His Royal Highness, Prince Vincent - 18. Possible Motive

Possible Motive

The evening wasn’t lost. Nor did it become awkward…until we got home. Once inside, Thor was becoming more excited. He knew where this was. It was home! He began squirming to be put down.

“Okay, okay,” Vincent chuckled at him. “Let me get my coat off.” He put Thor on the ground and Thor made a beeline towards the back of the grand foyer. “I need to take your coat off, too!” He called after Thor.

Thor knew the kitchen and I knew that was where he was going.

Vincent and I walked to the kitchen where we heard…

“...hvorfor tog du dem med herind?” Rebekka demanded crossly. …why have you brought those in here?

A male voice replied just as indignant, “Fordi Mr. Richards bad mig om det!” Because Mr. Richards asked me to!

Walking in the kitchen, I saw our gardener, landscape artist standing with fists on his hips, not backing down from Rebekka a bit. He was in his thirties, also without the blond hair but black hair. Even in the Winter he had tan skin. He spent all Spring and Summer in the sunshine. He had two large earthen clay pots on the floor. They could hold a small tree; roots and all in each.

“Det gjorde jeg, Ulf! De ser store nok ud.” I said to Ulf. “Og jeg'm ikke Mr. Richards.” I did! They look big enough. And I’m not Mr. Richards.

“Well,” Vincent grinned. “You are Mr. Richards.”

I elbowed Vincent lightly in the gut. Thor went to Rebekka and jumped up resting his front legs on her leg. His tail was at a lower speed on the floor, but his open smile spoke volumes as to what he wanted. He wanted to be picked up by his friend. She gave him something to eat, meaning she liked him. He liked her!

“Hej, Thor!” Rebekka greeted him happily. “Jeg kan ikke hente dig. Jeg laver mad!” I can’t pick you up now, baby. I’m cooking!

Thor didn’t speak English or Danish, but he was learning to understand Human Kindness and some Human Meanness and Cruelty. He went over to Ulf who was someone new he hadn’t met yet.

Ulf looked down and smiled at Thor, “Hej, lille en! Jeg har hørt om dig.” Hello, little one. I heard about you. “Jeg laver ikke mad. Må jeg hente dig?” I’m not cooking. Can I pick you up? He reached down and lifted Thor. Ulf was a friend in seconds. Ulf was the name for wolf, so they were practically kin!

Vincent walked over and began taking Thor’s coat off. Ulf thought Vincent was taking Thor, “You can hold him.” He said to Ulf. “He’ll be more comfortable with this off.” Thor began licking Ulf. “He likes you.”

Smiling at Rebekka, “Those are your two ovens.” I began pointing at the pots. “The Pohogwe have modern ovens now of cast iron, but Grandma and Mom cooked in a traditional Pohogwe style.” I pointed to the fireplace they used occasionally to spit roast things, even a whole pig. “These pots are the closest things to ovens Pohogwe used in the past. We’ll get them heated up and slow roast the venison and chicken in those pots. The maple glaze will drip into the coals and scent the bread and other dishes cooked.”

Rebekka thought about what I said and nodded, “Sure, there are other cultures that cook in similar ways.”

I nodded and smiled, “And you’ve done it?”

“Not even once,” Rebekka admitted.

I chuckled, “Okay.” I smiled. “Not a problem. There are some things to watch for cooking this way. I’ll help you!”

“And the side dishes?” Rebekka asked.

“There are several,” I said. “I don’t know of a single tribe that doesn’t have The Three Sisters.” I saw her confused look, “That’s Squash, Corn and Beans.”

Vincent brightened, “Ooh! What was that dish your mom made? That had all those.”

I grinned back at Vincent, “The Pohogwe Three Sisters Vegetable Dish?” I turned to Rebekka. “He loved it so much Mom had to make it at least three times a week for Vinnie here.” I thumbed at Vincent.

