A Matter of Breeding Read Online Free

scenes last night.
    As the breakfast room continued to fill, Gross decided to set off for the local gendarmerie to further investigate the crime-scene remnants firsthand. There were indeed a number of interesting and telling facets to the reports. Then, as he waved to the serving girl for his check, he was astounded to see a familiar face enter the room.
    ‘Werthen!’ he cried out. ‘How good to see you.’
    Some of the journalists familiar with the detective pair turned their heads at this outburst and then quickly exchanged comments with one another.
    Werthen was just as amazed to see Gross, who should have been in Czernowitz where he was the chair of the department of criminology at the Franz Josef University.
    ‘I had no idea you were involved in all this,’ Werthen said as he and Stoker came to Gross’s table.
    ‘Thielman, you’ll remember him,’ Gross said. ‘It was he who asked for my assistance on a pair of murders. I arrived only yesterday, just in time for the discovery of a third victim.’
    Indeed, Werthen did remember the fleshy Thielman whom Gross had so painstakingly trained as his assistant. Years ago now, it seemed, when Werthen had practiced criminal law in Graz before moving to Vienna.
    Gross directed his remarks at Werthen, but his inquiring eyes finally locked on Stoker.
    Werthen made quick introductions which hardly seemed to satisfy Gross, but Werthen did not feel like going into particulars at the moment.
    ‘Might I say what an honor it is to meet you, Doktor Gross. I am a keen follower of your work.’
    As opposed to ‘fan’, Werthen thought.
    Gross made a noncommittal grunt at this compliment, then said abruptly, ‘Let us leave this circus. As long as you are here, Werthen, I could use your help.’
    He stormed out of the breakfast room without further explanation, and Werthen followed, Stoker close behind. The Irishman made no protests, even though he had been looking forward to a second breakfast. The brioche and coffee they had on the early-morning train from Vienna was hardly enough for the burly writer.
    Werthen caught up with Gross as he was going through the front door of the hotel.
    ‘Where are we going, Gross?’
    ‘The local gendarmerie, of course.’
    Werthen turned to Stoker. ‘Perhaps you should see to that breakfast you wanted,’ he told the Irishman. ‘I will be back before noon.’
    ‘I would much rather accompany you chaps.’
    ‘I must steal your companion away for a few hours, Herr Stoker,’ Gross said. ‘I am sure you will understand. And there are all these journalists about who would, I am sure, be most eager to speak with the famous author of
Dracula.
’
    Werthen had not mentioned Stoker’s authorship of that novel, but of course Gross would know. The man seemed to know everything.
    Stoker’s eyes lit up in sudden inspiration. ‘Yes, that might be interesting.’
    They left him to his self-promotion and made their way on foot to police headquarters. En route they discussed their mutual cases.
    ‘I thought you had sworn off such work,’ Gross said, once Werthen explained his commission.
    ‘Schnitzler made a rather fervent argument, all for the good of the Empire.’
    ‘You were bored,’ Gross said.
    ‘I was in need of diversion, yes, I admit. But now I begin to wonder about the wisdom of accepting this case. Stoker complains of unsettling communications, yet he can produce none of these. Not a single letter or telegram. No description of whomever he thinks is following him around.’
    ‘More self-promotion?’ Gross said.
    Werthen shrugged. ‘Perhaps. If so, then the handsome fee from the Concordia will be easy enough to earn. But let us speak of more intriguing matters. What have you learned of these murders? Surely no vampires or Jewish ritual sacrifices, I hope.’
    Gross informed him of his discoveries on that score and then added, ‘More likely the work of a psychopath, or someone who wishes to make it appear so.’
    Werthen said nothing,