Frank was dozing himself, sprawled in the chair with his head resting against the back. He still hadn’t caught up on his sleep, but he was relaxed, thinking about the case, and how happy he was that they had managed to solve it. But I won’t really enjoy it until Joe wakes up and can share in the news. And he’ll wake up…he just has to! The doze deepened, and Frank slept, only to be awakened later by a gentle hand on his shoulder. Frank roused reluctantly, blinking at the intrusion.

"Frank – honey." It was his mother. "Honey, you’re going home to get a real night’s sleep for a change. And so am I."

"No, no – I don’t need to." Frank protested automatically, even though the thought of a full night’s sleep in his own bed was nearly irresistible. "I’m fine, Mom – really."

"No arguments," Laura told him sternly. It was rare that she had to use that tone of voice with Frank, who was ordinarily amenable to everyone’s wishes. "Come on, now. Joe will be fine for a little while by himself, and Dad’s coming in a little later to sit with him."

"All right," Frank acceded reluctantly. He got to his feet and patted Joe through the covers in farewell. "See you later, bro."

At home, while Laura went upstairs to take a bath and go to bed herself, Frank sat in the kitchen for a while, chatting with his Aunt Gertrude, who had limited her time at the hospital with Joe to keep things running smoothly at home. He hadn’t seen her that afternoon, or the night – rather, morning! – before.

Gertrude listened with rapt interest while Frank related the story of the stolen instruments, and what had gone on at the mansion. She shook her head sadly when he repeated Ernst Steiner’s tale of the musicians and their triumphs throughout Europe…and then she became very thoughtful, when Frank finished, and an odd look crossed her face.

"What’s wrong, Aunt Gertrude?" Frank asked, suddenly worried that she might not be feeling well. "Are you all right?"

"Nothing, nothing," she said, "I’m fine." But the odd look still remained. "It’s just that story you told, Frank – it seems to me that somewhere I’ve heard…it reminds me of something. I either read about it, or someone told me about it, a long time ago." Thoughtfully, she set about preparing Frank a late dinner. Somewhere along the line, Frank realized belatedly, he had missed both dinner and lunch! While she worked, they talked about other subjects; Frank entertaining his aunt with a wicked description of Matt Eckersley, and also telling her about the obsessed Robert DuChais and his pursuit of Allison Lewis.

Gertrude was setting the table when she reverted to the former subject. "I remember now!" she announced abruptly. "It was a music teacher I had when I was in school! A Mr. – Ryker? Rich? No…something like that. Raich, that’s it. He told us about the Vienna Symphony—"

Eagerly, Frank pressed her for details. "Do you remember anything else about it, Aunt Gertrude? Anything at all?"

"Let me keep thinking for a few minutes," she said, sounding a trifle puzzled. "It’s there in the back of my mind, but I need to get a handle on it." She made herself a cup of tea, and sat down at the kitchen table, beside her nephew. "It’s such an old story, I haven’t thought about it in years and years." She stirred her tea absently, staring into the cup as if to glean the details from the amber liquid.

"Yes…yes," she murmured, at last. "Here’s what I remember. The teacher told us that he’d once played the harp with the Vienna Symphony Orchestra, and that he had been in a competition, he and four other men – and that they had won exquisite instruments as prizes." She sighed. "But it was a sad story at the end, really. He mentioned that they had played for many years, as long as they could – but they had to break up in the early 1930’s, because of the depression."

"Anything else?" Frank prodded.

She looked at him and chuckled. "I’m doing the best I can, Frank!"

"Sorry, Auntie…" he grinned. "But I want to know!"

"One more thing," she said, smiling. "He mentioned the Steiner Viola. I don’t remember what he said, but I do recall him saying something about it!"

Frank was suddenly excited. "Aunt Gertrude, could I eat dinner in my room? I want to look up something on my computer!" Perhaps there was a glimmer of hope in solving this last little mystery, after all!

"All right, Frank," she surprised him by saying, and set about fixing him a tray to take upstairs. "Do let me know if you find anything out!" Gertrude, too, was intrigued!

Once in his room, Frank set the tray on his bedside table, but instead of eating, went immediately to his computer and turned it on – drawn irresistibly by the lure of a mystery that was nearly 70 years old. It could be totally impossible to solve, since everyone involved had died, but….