Vincent frowned and pointed at each of them, “Only he can call me that. Anyone else will be sent to the rack.” He growled.

I looked at Vincent, “Do you still have a rack?”

Vincent shrugged and threw his arms out, “I’m sure we can find one around here somewhere! Maybe in the abandoned unused dungeon.”

Rebekka smiled at us and chuckled, “With just those three things?”

“Oh, no,” I shook my head. “It’s a dish that the Shoshone had for thousands of years. The Pohogwe took it and made it their own. Every few generations…as the Pohogwe progressed through time things were added making it our own. Grandma added some things. Mom added some things…it has evolved.”

Vincent grinned, “Too bad we don’t have that Hickory Salt.”

“We could make some,” I shrugged and nodded to Rebekka. “It’s a process to make. We weren’t close enough to the ocean for Sea Salt. We could get it from the Salt Mines in Utah, but we had Hickory Trees and that made excellent salt when water evaporated from the wood.” I pointed at Vincent, “I know none of the Havershams have had it so the only ones to know something’s missing is you and me. I’ll send Mom a telegram and have some brought over when she comes this Summer. I’ll even get Jacy to ship us some on a regular schedule.”

Vincent smiled, “Great!” Then he looked at Rebekka. “Wait! Where do you get your…” he waved a hand at the kitchen, “stuff to cook with.”

“From the Royal Greenhouse,” Rebekka answered. “Your mother insists on the freshest herbs and spices possible. She has all of the grown.”

Vincent began nodding quickly, “So, why can’t we? Here’s Ulf! Can’t he grow ours?”

“I can’t agree,” Rebekka said. “The chocolate cake you love is made with extract that came from Madagascar. The cocoa beans that made the chocolate is from the Central Americas. Even the sugar comes from plantations in the Caribbean. The coffee served also comes from the Central Americas or the Caribbean…”

“Are you saying that where means better spices and herbs?” I asked but looked at Vincent. I knew the answer. “Is it the soil or what?”

“Not just where,” Rebekka said hesitantly. “The weather conditions, where the plants grow the healthiest…their native environments…”

I spun on Rebekka and pointed at her, “Exactly!” That caused her to jump a little. “The weather conditions might be reproduced, but even the soil…all the life before added compose that changes flavor. They rotate where they plant every five years.”

“Why?” Vincent asked in shock.

“The ground becomes deplete of nutrients,” I explained. “We make compose during the years we grow in one area and till it in the soil for the new site. What is the one thing we have the most of at the ranch?”

“Steer,” Vincent answered.

“Grass and grain fed steer,” I nodded. “We make compose from the steer and horses dung.” I said simply. “We also throw things like left over fish and other organic refuse and on the fourth year we mix it with the soil of the ground we will use.”

Vincent nodded with a grimace, “The Pohogwe are a very intelligent people.”

I waved at him, “Just as the Vikings were.” I grinned again. “When you weren’t raping and pillaging while wearing those horned helmets that is.”

It was an ongoing tease I gave now, like my calling him Vinnie. Vincent went with it each time and wasn’t really bothered by it anymore. We almost never did it without an audience. Vincent narrowed an eye at me, “I can still take that ring off, you know?”

I didn’t miss a beat, “You tried before! Remember? It won’t come off!”

Vincent looked around the kitchen, “Where’s that big kitchen knife?”

“Use this one,” I instructed helpfully. “A well-aimed downward thrust will do it quickly.” I pointed at my right index finger just above the ring and below the knuckle. I looked at him with a look of sincerity, “Or am I to suffer? I’m sure there’s a dull bladed butterknife or even a spoon! But we should do it outside; Laura will have a fit about getting blood over her clean kitchen.”

“Fine,” Vincent said with sudden resolve. “I’m going into the other room.” He pulled the coveted ball from his pocket and showed it to Thor who began fidgeting in Ulf’s arms “Do you want to play with this, Thor? I know you do.” Thor let out a happy yip as his tail began moving rapidly. “Dad’s people discovered the new world long before anyone sailed the ocean blue.”

