Crime (and Lager) (A European Voyage Cozy Mystery—Book 3)

port, many of the one hundred passengers aboard eitherjoined a planned tour or took off on their own adventures. When the Nachtmusikwas traveling between ports, it was up to London to make sure they wereentertained.
Actually her job was even more complex than it had been in pastyears, when she had worked on huge ocean tour boats, but she loved the varietyof it. And she’d been delighted to discover that the position included acertain amount of status and some definite perks.
Now London picked up Sir Reggie, her Yorkshire Terrier, and ledthe small group to the elevators and spiral stairway that accessed all of thepassenger levels. They walked up one flight to the open-air top deck.
Sure enough, an impressive sight awaited them. Their vessel wasslowly revolving almost completely around. Though smaller than most riverboats,the yacht-like Nachtmusik was built in that long and low style and Londonknew that this was no small navigational feat. The pilot was definitelydemonstrating the ship’s state-of-the-art maneuverability along with his ownskills.
The fresh breeze on the Rondo deck ruffled London’s short auburnhair as she led her group over to the port railing. She and the passengers peeredinto the late afternoon sunlight as she put Sir Reggie down on the deck and beganto explain what they were seeing.
“You’re looking at the Old Town of the city Passau, Germany, extendingout onto this small peninsula. Passau is known as the Dreiflüssestadt—the ‘Cityof Three Rivers,’ and you can easily see why. In fact, you’ve got a wonderfulview from here.”
London’s voice was almost drowned out by the ship’s machinery,which was working harder than usual. She spoke louder to be heard above thenoise.
“We’ve just sailed out of the mouth of the Inn, the river to yourleft. Far over to your right you’ll see the mouth of the tiny Ilz River. We arenow where the Inn and Ilz join the Danube, the river between the other two.Once we get turned all the way around, we’ll sail upstream along the Danube onour way to Regensburg, the next stop on our cruise.”
The passengers murmured with admiration at the ship’s unusualmotion—the sharpest and fullest turn it had made since their initial departurefrom Budapest, Hungary, a few days ago. The boat seemed almost to be rotatingon some invisible axis, like the needle of a gigantic compass.
But the sight of the ancient city of Passau itself was even moreinteresting than the navigational feat—and certainly more charming—with its stonebuildings, red rooftops, and multiple spires. It occurred to London that thosehomes and other buildings along the shore had been casting their reflections onthese rivers for hundreds of years. Long before that, tribal people and thenRoman colonists had lived on this very waterfront.
She loved this aspect of her job—these expeditions into both the delightfulpresent and the rich past of European civilization. So far on this trip, shehad learned lots of remarkable facts and captivating legends. She had seen somebeautiful things …
And some ugly things, she reminded herself.
At two of their stops, people had died and London had foundherself in trouble with the police. She shook off those memories and turnedback to the passengers who were waiting to hear what she had to say.
London began to point out the buildings.
“Over there in Old Town you’ll see St. Paul’s, the oldest churchin Passau. Nearer to us are two white spires of the Baroque St. Stephen’sCathedral, topped with copper onion-shaped domes. The cathedral houses what issaid to be the world’s largest church organ. And over there you can see the fourteenth-centuryGothic tower, the Old Town Hall. And on that hilltop overlooking the city fromthe other side of the Danube …”
London interrupted herself as she noticed another group ofpassengers gathered nearer to the ship’s bow. There she saw the ship’shistorian, Emil Waldmüller, giving a lecture of his own.
London smiled and said to her group, “Perhaps we should go hearwhat my colleague Herr Waldmüller has to say. He knows much more about allthese things than I do.”
As London’s group gravitated toward Emil’s circle, she heard awoman’s voice speak sharply.
“Miss! Come here!”
Not sure who was being called so harshly, London turned and saw awoman reclining in a deck chair near the railing. She was middle-aged, tall,and long-limbed, with a shock of curly hair that seemed to be trying to leapoff the sides of her head. She’d been reading a paperback book, apparentlyuninterested in the wonderful sights at hand.
London had learned the names of all the hundred passengers of theNachtmusik, so she knew this was Audrey Bolton.
“Didn’t you hear me?” Audrey complained, glaring at London. “Honestly,it’s so hard to get the attention of anybody who works aboard this dreadfulship!”
London bristled internally at the remark. Although she hadn’treally talked to Audrey Bolton since she’d first boarded the Nachtmusikback in Budapest, she’d heard from several members of the staff that she wasdifficult to get along with—and impossible to please.
London walked over to the reclining woman and asked pleasantly, “Howmay I help you?”
The woman peered disapprovingly at Sir Reggie over hersunglasses.
“To begin with, I don’t like dogs,” she said. “And I don’t likesharing my expensive vacation with one.”
London tried not to look as startled as she felt. Sir Reggie waspractically a celebrity aboard the Nachtmusik. It was rare for apassenger to complain about him.
Fortunately, Sir Reggie seemed to detect the woman’s disapproval.He let out a slight whine and crept away to join the group of people listeningto the historian. Two of those passengers immediately leaned down and welcomedthe little dog with a pat.
“Humph.” Audrey Bolton snorted at the sight. “That horrid littleanimal doesn’t bite, I hope.”
“No, he’s perfectly friendly,” London said.
“I’ll take your word for it. Just keep him away from me.”
“I’ll do that,” London said. “What else may I do for you?”
A frown fell over the woman’s angular features as she pointed toa nearby magazine rack.
“If you don’t mind very much, miss, I’d like you to fetch me amagazine.”
The word “fetch” startled London a little, as if Audrey Boltonwere addressing Sir Reggie instead of her. As wide-ranging as London’s job hadturned out to be, it had never included “fetching” things for passengers. Shewasn’t