A/N: here's the 12th chapter, finally. Sorry it took me so much to get another chapter done - this is what I get for working on several WIPs at once.
A little note: the information near the end of the chapter about von Glower's "family" wasn't something I came up with - it's written in the game's novelization by Jane Jensen. Just thought I should mention I didn't come up with it.
Also, I'd like to thank Audra for the kind review. Thank you so much, I'm glad you've enjoyed the read so far. Sorry I took a while to update.
The maid who opened the door didn't recognize her – nor Elsa recognized her, and she got the feeling she had been hired after the last time he had bothered to drop by several months earlier– and she looked a bit surprised when she said whose daughter she was. Then again, that was nothing new: Elsa truly looked nothing like her mother, nor like her late husband. But that was an issue she had forbidden herself to think about years before, after that one afternoon when a rather reluctant Wilhelm had showed her-
"Look who decided to show up," a dry voice snapped her from her thoughts.
Elsa drew in a long, deep breath before looking back at the woman standing before her. She was tall, with fair skin and blonde hair, and still beautiful; hadn't it been for the perpetual cold expression hardening her features, Brunhilde von Zell would have looked a lot younger than her age. "I have some questions to ask grandmother," she replied, trying to keep her voice even.
A low, cold laugh escaped her mother. "Questions? She can barely understand what's going on around her. I'll be surprised if she recognizes you. What answers are you hoping to get? You'd waste your time."
"Thanks for your concern. But since it's my time we're talking about, I'll waste it the way I see fit."
That got a scowl out of her mother. "I see. And I can also see that you couldn't find enough time to waste on even asking how I'm holding everything together, considering the circumstances-"
"Spare me the act. You hated him," Elsa cut her off before walking past her. "Now, if she's not sleeping, I'd like to see grandmother."
Elsa heard her mother muttering some retort that was probably meant to be scathing, but whatever it was she didn't listen: she just walked through the door and headed to the living room where she knew her grandmother spent most of her says. She remembered that room very well: back when she was still a child - and Erich von Zell was still alive, with his mind intact - they'd spend every Sunday afternoon there. The adults would discuss business, of course, which bored her out of her mind, but she was still supposed to listen, or so she was told. As long as she behaved, and sat still, and didn't speak unless spoken to.
She remembered wondering why Garr – he was only five years older than herself, still a kid when she was young enough to suck her thumb from time to time – seemed to never get bored of such discussions: he'd sit right next to his father and listen, a serious expression on his face, and sometimes even little Elsa had to wonder how could no one else notice the stiffness in her mother's back any time she looked at that brother who could have almost been her son.
She had asked him once, and he had given a smirk that looked somewhat wrong on a twelve year old. He had told her that he wasn't really listening to a word, but that he was expected to, so he put on an interested face and thought about other things while the old man spoke. And, when she had asked him why her mother didn't like him, he had looked away and say she just couldn't get used to the second place.
A rather accurate description of her mother, Elsa was thinking now, but she immediately pushed all thoughts on the matter aside as she saw her grandmother sitting on her usual armchair, the one that had been her late husband's favorite one, looking at old photo albums.
"Grandmother," she greeted her, and the old woman turned to look at her. She looked at her with a vacant expression for a few moments, then her eyes moved as though she was looking somewhere above her left shoulder, and she immediately brightened and smiled.
"Oh, here you are! Come here, come here!" she said, gesturing for her to come closer and take a look at the photo album currently open on her knees. "I was looking at some pictures. Look, isn't he handsome?"
Elsa looked down to see black and white a picture of a young Erich von Zell – quite an handsome man, she had to admit, but the Wehrmacht uniform he was wearing took away most of the charm. "… I see. Hot stuff, yes," she muttered before quickly deciding to try making that as quick as she could. "I was wondering if you still have a copy of uncle Garr's keys. You know, those of his house? He left you a copy, right?" she tried.
"Oh, and you have to see this one," her grandmother said, still smiling brightly, and picked up another photo album. Before Elsa could say anything she was opening it and flipping through the pages. "Isn't it adorable?"
Elsa raised an eyebrow at the morbid picture she was staring up. Both her grandparents were in it, looking especially grim; her mother – she had been, what, eighteen in that picture? – stood next to her grandmother and looked everything like she had just eaten a lemon. The reason of her displeasure sat right in her grandmother's arms, of course – Garr von Zell, age… well, from nine months to maybe a year, perhaps?