I nodded and grinned, “And found my mother’s people waiting on shore when they arrived greeting you.”

Vincent raised his hand in frustration, “They were thousands of miles away!”

“Yet,” I grinned bigger, “Odin and Thor are mentioned by name…the great bearded gods from the Asgardr in our history and mythology. Odin asked Manitou, the sky-god to send someone to join in a conflict with Thor.”

“Which you’ve said before,” Vincent said, “but can’t prove! There’s no written record.”

“There is proof!” I shot back. “We didn’t have a written language then. It was all by song. Learn Shoshone and find out!” I shrugged. “Or wait for Mom and ask her when she gets here.” I walked over and took the ball from Vincent and Ulf handed Thor over to me. I turned to Rebekka. “We have time. I’ll play with Thor a little, then change and wash up.”

“Sure,” Rebekka nodded.

“Er de altid sådan?” Ulf asked in a whisper to Rebekka. Are they always like that?

“Yes, the fun never ends,” Rebekka chuckled. “It’s real pleasure to work here and an adventure. It’s proof they trust you…and a reminder; Eric speaks fluent Danish.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ulf seemed to forget a moment. “That’s right.”

You know why we do it; it was fun!! It brings smiles, too.

I did spend an hour or so with Vincent and Thor. Thor was a happy little dog. The relationship that Vincent and I had was never questioned. Remember, again the staff here wouldn’t dare question Vincent. He was Denmark’s future king! My being the ambassador now made me a diplomat for the United States for Denmark and Norway. Officially. I was also in favor with the Royal Family and best friends with that future king. I was now a resident of Denmark and partially for Norway. Scandinavia as a whole. As a representative of the United States no one would just accuse me of anything now. There were evil, nasty, lazy, and ignorant people in this world. Finding those good, kind, hardworking and brilliant people is always rewarding. And it had nothing to do with race, class or even education. Criminals were often educated, hardworking and greedy, thinking only about themselves. I can give you so many examples from every culture and ethnic group. Many are leaders! Those people employed here, in this house are kind, honest, and very smart people. They earned their way to work for the Royal Family. They are exceptional people that earned their exceptional wages. The family’s ranch was the same way. My father was king! You know what I mean. He was the law! Writers wrote stories about a lawless, savage world of a wild west in the United States. Only a small part of that was true. A very small part. Dad dealt with the dishonest and lawless occasionally. There were times his fists did have to settle things. Only twice had he been forced into a “draw” of any kind. Only one died as a result. He was going to kill my father! The writers also painted a picture of a savage native population that scalped, murdered, and raped many in the United States. Yes, there some tribes that did, but not all of them. Definitely not the Pohogwe. The number one thing my mother and father despised was a lie. The person that lied; knowing it was a lie and did it for the sole reason to get what they wanted was unforgivable. Telling a lie because you were scared was one thing. Telling a lie for gain was something else entirely. Lying about an assault because you are scared that you or someone else would be hurt was understood. Foolish? Sure, while a lie for gain; be it money, power or even status was way worse. Usually, the only regret was about getting caught. Never any guilt about what they did wrong.

All of that to say, these people were loyal. Were there mistakes made? Sure. However, other employees watched and kept things under control. It was an enjoyable and happy work force that work with friends.

I did spend about an hour with Vincent and Thor. Then I went and changed and cleaned up to go down to go over what needed to be done for dinner the next night. The basics of cooking were the same everywhere. What you want to cook, fire, and various additives that add flavor to what you cook. The area you live in make what you cook and additives you add vary. Where the Pohogwe lived had certain things they add. How the used the fire to cook made flavors change. Ovens of earthen clay were used, and the wood used to cook was important, too. The smoke added flavor. We were using the wood from the maple trees. Meals had risen from being just something done because you were hungry; it was an art!

Instructing Rebekka and Laura went well.

