“Auslanders,” said Himmelfarb. “Look. The shoes. And the schwarzkopfs on them, the black hair? The jackets? Where do you see these in Styria, or anywhere else? Foreigners, for sure.”

“Time enough to find that out, Karl. I said: when were you last up here?”

“Why would I come here? I’m a farmer. There’s damn-all to farm here, can’t you see? Nix.”

Gebhart raised his eyebrows at Felix. Himmelfarb bent slightly and leaned to peer into the depths of the woods.

“This is what we get,” he muttered. “This is what we get in the EU? The end of the borders down there?”

Gebhart leaned over to whisper to Felix.

“Where did you, you know…? I’ll need to tell the KD when they show up.”

Felix searched about, and nodded toward a tree.

“I’m not totally sure, Gebi. Sorry.”

Gebhart backed them out of the woods the way they’d come in.

Their handsets had been fading in and out.

Gebhart grunted and looked at his watch.

“The one day I don’t bring my damned Handi.”

“Handy what?” said Himmelfarb.

“Cell phone my Handi.”

“Hah,” said Himmelfarb. “Those things don’t work up here.

You might as well use a hunting horn.”

Gebi had phoned the post 20 minutes ago, and they had made the climb back up right after.

“Inside the hour, I’m guessing,” he said to Felix. “The whole bit. A site crew, a truck no doubt. Forensics later. You’re one lucky fellow, Professor.”

Before Felix could say anything, Gebhart turned to Himmelfarb.

“Karl, best you wait down at the house. Nothing should be disturbed, you see.”

“It’s my land, you know.”

“Stimmt, Karl,” said Gebhart, and laid a hand on the farmer’s shoulder. “Just so.”

“Cars come over the alm at night here this past while, you know.”