The Hangman's Daughter (31 page)

“One more night?” Hans Hohenleitner asked. The devil nodded.

“And how are you going to find that treasure?”

“Leave that to me. You just take care of the girl.”

Christoph Holzapfel stepped closer again.

“And where are we supposed to hide, huh? The place will be crawling with troops tomorrow.”

The devil smiled.

“I know an absolutely safe place. They won’t find you there. And you’ll have a great view.”

He told them the place. Then he set out for the town. Magdalena bit her lips. Tears were streaming over her cheeks. She struggled to turn her face away from the soldiers. They mustn’t see her cry.

The two men were standing near the building site watching the workmen. Some of the bricklayers and carpenters waved to them. Perhaps they were wondering what business the two men had here, but they didn’t harbor the slightest suspicion. The two men there were respected burghers. Presumably they just wanted to see for themselves how the construction was proceeding.

There wasn’t much left to see of the last day’s damage. The walls of the leper house were being raised again, and there was a new roof truss on the walls of the chapel. Two bailiffs were sitting at the edge of the well in the middle of the clearing, killing time by playing dice. The court clerk had ordered the entire area to be guarded day and night, and his orders had been quite precise, as usual. They had nailed together a wooden shelter for the bailiffs, where they could get cover from the rain. There were lanterns hanging on the outer wall of the shelter, and two halberds were leaning next to them.

“And you have really searched the entire place?” the older man was now asking.

The younger man nodded. “Everything. And several times. I really don’t know where else we could look. But it
has to be
here somewhere!”

The other man shrugged. “Maybe the old miser was lying. Maybe he was delirious on his deathbed. An old man’s feverish ravings, and we fell for them…”

He groaned loudly and held his side. He had to bend over briefly for the pain to subside. Then he turned to walk away.

“One way or another, the matter is over and done with.”

“Over and done with?” The younger man ran after him, grabbed him by the shoulder, and turned him around. “What do you mean, over and done with? We can still keep looking. I haven’t paid the soldiers in full yet. For just a few more guilders they’ll raze everything to the ground here and root about like hogs. The treasure is somewhere here. I…I can feel it!”

“Damn it, it’s over and done with!” The older man pushed the younger man’s hand off his shoulder almost in disgust. “The area is under surveillance. Besides, you’ve stirred up enough dirt as it is. Lechner knows about your soldiers, and the hangman and that Fronwieser fellow are on your heels. They stick their noses into everything. They even went to see the priest. It’s too much of a risk for us. The matter is over and done with, once and for all!”

“But…” The younger man held him back another time.

Indignantly, the older man shook his head, holding his side once more. He gave a loud groan.

“I have plenty of other things to think about now. Thanks to your soldiers we’ll have the count and his men in this town tomorrow. And presumably we’ll have a big trial, people will be dragged off to the stakes again, and Schongau will go to the dogs. And all because of you, you damned idiot! I’m ashamed. For you and for our family. And now let go of me. I wish to go.”

The older man stomped off, leaving the younger man behind at the building site in the mud. Mud was all over his shiny leather boots, but he wouldn’t give up! He was going to show the others! A wave of anger came over him.

Some of the workmen waved at him, and he waved back, but they couldn’t see his face, which hatred had turned to stone.

CHAPTER
14

M
ONDAY
A
PRIL
30,
A.D
. 1659
T
WO O’CLOCK IN THE AFTERNOON

S
IMON RAN DOWN THE HENNENGASSE WITH ANNA
Maria Kuisl to the Lech Gate and on through the tanners’ quarter. The news that something might have happened to Magdalena spurred him on faster than he had ever run before. Soon he had left the hangman’s wife far behind. His heart was racing, and a metallic taste filled his mouth. In spite of this he didn’t stop until he arrived at the hangman’s house. There it stood, in the most beautiful midday sunshine. Some finches were chirping in the apple trees in the garden, and from far off the calls of the raftsmen could be heard. Otherwise all was quiet. The bench in front of the house was empty, and the front door stood wide open. Under one of the apple trees an empty swing was moving slowly in the wind.

“My God, the children!” Anna Maria Kuisl had caught up with Simon in the meantime. “Not the children too—”

Without finishing her sentence she ran past Simon into the house, and he followed her inside. In the living room they encountered two five-year-old angels of innocence sitting in a pool of milk. Next to them lay a broken pitcher. They were eating honey with their fingers from an earthenware bowl and were covered from head to toe in white dust. Only then did Simon see that the flour barrel had also been toppled over.

“Georg and Barbara, just what are you…”

Anna Maria was about to begin an angry tirade, but the relief at finding the twins unharmed was too great. She couldn’t help laughing out loud. However she quickly got a hold of herself once more.

“Upstairs and into bed with you, you two! I don’t want to see either one of you down here for at least an hour. Just look at what you’ve done!”

Contritely, the twins trotted upstairs. While Anna Maria Kuisl wiped up the milk and swept up the shards and the flour, she told Simon again briefly what had happened.