“When my mother comes this Spring, I know she will show you more.” I told them.

The kitchen door opened, and Vincent stuck his head in, “David, can you take a break a few minutes? It’s important.”

“Sure,” I looked at Rebekka and Laura. “There’s more, but tonight it will snow. We need to put a pan out and collect some for tomorrow.”

“Snow,” Laura repeated.

“We have more than enough of that. It’s for the Maple Snow Candy,” I said simply. “You pour hot maple syrup over nuts over hard packed snow just before you serve it. It hardens fast with the nuts and it’s delicious!” I nodded. “We can serve it with the Pohogwe Bread Pudding.”

Vincent bounced and said, “I loved his mother’s!”

I walked with Vincent back into the living area just off the entrance. There I spotted another person playing with a very happy Thor. A blonde woman I did not know. She was in her early thirties who was responding equally happily with Thor. The tail’s wagging speed told me that. Playing a form of “keep away” was right up there with playing with that precious ball in Thor’s book. She would grab his snout gently, shake it playfully and raise her hand out of reach making Thor follow her hand as he knew it was coming back. He was being held again and he followed her other hand and gave his puppy snarl and growl as he went. The number of people that didn’t like Thor could fit on one hand and there would be unused fingers left over! I needed to have Thor greet everyone that came here as he was a good judge of character.

The woman was thin but didn’t wear makeup as some adult woman did. She was still young enough to still be pretty without it. My own mother was beautiful! She wore color on her lips and occasionally on her cheeks.

“David Richards,” Vincent motioned toward the woman. “This is Clara Anders. She is one of the three women Dad asked to watch Cousin Matilda.”

Clara smiled moving Thor to her left arm and offered her right hand to me. The idea of putting Thor down did even occur to her. She gave a little curtsy. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Ambassador.”

I took her hand, turned it from a handshaking angle and brought her hand to my lips and kissed the knuckle on the back of her hand. “You poor thing!” I grinned at her. “As we have been introduced now, please call me David.”

Clara chuckled, “And I’m Clara.”

Vincent’s smile grew as I put on the Richards’ charm, “Okay, Romeo.” Vincent knew Clara was no threat to what he and I had.

“What?” I humorously asked him. “I’m just being polite!”

Clara seemed a bit embarrassed, but let it go. “I reported to His Majesty King Fredrik, and he wanted me to tell you what we confirmed. The threat she is making on the king and His Royal Highness Prince Vincent goes further than just them. It threatens Denmark.”

I frowned, “You mean more than just a threat to either of them because they are Denmark.”

Clara nodded, “Oh, yes. Much more than that. Do you know of the Ubermensch?”

My eyes widened, “The super men? The Master Race? I know of it.”

Clara nodded, “Yes. Baroness Hofer von Lobenstein is involved with Ludwig Viktor. His father was Karl Viktor. He believed in the Aryan Superiority.”

I held my hand up, “Wait a minute. Aryan Superiority!? Doesn’t that include King Fredrik? He’s a Dane! Vincent is Aryan! Aryans are Germans, Swedes, Icelanders, Norwegians, English, Dutch, and Danes…they are all Aryan.”

She nodded again, “Yes, but His Majesty King Fredrik and His Highness Prince Vincent would never agree with that.”

“Because it’s ludicrous!” Vincent blurted annoyed as he closed that subject off crossing his arms over his chest.

My eyes grew as I looked at Vincent, “What are you complaining about? I’m a member of the Untermensch!”

“You are not Sub-Human!” Vincent said angrily as he pointed at me. “You’re brilliant! I speak three languages fluently and can carry on a conversation in two more. How many do you speak?” His head cocked as he looked at me. “Do you even know? I lost count!”

Clara laughed at Vincent’s and my discussion, “King Fredrik said you’d be like this.” She held her hand up to stop us, “Anyway, this was Karl Viktor’s view of Humanity. Ludwig went even further. He believes Germans the Master Race of the Ubermensch and above all of them.”

