Sent to the Devil (33 page)

He screamed and doubled over in pain. The dagger clattered to the ground. I rolled out from under him. The dagger was a foot in front of me, on the fountain step. My body throbbed with pain as I grabbed it and used my other hand to pull myself up on the edge of the basin. Urbanek righted himself and lunged for the dagger. I pulled my hand back just in time, but the weapon fell into the empty basin.

I pushed at Urbanek. He grabbed my arm and pulled me. I howled with rage as I twisted away from him and rolled into the basin. I groped for the dagger. He climbed onto the edge and jumped on top of me. We rolled around in the damp, each of us trying to grab the other's neck.

“Repent!” he screamed as he grabbed me and thrust himself on top of me. His hands went around my neck. I grappled to pull them off, but his grasp seemed almost superhuman. I pulled my arm up and poked him in the eye with my finger. He screamed again. I pushed him off me. As he rolled to the side, I pulled myself on top of him, grabbed his neck with both hands, and pressed as hard as I could.

He flailed underneath me. “Do you surrender?” I cried.

He grunted.

“Surrender!” I pressed my hands harder.

Then a shot rang out behind me.

 

Thirty-seven

“Giacomo! Thank God you're here!”

“Give up, Urbanek!” a strange voice called. “Signor Poet, I have him covered. You can let go.”

I turned my head in the direction of the voice. “Giacomo? Where are you?”

Another shot rang out. Urbanek pushed me off him, thrusting me against the basin wall. My head banged into a jutting stone. He groped for the dagger, grabbed it, climbed out the opposite end of the basin, and ran in the direction of the Capuchin Church.

“Are you injured, Signor Poet?” I looked up to see the young man in the green cloak leaning over me. I frowned. Where was Casanova?

“Get him! He'll escape!” I cried.

Green Cloak ran after Urbanek. I pulled myself up, climbed out of the basin, and hobbled after him. My legs felt like aspic. Green Cloak passed the entrance to the church and turned the corner.

When I arrived at the far side of the old building, I found Green Cloak standing by a large wooden door, which stood ajar. He gestured for me to join him.

“He's gone down there, into the crypt,” he whispered, pointing to a stairway that was shrouded in darkness. I shuddered. The wooden door groaned as Green Cloak pulled it open and gestured for me to follow him down the stairs. “Keep quiet,” he whispered. “Stay right behind me.” I nodded. We plunged into the darkness, Green Cloak feeling his way down the stairs, I keeping close behind him. When we finally reached flat ground, Green Cloak fumbled for the handle of another door. The hinges creaked loudly as he pulled the door open and we entered the crypt.

A lonely torch burned in a sconce inside the door. Green Cloak took it down. “Are you all right, signore?” he asked under his breath.

“Yes,” I whispered. “But who are you? Why are you here?”

He placed a finger on his lips. “Later,” he said.

We stood silently in the torchlight. The low space was filled with the tombs of the Habsburg family. I could just make out the nearest sarcophagi, which were large bronze monuments. I strained to hear an indication that Urbanek was here in the crypt. The scurrying of tiny feet came from somewhere ahead of us.

“Just rats,” Green Cloak said. “Stay behind me, signore.” He waved the torch in a broad arc. To our left, marble nymphs sat weeping at the base of a large monument, which was faintly lit by moonlight pouring in a window behind it.

“The old empress's tomb,” Green Cloak whispered. A faint humming sound came from our right. Green Cloak swung the torch in that direction. “Follow me, signore,” he murmured.

To my left, just beyond the circle of light, I saw several more large tombs. I followed Green Cloak for a few steps, past a large monument on my right. The humming sound grew louder.

I gulped for breath as I followed Green Cloak, keeping my eyes on the ground so I would not trip over any of the old stones that lined the floor of the crypt. As we passed a large monument, I looked up, and came face-to-face with the head of a skeleton wearing a jeweled, golden crown. He grinned at me, his bronze mouth frozen in a rictus of death. I stifled a cry.

We passed into a larger room of the crypt. In the flickering of the torchlight, I made out over a dozen sarcophagi, many of them small. Ahead of us, off to the right, a voice began to chant.