"Yes, adorable," she agreed, not really feeling like arguing. "About the keys…"
"Keys, dear?" the old woman repeated, finally turning her gaze from the albums to look… no, not at her: once again, she was looking at that spot above her left shoulder. Elsa was for a moment reminded of her dream, with Garr von Zell standing right behind her, but quickly chased away the thought and spoke quickly: if she had really been lucky enough to catch her in a rare parenthesis of relative lucidity, she wasn't going to waste that chance.
"Yes, the keys. I need the keys to uncle Garr's house. He, uh… asked me to… bring him some stuff over, and he's out of town," she added, fully knowing that the old woman hadn't yet grasped, and probably never would grasp, the fact her son was missing and, by now, considered dead.
To her utter relief and surprise, she nodded. "But of course, dear. They're in the secret drawer of Erich's old desk, like all the other keys. The one you always played with, remember? They're labelled."
Else couldn't remember ever knowing of a secret drawer in her grandfather's desk or playing with it – in fact, she never got within a ten foot radius from that desk – but that wasn't important: what mattered now was knowing where she should look.
"That's great, thanks. I'll be right back. Get back looking at your-" she trailed off as she noticed she already was back at looking at the photos, a small smile on her wrinkled face "… Yes, exactly like that," she added before turning on her heels and quickly walking upstairs, where she knew her grandfather's study was.
Finding the secret drawer was easier than she expected, especially because she knew, the very same moment she saw the desk, what to do. As if on its own accord, her hand went beneath the desk and pressed a small convex area in the wood – and, a moment later, a clicking sound came from the left side of the desk. "Well, maybe I did play with this thing as a kid," she muttered to no one in particular before opening the drawer.
Finding the keys didn't take long – they were labelled, just as her grandmother had said – and minutes later she was walking out of the study with the keys in her pocket. She hesitated for a moment before walking through the living room, but she thankfully didn't seem to even notice her presence as she passed by.
Her mother, on the other hand, noticed her all too well when she tried to get out without having to meet her.
"Leaving already?"
Oh well, her sudden luck was bound to run out at some point. "Yes," she said, barely glancing at her mother over her shoulder. "I take it you won't invite me to the party when you get him declared officially dead. What music will you pick for the funeral, by the way? Ode to Joy?"
Her mother's gaze darkened. "Even you side up with him, like everyone, always. Even now that he's dead."
Elsa clenched her jaw. If it was her compassion she wanted, she could as well keep waiting until she got old. She had downright ignored her existence for too many years, and it was too late to make up for that. But of course, it wasn't like Brunhilde was ever going to really try: Elsa was nothing but one of her failed plans, after all. She existed for the same reason why her mother had married when she was just twenty to some much older businessman her family wanted ties to – she had wanted to prove herself useful to her parents, granting them the ties with the person they wanted and giving them a grandchild.
She had thought that would gain her father's respect, perhaps some attention: she was always obsessed with doing something better than uncle Garr. But nothing she did to achieve that had ever worked, of course, not even wasting her own youth. The old man only had eyes for Garr, and as soon as it had been clear a granddaughter wouldn't change that Elsa had lost any value in her mother's eyes. She was one of her failures – the most troublesome one, one she couldn't get rid of, there to remind her was still worth nothing.
Elsa never failed to feel a vicious satisfaction at that thought.
"As you said, he's dead. And seems like there aren't many people left willing to side with him," she said dryly, reaching to open the door to leave. "Don't bother letting me know how you're doing," she added before walking through the door and shutting it behind herself with more force than it would have been necessary.
A long silence fell after the sound of the door slamming shut faded. Brunhilde stared at the door for a long time, saying nothing, a bitter scowl on her face. She wasn't sorry for hatred in her daughter's voice any time she spoke to her – she quite disliked her herself – but it still got under her skin how even now, even to her, everything was still about Garr. Even her own daughter had always preferred her brother to her.
Garr.
