The first night after guests have gone, the house

Seems haunted or exposed.

- Robert Frost

Watson

"Lachlan, don't you even think about picking up that suitcase!" Haight bellowed at the stubborn seaman before even I could, as the man bent to pick up a large valise.

Lachlan shot the fellow a very irritated glare until he saw me backing the reporter up, and then he sighed and dropped the bag. Holmes grinned and took it from him, heading out the door with Mueller to finish loading the sleigh.

"I really feel bad about you not coming to town, Doctor," Haight said, turning to me with a frown. "You have to be getting a little stir-crazy here."

I shrugged, a bit regretfully. "There's only room for three, besides Keller. And besides Holmes had some investigation he wanted me to do here; if we split forces we shall get twice as much work done today and he is quite impatient about getting a move on the case."

"Don't get too much done, Doctor," Lachlan said with a twinkle, "we don't want to miss the climax. Think you can hold off a week on those ghost hunts?"

I laughed and glanced at Holmes as he stamped in, shaking snow off his boots. "Not a chance, I'm afraid."

"Right then," the sailor said, the twinkle fading from his eyes slightly as he shook my hand warmly. "Take care of yourself and that detective – and that lad there," he added, as Alfie came running up, munching on a piece of coffeecake.

"Alfie, I told you no more cake!" I exclaimed, for that was the lad's fourth piece that morning (and those four were the ones he had not sneaked, to the best of my knowledge).

"But Miss Claudia said –"

"Better watch that woman, Doctor, she's got her course charted for you," Lachlan whispered confidentially.

I felt my face turn scarlet, and the midshipman laughed and clapped me on the back, slinging his last smaller bag over his shoulder and nodding to Keller, who was patiently waiting in the doorway.

"We'll see you in a week, Doctor," he called over his shoulder with a wave. Haight bobbed his head in a quick farewell to me and chucked a snowball at Alfie before making a dash for the sleigh, a whooping Irregular at his heels.

Holmes grinned and caught the lad's collar with one hand, fairly dragging him back to me despite his squirming.

"Alfie, you are to do exactly as Dr. Watson says today, do you understand me?" he said sternly.

Alfie nodded and said something round a mouthful of crumbs.

"I take it that was a garbled affirmative. Now, Watson," he continued, buttoning his coat, "I meant what I said – do not under any circumstances go anywhere by yourself outside this castle, and definitely no more secret passages that could possibly lock on you, there's a good chap?"

His demeanour and tone were light and teasing, but I could see the undisguised worry lurking in the back of his grey eyes as he met mine.

"I shall be careful," I replied with a small smile.

"Remember, the wood storerooms, the stables, the outbuildings – with a companion other than Alfie, of course – the women, and anything else you think could be of value. I shall do the boring researching part of our investigation and we will compare notes this evening."

I nodded, handing him his hat. He flashed me a warm smile before mashing it down upon his head and heading out the door with a careless wave, hopping up beside Haight in the sleigh. Lachlan glanced back at me as Alfie took hold of my trouser leg and raised a hand in farewell as Keller cracked the whip and the sleigh began to move with a spray of snow.

"Oi don' wannem ta leave," Alfie sniffled miserably, wiping coffeecake crumbs off his mouth.

"Nor do I, lad," I sighed, shutting the door against the icy wind and very much wishing I could have gotten out of this gothic house for a few hours at least.

"What're yew gonna do now, Doctor, wit'out Mr. 'Olmes 'ere?"

What, indeed? I had not felt quite so lost since the case had started, but Holmes had given me a job to do (several, actually) and I was going to carry them out to the best of my limited ability, hoping that I should do an acceptable job in his absence.

I glanced at my watch with a sigh, trying to bring myself out of the rather depressed melancholy mood that had settled upon my by the departure of my three friends.

"Yew oll roight, Doctor?"

I smiled at the lad's endearingly worried face as he glanced up at me. "We've only an hour before luncheon, Alfie, so I shan't really do anything until afterwards. What would you like to do?"

The child's eyes crossed mischievously, and he took me entirely by surprise by poking me soundly in the ribs (or as near as he could reach up).

"Tag, you're it!"