“And what lead him to that idea?” I demanded.

“According to him,” Clara shrugged, “it was just a fact. Germans are smarter, stronger, and were supposed to control other races.” She pointed at Vincent’s head, “The black hair is proof that Prince Vincent’s Aryan blood has been tainted.”

“Tainted!?” Vincent balked again.

“Yes,” Clara said with a chuckle. “Utopia will be reached when true Aryans take their place in the world and take control.” Then she shook her head, “Ludwig has charmed Matilda. Ludwig’s sister went to school with Matilda. The Baroness met him when he visited his little sister. She fell in love with him.”

“And he with her?” Vincent asked.

Clara shrugged slightly, “When they met she was twelve. He was twenty-two.”

“Let’s sit in Thor’s playroom,” I waved toward the men’s den. I looked at Vincent, “I have a feeling this will take a while.”

Vincent grunted and nodded.

We sat in the men’s den and as Vincent went to get us some hot drinks I asked, “Have you watched Matilda before?”

“No,” Clara said putting Thor on the floor and rolled the ball causing Thor to run after it.

“How did you get this history about her?”

Clara smiled slyly, “She thinks we can only speak English, Danish, and a little Swedish.”

I nodded, “Oh, I see.”

“That was easy,” Clara waved that off. “We would only respond when she spoke English. She doesn’t speak very much Danish. She would say something in German and wouldn’t answer. We would occasionally as we should understand some with Germany right below us to the south. She would write instructions for us in German. We wouldn’t do it if it wasn’t in English or Danish.”

I grinned at her, “Very clever. In fact, I bet you speak fluent German.”

“I do. She wasn’t that neat,” Clara confessed, “or organized. She left correspondences scattered over the desk.” She grudged a shrug, “In handwritten German, which I can read, and she told all three of us things at different times and we compared notes. She has funded a great many of Ludwig’s campaigns.”

Vincent came in with three steaming mugs of Cocio-Guarano. It wasn’t even a local drink. It was from Southern and Central America. It was very popular in the winter. If your hands and feet were cold, the drink warmed the blood and pushed it to those extremities. It kept working for several hours. Cocio was related to coffee and chocolate, but not as sweet as chocolate or as strong as coffee, the guarano kept the blood heated and flowing.

“Ludwig ran for political office?” I asked.

“He wanted to,” Clara said. “He is a Marxist.”

My mind was working quickly. Many people had fetishes and sexual desires for children. A neglected and abused girl who becomes enamored with an older man who now was funding his political campaigns… I gasped, “This is just a theory because there probably is no proof, but the timeline is right. Ludwig spearheaded the whole thing!”

Vincent was considering what I said and nodded slowly, “It is, isn’t it?”

My mind was still going as I turned to Clara, “What sort of record does he have? Questionable behaviors and unanswered questions about him?”

Clara gave a grudging nod, “The Danish Royal Intelligence Service hasn’t really gotten all the known information.”

“How many agents do you have?” I asked.

“Not enough,” Clara muttered. “We have limited resources. We know he’s zealot. He even wants to begin a breeding program.”

“A breeding program!? Why?” Vincent asked. “For whom?”

“You!” Clara said simply. “You, me, and every Aryan in the world.”

“You know why,” I groaned to Vincent. “To make more little Aryans!”

“He is a radical,” Clara added.

I nodded again, “And I bet he has a connection to Baron Karl Hofer von Lobenstein. To get to Baron Lobenstein’s money he had Matilda marry the Baron.”

“You think he had the Baron killed?” Vincent asked me.

“It’s a theory,” I repeated. “We need evidence.”

Vincent was now gesturing as he spoke, “We all wondered how she was smart enough to have Baron Karl sign a contract to give her Baronial Status before the marriage! Status she would keep. She’s devious, but I seriously doubt she thought of it herself!” He shook his head. “So, why hasn’t he married her and claimed the money himself.”