Her features twisted in anger even more as she thought of her brother. Oh, Elsa was correct when she had said she hated him: even now that her brother was gone she still did hate him more than anyone else in the world, and she despised quite a lot of people. But in the end she knew that it wasn't only because of him and his insufferable arrogance, no – she hated him because of how everyone had always put him in the first place, how for just being born he effortlessly got all the consideration and support her own hard work had never gained her.
She had been seventeen when Garr was born, and she couldn't forget how everyone had saluted his birth as if it were some kind of miracle. Not only he was the son Erich von Zell had been wanting for all his life, but he was also unexpected: Garr had been a late child, for their mother was pushing forty when she had him and nobody expected her to have any other child after the troublesome pregnancy that had led to Brunhilde's birth when she was only twenty. But she did, and from that moment on Brunhilde had always been in her brother's shadow. It was always him, always Garr – he was the one everyone's attention would focus on: Garr, the perfect son, the eternal first of the class, doing better than she had done before him in any field.
And that smirk, God, that smirk. Even as a child he wouldn't smile – he smirked. A smirk meant to taunt her, she was sure. It was the smirk the one on top would reserve to those below, those who could never reach their same level, no matter how hard they tried. He challenged her, she was sure of it – young as he was, he knew what her place was and challenged her to change it while knowing there was nothing she could do about that, that not even marrying a much older man her father approved of and having a daughter she never truly wanted when she was only twenty-two could change it. How many times had she wished to erase that infuriating, arrogant expression from his face!
"But I'm sure you're not smirking anymore now, are you?" she said to no one in particular, a cold smile spreading on her face as she walked back to the living room.
Did the zoo wolves get you? I'm sure they did. I wish I could know what your last moments were like, Garr. I wish I could have been there to see your face then.
Her father was gone and couldn't be crushed by his precious son's death anymore and her mother's mind was too far gone to understand Garr was no more, but it didn't matter: with her brother out of the way, she could at least have his stocks at the bank as soon as he was declared dead and his will could be read. She was sure he had chosen to leave it all to the family in case anything happened to him, and the only close relative he had who was still sound of mind was Brunhilde herself. It had taken years, but she would finally have the stocks that should have been given to her from the beginning.
"I'm only sorry you won't be able to see how much better than him I can be," Brunhilde muttered, looking at her mother, who on the other hand didn't even look up her album. Over the last couple of years things had gotten worse, and she barely even noticed her presence when she tried to talk to her – oh, but how she'd lighten up if Garr just walked in! One would think she had just seen Jesus Christ himself. The memory made her scowl again. "You might have not noticed, but I always did my best to please you," she gave a bitter smile as she spoke even though her mother didn't seem to even hear her anymore. "My best was just never good enough, was it?"
Much to her surprise, this time her mother lifted her gaze from the album and looked at her with a vacant smile on her face – the most noticeable reaction she had been able to get out of her in weeks – and, after a few moments, spoke.
"Wasn't it nice of Garr and Elsa paying us a visit?"
"Wouldn't it have been easier turning into a wolf before doing that?" Mosely asked as he saw von Glower climbing up the last tract of the hillside that led up to the secret passage carrying a bag. Gerde had mentioned someone should stay there in case von Glower came back, and he had been glad to offer himself to do that: now that he felt better, some fresh air would do him good.
Besides, it was a quick way out in case some psychotic villager decided to attack the castle or something.
Von Glower chuckled breathlessly. "You sound incredibly at ease when it comes to the supernatural."
Mosely shrugged. "Yeah, well, you get used to weird stuff happening when you stick around Knight for a lot of time. So, why didn't you…?"
"I didn't want to leave the heart unattended. Carrying it as a wolf would have proved challenging at best, and the route through Rittersberg is not an option," von Glower replied, gratefully accepting the hand Mosely was holding out to him to hoist himself up to the entrance. "I see you're doing better."
"Uh… yeah," Mosely cleared his throat a bit. "Sorry for the hassle. I think I ate too much yesterday, and then I drank too much, and then there's this damn jet lag that's still-"
"It is quite alright," von Glower reassured him, wondering whether he had the slightest idea what he had exactly avoided by feeling sick. "What matters is that we have the heart. Also, here's the car keys," he added, pulling them out of his pocket. "I put some petrol in it, by the way. On my way back I stopped at my residence to gather some of my clothes and a few belongings, plus some cash. It's all in the car. I hope you don't mind."