Thank heaven the ladies had taken themselves upstairs to a library with Sir August and the Count after breakfast. The staff and even Strauss laughing at a full-grown Englishman chasing a shrieking child down a stone corridor I could deal with, but being seen in such an undignified position by the women would have been more than slightly embarrassing.

Holmes

I clasped Haight's hand warmly before he climbed into the compartment to stow his and Lachlan's bags on the overhead racks. I did not think that I had ever seen his face so melancholy since the first time I had met him.

Lachlan came up behind me, and passed his bag up to his friend before turning to me with a heavy sigh.

"I must tell you, Holmes, I don't feel confident in leaving you and the Doctor alone in that dreary place, folk can get up to a lot of mischief in such secluded places."

"Then perhaps it is better that you do leave," I reasoned. "You're not in the best of shape, my friend, and I have every confidence that you will be better able to recover away from here with your tenacious bodyguard."

Lachlan laughed dryly, shooting an affectionate look at his comrade. "The lad clings to me like a leech, Holmes…though it puzzles me as to why."

I nodded. "Mmm, I am familiar with that particular type of confusion. He'll stick with you through thick and thin old fellow…vows made in storms, remember?"

That brought an actual smile though it faded fairly quickly to be replaced by consternation, his blond brows drawing together in frustration.

I clapped a hand on his shoulder briefly. "Don't trouble yourself, Lachlan. Watson and I have been through worse than this; it is not your fight to worry about."

The midshipman looked at me sharply, slumped as though a weight of great magnitude had settled on his shoulders. "You are both my friends, Holmes, you and the Doctor as well as Renie…and that does make it my fight, and I cannot help but feel that I am abandoning the both of you in favor of business."

I met his gaze steadily and allowed a measure of emotion to creep into my voice. "We'll be all right."

He nodded, clasped my hand, and then pulled himself into the compartment. "See that you are…and thank you, Holmes, for everything."

"Goodbye, Midshipman."

I closed the door and stepped back as the train began to strain and screech as it started off.

"You'll hear from us within the week," Haight called, poking his head out the window.

I waved, seeing my gesture returned before the train finally went into motion and with a great chuffing and bilious cloud of steam pulled away from the station, leaving me to watch after it until it had disappeared into the great white expanse of the Bavarian countryside.

I sighed and pulled my coat up higher around my neck. It really was bitterly cold out here, even at midday, and I had business to do. I wished there had been room for Watson in the sleigh with us; I could very much use his company, tact, and his aid as a sounding board in my investigations today. But he was not here, and so I stiffened my resolve (and my muscles, for it was absolutely sub-arctic here!) and walked toward the station house to see about shipments of dry ice. Surely in a small village such as this, the shipments of anything, much less dry ice, were few and far between and easily enough located.

It took me only a few moments to find the station master, for the town was small and informal and the man spent a great deal of his time lounging about in his office with a mug of coffee rather than overseeing his charge.

It took even less time and only a few coins to persuade him to let me look through the shipment ledgers that lay on strewn haphazardly across his desk. I only wished that the Purser and other staff on board the Friesland had been this cooperative when Watson and I had been looking for Culverton Smith; had they, the tragedies on that ship might have been averted.

I removed my gloves, flipped open the folder of cracked leather, and flipped through the pages, some tattered with faded ink and some crisp and newly added, all of them covered in stains from food and various other viscous substances.

I turned to the newer pages and began at a point two weeks back, working my way to today's entry, which was fresh enough that the ink itself smeared at my touch (not that it wasn't smeared already thanks to the master's shoddy bookkeeping).

There had been three deliveries of the stuff in the past fortnight to come in by train, two to various people in the village who had every business ordering it…but I was gratified to find that the third had indeed arrived in the name of the count and was of a quantity large enough not only to produce the fog that Haight and I had seen that night over a week ago, but enough to do it more than once, indicating that the culprit intended for this ghostly apparition to appear again…and in the near future, for even in temperatures like these one could not store dry ice forever.

"Vielen dank," I said absently, closing the book and swiftly leaving the office, barely hearing the yawned response of the station master.

