Matt Rider is made an offer that seems too good to miss. Go to Prague, find some priceless music manuscripts – and share in a fortune. Unfortunately, even for a confident backstreet PI, the clues are rather thin on the ground. All Matt knows is that a young Jewish girl called Hana Eisler had the manuscripts in Prague in 1942.
Using old records from the Helios Music Academy in England, Matt tracks Hana’s movements to a Nazi concentration camp in the Czech Republic. And there the trail seems to end.
The American violin teacher at the Helios Academy claims to know something about Hana’s family. And so does the Academy dean. Matt decides to contact Hana in a séance.
Taking place in England and the Czech Republic, Academy of the Dead is an exciting hunt for lost treasure and a missing child. There are big stakes to play for – and maybe not everyone can be trusted.
Academy of the Dead is the third Matt Rider detective thriller.
ISBN-
216 pages
PROLOGUE
Masaryk Railway Station
Prague
Czechoslovakia
1942
HANA EISLER IS twelve years old. She stands on the railway platform, clutching her precious music case, waiting for the train that will take her to safety before the soldiers come. Puddles of water from the heavy downpour have soaked through her thin shoes on the hurried walk from Papa’s house in the Josefov district. Her long blue coat, the junior uniform for the Academy, has kept her shivering body dry.
Hana looks up at the platform clock. The train is already sixteen minutes late. She dares not ask the porter if it is coming soon. Jews have a distinctive way of speaking—so her father says. Maybe the German soldiers won’t ask for her papers if she keeps her mouth shut. She grips the brown leather case more tightly to her chest. She closes her eyes, swallows hard, and opens them again. Nathania Tischler, the violin teacher at the Helios Music Academy here in Prague once told her to do this before coming on stage for a concert. Nathania Tischler said it calms the nerves and concentrates the mind. Hana knows her mind is concentrated, but her nerves feel far from calm.
Mama and her little sister Rosa died yesterday. Papa hasn’t told her how they died, and she is afraid to ask. Papa tells her she must be brave. Terrible things are happening. Apart from her Papa, all the Jews she knew in Prague are dead or taken away—even Nathalia Tischler. The Nazis say they’re cleaning up the city. The big girls at the Academy tell stories of Jewish girls being raped—in such detail that she sometimes lies awake in bed and lives out of the horrifying ripping of her clothes, the sweating, stinking German soldier pressing down on her body.
The battered music case once belonged to great grandfather Vasek, then grandmother
Pavla, then Papa, and now it has been given to her. Papa says that music runs through
the family veins with the life-
Hana hears the train approaching, sees the tall plume of smoke rising over the distant trees at the foot of the hill. For a moment she believes she is out of danger. The train is coming to take her east, to her aunt and uncle’s farm in Ústí. Suddenly she hears the noise of an approaching truck and the excited shouts of soldiers.
Papa says the manuscripts in the leather case are her insurance. “Hana,” he told her less than an hour ago, with tears in his eyes, “if the soldiers stop you at the railway station, you must ask to see the captain and offer the papers in return for your safety.”
Safety? All last night in the damp attic room hiding with Papa she has imagined this moment. Yes, the German captain will take the manuscripts, and then he and his men will have her body—before killing her. She turns. The train has slowed to a crawl beyond the trees. The plume of smoke is rising straight up into the gray sky. The soldiers will be here first.
CHAPTER 1
England
The present
“MY PARTNER IS having an affair. With one of the teaching staff at the Academy.”
The well-
Ken forced a smile that seemed to lack confidence as he moved back in his seat. “I’m sure we can help. My company…specializes in this sort of thing.” He swung round to Matt, clearly in need of support.
Matt Rider decided to stay silent and let his boss dig his own holes. Habgood Securities
didn’t specialize in anything. At least, not in the two years he’d been working for
the back-
“I don’t want sneaky surveillance,” the visitor continued, a man in his fifties wearing a dark gray suit. He had introduced himself as Edward Blake, the dean at the English branch of the Helios Music Academy.
“Surveillance has to be sneaky,” Ken Habgood told him. “Otherwise you get noticed.”
“Oh, I want this to be noticed,” Blake insisted, in an annoyingly booming voice. “I want all the bells and whistles.” As he spoke, the air hissed loudly through his nose, spoiling his impression of sophistication.
Ken frowned but kept quiet.
“It’s like this, Mr. Habgood. I want them to know they’ve been well and truly caught.
And I want it on film.” Blake smiled and his frosty attitude seemed to melt a little
as he moved away from Ken’s tidy desk. “They meet at the Academy swimming-
Matt noticed Ken give a vague smile as he nodded.