Mosely shook his head. "Nah, it's fine. Better you than Knight, anyway," he added as they walked back inside. "That ass sure wouldn't have bothered to fill the tank again. He even stole my credit card to pay himself a trip from New Orleans to Germany, from Germany to hell-knows-where in Africa, and from hell-knows-where in Africa back to New Orleans. My bank account was in red, damn him."
Von Glower felt a pang of amusement. "I think I read about that in his novel," he said. "He thought you were dead, didn't he?"
"Yeah, but still. What asshole takes a dead man's wallet?" Mosely grumbled before letting out a sigh. "Well, guess I'll go down the route from Rittersberg to get the car up here. The guys in town won't want to skin me alive. I hope. Guess it depends on how Knight's meeting with them went."
Von Glower frowned a little. He had almost forgotten about that. He wonder how had things gone, and whether or not Gabriel would manage to finally convince the people of Rittersberg he was no danger for them. That was the most he could do, after all – von Glower doubted anything could convince them he was not a monster. Especially not when Gabriel himself was now doubting that.
And he… he couldn't truly deny that, either. Not anymore.
"Hey, Grace!"
Von Glower was snapped from his thoughts by Mosely's voice. He looked up to see that Grace was talking to Gerde about something near the entrance. Neither looked especially happy, but they didn't seem too gloomy, either. Perhaps her encounter with the practitioner hadn't brought to stellar news, but it looked like there had been at least something positive about it.
Grace turned to them, and her gaze immediately fell on von Glower, and on the bag he was carrying. "So, did you get it?" she asked somewhat excitedly, walking up to him.
Mosely made a face. "Hey, thanks for the attention. How are you, Mose?" he said, mimicking her voice.
"Go get the car, Mosely," Grace said instead before turning her attention back to von Glower. Behind her, Gerde was giving poor Mosely an empathetic smile. "So, did you…?"
"Yes," von Glower reached inside the bag and handed her the jar. "Here it is."
There was still some worry in her gaze – von Glower wondered if she had just been told what he already knew, that there was no way for Gabriel to rid himself of the curse without killing him – but she smiled as she took the jar.
"Wonderful," she said, looking down at the jar. "We're almost there. We're close."
Von Glower smiled a little himself. "I take it the ritual is something we can handle."
"Oh, yes," she said with a nod. "It's nothing complicated. If we can obtain the blood of a living relative, it will be a piece of cake – and… well, getting someone's blood won't even be the oddest thing I've had to do," she laughed, then, "We have some time, though. Until the new moon. We can get von Zell's heart meanwhile… and we already know a relative of his that could help out once we explain her how things went. If she doesn't think we're crazy and call the police, I mean."
"I can Change at will," von Glower said quietly. "I could do that in front of her if the situation calls for it. To prove we're not insane."
Grace nodded. "Yes, sounds like a good idea. Maybe it would help me, too. Some days I think of the situation and question my own sanity. This should have been over already, but-" she trailed off as she realized what she was saying really meant – you should have died in the theatre.
Von Glower immediately sense her uneasiness. "Yes, it should have," he said quietly. "I know that now."
"I… no, that's not what I meant. Look-"
"Miss Nakimura, it is quite alri-"
"Grace."
Von Glower trailed off and gave her a quizzical glance. "Excuse me?"
"Enough with the 'Miss Nakimura' crap, I guess it's been going on for enough time," she said, glancing down at the jar containing Ludwig's heart before smiling a little. "If walking in a holy shrine with a silver penis doesn't show you want to make up for it all, nothing does."
He stared at her for a few more moments before he smiled. "Friedrich," he simply said, and to Grace it felt like they had shaken hands or something close. She gave him a brief nod.
"Is it…?"
"Not my birth name, no. But I grew quite fond on it. It will do."
"Fine," she said somewhat awkwardly, then she changed subject. "As I said, we have a some time until the night of new moon – a couple of weeks or so. I was told that the heart's condition doesn't matter in the ritual, but I think it wouldn't hurt getting von Zell's heart before it… rots… too much," she finished, not really liking the thought. From what she had gathered, the body had been hidden somewhere in the forest for well past two months now – it couldn't be a nice thing to see or smell, let alone to cut open.
Von Glower nodded. "Yes, I agree. I will take care of it myself – I have no intention to burden you with such an unpleasant task."
