The Star of Kazan

‘No, my dear. Not Wenzel. I think you know whom I mean.’

There was no escape then. ‘Zed?’

‘Yes, Zed. I suspected it at once, there have been other incidents, but we had to make absolutely certain. It would have been dreadful to accuse him unjustly.’

‘But . . . why . . . why would he steal my trunk? Why would he want old clothes and jewels that aren’t worth anything?’

‘Annika, Zed has not had your education. It would be natural enough for him to look inside the trunk – if only to check that the contents had arrived undamaged. And then . . . well, he’s a gypsy, what would he know about jewels? He would see the brightness and the sparkle . . . and it’s not true that imitation jewels are worth nothing. Nothing to people like us, but to a gypsy boy . . . You’ll probably find there are travellers all over the country now who are wearing the poor great-aunt’s pathetic treasures. And when he’d sold the rest or pawned them, what would be more natural than to throw the trunk into the lake?’

Annika had turned away, trying to deal with the sudden weight in her chest. Zed. But it made sense of course. It all made sense. He had asked her not to tell her mother. He hadn’t wanted it talked about.

Her mother had found one of her own handkerchiefs and was dabbing Annika’s eyes.

‘My poor, poor child – you’re not the first person to be betrayed by a friend, but I know how dreadfully it hurts. Now I'm going to tuck you up in bed myself and let the new maid bring you a hot drink and I’ll stay with you till you’re asleep. And whatever you do, you mustn’t go down to the farm till the police have sorted everything out. You would only shame Zed.’

Her mother was as good as her word. She took Annika to her room and sat with her, and the maid brought her a glass of hot milk and two aspirins, which her mother insisted that she swallowed. ‘For I can see you have a dreadful headache. All the von Tannenbergs get headaches when they’re upset.’

Annika had been awake most of the night before and so she did sleep. She slept deeply. But in the morning she woke early and dressed – and though she knew it was very wrong to disobey her mother she very quietly let herself out of the back door and made her way down to the farm.

She had to see Zed and talk to him. If he apologized and explained it would be all right. The trunk didn’t matter, it was that he had lied.

But perhaps he hadn’t. Perhaps he could tell her something that made it all right.

There was something funny about the stork house. At first she thought the storks had gone, there was such a feeling of emptiness and desertion. But they were still there, sitting on their eggs. She pushed the door open.

‘Zed?’

But she knew already. It wasn’t the storks that had gone.

Behind her the door was opened quietly and she spun round.

It was old Wenzel. ‘Thought you’d be down. Zed’s gone.’

‘The police?’

He shook his head. ‘He didn’t wait for them. He went in the night.’

Then from the kennel behind the house, she heard Hector whining. ‘I came to fetch the dog,’ Wenzel said. ‘I’m to keep him till Bertha’s brother comes to take him away.’

‘Do you know anything . . . about where he’s gone?’

‘No, I don’t. And you’d better not ask too many questions – stay away from the farm, I would.’

‘But what about Rocco?’ Annika asked. ‘What will happen to Rocco?’

Old Wenzel looked down at the ground.

‘He’s taken Rocco,’ he said.

C

HAPTER

T

WENTY

-

FOUR

Z

ED

R

IDES

When he left Spittal, close on midnight, Zed had taken two saddlebags and nothing else. One was packed with a change of clothes, a loaf of bread, such money as he had, a map, and the compass given him by the Freiherr. The other contained a halter and rope for Rocco, a supply of oats, a brush and a hoof-pick. The horse had been shod recently, but with a journey of more than 700 kilometres ahead of him, he would need to be alert.

He had ridden without stopping; all he wanted was to put as much distance between himself and Frau Edeltraut as possible. Her accusations and the threats of her brother-in-law had at first only angered him, but the anger was quickly followed by fear. He knew the power of the von Tannenbergs. They could have him imprisoned or deported and they would not hesitate to do so. No one would believe his word against theirs.

Ye t at Bad Haxenfeld he had halted. His road south led past the station, it skirted the town. He was in a desperate hurry; he had certainly not stolen Annika’s trunk, but he had taken Rocco. He felt no guilt about this. He could not have left the horse at Spittal at the mercy of Frau Edeltraut’s whims, but in the eyes of the law he was a thief.

All the same, he had turned off into the town and ridden Rocco into the stable yard of the Majestic and now, as he left the spa behind, he was glad because he knew the truth.