Prelude
Vienna, Austria-Hungary
July 8, 1878
It was a rather slow day inthe Thaliastraße Post Office. Jannik Hass sorted through a stack of letters at his leisure, placing them in mail slots or sacks as needed. Luk and Niklas were almost late for the next delivery. He had half a mind to report the boys to Mr. Kersche. He stretched his back and turned the page of his newspaper.
The bell above the door chimed and he looked up, expecting the lollygaggers. But instead, he found a regular customer.
“Ah, Mr. Mayr. Greetings to you. How can I help you?”
Mr. Mayr shook his head, producing a large parcel wrapped in brown paper. “I’d like to send a package, Jan.” His voice shook a little and he seemed out of sorts. “To my niece.”
Jannik leaned over the counter. “What’s troubling you, my friend?”
“Just a long day.” Mr. Mayr smiled, but it was forced. “Nothing more.”
Jannik noticed these things with all his customers. Perhaps it made the job more interesting. Perhaps it was because his wife liked to hear the news of all the people on their side of town.
He did not push though. It was not his business. If Mr. Mayrwished to share, he would share. Jannik tapped the article he was reading.
“What do you think about this treaty, eh? Our country may be expanding, taking control of Bosnia, if they sign it.”
“They will,” Mayr said, letting out a breath. He pushed the package forward. “How much?”
Jannik weighed it, clucking his tongue. He checked the address. “England? Do you have this written correctly?”
“Yes. She moved there a few months ago. How much?”
“Thirty kreuzer. Are you sure you want to send it? That’s a week’s wages.”
“I’m sure.”
Jannik shook his head, stamping the package. “You must love your niece.”
“I do. Can you make sure it is sent straight away?”
“I’ll send it direct with the next courier I see.” Jannik said, copying the recipient’s name and address into the postal records as a foreign charge.
“Thank you. Thank you.” Mr. Mayr counted out the coins, each making a satisfying clinking noise on the counter.
The bell above the door rang again as Luk came in from the morning deliveries.
“Perfect timing,” Jannik said, pulling the new mail sack from the wall and slipping the package inside it. “This package needs to be the first thing you deliver, understand? Take it straight to the station.”
“Yes, sir.” Luk took the mail sack with one hand and snagged his lunch from behind the counter with the other.
Mr. Mayr’s shoulders sagged as Luk left the post office. He turned to Jannik and held out a hand. “You have helped immensely. Thank you, again.”
“Of course! It is my job.” He shook the man’s hand. “And we will see you back soon, eh? You are always sending letters.”
“We’ll see.” Mr. Mayr tipped his hat and the bell above the door rang out once more before leaving Jannik in silence. Perhaps Jannik was not as good at reading his customers as he thought, but it didn’t seem as if Mr. Mayr had been teasing.
Niklas was still running behind. Jannik never liked to rat on the boys, but Mr. Kersche would want to know, even if Niklas was only a minute or so late. The post office demanded efficiency and the boys knew the consequences when they were not on time.
He turned towards the rickety staircase that would take him to the upper office, the boards creaking under his feet. He rapped on the door, the sound dull against his knuckles.
“Come in,” Mr. Kersche said.