Grace nodded, not about to argue with him over that. "Fine. Where is the body anyway?"
"In the forest. The cave Gabriel found was not the only one. There is another smaller one, several miles away from the lodge – a small one whose entrance is hidden. I brought the body there. I wrapped it in plastic and left it inside, then I blocked the entrance with rocks and dirt."
"I see," Grace said. She assumed that the plastic was meant to keep the smell of rotting flesh inside the cave so that it wouldn't attract the dog used for the search. Still… would that really be enough to keep away trained search dogs? It clearly had been, for the body hadn't been found, but…
"In case you were wondering," von Glower added, "I do believe one of the reasons why the dogs failed to find the body was that I wrapped it in plastic near the lodge, so they had no trace left to follow. Even if they were to find themselves close to the body's hiding place… I don't think they'd approach," he said, and gave an odd smile. "Dogs are aware of what can be a danger for them, and avoid it. I'm sure that if they got close enough to smell the body through plastic, they also were close enough to smell something else – werewolves."
The thought made Grace shiver just a little; there were moments when she almost forgot she was talking to someone who could leave his human hide for a beastly one any moment. How could she forget that after seeing the Black Wolf with her own eyes, and so up close? "Speaking of that," she finally said, "in a few days there will the full moon. I take it you and Gabriel will…?"
Von Glower nodded. "Yes. Neither him nor I can resist the pull of the full moon. There are about two days left, correct?"
"Yes. There will be a full moon on Saturday night, and I'm worried the people in Rittersberg could-"
"Well, what they'll do kind of depends on whether or not a certain someone will behave."
Grace trailed off, and both her and von Glower turned to see Gabriel staring at them with a smirk, head tilted to one side. "Didn't hear me coming, eh? Must have been one interesting conversation. And hey, you're both still in one piece. Great. I met Mose on my way back, by the way. Good to know we have one heart, at least."
Von Glower smiled a bit and opened his mouth to say that yes, he had been quite silent, but he closed it again without saying anything as he realized Gabriel was most likely stiff furious – how could he not be? – and would likely not welcome any praise from him. It was Grace to speak instead.
"What do you mean? How did the meeting go?"
"You first, Gracie. Is the ritual something we can get done without human sacrifices and stuff like that?"
She nodded. "Yes. It doesn't sound too difficult to get done," she said, and proceeded to tell both him and von Glower what she had learned from Amsel about the ritual – but keeping for herself what she had told her about the fact there was no possibility, as far as she knew, for Gabriel to be able to get rid of the curse without killing von Glower. Gabriel had already made it clear he wouldn't do it, and Grace herself wasn't fond on the idea; saying that wouldn't serve any purpose, especially not now that they had other priorities.
"So," von Glower said quietly when she finished speaking, looking incredibly relieved, "does means there is a chance for Garr, too?"
"Yes. From what I gathered, Ludwig will get to pass on to the afterlife after the ritual is complete: he never shed or tasted human blood, so nothing will be holding him back after it. As for von Zell, Amsel pretty much said he'll have to go through life again and that his fate will be decided by his actions in overcoming the… trials, or something like that, he may find," she said, and frowned a little. "I wonder if that just means he'll have to simply, you know… not murder anyone, or if there's something more to these 'trials' she spoke of."
"I honestly have no answer to that, but I suppose a second chance is all he will need," he said, and smiled a little wistfully. "He wasn't a bad person when we met. He truly was not. He could be… difficult, yes, and perhaps too arrogant for his own good. But he was no murderer."
"Unlike a certain someone," Gabriel muttered under his breath. His voice was too low for Grace to hear it, but it didn't escape von Glower's sensitive hearing. He stiffened, and Gabriel inwardly cursed himself as he realized he had heard him. Damn, he thought, he kept forgetting how damn good his hearing was. Not that he wasn't still furious over what von Glower had done – he was – but reminding him over and over when it was already so clear he was regretting it was just… kind of an asshole move. He didn't have to do that.
He finally cleared his throat and decided to change subject. "Anyway… yeah, guess the hard part here will be getting the blood we need. I mean, we could get von Zell's charming niece into giving some of hers if we tell her what the fuck happened, but hell if I know how we can get some relative distant relative of Ludwig to willingly give theirs."
