*The usual disclaimers apply. Special thanks goes to Ermintrude for being such a wonderful beta and for all of her time and help with this. Hope you enjoy ?
New FF: A Dangerous Vintage-Part Eight
Bootshaus Zum
2:15 PM
"Thank you so much for agreeing to talk with us," Amanda said. "My husband and I are planning on opening our restaurant in January, so any advice we can get would be helpful."
"It is no problem, believe me." Vivian Guenther smiled. She was a small, slight woman, her pale blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She led them into the main dining room, a large area with gleaming white walls, brightly colored modern furnishings and large windows to let in the light. "Actually, I wish I had thought to ask for advice before opening this place. We're quite successful now, but it certainly wasn't easy."
"Is there any advice you can give us?" Lee asked.
"Well if you've got the right permits, that's a big hurdle out of your way," Vivian replied. "They're difficult enough for a German, but for an expat they can seem almost impossible."
"We have the work permit and the business permit is still going through." Amanda said. "We're also looking for ways that we'll can save money and increase our profits. So many businesses seem to go under in the first year—we don't want to be one of them."
"No one ever does," the other woman told her. "But I wouldn't expect too much profit, at least not at first. We certainly didn't."
"How long did it take for you to see some profit?" Lee asked.
"Longer than it should have been, quite frankly," Vivian replied. "The assistant manager I originally hired was lazy and rude—not only to our staff, but to our customers. Since he left we've been slowly building back our reputation. It's taken us about a year and a half."
That explained all the bad reviews she'd seen online, Amanda thought. "Is there any other advice you can give us?" she asked.
"Prices matter, of course—the German public is quite frugal. But what really works for us is the location." The woman gestured out the window, to the outdoor dining area on the riverbank. "I don't know where we would be if we hadn't gotten this place."
"It certainly is a good location," Lee agreed.
"It is indeed." Vivian said, brushing a strand of hair out of her eyes. "If you don't mind my asking, where will you be located?"
"We're considering several places," Lee said. "But at the moment we're leaning towards Altstadt."
Vivian nodded knowingly. "Old Town—a good place for tourists, though to be honest tourists seem to be everywhere. And make use of nearby landmarks if you can—we sell t-shirts and jerseys— we've even started selling locks for the couples to put on Eiserner-Steg Bridge just nearby. Believe me, the more you can capitalize, the better."
"That is good advice," Amanda replied, as she wrote in her small notebook. "What can you tell us about suppliers? You know, for food and wine—things like that. Is there anyone you would recommend?"
"Frankly, that's hard to say." Vivian led them back towards the kitchen area as she spoke. "A lot of it depends on the type of cuisine—some places provide a variety, while other places specialize in things like seafood or produce from nearby farms. I do have a list that I can give you."
"That would be a lot of help," Amanda said. She turned the pages as if looking for a note. "You know, someone else recommended a wine supplier to us—Rhinehassen? Have you ever heard of them?"
"Rhinehassen?" Vivian repeated. "I can tell you that our restaurant does currently use them, but I don't know if I'd recommend them."
"Why is that?" Lee asked.
"Reliability, mostly. We were quite pleased with them at first, but lately we've had some problems. Late deliveries, damaged bottles in the shipments—things like that." Vivian lowered her voice slightly. "And then there's the labeling—we've suspected for some time that they've been passing off other wines as their own."
The same thing that Auggie had suspected, Amanda thought. "Have you told the authorities about any of this?"
Vivian shook her head. "I have no proof. All I can tell you is that when my contract is done, I will be switching suppliers. If you do decide to go with Rhinehassen, please—be careful."
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"I think we can scratch that last place off our list," Amanda said as they left the restaurant, heading towards the Eiserner-Steg Bridge. "They may have had problems in the past, but they seem to have improved."
"I think you're right," Lee agreed. "All right, let's review what we have so far. The first place we visited was Die Leiter in Aldstadt—that manager wasn't exactly eager to speak to us."
"Yeah, but I think that might have been because he was short-staffed—he wasn't in the mood to talk to anyone. I felt a little sorry for him." Amanda looked down at her notes. "Still, we should probably run a basic background, just to be on the safe side. What about that second place—Apfelwein Pub?"