Going to his favorite search engine, Frank typed in the information he was seeking. The results were disheartening: he found himself wading through endless and endless and endless notes about violas and disasters and musical quintets. I’m not getting anywhere! he fumed, and then thought again about his Aunt Gertrude’s story.

He started another search – for a person, this time, not a quintet or a viola. And then he fired off a rapid – and very lengthy – e-mail message. Suddenly exhausted, he turned off the computer, ate his now-cold dinner, and fell into bed.

When Frank awoke the next morning, the first thing he did was boot up the computer and check his e-mail . He didn’t expect to have an answer to his note of the night before, but to his astonishment, there was a reply – a rather long reply. He read through it, his eyes first growing wide, and then sparkling, as he read the answer to his mystery. He printed the message off, and hurried downstairs.

Gertrude Hardy was in the kitchen, preparing breakfast.

"Aunt Gertrude! I found it!" Frank waved the paper exultantly. "Look!"

She read the letter, and chuckled. "Amazing! Just amazing!"

Frank poured himself a hasty glass of orange juice and popped a piece of bread into the toaster. "Is Mom around?"

"She went back to the hospital already," Gertrude told him, turning more sober again as she thought of Joe. "She said to let you sleep; she’d just take her own car there. Your father came home very late, I think. He’s still asleep."

Frank buttered his toast, picked up the e-mail message, and headed for the door, feeling more alive than he had in days. "I’m going to the hospital now, Auntie – bye!" he said, and in a matter of seconds was backing down the driveway!

Laura was sitting beside Joe’s bed, where she had been so long and often over the past few days. She greeted Frank with a warm smile.

"Hi, honey. Did you finally get caught up on your sleep?"

"I did," Frank nodded. "I also solved – well, found out the answer to, anyway – a 70-year-old mystery!" he added triumphantly.

"What? Good for you – but how?" Laura laughed, waiting for details.

"Here, read this!" Frank thrust the e-mail letter at her excitedly. She took it from his hand, still smiling.

"All right. I’ll take it out into the waiting area to read. Give you a chance to talk to Joe."

Laura left the room, and Frank settled into the chair beside the bed. He gazed at Joe, and thought that his color looked better – much better. Instead of looking unconscious, this morning Joe looked…asleep!

Frank was staring abstractedly at the EKG machine, watching the slow, even blips of Joe’s heart rate on it, when he suddenly became aware of a new sound in the room – movement, and the soft slither of the bedcovers being shifted. He looked at the bed in surprise – and then caught his breath with a gasp. Joe’s eyes were open – and he was staring at Frank in evident bafflement!

"Frank?" Joe’s voice was little more than a whisper, weak and rusty from disuse, but Frank thought he’d never heard a more welcome sound than that single syllable. "What…happened?"

"JOE! Oh my God!" Frank sprang to the door and popped his head out, gesturing wildly at the first nurse he saw. "Come here, please, quick – Joe’s awake!" He turned and darted back to Joe’s side. "You’re awake…you’re awake!" he chanted, gripping Joe’s hand tightly in his own.

Joe blinked uncertainly at him, looking extremely bewildered. "Shouldn’t I be?" he whispered, but before Frank could answer, two nurses and two doctors entered the room and shooed him away. Disgruntled but realizing that it was necessary, Frank hurried to the waiting area.

"Mom!" he cried, and Laura looked up, her blue eyes opening wide in apprehension, fearing the worst.

"What is it?" she gasped, leaping to her feet.

"He’s AWAKE!" Frank caroled, and threw his arms about his mother in a huge hug. "Joe’s awake!"

"Oh! Oh, thank God," Laura’s eyes filled with tears of happiness, but her vast relief shone through. Frank hugged her again, holding her tightly.

"Everything’s okay now, Mom – everything – everyone – is all right!"

Only a few moments later, Vanessa and Megan walked in, amid the Hardys’ joy, and were drawn into the group hug. Vanessa was nearly ecstatic, not sure whether to laugh or cry, and attempting to do both at once. When they broke apart, Frank kept his arm tightly around Megan, suddenly realizing just how long it had been since he had held her like that.

