28th June, The missing dinner plate

Vickery smiled reassuringly at the young Rifleman, who looked suddenly confused and unsure. "I think we would all like some coffee, please, if that is possible," he said in German, hoping that Torrington would recognise 'Kaffee' at least and not feel too much slighted by his not speaking in English, and also hoping that he would not feel too affronted by Vickery's thus helping himself to the Engineer's stash of coffee. He could always replace what was used from his own stock, after all. "Danke schön," he added, before turning back to the new Lieutenant.

"If you do not want to be overheard, might I suggest we step this way," he said, directing von Dornheim away from the tent so as to lessen Rottlaender's unease somewhat.

von Dornheim looked sheepish after following the captain outside. He looked about anxiously. "I would like to think this is a conversation between gentlemen and fellow officers, ja?" he said quietly. "I know I have only arrived and there is much to done" said von Dornheim, forgetting the word 'be'. "I..." he trailed off and muttered in German under his breath. He looked at the sky and squinted, shaking his head. He drew in a deep breath, placing his hands on his hips. He was silent. He was largely embarrassed by such a personal matter. "Tomorrow is the anniversary of my wife's death, ja? I wish to request a day to put the men to drill to keep ze mind at work. It will be of great help. Perhaps a chance to formally meet the men?" said von Dornheim, lightly shaking his head again. "I am no drill master. But, some light drill and perhaps some time with ze men will be of service". His wife's death had devastated him. He had yet to marry or even court a wife. With his family lands and business destroyed under the palm of Bonaparte, he did not even know where to begin.

"Perhaps this is not normal sir, but I am asking for personal favor" concluded von Dornheim. He rubbed his neck, his finger tracing the small scar a pistol ball had created when it grazed his neck. He thought back to his youth service to the Grandmaster of Malta against the Barbary. The dark eyes and beards, fearless. He shuddered a bit. He remembered walking across the wreckage of a fallen mast, leading a boarding party of the Maltese equivalent of marines. He suddenly remembered that the Knights no longer were masters of Malta and now visibly frowned.

Edward had stayed where he was, giving von Dornheim and Vickery the desired privacy and - finally - drinking his tea, quicker than was polite in company.

Once he had refreshed himself thus, he turned to Pye, signalling him to follow him into the tent.

"Do you think you can find the washerwoman who has taken the coat?", he asked the rifleman.

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Freddie meanwhile had dashed away. If the Captain wanted coffee, he would get the best coffee Freddie was able to produce! And if he put one of those little cakes the locals produced on the table, perhaps some would remain after the officers had eaten; then he and Pye would have a nice little treat for later. That sleuthwork made surprisingly hungry!

Pye eagerly followed the engineer officer, glad he had drunk and seemed to have enjoyed the tea. Officers were strange of course, mixing coffee and tea like it was something that had to be done, but it was not for him to question the sense in it.

He hesitated at the question then nodded quickly. "I can ask 'round, sir. Can see if I can find 'er m'self." He straightened a little. "Best be quick though, else it might get mixed up with the others that are t' same. Think so 'tleast. Not t' right time ter be 'strollin' about coatless. Not yet." He looked at the officer. "We'll find that plate for you sir, swears we will!" He promised. "Wos' there anything else taken 'long with it sir though?..." He wondered if someone who had the chance to take one thing might have gone for more than it. It did depend on how much time they had to look.

"Rottlaender would probably know better than I do, but I don't think so ... wait!"

While he had checked the important things - his measuring instruments, the maps and books, the chest in which he kept the strongbox with his money and bits of jewelery - and had found the chests locked and the locks untampered with, he had not sofar checked the small pouch of small change.

Searching for it in his writing desk to give Pye some money to buy the jacket back if necessary, he couldn't find it. Frowning, he asked:

"Has Rottlaender said that he was missing anything else?"

"..." Pye debated whether his friend intended for Torrington to know that a small bag with coins was missing or not. He decided it was best to tell though. "Yeah." He nodded quickly. "There was a small bag he mentioned. Dunno what it looks like, but it's fer coin?...that one was missin' too."

He looked at Torrington. 'S not Freddie's fault sir. Any of this. He's a very fine batman.. so, you'll forgive 'im for wot' happened here, right?...Couse it ain't his fault!"

"My dear man, while I can completely imagine that Rottlaender will think I might do so, I have never for one moment believed that he did this - after all, why steal one of the most impractical things available when he is the only one who could without any trouble have taken what money I have here? While the plate is rather ... impressive, it is large, easily recognizable and not worth half as much as my telescope. Besides, where would he hide it?"

The small coins were another matter entirely, of course, but he did not believe Freddie had taken that either. It did not fit with how he read his batman's personality, and why would he have mentioned it to Pye anyway? Besides, while Torrigton kept accounts of his expenses, he didn't exactly double check the money Freddie spend for food and other necessities. A simple small lie of the money in the bag being gone due to the necessity to buy coffee or soap or something would have sufficed to get the batman nearly the same amount over time without any fuss.

He sighed and checked his pockets until he found some shillings, handing them over to Pye.

"Here - buy the jacket off her, and everything that was in the pockets. I would prefer if my name was not mentioned, though."

"Good, couse he's as honest as they get, n'..you can tell that easy." Pye nodded and then contemplated on whether there was more he needed to tell the officer. Not finding anything he only nodded again and took the shillings given.

"A'right sir. No mentionin' o' yer name. Just bringin' t' coat and what's it had with me back." He pocketed the shilling. "Anythin' else sir, fore I go?"

"Exactly!" Torrington nodded. "No, that would be all for now, thank you. Rottlaender will be back momentarily, in case we should need anything."

