They could not help me. There was no regular route to be followed. What Davy called the circuit was more a web than a path. From Montreaux, there were certain cities which were logical destinations and others which were not, but I could figure that out for myself with a map. Eventually they should reach Oslo. Oslo was a good gig for street musicians and Eric was Norwegian. But by the same reasoning, that should be one of his last stops for the summer, and I needed to find them now.

“Look, Ian,” Colin said, “I really would like to help, but this isn’t the way to do it. What you need to do is go back to Montreaux, find a xerox machine and make up a hundred copies of those pictures. Dave and Kristin and I will take them with us and pass them around. You put that phone number you gave me right on the copy. Eventually, someone we know, or someone who knows someone we know, will see Eric or Raven. They can pass on a message or call your friend in Marseille.”

I was moved by his simple acceptance and willingness to help.  He waved my thanks aside, and we moved on to other subjects.

The next morning I caught the first westbound steamer for Montreaux. I walked the early morning streets for two hours before I found a place to make copies. On the master copy I wrote Will’s phone number at the consulate, along with the message, “Raven, I need to talk to you about the men who came on board the Wahini in Marseille. Call Will for details.” Then I called Will. He was out, so I left a message and caught a steamer back to the campground. Colin was gone already, and Dave and Kristin were breaking camp. They said they would see Colin again in Locarno and would pass his half of the copies on at that time.

I broke camp myself, took a steamer back to Montreaux once again, and called Susyn. She was out, but she had left a message for me saying that she had had no luck.

I went to the youth hostel and hit paydirt. Sort of. Eric and Raven had been there while I was camping at Villeneuve, but they had checked out. They hadn’t said where they were going. It took all morning to find someone who had talked to them, and she didn’t know where they were going to go next. Then came the midday lockout. I walked the streets of Montreaux, frustrated, looking for street musicians, but none of them knew anything. Most of them were suspicious. It takes time to gain rapport as I had with Colin, Dave, and Kristin. Time and patience, and I was in a mood to pound walls. I called Susyn. She was still out. 

Finally, the youth hostel opened and I checked in. I doubted that I would be staying the night, but checking in gave me a right to be there. By five that evening I had as close to a lead as I was going to get. Eric had mentioned going to Salzburg, and Raven had wanted to go to Venice. more tomorrow