Grace sighed. "Maybe the fact this doesn't even sound like the hardest thing we had to do should worry me."
"Perhaps," von Glower said slowly, "if we find one who happens to also be a blood donor, we could try to… acquire their blood. It would still be, as you said, willingly given and not taken by force from its source."
Gabriel blinked. "Hey, that sounds like a good idea," he admitted. "Guess I'll ask Harry to look up for Ludwig's descendants and their relatives, too. Meanwhile we could, uh… go get von Zell's heart? We're still a couple of weeks away from the next new moon, and maybe we should… freeze it meanwhile? Before it rots too much?" he asked, though realizing it had to be pretty much rotten by now anyway, and with a bullet in it to boot. Good thing the ritual didn't need the heart to be fresh, he thought, and once again chased away the horrible memory of Wolfgang's heart still weakly beating on the stone altar in Africa.
Von Glower nodded. "Yes, I think that the sooner we take it, the better it is."
"Great. We're going tomorrow. It's going to rain for a few days after that and hey, no reason to make a disgusting job even worse by having to do it under a downpour or something. Is the body still in the forest?"
"Yes. But you do not need to concern yourselves – I could go by myself, and-"
"No," Gabriel cut him off. "You're not going anywhere alone for a while. I kinda promised that. And yeah, I know you were at the shrine earlier, but it was before I promised, so it doesn't count, right?" he gave a sheepish grin. "I told them I'd keep you in sight until the full moon."
"Until full moon?" Grace repeated, frowning. "How did the meeting go? What did they said about… well, about letting him…?" she paused, feeling a little uncomfortable. She could see that, from near the door, Gerde was listening in silence.
Gabriel shrugged. "Well, old Werner Huber kept saying stuff about burning him at the stake, but in the end I managed to calm most of them down," he turned to von Glower. "Guess the fact the Talisman doesn't hurt you helped. That, and the fact you… damn, I can't believe you pretty much let them hold a gun to your head. What were you thinking?"
A weak smile curled von Glower's lips, although his stomach clenched at the memory of the sobs wracking Sepp Huber's chest as he held a gun to the head of one of those responsible for his young daughter's gruesome death and was still unable to pull the trigger. "I supposed I wasn't precisely thinking straight."
Gabriel sighed. "Whatever. Just… stop trying to get yourself killed, okay? I mean, really – I didn't know keeping your alive would become my day job. Hell, I'm pretty sure I'm doing the contrary of what the Schattenjäger job description says. Don't make it more of a pain in the ass than it already is."
Grace gave a sound that sounded almost like a chuckle before speaking. "So. What is it you agreed onto?"
"Er… yeah. Basically, they said they want proof he's not dangerous."
She frowned. "What, that's it? Come on! He's staying willingly while he could have escaped a million times and a half, walked out in front of all of them and just stood there at gunpoint while he could have turned into a werewolf and try to make his way out of them or take hell knows how many of them down with him – what other proof do they want?" Grace asked in exasperation, completely missing the surprised and somewhat grateful look von Glower was giving her.
Gabriel looked surprised as well, but he clearly decided not to address to the matter. "They're stubborn guys. They know he's controlled and not dangerous in his human form by now, but they want to be sure he won't go on a killing rampage once in his beastly one," Gabriel explained, giving a meaningful glance to von Glower. "That's the catch. You don't get to be out of my sight until full moon, when you – and me, I guess – Change again. They want to see you as a wolf, under the influence of the full moon. As far as they're concerned, your life depends on how you'll behave then," he added, and he was sure von Glower could fully understand that they weren't the only ones who thought that: he had clearly told him he would kill him if he were to attack humans ever again after all.
Von Glower nodded. "I won't give anyone any reason to think I'm dangerous," he said quietly.
"Will you be able to control yourself?" Grace asked, looking at Gabriel a little worriedly.
Gabriel reached to scratch the back of his head. "Well, I guess I will. I mean, I managed in the theater. Can't see why I shouldn't this time," he added, and grinned a little. "As long as no one waves one of Huber's sausages in front of my nose, I'll behave."
"Please, never say anything about sausages in front of me ever again," Mosely's groan reached their ears. They turned to see he had returned from his quest to retrieve the car.