“Unfortunately the pool has a high wall round it.” The thaw was short-
“Right.” Ken seemed to be discovering his voice again.
“I’m sorry,” Blake said. “I’m finding this a bit of an ordeal. What I’m trying to convey is you’ll have your work cut out getting photographs.”
“I presume you have some sort of plan to share with us.” Matt didn’t take to this oily man who’d arrived late for his appointment.
Blake seemed to notice Matt for the first time. “The pool will be closing soon, so we have to hurry. This Indian summer isn’t going to last. I’m accompanying the students to London for a concert tomorrow, and the staff are coming with me, which means the Helios Academy will be empty. You know what they say: ‘when the cat’s away the mice will play.’”
“What do we do, climb a ladder with a camera and a piece of cheese?” Ken asked, grinning at Matt. “Matt could blow a trumpet. That would get their attention.”
Edward Blake stood at the window, his back to the room. Maybe he didn’t understand Ken’s idea of humor. “I wondered about using a long telephoto from the top of the Mount, but the damn hilltop is the best part of two miles away. Anyway, I need them to know they’ve been photographed.”
“So how do we get close enough?” Matt asked.
“You could try climbing the wall around the pool, but unfortunately my partner has a dog. The thing goes berserk as soon as anyone strange comes within a hundred yards. I don’t know how she puts up with it.”
“And the dog will be there?” Matt thought back with some anxiety to previous canine encounters.
“Too right it will. You’ll have to get over the wall to the pool quickly, before it makes a noise. You’d better have a look at these.” Blake pulled a black wallet from the inside pocket of his jacket and removed two creased photographs.
Ken took them and passed them on to Matt.
“You can’t see the pool,” Blake explained. His voice and his body language now seemed more helpful. Matt guessed it must be hard to come to strangers and admit to your partner’s betrayal.
The two color prints showed the outside of a high wall built of concrete blocks, taken from ground level. But in the background Matt could see the top of the hill known as the Mount. He had to take Blake’s word that there was a swimming pool behind the wall. If it wasn’t for the dog, Ken’s suggestion of a ladder seemed almost sensible. He handed the photos back to Ken.
Ken returned them to the dean and looked anxious. “Do you have any suggestions on how we proceed, Mr. Blake? A helicopter perhaps?”
“Far too expensive,” Blake snapped. “And noisy. They’d hear it coming”
“It was a joke,” said Ken, grinning foolishly again.
Blake sighed heavily. “You’re the experts. Why don’t you think of something?”
“But the pool can be seen from the air?” Matt asked. He could see how it might be done. Quick, cheap, and extremely noticeable. Just as long as Zoé didn’t find out in advance.
“Of course it can,” the suave visitor insisted.
“And the mice will be playing tomorrow?”
Blake looked interested. “The man is pretending to be sick, so he’s excused himself from coming to London. My partner will be cavorting with him by the pool between two and three o’clock. Guaranteed.”
“Tomorrow is a bit short…” Ken started to protest.
“No trouble,” Matt cut in. Blake might have an attitude problem, but they couldn’t afford to lose this job. “I can be there with a camera.”
“And a helicopter?”
Matt decided to ignore the sarcasm. “I’ve got it cracked.”
Ken frowned but the Academy dean seemed pleased. “I don’t want any digital stuff. I want old fashioned film. And I’ll get it processed myself, thank you.”
“Naturally.” Ken stood up from his desk. “It’s standard practice to hand all evidence to the client.” Thin and smartly dressed like Blake, but with untidy features, Ken was the tallest in the room. He gave Matt a look that said, I hope you know what you’ve let me in for.
Edward Blake pointed to Matt. “Just make sure you come back with plenty of pictures. Clear ones.”
“He will,” Ken said, with more confidence than Matt felt was deserved. “Do I send the bill to you or to the Helios Academy?
“Send the invoice to me. This is private business.” Blake laughed uneasily. “I hope you understand.”
Ken nodded sympathetically. “All our business is confidential. If I can help further, let me know. I have a good contact with a local lawyer.”
Blake looked up quickly. “Lawyer?”
“In case there’s a messy separation,” Matt interrupted. “Isn’t this what the job is about?” The man needed putting in his place.
Edward Blake moved closer. His breath whistled down his nose. “Don’t forget, if that dog barks just once, my partner will know someone’s around. I want you to take the photographs before they put their clothes on. And I need to see their faces clearly. I hope you know what you’re doing.”
“I know what I’m doing.” Matt tried to appear positive. His plan was good, but it required a fair bit of luck along the way.
If you want to know what happens next, you will have to buy the book! Available as a paperback, or in several electronic formats for immediate download. Try one of these sites, or most other internet booksellers:
© 2008 Chris Wright
