped of his senses. Presumably, other brain damage also. Alexander nodded and swallowed. He had realized that a few months ago. The hope had since then dropped like a stone. Now he was completely certain. He would never get his son back.
It was calm in the central. He checked the messages from Nora Smith, if she had picked up something from the other EU countries police forces. She had not. Max had compared the descriptions of the fake guards at the City Hall Offices with Karl Feigl and the two thieves on the feed from Saal XIII, but they had not been consistent.
He stood in front of the bulletin board with all the names. Karl Feigl was not one of the guests.
”How did you get in, Karl Feigl”, he said quietly to himself.
He wondered if he might have worked with the guards, if they had let him in. But it did not tune in really. In every which way he though, Feigl was a ghost. He did not appear on any security video at all except for the theft itself.
In the small hours he had put Max to check through the videos after the man in the caftan. But even at the loading dock the figure had no appeared. All halls that led to the Saal XIII had cameras. They covered in virtually every angle albeit low resolution. The halls leading to the rooms that led to Saal XIII also had CCTV systems.
Alexander went through the halls, looking for possible ways to get in undetected. He couldn´t think of any way.
An hour later the phone rang from the police switchboard. An autopsy technician wanted to speak to Mr. Wagner. Alexander wondered what such a person wanted with him. He accepted the call.
”Hello, my name is Richard Steiner. I'm calling from Saint Joseph Krankenhaus.”
”How can I help you, Mr. Steiner?”
”Well, it is, rather like this, I can help you.”
”Really?”
Numerous were those who tried to tip the police. Most of them had no idea what they were talking about. They saw their chance to get into the news. Warm inside that their tip had led to something, even if it was astray. Wagner suspected that this was such a call.
”I saw on CNN last night and the images of that suspect Karl Feigl.”
”Yes, do you know where he is?” asked Alexander somewhat tired as he started up Max computers.
”Yes, I do.”
Wagner suddenly listened with some attention.
”Where?”
”He is next to me here.”
Alexander realized that the man was an autopsy technician.
”What do you mean ... Is he dead?”
”In the highest degree.”
It went fast, thought Wagner. He must have died in an accident on his way out. It had happened before and would happen again.
”I thought it was a bit strange so I checked up the personal number7 with one that I got hold of from the police. And it was the same man, the deceased's domicile was on Krugerstrasse.”
Alexander was skeptical.
”He died in a car accident or something like that?”
”No, it was a heart attack.”
”Really”, said Wagner surprised.
He thought about it. It could not be possible. They could not be so lucky.
”Richard Steiner was your name?”
”That's right.”
”Give me the number for St. Joseph Krankenhaus. I'm not in the mood to be fooled.”
They hung up. Alexander did a search of the number on the computer. It checked out, it went to the hospital. He rang up and got hold of Richard Steiner, who indeed worked there as an autopsy technician.
After a few minutes Alexander realized something. He got really annoyed because he had seen advancement in the investigation for a second, but now it was completely gone. He reluctantly asked the question. Somewhere, he knew that the answer was not what he wanted to hear.
”When did Mr. Feigl die?”
”I've had him with me for a few weeks.”
Wagner sank down on a chair and tried to hold back his anger.
Mr. Steiner continued.
”We are just waiting for a certain Mr. Iacobi to confirm the deceased's identity, that we have been uncertain of, but it´s just a formality, really. We just tagged him with numbers and an assumed name. Therefore, we have not yet issued a final death certificate. A mere formality but it was a little unfortunate, given your investigation.”
Alexander thanked Mr. Steiner.
He threw away the phone on one of the tables. Today's first order of business would be to inform the press that their main suspect had been dead for a few weeks. If there was anything that made Alexander real mad, it was being scammed.
*
The taxi turned onto a square on Via del Pian d'Ovile in Siena. August and Ludwig got out and stood up against the warm morning. The almost twelve hour trip felt in the legs.
