“We will see what he is able to learn from those he knows,” he added, but I knew there was more.
“And?”
“A man who wants something can be verra motivated.”
“Such as?”
“A man who wants to join his family.”
That wasn’t difficult to determine.
“Karl Schneider.” Schmidt’s brother-in-law.
Brodie nodded. “He may not be able to help, however it’s always good to have another source for information just to be certain.”
Most particularly in a place where he didn’t have his usual resources, I thought. And then there was that experience from his time with the MET.
I was starving. “I’ll work on my notes and then order up supper.”
“Aye, best to keep here until we have word from Wagner,” he replied. “With the cost of the room, I can only imagine what supper will be.”
Spoken like a true Scot. That reputation for thriftiness was well deserved.
“You needn’t worry about the additional expense,” I told him.
“I canna imagine that Sir Avery will be forthcoming?”
“Most hotels in large cities have the ability to make banking available for their guests. I’ve used such arrangements in the past.”
There was a frown. “Ye know I dinna want ye using yer own funds. I can handle the expenses over what Sir Avery provided.”
I was aware of that. “Nevertheless. You may repay me when we return to London.”
He made that typically Scottish sound as he left the room, the door snapping shut after him.
I took advantage of running water in the adjoining bathroom, then dressed once more, and went to the writing desk in the sitting room.
Brodie and supper arrived very near the same time. I waited to inquire if there was any word from either Herr Wagner or Karl Schneider until after the hotel attendant had gone.
I had given the man compensation for bringing supper in a timely manner. It was a habit learned from my great-aunt.
“If you compensate them additional, they will be certain to provide excellent service. It is also well-known that if you provide additional compensation to the hotel manager it willrarely find its way into the hands of those who have provided the extra service.”
Words of wisdom from a world traveler in her younger years.
“What is it?”
He did have that way of reading me, as he called it. I was still working on that where he was concerned.
“Something…” I replied, which told him nothing. It wasn’t something I could put my finger on. “Something in his manner…”
“Yer woman’s intuition?” he asked, removing a domed lid from one of the plates at the table.
“He seemed somewhat...curious. Almost too attentive, which is most unusual for wait staff.” I tried to explain what I had glimpsed for just a moment. Out of habit I had closed my notebook when he arrived.
I had ordered up traditional Frankfurt fare with potatoes, fresh bread, apple tarts, and wine made from currants and blackberries.
Brodie eyed the typical Frankfurt fare suspiciously. “What the devil is that?”
