“You’re the boss,” the cabbie replied. “But its pretty run down these days.”
“Are you sure, Charles?” asked Stephanie in concern. “Shouldn’t we start to unpack?”
“No, I don’t think so,” replied Charles. “Our luggage will be safe in the back for a few more hours. Anyway most of our stuff won’t arrive for several days and we won’t have the use of a car straight away. This seems like a good way of getting our bearings.”
“We are just approaching my friend Havor’s place,” announced the cabbie. "Maybe we come back later for some food, huh?”
“Maybe…” said Charles, non-committally, not sure if the cabbie was on commission. But he did look more interested, as a busty young waitress appeared in the doorway and began wiping down tables. Stephanie elbowed him in the ribs.
The cabbie was right that much of the town did seem rather run down, with many buildings boarded up or falling down.
“It is because of the disappearances,” said the cabbie darkly.
“Disappearances?” asked Stephanie in alarm.
“Not recent,” said the cabbie, trying to be reassuring. “Ten years ago. Maybe twenty years ago. But many people got frightened and moved away... Or disappeared. And the tourists stopped coming. The town is just beginning to rebuild itself.”
The cab drove past an area of hilly open ground, where athletic young men of college age jogged, or played sport, all stripped to the waist.
“What is this place?” asked Stephanie, breathing heavily and this time it was Charles’ turn to dig her in the ribs.
“Durmstrang Academy, the local young men’s college,” replied the cabbie. And he to Charles: “We have a girls’ finishing school too. Maybe I show you that later, huh?”
“Where are we now?” asked Stephanie, as they turned into an almost deserted street. Deserted, but for a ramshackle bus that drove slowly up the narrow cobbled lane ahead of them.
“Red light district,” commented the cabbie. “Most of the girls only come out at night.”
“And the bus?” asked Charles, as the ramshackle thing ahead of them rumbled to a halt.
“Sex tourists,” replied the cabbie. “The only sort we get these days.”
The door of the bus opened and a group of furtive-looking men emerged. They quickly disappeared into darkened doorways that had opened around them. And the street was soon deserted again.
The cabbie accelerated past the stationary bus and Stephanie frowned as she thought she heard a muffled cry.
That concern was soon thrust from her mind and replaced with another one, as they turned a corner and rattled past a huge old dilapidated gothic building perched on a hillside. A sign read ‘---re Museum.’
“Oh, Charles, you don’t think…” Stephanie began.
“I guess it might… Stop the car please.”
“Sure,” the cab screeched to a halt.
Charles and Stephanie let themselves slowly out of the cab.
“You know mostly I just drive past this place,” said the cabbie. “Especially at night…” he shivered.”
“Well its not night now,” said Charles. “Lets get a look at this sign.”
He picked around at the ground below the broken sign and then with a shout of triumph, he found another chunk of it. Turning it around, the faded lettering read ‘Von Kemp---‘. Charles placed it near to the piece of sign that was still hanging. It fitted perfectly.
Stephanie looked up at the ruined building, with its smashed windows, caved in roof and badly scorched west wing, and wondered what they had let themselves in for. |