Part III (Conclusion)

The Danube. This map is included for the edification of our American readers.

The Secrets of the Ja-Ja Sisterhood

Schmitz was ushered in the tradesman's entrance – not as a deliberate slight, apparently, but because it was nearest the kitchen, a giant, bustling heaven of a place from which tempting aromas emanated. Schmitz did not feel in the least slighted, especially when a charmingly dimpled woman of forty, about half the size of Bavaria, pushed him into a chair and set a plate of delicious Balkan comestibles in front of him and sat with him, saying she loved to see a man with a good appetite. When a large stein of beer was added to the repast, Schmitz beamed like someone who has something really good to smile about.

He noticed a curious thing about the kitchen lady's attire, however: she was wearing gumboots. When he asked why, she laughed a hearty laugh.

'We keep very clean kitchen,' she announced proudly. Schmitz nodded understanding, and helped himself to another sausage.

After his meal and a quick wash, Schmitz looked around for a guide. One appeared in the form of an ironic-looking young man wearing a Matyó shirt, baggy trousers, and rough boots. Obviously, formal dress was optional at Castle Rákoczy. It was good to have a guide: the narrow hallways of the ancient castle were so convoluted that Schmitz became lost in short order.

'You don't need a moat with a castle like this,' he thought. 'You just need to turn invaders loose without a floor plan.'

The last hallway led eventually to a pair of large doors, behind which was an astonishingly spacious ballroom. At least, it probably should have been a ballroom. The sight that greeted Schmitz's wondering eyes was of activity of a much more varied nature. About three dozen young ladies – Schmitz recognised a number of them from their 'missing' photos as Kapitänstöchter   – were engaged in different pursuits at stations around the ballroom. In one corner were an ensemble of young lady musicians, playing piano, pan flute, violin, and other instruments. Near them, other young women practiced a group dance. Further away was activity of another sort: girls gathered around a quite-modern sewing machine, following with interest as the instructress pointed out its features. Tables of fabric, sewing notions, and scissors indicated a project in progress. At other tables, female students pored over maps and atlases, while yet another group sat before a portable blackboard, taking notes while their lady professor inscribed mathematical formulas. All were dressed simply, in peasant blouses and full skirts. All of this learning and doing was dizzying to watch, and Schmitz had to sit down to take it all in.

'How do you like my school?' said a deep voice behind him. Schmitz turned with a start, and recognised Count Rákoczy, who was smiling. As if nothing in the world were wrong, Schmitz thought. As if he weren't a Donaudampfschifffahrtsgeselleschaftskapitästöchterentführer of the worst kind.. He tried to scowl back, but found himself smiling in return. The man's cheery demeanour was infectious. Like the others, the Count wore local peasant costume, and seemed thoroughly at home, as indeed he was.

'I imagine you have questions,' the Count went on. 'People usually do when they first meet the Ja-Ja Sisterhood.'

Schmitz frowned. 'The Ja-Ja….?'

'Sisterhood. That is what my young guests call their 'secret society'. I will let one of their number explain shortly. But what you see here is an academy. The young ladies want an education. They want to learn skills, to go out into the world well-equipped.' He shrugged gracefully. 'They needed space. I had lots of it. And I wanted company. So there you have it.'

Schmitz gawked. 'You haven't….'

Rákoczy looked at the detective sharply. 'I haven't what? Molested these ladies in any way whatsoever? Certainly not! I am a gentleman. I have been one for going on two hundred years now, and in all that time I have never offered insult to a lady, nor oppressed the weak. I couldn't live with myself.'

Schmitz was stuck on one statement. 'Two hundred…..er, not to be impertinent, Herr Graf, but you wouldn't happen to be a….?'

Rákoczy laughed heartily. 'A strigoi? Nosferatu? A vampire? I simply come from a long-lived family. Certainly not. I am, moreover, a vegetarian, so you need have no worries on that score. Do not mistake me for a member of the Lektor family of Lithuania. My late father was a prince of Transylvania in a very bad time. The political situation made things very difficult for me as a young man, and so I travelled abroad to study. In Italy, France, the Netherlands, England, Germany, I called myself the Comte de Saint-Germain.' He laughed again. 'In England, I was arrested as a spy. People can be suspicious. In Hessen, I joined in early chemical experiments and talked to the Freemasons. When I tired of travel, I pretended to die of old age, and removed myself here. But over the years, I became….lonely. I wanted to share my knowledge.'

He mused. 'Thank Domnezeul meu for the Ja-Ja Sisterhood. They have made life interesting again.'

Schmitz was dumbfounded, so he (wisely) said nothing, but watched the young women at their activities, none of which he was equipped to understand. After all, the education of a Donau-etc-Beamter only goes so far.

The Sisterhood Explained

The sun was well gone now, and time for lessons was over. While the young ladies went outside for a stroll around the grounds, the servants transformed the ballroom into a dining hall. Punctually at eight, there began one of those long Romanian dinners that has to be experienced to be believed. For starters, there was a tiny glass of Slivovitz, followed by a slice of creamy Bulgarian-style feta. The meal only got better from there. People ate slowly, and conversed happily.

Schmitz tried to be on his best behaviour. He was not used to formal dining on this scale, and he hoped he remembered which fork to use – especially as he was seated at one end of the very long table, near the Count, who presided over the feast. Schmitz was also nervous about all of these young ladies: he'd never had much occasion to speak to young women, only to pursue missing ones. He found he hadn't much to say. Fortunately, the young ladies themselves had plenty they wanted to share, beginning with his vis-à-vis, a certain Fräulein Matilda Heffelfinger.