“‘Oh, queen! Why in your anger did you choose to end your life?'”

“Urbanek!” Green Cloak called. “Come out. Surrender yourself!”

The chanting stopped. All was silent, except for the scrabbling noise of the rats. Green Cloak inched forward, motioning me to follow.

“‘A figure, crucified—his face stained with disdain and fury as he died!'” Urbanek cried.

“Do you understand what he is saying?” Green Cloak asked me in a low voice.

“It's from Dante,” I whispered. “It's about the sin of wrath.” We moved down the line of coffins. The torch illuminated a narrow doorway a few feet ahead of us on the right.

“‘Below him the great Ahasuerus, and Esther!'” the deranged priest shouted from inside the doorway.

Green Cloak gestured for me to wait, and then inched over to the door. He held the torch up and peered inside. He turned to me and motioned me over.

An eerie sensation gripped me as I walked toward him. The doorway led to a tiny room, only large enough to hold two ancient caskets side by side. They bore small bronze carvings of lions' heads, and sat on legs shaped to resemble the legs of that noble beast. Urbanek had wedged himself into the narrow area between the rightmost casket and the wall. He was hunched in the corner, holding the dagger to his own throat. His wild eyes looked at us.

“Repent!” he shrieked. “Change your life!”

“Urbanek, come out!” Green Cloak called.

The priest did not answer him. He seemed in his own world, holding a court where he was both judge and the judged. “The ultimate hour is here!” he cried. He pushed the dagger closer to his throat. “No!” he screamed.

“Urbanek, drop the dagger,” Green Cloak said.

“Repent!” the priest screamed again.

His face was white in the torchlight. “Who tears at my spirit? Who roils my bowels?” he said softly.

My stomach heaved as I watched him. I willed myself to look away, but I could not.

“Come, there is a worse fate for you,” he said. He pulled the dagger away from his throat. Green Cloak exhaled loudly.

“The terrors of the inferno,” Urbanek said in a loud whisper. He raised his head and stared directly at me. My legs shook violently. The priest raised the dagger, screamed, and drew the blade across his neck in one rapid motion.

A gurgling noise filled the small room. Stars danced before my eyes.

“Christ!” Green Cloak shouted.

My legs melted beneath me, and I fell into darkness.

 

Thirty-eight

I opened my eyes to bright light and a familiar voice.

“Ah, there you are, Lorenzo.” Casanova leaned over me. “I was worried about you. You've stirred a few times over the past hours, but then fell back to sleep.”

“Where am I?” I asked. My voice was hoarse, my throat tight and dry.

“In the Hofburg,” Casanova said. “You are safe. Urbanek is dead.”

I reached up to find bandages around my throat.

“Your wounds will heal in a few weeks, the surgeon said.” Green Cloak moved into my range of vision. “You were very brave, Signor Poet.”

“Who are you?” I rasped.

He gave a small bow. “Thomas Zack, signore. Special agent to Count Pergen.”

I frowned. “I don't understand.”

“I work on special security matters for the count, signore. Apparently the emperor was very angry that you had been placed in danger during your investigation of the murders at the Palais Gabler. So as soon as you agreed to investigate this case, the count assigned me to follow you.”

“But when I accosted you in the street—why didn't you tell me who you were?”

“My instructions were to let you go about your business. Also, I could not be everywhere, at all times. I wanted you to believe that you were being menaced, so you would remain alert.”

I mulled this over for a moment. “I am grateful to you,” I told Zack. “You saved my life.”

He smiled. “I wouldn't say that, signore. You seemed to be defending yourself well before I intervened. I shot my pistol because I thought you were going to kill Urbanek.”

I looked over at Casanova. “What happened to you, Giacomo?”

“I arrived at the Neuer Market early, as we had arranged. The fiend must have already been there, waiting. He sneaked up behind me and hit me on the head. I came to when I heard you and Urbanek fighting. I was trussed up like a roasted pigeon, but after a few moments, I escaped my binds.” He glanced over at Zack. “I saw you and Urbanek rolling around inside the fountain. I was about to come to your aid when this fellow showed up and shot his pistol.”