It had not been a very helpful discovery, merely confirming the hypothesis I had already concocted, but it if I could find which of the household had come to pick up the ice along with the other deliveries then I might be able to find where it had gone. It also had one other implication…as little interest as the Count appeared to take in the small domestic details of his household, it would be easy to slip such an order into the expenses without his notice. But to do so the individual who ordered it would have to be fairly high in position…someone who had the authority to look over the ledgers of the kitchen and so on.

One of the Count's household was in on this scheme, I now knew for certainty, and with a little luck and some tactful persuasion I should find out when I arrived back at the castle – that would be my foremost priority at this stage. I wished there were some way to get that news back to Watson, for the confirmation of my suspicions regarding one of the staff made me not a little uneasy that he and the boy would be running about the castle all afternoon without me.

But there was another line of inquiry that I had to follow while I was here, and, leaving the station, I strode into the center of the village to accomplish it, barely taking notice of the picturesque houses with their snow-laden roofs and frosted glass windows.

I navigated my way through the crowd that gathered inevitably in the crux of any community, dodging craftsmen, and mothers with bundles of squalling, red-faced children, making my way to the stables where Keller had sheltered our sleigh and horses for the time being. The early afternoon sun did nothing to warm the air, and my breath was crystallising round my head as I approached the stable.

I found the man brushing down the pair, murmuring to them in the manner of all good ostlers, comfortable and in his world of straw and well oiled tack-leather, competent in his handling of the great beasts as they snorted and stamped occasionally, warm breath curing up from their nostrils in the cold air.

"Keller," I said, entering the stable and shutting the door behind me to keep in what warmth there was.

He turned in some surprise. "Herr Holmes…you do not want to leave yet…it would be better if we allowed the horses some rest."

"No, no, my good man," I said, pulling off my hat, gloves, and overcoat. "I need to borrow your coat."

His surprise turned to outright confusion. "Herr Holmes?"

"Your coat, man. I'll return it, never fear. Where is the local pub?"

He shrugged out of the coat reluctantly at my beckoning, spluttering out directions.

I pulled on the thick wool jacket, snatched up some dirt from the floor and dusted it on my face and the backs of my hands.

"Danke, I'll be back in two hours, three at the most…have the horses ready, would you?"

Ever more puzzled, Keller nodded, putting on my discarded jacket and absently going back to his work, pulling out a blanket to drape over one of the horses.

I pulled up the collar of the borrowed coat to hide my own shirt and cravat, which were of a better quality than those of the men that I was about to join; as the wind was bitter and every intelligent person in the village was doing the same it would attract no notice. Adopting a slumping attitude completed the impromptu disguise, and though it was far from what I would have liked to employ, it would have to do on this occasion.

I followed Keller's instructions to the local tavern, where I shouldered my way through the small crowd that had already gathered after finishing their morning's work, finding a seat near some of the other occupants and ordering a glass of cheap beer which actually was passable, as most German brews were.

For a short while I said nothing but only listened to the other's chatter, waiting for an opening, and it was not long before I at last heard it from one particularly talkative, bearded drinker beside me, referring to the Count and the upcoming marriage.

I smiled into my mug before turning to join the conversation, thanking heaven that my German apparently was quite passable, and was quite gratified…what else had these people to talk about in such a small village?

It was an standard not only in England but throughout the globe…if one wanted to find out about the local gentry, the best place was the nearest public house. As I had told Watson more times than I could count, and he still insisted upon conveniently forgetting that fact when investigating on his own. I hoped his time at the castle was being spent wisely.

Watson

"Boo!"

I admit to yelping, quite startled, as that infernal child jumped out at me from behind a tapestry and then doubled over laughing when I stumbled backward in surprise.

"Alfred Weber!"

"Cor, blimey, Oi got both me names ag'in," he muttered, grinning like a smug cat at my annoyed glare.

I sighed, wishing to heaven there had been enough room for me in that sleigh this morning, and wondering wistfully if Lachlan and Haight's train had left Bavaria yet. Blasted American newspapers, making them leave while the seaman was still obviously recuperating, despite his hardy appearance. I ought to write to the editor…perhaps I would…

"Alfie, don't touch that!" I suddenly called, for the lad was fiddling with a large and very heavy battle-axe attached to one of the suits of armour.

