"Who was she?"

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you lad." He opened his eyes and looked directly at Peter. He could see the burning need to know lurking behing his eyes, but he was too polite to blurt out the questions he was dying to ask.

"I can see that you're dying to know. You won't get far in your line of work if you're not prepared to ask questions."

Peter thought about his comment.

"Will you tell me who she was?"

The old man picked up his wallet and removed a dog-eared piece of paper which he handed to Peter. He unfolded it and looked down at a sketch of an exquisitely beautiful young woman. She was stunning; with skin like alabaster and hair as dark as pitch.

"She was a princess my boy. We came home from the mines one day and found her asleep on our doorstep. The poor thing was terrified. She'd run away from a huntsman her stepmother had sent to kill her. She was a terribly jealous woman her stepmother, she couldn't handle the thought that her stepdaughter was more beautiful than she. We persuaded the young princess to stay with us, admittedly we had ulterior motives when we first suggested it but she was such a sweet young thing, we soon forgot about that! Her stepmother tried her damnedest to get to her. We tried our best to protect her but she was so trusting. When an old peddler woman knocked on the door selling her wares, she thought nothing of letting her in. The poor girl was poisoned by an apple she gave her. She never realised it was her stepmother in disguise. Evil woman. She got what was coming to her. She ended up being ripped apart by wolves. A fitting end if you ask me. We buried the young princess in a coffin made of diamond. We thought it only right that her last resting place was as beautiful as she was."

The old man wiped a tear from his eye.

"Ah lad, the follies of youth eh?"

Peter studied the old man closely.

"Can I ask you what your name really is? I get the feeling that 'Mr Smith' is an assumed name."

"Does it matter lad? Does it matter?"

Peter thought carefully before answering. Did it matter? He didn't think so but his curiosity demanded to be satisfied.

"Not really sir, but my curiosity is begging for an answer."

The old man chuckled to himself.

"Honest, my boy. I admire honest answers. There are far too many people willing to tell you what they think you want to hear."

The old man paused, thinking carefully about his answer. He looked Peter directly in the eyes, as if he was looking forward to his reaction.

"My name is Klaus lad. But I was known to many as Grumpy."