Presumed Dead Read Online Free Page B

into.
    By the time the orchestra finally packed
their instruments away, David was thoroughly relaxed. He took a stroll around
the town, and suddenly realized that he’d never been in such a peaceful, clean
place in all his life. The people were happy and friendly, the children were
well behaved, there was no litter or graffiti, no dog’s mess on the sidewalks,
no gangs of kids hanging around making trouble, nobody who looked like he
wanted to rip your head off. Walking the narrow streets, he felt completely
safe for the first time in his life. This place, he thought, is the absolute
antithesis of New York. No wonder Aunt Freda loved it so much.
     It was after five when he finally made his
way back to the car and drove two hundred yards along the quay to the
waterfront hotel where he’d booked a room in advance. The Beau Rivage Hotel
would normally have been way out of his price range at over two hundred dollars
a night, but he’d decided that since he would only be here in Weggis for one
night he would live in style, in memory of Aunt Freda. He pulled through the
gates into the small graveled car park and was just getting out of the car when
a wizened old man in a porter’s uniform approached saying, ‘Guten Abend, mein
Herr.’
    David couldn’t speak a word of German. ‘You
speak English?’ he asked hopefully.
    The old man smiled, ‘We all speak English
here at the Beau Rivage, sir. Can I take your suitcase?’
    David didn’t think the old man looked
strong enough to lift the heavy case, but handed it over anyhow, and was
surprised to see him carry it up the hotel’s steps and into the reception area
with ease. Inside, a pleasant receptionist, who also spoke perfect English,
greeted him and had him fill in a registration form before handing his room key
to the porter.
    While they were riding up in the lift,
David wondered if the old man might know anything about Aunt Freda, so he
asked, ‘Do you live here in Weggis?’
    ‘Yes sir, I have lived here all my life. It
is a very beautiful place.’
    ‘It sure is,’ David replied. ‘I had an aunt
who came from these parts, name of Freda von Alpenstein. Did you ever hear of
her?’
    ‘You are the nephew of the Baroness?’ the
old man asked incredulously. ‘From New York?’
    ‘That’s right! How did you know?’
    ‘I worked at the Schloss Alpenstein as
chauffeur to the Baron and Baroness for many years,’ he said fondly. ‘When the
Baroness came home from America after her brother had died, she spoke of
nothing but her fine American nephew and how he would soon be coming to visit.
I did not think it would take you twenty-five years to arrive!’
    David was choked. So she’d really meant it
about the vacation! And he couldn’t believe his luck, actually finding someone
who knew her. He followed the porter out of the lift and down the hall to his
room. Once inside, the old man put the suitcase down, and going to the balcony
doors, opened them wide beckoning David to follow him out. The balcony
overlooked the lake, which now had a golden hue on it from the setting sun. A
pair of pure white swans glided by on the mirror flat water creating V shaped
bow waves that glistened like fire as they caught the dying rays of the sun.
    The old man was pointing along the
coastline to a small wooded headland about a mile away. ‘You see where the land
sticks out into the lake there? That is where the Schloss Alpenstein stands. If
you look carefully, you can see part of it above the trees.’
    David followed the old man’s finger and
could see a gray pitched roof and two pepper-pot towers built from granite in
the seventeenth century Swiss style. In the fading light, the chateau had a
haunted air, but was everything he’d ever imagined it would be. ‘Who lives
there now?’ he asked.
    ‘After the death of the Baroness, her
husband put it up for sale and it was bought by a businessman, who converted it
into a luxury hotel and country club.’
    ‘Do you think they