Lee shook his head. "It was too new—the establishment we're looking for will be a lot older than six months." At that moment his cell phone rang. Lee took it out of his pocket and pressed the button. "Stetson speaking. Auggie? Is everything all right? You ordered what from room service?" Lee ran his hand back through his hair. "No—no—that's fine, I understand. It's all right. Wait a minute—you want to go where? No, you can't, Auggie—check to see if the front desk has it—I'm sure they have something. Goodbye." He hung up the phone.
"What was all that about?" Amanda asked.
"Well, he just ordered a steak with all the trimmings from room service," Lee replied. "Plus he seems to be without his favorite shampoo—he wanted to ask if he could go to the chemist next door to buy some."
"His shampoo?" Amanda repeated, raising her eyebrows.
"That's what he said." Lee shook his head. "I think I'm going to regret giving Auggie my cell number."
"Well he does need a way to get in touch with us if anything happens."
"That's debatable." They turned onto the iron pedestrian bridge. It was busy this time of day, crowded with busy commuters rushing by, couples walking hand in hand, and a large group of teenagers posing for a photo against the side of the bridge. Two older men sat on a bench nearby, one playing a clarinet while the other accompanied him on the accordion. A hat lay on the ground in front of them, coins scattered on the bottom. "Okay, what's the next place on our list?"
"A place called Neiderrad Café —it's right on the other side of this bridge." Amanda turned the next page of her notebook. "They've been in business about five years now, according to my research."
"Did you find anything else?"
"Well it was kind of strange," Amanda replied. "I could only find two online reviews, no website, no photos—most restaurants these days have something online. The first number I found turned out to be disconnected and I had to call directory assistance to get another."
"What did you get when you called?"
"A young girl—she said she was the hostess and that they would be open until eleven o'clock tonight," Amanda said. "She wasn't very friendly, though—she kept telling me how busy she was and that she had to get off the phone."
"Yeah, that is pretty strange," Lee admitted. They were nearing the end of the bridge now—they sidestepped to let a teacher and a group of schoolchildren pass. "Especially for a place that's been in business that long—it's almost like they don't have customers. Did Auggie have anything to say about it?"
"Only that they didn't want to talk to him—in his opinion they didn't seem to be running their business very well."
"Usually I'd take anything Auggie says with a grain of salt," Lee said. "But in this case he might have a point. I'd say it's definitely worth looking into."
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Neiderrad Café
2:50 PM
Unwelcoming was the first word that came into Amanda's mind as she looked at the Neiderrad Café. It was a small place, sandwiched in between a coffee shop and a pawnbroker's establishment. The red brick edifice was faded and weathered, and the sign over the door was nearly impossible to read. Just above the door sat a small security camera.
"Not much of a place," she murmured.
"No it's not." Lee pointed to a small sign on the door. "Ring for service—guess we should do what the sign says, huh?" He pressed the bell. A few moments passed before the door was opened by a young woman.
"Yes?" Her accent sounded different than most around here, Lee thought—if he had to guess he'd say she was Austrian. She looked to be about Jenna's age or maybe a little younger, her dark brown hair pulled back in a single braid. She wore a white button-down blouse and a light brown skirt. "May I help you?"
"Yes, you can," Lee said. "I'm Lee Stedman and this is my wife Amanda." Instinct told him that they should use their cover names with this place.
"You are Americans?" the girl asked.
"That's right," Lee replied. He watched as a shadow moved in the shadows behind the girl—someone else was listening to them. "I think my wife spoke to you earlier on the phone."
"Yes, she did," the girl said. "But I did say that we were rather busy today."
"We're going to be opening a restaurant nearby and we've been talking to some other owners in the area," Amanda told her. "Basically we're trying to get some advice, a feel for what this is like. Is there anyone here that we can talk to?"
"Talk to?" The girl repeated, casting a furtive glance behind her. "I don't know—we're quite busy right now. Perhaps if you could come back later?"
"Well maybe if we could come in for lunch," Lee said. "We really just want to ask a few questions, if you wouldn't mind."
The girl shook her head. "That isn't possible at the moment, I'm afraid. Our lunch hour is over now."
"That's okay," Amanda said. "Maybe if we could just come in for a quick cup of coffee?"
"Anneliese." A dark-haired, bearded man loomed behind the girl, wearing a pair of dark slacks and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. "I will deal with this now—you can attend to your other duties."
"Yes sir." The girl left and the man turned to face them.
