Christoph examined it front and back, shocked.
“The bird, do you recognize it?” she said.
Christoph gnawed his lip. “It’s familiar. You say it’s on sugar? Is it a brand?”
“No, it’s their calling card. Sugar cubes are a warning hiding in plain sight that can be dropped by any café employeeorany patron.”
“This message was delivered to me, here,” said Fernando.
“No one will talk,” said Sterling. “Fernando says even the Google won’t discuss it.”
Fernando covered his eyes, shaking his head. She wasn’t sure why.
“Why ask me?” said Christoph.
“Because we found this symbol in my bedroom at the Hotel, in Serafina’s little hiding spot by the fireplace, on wallpaper she covered decades ago,” she said.
“That’swhere it’s from? I don’t remember the pattern, just how hideous that room was when she moved in,” he said. “It had water damage on the walls. We helped her paint over it.”
“You remember anything else?”
He leaned back. “Nothing relevant. Those were good times, lots of people hung out in her room. I miss Serafina’s parties.” He crossed his arms. “That’s the problem, dear, they were wild, and decades ago. The way we drank, I doubt I remembered much more back then. Have you asked your boss?”
“He was still a kid then. I asked Rita, she’s lived there for decades, and she never heard of Nightingale.”
With a snide glance, he said, “Oh, please, she’ll say anything to defend Kleinmann.”
“Set your spat aside for once. This is serious. Nightingale’s dangerous, I think they killed Hedy.”
Fernando backed her up. “She’s right. There was a mystery man inside the Orient that night, the Third Man. We don’t know how he got in, but we think he’s part of Nightingale, maybe their leader.”
“Then it’s foolish to have come here,” said Christoph.
“Or a perfect way to lure them out.”
A passerby, tipsy on afternoon beer, bumped their table. He caught himself on the coat rack, and mistakenly apologized to the coats as though they were a person.
Sterling continued. “Yesterday, Rita gave me a box from Serafina, but she doesn’t have the key. I’m hoping you do. Vieta’s design, so the lock can’t be picked.”
Christoph tensed, irritated. “I don’t have it. And I can’t fathom why Serafina would trust something to Rita, not me! What’s inside? Any chance it’s Serafina’s missing money? I wouldn’t put it past that witch.”
She smacked the table, shaking the empty cups. “Stop it! I can’t believe you’re still bickering over money. I don’t know what’s inside, but I won’t find out unless you start acting like an adult.”
Christoph went still. They sat in awkward silence. Clocks ticked. Cups clacked. Newspapers rustled.
“Perhaps, if you cleaned your disaster of a room for once, you’d find it,” said Christoph.
He had a point.
Their waiter appeared with the bill, something you usually had tobattle for. Normally, the only reliable way to quickly draw a Viennese server’s attention was break a glass.
The elderly couple one booth over hastily donned their jackets, attempting to flee the tension. Fernando looked ready to do the same.
Christoph looked back.“Oida!”he shouted, snapping his fingers at the couple. “Hey, wrong jacket.”
The old man lifted the lapels, inspecting them. He gave a hearty apologetic laugh and returned Christoph’s gray coat, then took his own. His wife scolded him about seeing Dr. Someone-or-other for his cataracts as they walked away.
After paying, Christoph checked the time and announced he had an appointment. He tried to scooch out of the booth, but Fernando blocked him. “If you still want that audition, get out of my way.”