"C'mon, Doctor, look. 'S been blunted, see?" the lad replied calmly, pointing out the dull edge.

I wondered for a moment at the child's observational skills before remembering that of course he was one of Holmes's best Irregulars. Alfie rolled his eyes at me and leant against the wall, pulling a piece of cake – another piece of cake? – out of his pocket, dusting off several lint balls and other substances that I really did not want to guess at their origins, and chomping down upon it with gusto.

"Alfie, we're having luncheon in less than an hour, and you'll spoil it!"

"Nah," (at least I believed that was what the child said round a mouthful of cake) "dnwryDoctrroilbefyn."

"Empty your mouth, lad," I said dryly, dusting crumbs off my jacket…oh, they were wet. Lovely.

Alfie gulpeddown his mouthful. "Oi'll still eat, Doctor, don' worry!"

"You had better," I admonished, taking a look at the map I was holding, for I never went anywhere in the castle without the diagrams as on one embarrassing occasion I had gotten lost without it and had taken two hours to find my way back to the main halls.

"Where we at?" the boy asked, peeking behind another tapestry.

"You made me chase you all over, Alfie, I'm trying to see," I growled, tracing the corridors. "You should know better than I; you were running around here with Mueller whilst Mr. Holmes and I were in Vienna."

"Well, but oll tha' fella did was put wood in oll the rooms and dust and count things," Alfie growled, "and go over books an' stuff."

"Go over books?"

"Well, y'know, loike ta decide what ta order fer the cook ta fix fer dinner. Oi asked 'im if'n 'e could get kippers, an' 'e didn' even know what they were, Doctor!"

I chuckled, for the lad looked absolutely scandalised at the idea of anyone not knowing what a kipper was. Finally I located our position on the diagram and turned our steps toward the dining hall, for I wanted to ask the Lady Cecilia a few questions.

Once we had reached the dining hall, we found it empty but I glimpsed the Lady going into the conservatory down the corridor and followed, leaving Alfie in the dining hall in a chair with strict instructions to stay there.

"Lady Cecilia?" I called before the door closed.

"Ja, Herr Doktor?" she returned pleasantly, leaving the door open and taking a seat, graciously motioning me to another facing her.

"Might I ask you something about this apparition you have been seeing?"

"Certainly, Herr Doktor," she had switched over to English out of graciousness to my slower German.

"When this ghostly woman appeared to you those few times, did you notice anything peculiar about her?"

The woman blinked for a moment. "Besides the fact that I was seeing what the legend refers to as the ghost of a cursed bride?" she asked with a small smile.

I laughed. "Yes, of course. I meant more about her appearance than anything else, Lady Cecilia."

"Her appearance?" the woman asked slowly, her fair brows drawing together slightly.

I nodded. "When I saw her the other night, I noticed that the woman's ghost was wearing a very modern wedding dress – modern in cut and style, and most definitely not medieval as one would think the legend to be. Did you notice that?"

I stopped my questions, for the lady had suddenly paled. "Lady Cecilia, are you –"

"I…am quite all right, Herr Doktor, Danke," she replied faintly. After taking a deep breath, she looked back at me in a bit more control. "I am afraid I was rather too frightened the times I saw her to notice that fact; I am sorry. What does that mean, then, Herr Doktor?"

"Simply that I believe you have less to fear than previously, for obviously the person behind the apparition is indeed just that, a living person," I said in what I hoped was a reassuring manner, "for only a living person would use a modern wedding dress."

I was quite startled at the intensity of the relief that flooded the Lady's features at my statement…Holmes was right, something was off about the woman. Why should she have been so very frightened of something, when that was obviously against her strong character? And why such intense relief upon my telling her we knew it for certain to be a living person?

I was about to put another question to her, but at that moment Lehmann stalked into the room and stiffly announced luncheon, shooting me a rather disdainful glance as I now had wrinkled the chair covering I had been sitting on.

As the Lady rose I hastily did as well and we set off for the dining hall. I trailed behind a bit, questions whirling through my brain with a staggering rapidity…and I hoped fervently that Holmes would decide to return from town early tonight so that he could make clear what was only a murky, clouded mess to my less apt mind.