"Hey, Mose," Gabriel greeted him with a grin. "Feeling better? Had some bonding time with the toilet?"
"Fuck you, Knight," Mosely growled. "You know I went to take back the car. I got enough glares on my way back to drill a hole in my skull, by the way, so you'd better tell me you settled things. Last thing I want is having to face those guys with guns again."
"Yeah, I did. Did you doubt that?" Gabriel reached to run a hand through his hair. "I always had more charm than you do, Mose. What I want I get, in case you forgot."
Mosely rolled his eyes. "You ass," he muttered before glancing at Grace and von Glower, clearly knowing that he had to ask them for a serious answer. "So, anyone care to sum up the situation for me?"
Well, Elsa thought as she sat at her desk and looked down at the map, at least that had been easy: finding the map she had seen in her dream hadn't been difficult at all, especially since it was in the same exact drawer where she had seen Garr von Zell putting it into in her dream. If she had already known there was something going on that went beyond her comprehension, now that certainty was airtight.
"I'll need a vacation after this," she muttered to the empty room, lighting herself a cigarette and taking a long drag. She exhaled slowly and finally focused on the map once more, her right hand's index finger reaching to tap on the same exact spot where her uncle had tapped in her dream – a point where two rivers joined. She squinted a little to make out the tiny writing above each river.
"The Black Regen and the White Regen," she read. "Is that really where you are? Right where they join?"
No answer, but of course she hadn't been expecting one to begin with. Or had she? With all that was happening, she didn't think it would have surprised her. Oh well, she supposed there was only one way for her to find out: she would leave for a little trip the next morning. She had heard the area was lovely that time of the year after all.
If his body is really there, it can't be a pretty sight after all this time. Far from 'lovely'.
The sudden thought made her bit her lower lip and for a moment she was tempted to call the police and request a search in the area rather than going herself – but what could he tell them? 'Search the area because I had this dream'? Sure, they were so going to listen and wouldn't think her to be insane at all.
Granted, Elsa was starting to have doubts on her own sanity, but that was no good reason to advertise it.
No, she'd go herself. And if she found the body… then she'd call the police. She wasn't sure what excuse she'd come up with since she doubted they'd believe she had just casually found her uncle's corpse while strolling in the woods, but she'd think of something. Besides, if she really found it they sure would have other questions to concern themselves about… such as 'who murdered him' and 'why'. Because she was sure he had been murdered – he had told her so himself, hadn't he?
"But who did?" Elsa heard herself asking before looking down at something else she had found in the same drawer as the map, something she had stared at for several moments before deciding to take them with her – photographs. A bunch of photographs that could be perhaps a couple of years old at most, all of them showing Garr von Zell with a tall man with shoulder-length, curly black hair. They were both dressed in hunting clothes, and in several of them they were posing with their fallen preys. She was pretty sure the other man had to be Baron von Glower: the men at the hunting club had said they were… close, after all, at least before they had apparently had a fallout, and that they went hunting together often.
Still, the pictures themselves weren't what had really caught her attention: the truly interesting thing about them was that they were… damaged. Most of them showed signs of having been torn apart, often in more than two pieces, and then they had been put together again with tape. And with care, too: some of the pictures had been fixed so carefully, so perfectly that it would have been hard telling they had been torn apart at all hadn't it been for the tape on the back. She could just picture her uncle sitting at his desk and painstakingly putting them back together, and for some reason the thought both angered and saddened her.
Elsa shook his head to get rid of the sensation and traced von Glower's features in one picture with a finger. What had caused him and Garr von Zell to fall apart like that? Had von Glower's growing interest in Gabriel Knight been the cause? No, it couldn't be – Preiss had said things hadn't been working between them for a while before Knight came in the picture. Or maybe it had been the last straw? Maybe it had been. Maybe it had been enough for Garr von Zell to lose it, to get angered, and then… then… then what?
Elsa closed his eyes and tried to think back of what she knew of the night when her uncle had disappeared. He had been out in the woods for a nocturnal hunt with von Glower and Gabriel Knight of all people. Only the three of them, armed, in the woods. The thought Knight could have killed him, maybe out of jealousy, had crossed her mind more than once – how could it not? – but it made so little sense. He was the one in favor, and his position didn't seem to be threatened: there was no reason why he should take it as far as killing von Glower's previous… friend. On the other hand… what if Garr von Zell truly had lost it?
