“It’s plausible. If the shrine exists, it is hidden somewhere in the older section of the Schloss.

“I wish I knew the layout of the place a little better. Where do Irma and the old Gräfin live? It would be mildly embarrassing to meet one of them while we were ripping up the floor.”

“The dowager’s rooms are in the tower at the end of our wing.” Tony gestured. “I think Irma’s room is under the old lady’s.”

“Nuts. I hoped I was alone in the old wing.”

“You’re surrounded,” Tony said, with mean satisfaction. “Nolan’s room is down the hall. I’m next to you, and on your other side is Dr. Blankenhagen, our conversational tablemate. The little fat guy is next to me. That’s about all…. Oh, yeah, the English female is in the tower too. I told you she was a crony of the Gräfin.”

“Good God. How can we do any searching? It’s like Main Street on Saturday night.”

“If you’re planning to start ripping up floor boards in the guest rooms, you aren’t as logical as you think you are.”

I sighed ostentatiously.

“Must I explain my reasoning? I thought it was obvious.”

“I’ve been sharing my humble thinking with you. Go ahead, be obvious.”

“Well, isn’t the master bedchamber—Burckhardt’s own room—the logical place in which to start searching?”

“It might be, if we knew which room was Burckhardt’s.”

At that moment the moon rose above the wall and turned the little garden into something out of Rostand. I glanced at Tony. He put his arm around me and I leaned back against it.

“I can’t fight with you,” Tony said.

“You can’t fight with anybody. You’re too nice a guy. No, none of that. We were reasoning, remember. What we need is a plan of the Schloss as it was in the good old days. Or we could ask the Gräfin which room was the master bedchamber.”

“I’m against that.”

“So am I,” I agreed amiably. “We don’t want to rouse any suspicions. Anyhow, she may not know.”

“And until we know, I don’t see any point in searching the bedrooms. The hiding place won’t be obvious; you really would have to rip up floors and tear down the walls.”

“Anyhow,” I said thoughtfully, “the count’s room might not have been the best place to hide something. Didn’t they have servants and attendants hanging around all the time?”

“I wouldn’t say that. But there are any number of equally likely places: Such as—”

“Don’t,” I said suddenly. The garden was a magical place, but it was a little uncanny, with the rustling shrubbery and a breeze moving the branches of the trees. “Let’s go in. I’ve had enough atmosphere for tonight. I could stand a glass of plain prosaic beer.”

We had our beer, served by Irma, in the room of the château that served as a lounge. The family from Hamburg were playing Skat and the honeymoon couple, in a shadowy corner, were fully occupied with each other. The only person in the room who wasn’t distracted by the squeaks and giggles coming from that corner was the English lady, who sat knitting like a robot, without removing her eyes from her needles. George was nowhere to be seen, and I wondered uneasily about the rustling I had heard in the garden.