Matilda's blue eyes sparkled. 'So you're the Beamter who's been chasing us up and down the Danube,' she teased. 'No, don't worry, we aren't offended. I suppose we owe everybody an explanation. You see, my sisters and I,' her merry glance took in the whole chattering table, 'all have two things in common: a fierce desire for self-improvement and very traditional parents.'

'It all started, really, with Klara there.' She indicated a slightly older woman who was holding forth mid-table. 'Klara wanted to travel and study, but her parents wanted her to work as a governess closer to home, in a dreary family. They insisted she give all her wages to her younger brother so that he could attend university in Heidelberg. Her brother didn't study at all: instead, he drank in beer halls, obtained his dueling scar in the Burschenschaft, and sang in the Männerchor. He spent more time in the student jail¹ than in the classroom. Klara was deeply unhappy. One day, she ran away.'

Thinking about how he spent his own youth, Schmitz blushed, ashamed for young men and their general ingratitude. 'While working in Tbilisi as a governess, Klara happened to meet the Count. They became friends. She also met a number of other young governesses-in-exile. They formed the Ja-Ja Sisterhood, and made the Count an honorary member.'

Schmitz found the courage to ask, 'What is the meaning of 'Ja-Ja Sisterhood', please?'

Matilda laughed. 'We all heard the same thing all our lives. "Ja, ja, you want to learn and do. But your brother comes first." We became tired of it. So we came up with our own "Ja, ja" – "Ja, ja, but the boys can do their own work, and the girls will learn, as well." Which is what we are doing, with the help of Count Rákoczy.' She smiled at their host, who bowed back.

Schmitz frowned in thought. 'I understand your undertaking, I think. But don't you realise that you are worrying your families? Perhaps not your brothers, but your parents, grandparents, little sisters…. They think you have been abducted. They even made a law about it, and hired me to find you.'

Count Rákoczy broke in, 'But they write home regularly, these girls.' He looked puzzled, while Schmitz looked frankly astonished.

Matilda winked, which shocked Schmitz even more. 'Of course we do, lieber Herr Graf,' she replied. 'And our mothers, grandmothers, and sisters write us back.'

'Ah,' said the Count with a eureka look that bothered Schmitz somewhat. Clearly, this subversion of the order of things was farther advanced than the Empire of Austria-Hungary knew. As a thoughtful Beamter, though, Schmitz knew better than to draw hasty conclusions, and he kept his peace for the moment. Besides, an excellent dessert was being served just now – plum compote with whipped cream topping – and his was being served by the jolly Mädel from the kitchen. Schmitz had only one question, which he whispered to Matilda, surprised at his own boldness.

'Is that lady married?'

Schmitz Comes to a Decision

Sleep was welcome, in a comfortable downy bed. Schmitz woke, reluctant to leave its embrace, toasty warm in spite of the fresh snow that had fallen in the night. He couldn't remember when he'd last felt so….relaxed. He rose slowly, dressed, and went downstairs, where hot coffee, buns, and fresh yoghurt were waiting. He also met the Count, who was lingering over coffee in the breakfast room of this remarkably democratic household.

'Ah! Friend Schmitz, I hope you slept well,' Rákoczy said. 'I have a proposition for you.'

Schmitz's heart fell. Here it comes, he thought. 'I must tell you, Exzellenz, that it is an offence against the k-u-k government to offer a bribe to a Beamter. Even in Transylvania.'

Rákoczy laughed. 'Nothing so crass or vorschriftenwidrig² is intended, my friend. But you must admit that you cannot in all conscience go back to your superiors with this tale. First of all, you will not be easily believed. Second, if you were to be believed, and the Austro-Hungarian army were to show up here in the mountains, I suspect you might ignite an uprising. The Szekely have been guarding the mountain passes here for several hundred years, and they haven't had any Huns or Turks to fight in quite a while. Besides,' he added, 'you would make a lot of families very unhappy. The young ladies themselves, of course, but also their mothers and grandmothers and sisters…. You see the problem.'

Schmitz swallowed his coffee – it was really good coffee, Vienna-style, not that Turkish slop – and nodded. 'I had thought of that.'

The Count went on, 'It might be best if you, too, disappeared. But of course, it would be unfair to deprive you of your civil service pension. This I would be honoured to replace by offering you a position on my staff here.'

Schmitz stared at the Count in astonishment. 'A position? What could I do? I have no skills.'

'Nonsense. You have many skills. You are a trained investigator, who can teach the arts of observation and deduction. You know how to write superb reports. Among other things, you could serve as our go-to expert for Beamtendeutsch. Officialese is such a difficult language.' Rákoczy looked innocent. 'I'd throw in your own cottage and garden, kitchen privileges, and if you happened to find someone you would care to share that cottage with….'

Schmitz glanced at the blushing middle-aged widow who was just then pouring him more coffee, and it was a done deal.

Neue Freie Presse, Wien

MYSTERIOUS DISAPPEARANCES CONTINUE!!!

Donaudampfschifffahrtsgesellschafttskapitästöchterentführungsgesetzvollstreckungsbeamter the Latest to Vanish!

Police Throughout the Empire Baffled!

Last seen at the Móhacs Busójárás….

The end. And the beginning.

Dmitri Gheorgheni

17.09.18 Front Page

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