"I'm sorry," he told them . "But I'm afraid that we are closed at the moment—we won't reopen until six, when we start serving dinner. You may come back at that time. "
"If you don't mind, sir," Amanda said. "My husband and I are planning on opening a restaurant nearby—like we said, we really just had a few questions."
For a few moments the man was silent, just staring at them. "And you are Mr. and Mrs. Stedman, correct?"
"That's right," Lee replied. "We were given your name by another restaurant owner nearby. We just had some questions."
"What sort of questions?" the man asked, his tone suddenly sharp.
"Just some basic questions," Amanda said. "You know, about the kind of business you get around here, tourists, the suppliers you use—things like that. If you just have a few moments to spare."
The man shook his head. "I'm afraid I have no time to spare, and our manager is currently out of town. Perhaps if you were to come next week?"
"Isn't there anyone who could help us?" Amanda asked. "We promise not to take up too much of your time."
"I am sorry, not now. Good day." With that the man stepped back and closed the door.
"Well that didn't get us very far," Amanda said. "I'd say their behavior is definitely suspicious, though. Wouldn't you?"
Lee nodded. "I would—and I'm thinking this could be our front." He took Amanda's arm. "Let's go over to the coffee shop next door. We'll be able to watch this place from there—figure out what exactly is going on here."
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Anneliese watched through the window as Mr. and Mrs. Stedman walked over to the coffee shop next door. They had seemed like nice people, she thought. And it certainly would have been nice to have some real customers for a change. All of the other restaurants in the area seemed to have plenty of customers—but not them. When anyone did turn up, she was usually told to turn them away—at least the people who came to eat. The others who came here—they never seemed to stay very long.
What kind of a restaurant was this? None of it made any sense. She continued to watch through the window, leaning her chin on her hand as the Stedmans took a seat in the outdoor café area.
"Anneliese!"
The man's voice startled her. Quickly she turned to see Herr Woidke, the assistant manager.
"Forgive me if I frightened you," he said.
"You didn't," Anneliese replied hurriedly. "What do you need?"
"I wanted to ask if you could set up a table. Herr Malik will be expecting a visitor within the hour."
"Will they be eating?" Anneliese asked.
"It is possible, yes," he told her. "Why do you ask?"
His sharp grey eyes looking into hers made her slightly nervous—she felt her cheeks growing warm. "No reason," she said quickly. "I was just curious."
"Ahh, I see." He smiled. "Well, if they do, the kitchen will handle that. No need for you to be involved."
"I will lay out a place setting, just in case."
"Good thinking." He glanced over her shoulder out the window. "Isn't that Mr. and Mrs. Stedman? The ones who came to visit us?"
Anneliese nodded. "That's them, yes."
"And you said that they called you beforehand?"
"The woman did."
"And what did she say?"
"She only wanted to know the hours that we were open. I told her we were open until eleven."
"From now on you are to transfer any callers directly to Herr Malik's line. Is that understood?"
"Yes, I suppose so."
"You suppose? Is there a problem?"
"Not really," she told him. "I just thought that answering phones was part of my job. If you didn't want me to do it—"
He held up his hand for silence. "It's not a question of not wanting you to do it," he said. "It's just that the owner prefers to handle these things more directly. Do you understand?"
"I understand."
"Good." A pause. "You still have that little flat over on Rosenheimer Strasse, don't you? How is that working out?"
"It's working out just fine," she told him.
"And that roommate of yours—Franzie?"
"She—she's doing well."
"And how is your mother? She lives right outside of Salzburg, if I'm not mistaken."
Anneliese gave another nod. "Yes, she lives in Rothenburg, with my aunt. She's doing just fine."
"You call her every week, don't you?"
How did he know about that? She could feel her cheeks growing even warmer. "Yes, I do."
"And she's doing well?"
"She's fine."
"I am very glad to hear it." Herr Woidke's smile widened. "We're a family here, Anneliese, and Herr Malik and I like to know about our employee's lives outside of work—what they do, who they know. It's very good thing to do—don't you agree?"
"Of course."
"Very good." He patted her shoulder. "Now get the table ready, please. I'll have some work for you to do in the back while they're here—Herr Malik's guest will not wish to be disturbed."
"I understand."
"Yes, I thought you might." With that he turned and walked back into the kitchen. Anneliese grabbed the canister of napkins and carried it to the large table in the back, realizing that her hands were trembling slightly.
What had she gotten herself into?
TBC