The Siena Cathedral wasn´t going to open for another two hours. On the piazza in front of them three men sat exhausted on wooden chairs and smoked. A few tourists were in sight. The sign windows8 were over cluttered with souvenirs a few steps from Piazza del Campo.
On a side street, they found a small bar. The TV was on and showed a replay of a few years old match between Inter and Siena. A woman in a pantsuit was leaning over the counter with a bag over her shoulder. She drank coffee and chatted with the barista and another man who ate bread marinated in olive oil. August and Ludwig sat down at a table.
”Do you see anything you like, Ludwig?” August was talking behind his menu.
Ludwig shook his head. He was not hungry. The sandwich he had eaten when they were waiting for a taxi at the Santa Maria Novella train station was still satisfying.
”It's a bit early but I will order some antipasto and mineral waters.”
The sausages came in after a while. It was a white platter with prosciutto crudo, bresaola and Italian salami.
”This you´re going to like, Ludwig. Tuck into now. We must not deny us the food. We need the energy.”
Ludwig thought that August was trying to befriend him. He would not allow himself to be manipulated.
August looked at the clock. Ludwig didn´t touch the sausages. He looked at the August and said.
”August. I have thought of another thing. How is it that you have the Corpus Thoth Fraternitatis and the pamphlets?”
”We will discuss that another time Ludwig.”
August took a sip of mineral water and watched Inter. Ibrahimovic had the ball. He made a quick turnaround and held the ball, shutting out the defender.
After a while August changed his mind and figured it could not hurt if Ludwig found out a little more. The more he knew about the Brotherhood and the Theatre, the more help he would be.
”Ok, fair enough, Ludwig. Victoria's family owned the Ruotkerspurch for many generations before I bought it from them to help with their financial problems. When the coffin, that you have seen in Victoria´s chambers, was brought out of Rome it was taken there and have been there ever since.”
”But how is it that it was brought there?”
”Thoth´s Brotherhood arranged it.”
Ludwig thought about it and then said.
&nb
sp; ”Was anyone in Victoria's family a member of the Brotherhood?”
August hesitated but nevertheless considered that it was harmless.
”In fact, Victoria's grandfather's grandfather discovered the coffin and revived the Brotherhood in the mid-1800s after it went obsolete in the early 1600's as far as we know. Victoria was even herself a member of Thoth´s Brotherhood, they accept women now.”
”Huh? Are they still alive? ”
”Yes, very much. But there is no rebel activity directly, I can promise you”. August smiled. ”It's just quiet dinners every now and then with a mix of people. Thoth´s Brotherhood is not what it once was. The fact is that none of the current society has a clue where the Theatre is. It has been forgotten. It's mostly an excuse to get together and go to fancy dinners, I'm afraid. Some of the members pride themselves of being members of some sort of a secret society which has knowledge unavailable to the outside world but they´re just foolish in my book. A lot of research has been done through the years in the Corpus without much success. Yeah, I guess that Victoria has been the most successful since she found out where the Four-Leaf Clover was.”
”Are you a member?”
”No, because of my profession, I have never officially joined because I don´t want to invite the media to that party if it came up. It was enough that I was on a harmless Bilderberg group meeting a few years ago when a lot of conspiracy theories went off like wildfire through the media.”
Ludwig wondered if he should ask or not. He decided that he should.
”I have to ask, it's your belief that if you manage to find the Theatre, you will see Victoria again?”
August looked at him as if he was looking at a fool. Without trembling, he said.
”Without a doubt. You should know Ludwig, and I hear your skepticism that I'm starting to tire from, that I am one of the most successful businessmen of all time. There are not many who can match me and what I have built. To find men worthy of comparison you need to go and look at the graves after Kreuger, de Geer, JP Morgan, Rothschild in the 1800s, Boulton, Rockefeller, Sixtus IV, Crassus. And I say this not to brag, but because it is a fact. The truth is that these men and I have had a unique ability to read the world. But like many of them, I know my limitations. In the Theatre something exists beyond our limits, beyond the world we can read. Something that we with today's knowledge cannot explain and therefore dismisses as nonsense.”