Perhaps Gabriel Knight had not been the one with murderous intention that night in the woods, she thought. Perhaps von Zell had meant to be the hunter, but was cornered by his own prey. Maybe Knight, or von Glower, shot him to defend themselves and then hid the body – wouldn't that make sense?
It did. As much as she disliked the idea, it really did make sense. Maybe-
The sudden ringing of the phone made her wince, snapping her from her thoughts. She shook her head as though to clear her mind and reached for the phone. "Hello?"
"Hi, Elsa. It's Wilhelm. I have some information on von Glower," Wilhelm's voice came from the other side of the line. He sounded somewhat… hesitant, as though wondering if calling her had been a good idea. That immediately got her fullest attention in a way not even his words could.
"Great. I'm listening."
"Well…" that hesitant tone again. "He was not born in Germany. I could trace his family line up to 1871 – when his grandfather was given lands and a title from Bismarck himself. It was one Rudolf von Glower. He left Germany in 1890, though, to go abroad. There is no other trace of him."
"What, is that all?"
"About him, yes. It is all. But later, in… just a moment…" There was a sound of shuffling papers. "Here. So, in 1927 his son arrived from abroad. Endro von Glower. He claimed back the title and lands, and stayed in Germany for some more time. Then he left as well, in 1942. No more trace of him, either. He seems to have fallen off the face of Earth like his father before him. And then, in 1970-"
"Baron Friedrich von Glower comes back in Germany to reclaim his father's legacy," Elsa cut him off before taking another drag from her cigarette and exhaling, her brow furrowed in thought – if that was the case, she was seeing a pattern there. "Is that right?"
"Yes," Wilhelm confirmed. "And he still lives in Germany, as you know. And he's rather wealthy, too."
"A look at his residence was enough to tell me that, really," she said with a dry laugh before frowning again. "So let's see if I got this straight – the pattern here is that the father goes abroad, leaving no trace, and the son comes back out of nowhere to reclaim his legacy."
"Yes," Wilhelm said. "But it happened twice, and that's hardly a pattern. Some people just don't like settling."
Elsa supposed it was a reasonable answer, but for some reason it didn't quite sit well with her. "Tell me one thing – were you able to find any certificates?"
"W-what?" he immediately began stuttering, and Elsa smirked.
Bull's-eye.
"I asked if you found any certificates," she repeated slowly. "Death certificates, for example. You said Rudolf and Endro von Glower seem to have fallen off the face of Earth, but they've got to have died somehow. So, could you find trace of either's death certificate?"
"I… no. But since I don't really know where they went-"
"And what about Friedrich von Glower?" she pressed on. All that was very suspicious, and kind of ominous.
A pause. "L-listen, there can't be any death certificate for that von Glower. He's alive."
Else smiled. Nice try, Wilhelm, she thought. "I wasn't referring to his death certificate. I know he's alive, thank you so much. What I'm asking is if you have any idea where he comes from, where he was born… and if you found any trace of his birth certificate."
Another silence, longer than the previous one.
"I take it you didn't," Elsa said quietly. She had no idea what that all meant, or how it was related in any way to that whole mess with her uncle, but… but it was odd, very odd. And she felt it was important, somehow.
"I… no," Wilhelm said, sounding all the world like he was being forced to say something he really didn't want to say. "But I don't know where he was born. Once I find out, I'm sure I'll also find-"
"Don't bother," Elsa heard herself saying. "It isn't important."
"I… alright," he sighed. "Look, I… don't really like all this. Call it intuition-"
"Wilhelm."
"What?"
"I hate to burst your bubble, but you're not an intuitive person by any stretch of imagination."
A groan escaped him. She could just see him running a hand through his hair in frustration, and almost chuckled. "Fine. Call it any way you want, but I don't like this. So…don't get yourself in trouble, alright?"
She wasn't planning on letting him know she was about to go hiking through a forest looking for her uncle's corpse before, let alone now. She was however surprised to realize his worry made her smile rather than annoying her. "Don't worry, I won't. In fact, I'll take a day off tomorrow. I think I'll have a long walk in the nature," she added, looking down at the map.
The best part was that it wasn't even a lie.