Zack winked at me. “Yes, that's how I remember it.”

“Where were Troger's men?” I asked.

“There was an incident in the Am Hof earlier in the evening. There were reports that someone, possibly Turkish spies, tried to break into the armory. Men were called from every service to search the northwest part of the city. It was a waste of time and men—some overly imaginative residents in the Am Hof saw some workmen and raised a false alarm. Troger sent his men out there, and kept one back to follow Father Krause.”

“He assumed you would be at the Neuer Market to protect me,” I murmured.

“Yes, he thought that between me and the man following Krause, we could subdue and capture him.”

A knock sounded at the door. Zack went to answer it.

I looked at Casanova. “Urbanek! I just don't understand. I never suspected him. How could his mind have become so twisted?”

Casanova patted my hand. “He was a madman, Lorenzo. There was nothing you could have done differently.”

Zack returned to us, a message in his hands. “I've been called to a meeting. I must leave you now. Please stay and rest as long as you like, Signor Poet. If you would like something to eat or drink, simply ring the bell.”

I shook his hand. “Thank you.”

“We will meet again soon, signore, I am sure,” he said.

*   *   *

After Zack left, I lay back on the pillows.

“Would you like to eat, Lorenzo?” Casanova asked.

“What time is it?”

“Past two.”

“I've been sleeping for twelve hours?”

“Yes. You woke a few times, but after a few minutes went back to sleep. You must be hungry now.”

“No, I have no appetite. But if you want something, ring the bell,” I told him.

I lay quietly, straining to recall everything Urbanek had told me about his crimes. Some question floated at the back of my brain. What had he said? I sighed. I was too tired and dazed to think of it.

I leaned back and closed my eyes, trying to slow down the thoughts that tumbled through my mind. Then it came to me. I sat up straight. “Giacomo! Where are my clothes?”

Casanova jumped. “What is it, Lorenzo?”

“My clothes. Give them to me. We must go to my office, right now!”

*   *   *

I dressed quickly and the two of us found our way out of the Hofburg. We hurried into the Michaelerplatz.

“What is it, Lorenzo?” Casanova asked.

“Von Gerl. While you were unconscious, Urbanek explained to me how and why he killed each victim. He gloated about the messages he used to lure them to their deaths. But when I asked about von Gerl, he reacted strangely. It was as though he didn't know who I was talking about. He grew enraged and attacked me.”

I opened the front door of the theater.

“I believed I just couldn't find the Dante passages because von Gerl had hidden them somewhere in his vast collections,” I murmured. “But maybe there never were any.”

“What are you saying?” Casanova followed me down the stairs. “That Urbanek did not kill von Gerl?”

“Yes.” We entered my office.

“But you told me his forehead was carved, like some of the others,” Casanova said.

“They were, but they were different, deeper,” I said. “I noticed that, but Benda said it was likely that the killer was just becoming more frenzied.”

I crossed over to my bookshelf and took down the small leather pouch the constable had given me at the Belvedere.

“But who else could have killed him?” Casanova asked.

I brought the bag over to my desk and sat down. “I don't know. Perhaps someone with a personal grudge against von Gerl, who took the opportunity to kill him and make it look like Urbanek's handiwork.” I recalled Teuber's mumbled threat against his master, and Stefan standing in the shadows watching Sophie ride off in the baron's carriage. I dumped the contents of the bag on the desk. “Maybe there is something here that will give us a clue.”

Casanova pulled the other chair opposite me and sat. I sifted through the various ribbons, feathers, pieces of broken glass and pipe stems, shoe buckles, and jewelry. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Casanova pick an object from the pile.

“There's nothing here that will tell us who murdered von Gerl,” I said, slapping my hand against the desk in frustration.

Casanova was staring at me.

“What is it?” I asked.

He opened his large hand to show an earring.

I gestured toward the pile. “There are other pieces of jewelry in there,” I said. “Benda told me the general gave a large party at the end of the season. Wooing couples found their way into the
bosquets.
Some of the ladies lost their jewels.”

Casanova's eyes were filled with pity. “Don't you recognize this, Lorenzo?” he asked softly.