Vickery clasped his hands behind his back. Some drill would doubtless do the men some good, as well as allowing the Lieutenant to see them in action - and for them to see the new officer.

He nodded. "Certainly. If you would like some powder, I shall make the necessary arrangements - no need to have half the army on the qui vive just because the Rifles wanted to fire some rounds off in training, is there."

"Yes sir!" Pye checked that the shillings were still in his pocket and then turned. "..Will be back quick, sir." And with that the young rifleman hurried in the direction of the washerwomen. He would check through the different groups of women, inquiring and asking and hoping that one lead would bring him to the correct coat.

von Dornheim had smiled and bowed his head gently. Perhaps there was something in the German blood that made soldiering come easy. von Dornheim had excused himself and let his mind wander. The Captain seemed a nice enough gentleman. The new officer wandered the camp giving a nod to the occasional salute or likewise nod. He wondered why the Prussians had a passion, a real lust for battle. He shuddered. He knew he was good at it and enjoyed some of the drill he would be performing but battle was a horrible thing. He rounded a tent corner to find a private vomiting profusely. He stopped opened his mouth to say something but instead turned around. Finding his tent finally erected completely he entered. von Dornheim immediately closed the tent flap and pulled out his bottle. He took vast swigs and finally sat on his straw mat which served as a bed. Indeed he had two folding chairs and a trunk but they did not seem right. In the morning he would see what the men could do. A bit of drill and meeting men he knew would die. von Dornheim took another swig and eyed the mouth of the bottle before corking it. He willed himself to stand and unfold a chair, pulling it up to his chest. He opened the chest and removed his chess set. A nice Swiss made set except for the black queen which was really brown and was bought from a street vendor in Lisbon for a nasty sum as a replacement. As he put out the pieces, he eyed the brown queen. Really a lazily carved pyramid with a half-assed crown on top. He sighed and put it down in its space and began playing himself by pulling out the white knights. He wondered if he would be needed, realizing what he was doing was rather quite sad.

Vickery nodded as the German Lieutenant excused himself, before turning back to Torrington.

"You - or whoever is looking - is after someone about Pye's build, who was wearing a red coat with blue facings, very likely a Provost's coat. Dark hair. Although we came across a Portuguese vagrant with some sort of polishing paste on his feet, I am not sure he had anything to do with the theft. I certainly did not see your plate, and nor was it in his bag, either."

Freddie reappeared with the coffeepot in one hand, three cups dangling from the fingers of his other, and the saucers and other necessities poking from all his pockets. He looked slightly confused that the lieutenant had departed, and asked cautiously:

"Will der Herr Leutnant come back? He forgetted his Cigare."

Pye was clutching the coat proudly to his chest. He had been quite successful in a surprisingly short time. Given, he had run most of the time while searching for the woman, but it was still the good few pointers that got him to the right one fast.

"Sir!" He called, still quite far. "Got it!" He exclaimed and grinned. "This one, it's this one, isn't it?" He ducked around Freddie to get there faster, though by now his breathing showed the amount of running that he'd done.

"I send Pye to get the coat from the washerwoman", Torrington explained for Vickery's sake. "It seems he was quite successful. Excellent work, Pye! Bring it here, please."

He did not correct Freddie's misapprehension, taking an impish delight in letting Vickery doing that.

"I believe Herr Leutnant has given the segar to you, as a gift," Vickery told Rottlaender, noticing the look on Torrington's face and merely arching an eyebrow by way of reply.

"Now, what use is an old jacket likely to be? My father's hounds are currently kennelled in Hampshire, after all, and thus will not be of any use in tracking the man by scent," he added, glancing from the Engineer to the shabby red coat and back.

The engineer only arched an eyebrow back, purposfully arrogant, then grinned as his servant gave a short but impressive imitation of a carp, and began to examine the coat.

"Well, first, it seems to be not a provost, but a guardsman who last rightfully wore it ... and second, this hole here looks quite a lot like a stabwound. Since I don't believe in ghosts needing silver tableware, I would say somebody stole this as well, quite possibly from somebody's cooling body. Hmmm, pockets are empty. It's a pity you don't have the hounds here - with them, this whole problem would be easily solved."

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Freddie looked shocked for a moment. He had gotten this cigar as a gift? A real cigar like officers smoked? But then his brain kicked into gear again and he asked Pye excitedly:

"A cigar, Zach! Do you think we can it for cake tauschen?"

"So....it's not goin' t' help us find who did it?" Pye asked, looking a little bit disappointed. He had hoped that the coat would somehow lead to the thief just by getting it.

".....so'.....if t' coat was stolen.....wouldn't that mean that whoever stole t' coat don't have his own?...Couse why steal someone's coat if you've got yer own really?..." He glanced at his friend, shut up and then blinked at the cigar. He grinned and nodded. "Yes!! CAKE.. we ...ta..tauschen is change?... like trade?" He asked, not quite sure what the question was for a moment but guessing that if it had cigar and cake in it and the order of words somehow suggested that Freddie meant to trade it!

The engineer shook his head.

"I think somebody would have realized if a guardsman was seen, even dead, in another jacket. I would rather say this was done to somebody who had fallen during a recent engagement and was looted on the field."

"Yes, sir... but..." Pye bit his tongue. He could not protest against an officer's words so he only nodded. Whatever the officer had said was wisdom one would not object to.

Edward raised an investigative eyebrow.

"But what? Come on, say it!"

"Nuffin' sir.." Pye said quickly, his eyes carrying the expression of a deer caught in the...well in front of a fast running carriage.

"Pye... This isn't the 33rd. If you had a thought, it might be helpful," Vickery said, catching Torrington's eye.

Torrington nodded slightly and took a moment to translate to the best of his ability for Freddie, who seemed to have lost track a bit.