“What a mess,” I said.

“The new count was no draftsman,” Tony agreed. “And the parchment needs cleaning. But you can make out most of it. Ignore the east wing, which was later demolished. Here’s the wing we are presently occupying—this line of rooms. The master bedchamber…is the one now inhabited by Schmidt.”

“I suspected as much.”

“Oh, you know everything, don’t you?”

“I said ‘suspected.’ How come Schmidt rated that particular room? Tony, maybe he’s already found the shrine!”

“Think it through,” Tony said, with maddening superiority. “Schmidt is still here, poking and prying and acting suspicious. If he had found the shrine he wouldn’t stick around. Do we then conclude that the shrine is not, after all, concealed somewhere in the chamber that belonged to Burckhardt?”

“We might if we were sure of two things.”

“One, that Schmidt is a good hunter; two, that Schmidt is a hunter, not a weird but innocent bystander. All right, we don’t conclude anything. The room next to his is mine now. According to the plan, it was once two smaller chambers occupied by servants of the noble pair. The next room—yours—belonged to the countess.”

“How modern,” I said, with a flippancy I did not feel. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have Konstanze that close to me.

“It was unusual for them to have had separate bedchambers.” Tony squinted at the dirty parchment. “Well, the legend is clear. Maybe she used it as boudoir or dressing room. Maybe she liked to sleep with the window open and Burckhardt liked it closed. Maybe he snored. Maybe—”

“Surely her room would be right next to his. If not…”

Tony grinned.

“They didn’t have our hang-ups about sex. I can see the count stamping down the corridor between rows of genuflecting servants on his way to spend the night with the countess…. But one of the noble gentlemen was more sensitive—or maybe he was susceptible to drafts. See this line?”

“Between the count and countess’s rooms?”

“Through the wall. I think it’s a passageway. Maybe blocked up now.”

“That’s all we lacked—a secret passage.”

“Nothing unusual about it. This isn’t Cleveland, Ohio; we’re in medieval Europe here. The place is probably riddled with secret passages. When you have walls ten feet thick, you can do all sorts of interesting things. I wish this parchment weren’t so filthy; I can’t make out all the fine lines. But this looks like another passage, from the library to one of the guest chambers. The count probably put his questionable acquaintances in that room, so he could eavesdrop on their conversations.”

“What’s this?” I pointed to a drawing of something that looked like a thick chimney.

“It would appear to be the count’s concept of an elevation drawing of the tower. Note that there seems to be a hidden stairway in the outer wall.”

“In the tower, eh? Then Irma could have gotten out of her room even with the door locked.”