Herr Schmidt nodded, and we followed him to the room that served as an office. He retrieved a shirt, buttoned it across that barrel chest, the sleeves loosely rolled back. He poured a glass and offered it to Brodie.
“Schnapps,” he said. “It will ease the pain. My cousin sends it to me by the case. The English do not know how to make it.”
“Thank ye, but no,” Brodie replied.
Herr Schmidt nodded and took a long drink.
“Now, tell me, what is it that has brought you here?”
Brodie explained about the attack at the Old Bell, saying only that we were making inquiries in the matter for the police. He didn’t mention Burke’s name.
Herr Schmidt nodded over his glass. “I heard of this. It can be dangerous to go to a pub.” A grin appeared under that silver moustache. “But a bit of excitement is always good. Yes?”
“The attacker was seen that night.” Brodie gave him the description that Fitch had provided. “I had an encounter with him as well.”
Herr Schmidt nodded. “And this man walked away? That is not what I have heard about you.”
“In a manner of speaking. He has a knife wound now.”
I looked over at him with some surprise. He had not mentioned that part of the encounter.
Herr Schmidt nodded. “Perhaps he has simply gone off somewhere and bled to death.” He was thoughtful and set his glass on the top of the desk. “I know of this man. He is not German. He is Austrian, highly skilled with his fists...as you have experienced. He is, how do you say...” He searched for the word in English. “An assassin. He is well paid by those who can afford his time, and he takes great pleasure in causing pain.” That sharp gaze met Brodie’s across the desk.
“He is from Linz, though he calls no country home. It is said that he fought his way out of the iron ore mines there, though the story changes depending on who is telling it.
“I’ve heard rumors about him,” he continued. “It is unknown what you can believe. Only the bodies know, eh? And they don’t speak.”
He gave Brodie a long look, then reached for his glass once more and poured more Schnapps.
“What is known is that he lives well and dresses as you have described him. You are fortunate to have survived the encounter.”
“The man’s name?” Bodie replied.
“He calls himself Steiner. It meansfrom stone. And he is that.”
“I need to know whom he works for.”
“As I said, those who can afford to pay his fee. I mean no offense, Lady Forsythe, but he is the sort of man who will be found in the company of those with titles, wealth, and power. More than that,” he shrugged. “I do not know. Nor do I want to know.
“I have my family, and this place that I have worked hard for. A man like Steiner does not value anything other than whatanother man will pay him, although it is said that he has a particular...appetite for a beautiful woman.” He looked over at me.
“If Steiner is the man Herr Brodie is looking for, you must be careful Lady Forsythe. I would not want anything to happen to you. Do you still carry a weapon?”
Brodie winced as the coach lurched across uneven pavement in the roadway as we left the gymnasium.
Burke murdered. That note he had given me. Brodie attacked after leaving the Old Bell. And now to learn the man who had attacked him was a known assassin.
“What has this to do with Burke and that note?” I said, trying to make sense of it all.
“Ye said often enough that the man would sell his soul for a story for the newspaper, and he built his reputation on the crime and scandal sheets for the Times,” Brodie commented.
“The better question would be, wot is it about a story that was worth his life?”
It made sense. But what did that have to do with me?
Brodie braced himself as the coach lurched again, then slowly let out the breath he was holding.
After leaving the gymnasium, I had suggested that he return to the office to await word from Mr. Conner, while I continued on with the hope of learning something about that gold button.