“I don’t think he can,” Clara answered. “Not and remain the head of his radical party.”

“He can’t,” I said. “It does explain why he’s getting rid of all the Aristocracy.” I shook my head. “Marxists don’t believe in class. Everyone is on an equal status. No one is better than anyone else. Peasants, laborers, kings, and royals are all the same. Equal status and no one profited for the Aristocracy alone. No one owns anything. They all own everything equally. As soon as he married her he would have to give it all to the party.”

Vincent nodded, “As long as Matilda is unattached to him he has funds he can use…”

“…and remains in love with Ludwig.” I added. “He must charm her often.”

Clara smiled, “I understand he’s very charming, handsome, and charismatic.”

“He’d have to be to be a leader,” I shrugged. “I will contact Ambassador Runyon. He’s the United States Ambassador to Germany and ask him.”

“That’s not your job,” Vincent smiled.

“No,” I agreed. “We are allies, Denmark and the United States. I say it will be helpful to promote goodwill for the United States to support Denmark in this situation. Don’t you think?”

“You’ll send a telegram?” Vincent asked with a grin.

I shook my head, “No, I’m having that telephone installed. I’ll call him. Ambassador to Ambassador.”

There was a sharp yap from the floor. Looking down, Thor had the ball in front of him, but let us know he was being forgotten! How dare we? His tail was going at a slower speed, but his waning smile told us he was willing to forgive us as long as we got our priorities straight.

“Oh,” I said to him. “You poor neglected little thing!! We haven’t forgotten you.” I was about to launch myself at Thor who let out a good bark, lowered his head on his front paws and had his tail speed up as my challenge was accepted. I grabbed him up and rolling as I cuddled him. Thor knew it was a game and was never frightened of me. He did jump back about an inch and his tail speed increased even more. I hugged him and kissed his head repeatedly. He knew he was loved. My reward was a very wet face.

Both Vincent and Clara were both laughing heartily.

We escorted Clara to the door and were going to walk her back to the palace, but she stopped us. “Thank you,” she smiled pulling her cloak on Vincent was helping her with. “You are both gentlemen I know, but we really don’t need to be seen together.” She smiled at us both. “My job isn’t finished.” She curtsied to me and Vincent. “Mr. Ambassador. Your Royal Highness.” Then she caressed Thor on the head who was being held by me, “Good-bye, Thor. I know we’ll see each other again. You are just adorable!” She waved and headed off.

“It makes sense,” Vincent said as we walked back into the depths of the house. “The how, the why…”

I nodded, “And I hate to admit it, but Matilda may be a victim.”

“What!?” Vincent physically stopped me. “She was in on it!”

“Yes,” I nodded. “Why?” I turned more directly to Vincent. “She was physically and sexually abused as a little girl, but also sheltered,” I raised my finger to Vincent. “Along comes this handsome man who treats her better than any man she’s known! He sees someone he can use to get what he wants. He sees Baron Lobenstein’s money and uses Matilda to get it.” I shrugged, “To remain on Ludwig’s good side, she agrees and does what Ludwig asked. She becomes his bank account.” I shook my head again. “She won’t see that. She can’t or she loses him forever! She’s a victim!”

“I can’t feel sorry for her,” Vincent said through gritted teeth.

“I can’t either,” I admitted. “With the change in thinking though, she’s a misguided little girl, but still responsible.” I held my arm out. “She was twelve when Ludwig and Matilda met. Twelve! I don’t like her either, but we may help her when we investigate.”

Vincent thought a second and then shook his head, “Why can’t we just throw her in the dungeon?”

“We need proof, Vinnie!”

“Kings never did before!” Vincent said. “Dad even thought of it.”

I smiled and handed Thor over to him, “It’s called justice. You’re more civilized.” I patted his chest went to check on Rebekka and Laura.

“Aw,” Vincent pouted and followed me. “Do we have to?”