2. That they knew nothing of the tragedy until Alexander Baltazzi and his brother-in-law, Count George Stockau, were ordered to proceed to Meyerling, in a closed carriage, accompanied by a member of the secret police, and remove Mary Vetsera’s body for secret burial in the cemetery of the Cistercian Abbey of Heiligenkreuz. “And,” said the policeman, “you are to support the body between you in such a way as to make it appear that the Baroness still lives.” The purpose of that order was clear enough. The matter was to be hushed up and the truth to be concealed, no matter whose feelings suffered in the process, in order that scandal might be avoided and the remnants of the Crown Prince’s reputation be preserved. Mary Vetsera’s name was not to be mentioned in connection with the Meyerling affair, but it was to be given out—all her relatives being parties to the deception—that she had died a natural death elsewhere. But that end was not achieved. It leaked out—as such things do leak out—that Mary Vetsera and the Crown Prince had died together; and the next thing to be done was to get rid of the theory of murder, and produce evidence in support of the theory of suicide. And here it is important to note that we are faced by a direct conflict of testimony. The medical certificates, as we have seen, demonstrate that Rudolph did not shoot himself, but was shot; but the inference which they compel was never formally drawn from them in any court of investigation; and presently letters were handed to the Press, in which both Rudolph and Mary Vetsera appeared to have announced their intention of taking their own lives. The first letter was from Rudolph to the Duke of Braganza:— “DEAR FRIEND, “It is necessary that I should die. No other course is open to me. I hope you are well. “I remain, At your service, RUDOLPH.” The other letter was from Mary Vetsera to her mother:— “DEAR MOTHER, “I am going to die with Rudolph. We love each other too much. I ask your forgiveness and say farewell. “Your very unhappy MARY.” Nobody has ever regarded those letters—or other similar letters which have been circulated—as anything but forgeries. They impress one, indeed, not only as forgeries, but as clumsy forgeries. But here again Countess Marie Larisch makes a new contribution to the inquiry. Three weeks after Mary Vetsera’s death, she says, she received the following letter, found on the bedside table at Meyerling, but held back by the police:— “DEAR MARIE, “Forgive me all the trouble I have caused. I thank you so much for everything you have done for me. If life becomes hard for you, and I fear it will after what we have done, follow us. It is the best thing you can do. “Your MARY.”