"Baby – oh baby, I’ve missed this," he murmured, against her hair, and embraced her again.

Laura wiped her eyes. "We’re acting like a bunch of idiots," she chuckled, and patted Vanessa fondly. "Let’s just settle down and wait to see what the doctors have to say."

They sat down, and waited, impatiently. At long last, the medical personnel exited Joe’s room, and one of the doctors came to the waiting area to speak to them.

"Well, physically he’s doing quite well," he said cheerily. "There seem to be some gaps in his memory, but that’s to be expected!"

"Can we see him now?" Frank demanded impatiently.

"Certainly. Go right ahead." The doctor waved a dismissive hand. "Just try not to tire him out." He turned to go, then stopped and added with a broad grin: "His main complaint was that he was hungry!"

They crowded into Joe’s room, bristling with excitement, and were greeted by a very puzzled-looking Joe, who nevertheless attempted to smile at everyone. The monitors and machines had been unhooked and removed, and the head of the bed was raised slightly. Laura and Megan each hugged him tightly; Vanessa kissed him, and then sank into the nearest chair, clutching his hand in both of hers.

Frank leaned against the bed. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Confused," Joe replied, wrinkling his forehead. "Ow!" he said, reaching to feel the bandage. "What HAPPENED to me, anyway? The doctors said I hit my head, but I don’t remember doing it."

"What do you remember?" Frank countered.

Joe thought about it for a while. "Going out to dinner with Vanessa," he said finally.

"Nothing after that?" Vanessa gasped, and he shook his head.

"No."

"Well…" Frank took a deep breath. "Prepare yourself, bro, you have a lot to catch up on!"

Over the next hour, while Joe lazily consumed jello and soup and crackers, Frank carefully recounted everything that had happened; the whole story behind how Joe had ended up in the hospital; what had happened to Allison’s violin; Robert; everything. Joe was clearly dumbfounded.

"I just can’t remember anything about any of that!" he exclaimed, when Frank finally paused for breath. "Not going to the estate, or mansion, or whatever…and for all I knew, Allison’s violin was still missing, and so was PHIL!"

Frank chuckled. "Well, he’s not missing any longer. And it doesn’t matter if you can’t remember – just so long as you’re awake again, and back with us!"

Joe frowned. "So it wasn’t Allison’s cousin Rodney, then?"

"No, although I have the dope on that, too," Frank grinned. "Allison found out and told Phil, and he told me, yesterday. It seems that the guy who snatched the violin from Allison outside the restaurant was one of Rodney’s friends. But that was the only time Rodney was involved with this whole thing. Zacary took the violin after the concert; just casually picked it up and wandered off with it, in the confusion of everyone milling around and putting their instruments away. He went to the back door and passed it off to his Uncle Julian. Somehow, the door didn’t latch afterwards, and Robert came in that way a little later, hoping to waylay Allison and try to talk her into taking up with him again."

"Why did Rodney want it so badly?" Vanessa inquired, disregarding Robert’s woes. "I mean, he wanted to sell it; he wanted the money, but…why?"

"Apparently, Rodney owns a bar," Frank explained. "Financed by his parents, naturally. Well, he’s sort of made a mess of things with it, and lost a ton of money. Not the best businessman, Rodney! He didn’t want to admit to his father what a hash he’d made of this business venture, so he was trying to get the violin and pay off the debts. Phil said Allison thought he was going to be leaving the area – maybe going over to Europe for awhile. Don’t ask me what he’ll do over there, but at least he’ll be out of her hair! And Robert’s either going to be incarcerated here, or sent back to France."

Laura had excused herself briefly to call home and relay the joyous news to Fenton and Gertrude, and now she returned.

"Your Aunt Gertrude is nearly incoherent with happiness," she reported, her eyes twinkling. "And Dad said ‘Hallelujah! Tell him I’ll be there after I finish sleeping a little longer!’"

They all laughed.

"But honey," Laura continued, "you do need to rest, so we should probably cut this short."

"Just one more thing," Frank said. "I," he continued, impressively, "now have the answer to the final mystery, too."

"What? What final mystery? What did you find?" came a chorus of voices, as Joe, Megan and Vanessa demanded to know what he was talking about.

"Listen to this!" Frank grinned, and took out the printed e-mail message once more.