“I arrived here, and there he was sitting on the bench, as if he had been turned to stone. When I asked him what had happened he only said that Magdalena was gone. That the devil had taken her. The devil, my God.”

She threw the shards carelessly into a corner and pressed one hand to her mouth. Tears ran from her eyes. She had to sit down.

“Simon, tell me, what does it all mean?”

The physician gave her a long look without answering. Thoughts raced through his mind. He wanted to jump up and do something, but he did not know what that might be. Where was Magdalena? Where was the hangman? Did he follow her? Could he perhaps know where the devil had taken his daughter? And what did the man want with the girl?

“I…I can’t tell you exactly,” he murmured finally. “But I think that the man responsible for kidnapping the children has gone off with Magdalena.”

“Oh God!” Anna Maria Kuisl buried her face in her hands. “But why? Why? What does he want from my little girl?”

“I think he wants to blackmail your husband. He wants us to stop pursuing him and leave him alone.”

The hangman’s wife looked up with hope in her eyes. “And if you do what he wants, will he let Magdalena go?”

Simon would have loved to nod, to console her and to tell her that her daughter would come back soon, but he couldn’t. Instead he stood up and walked to the door.

“Will he let her go?” Anna Kuisl’s voice was pleading. She was almost shouting. Simon did not look back.

“I don’t think so. This man is sick and evil. He will kill her unless we find her first.”

He ran through the garden and back to town. Behind him he could hear the twins beginning to cry. They had been hiding on the stairs and listening. Although they could not have understood anything, they still could sense that something very bad must have happened.

At first Simon wandered aimlessly through the streets of the tanners’ quarter and then down along the river. He had to get his thoughts together, and the Lech’s lazy current helped him do that. There were two possibilities. He needed to either find the hiding place where the devil was holding Magdalena or discover who had given the devil his instructions. Once he knew who that was, he might be able to free Magdalena from her abductor’s clutches—if she was still alive.

Simon shuddered. The possibility that his beloved could already be floating down the river with her throat cut open kept him from thinking of anything else. He could not allow this image to overwhelm him. Besides it made no sense. Magdalena was the devil’s hostage, and he would not be quick to throw away this security.

Simon had no idea where the devil could have hidden Magdalena. But he had a suspicion as to where the children might be who could tell him who the devil’s patron was. They had to be somewhere at the building site. But where exactly?

Damn it, where
?

He decided to visit Jakob Schreevogl once more. After all, the property had once belonged to his father. Perhaps he knew about a possible hiding place that Simon and the hangman had not yet found.

A half an hour later he was once more up at the market square. The stalls were noticeably emptier in the early afternoon, as the burghers were done with their shopping. The market women were stowing away the leftover vegetables in baskets or looking after their whining children, who had to remain with them all day at the stand. Wilted lettuce leaves and rotting cabbage were lying on the ground amid horse droppings and oxen dung. Now people were hurrying home. Tomorrow would be the first of May, and for many this holiday was already starting. It was time to prepare for May Day. As in many other Bavarian villages and towns, Schongau would celebrate the beginning of summer tomorrow. This night belonged to lovers. Simon closed his eyes. Actually he had planned to spend May Day with Magdalena. He felt a lump in his throat. The more he thought about it, the more he felt fear creeping up on him.

Suddenly he remembered that tonight something entirely different would also be celebrated. How could he have forgotten. This was the night of April 30—Walpurgis Night! Witches danced in the forests and mated with the devil, and many people armed themselves against evil by means of magic: magic signs in their windows and salt before their doors. Did the terrible murders and strange symbols have anything to do with Walpurgis Night after all? Even though Simon doubted it, he still feared that this night could be a pretext for some burghers to kill the alleged witch in the jailhouse. His time was running short.

He walked past the castle into the Bauerngasse and was soon standing in front of the Schreevogls’ house. A servant girl was standing on the balcony, warily looking down at Simon. Word had gotten around in the meantime that he was having an affair with the hangman’s daughter. When Simon waved at her she disappeared into the house without a greeting to inform her young master.

A short time later Jakob Schreevogl opened the door and let Simon in.

“Simon, what a pleasure! I hope the suspicion against me has been dissipated. Do you have anything new about my Clara?”

Simon wondered for a moment to what extent he could confide in the patrician. As before, he was not sure of the role Jakob Schreevogl was playing in this drama. He therefore decided to be very brief.

“We believe that soldiers murdered the children because they had seen something they were not supposed to see. But we don’t know what that could have been.”

The patrician nodded.

“I suspect that as well. But the council does not want to believe you. Only this morning they met again. The bigwigs want to have everything sorted out. And so a witch and the devil fits their picture a lot better, especially now when time is running short. The Elector’s secretary is arriving tomorrow.”

Simon winced.

“Tomorrow already? Then we have less time than I hoped.”

“Besides, Semer denies that the soldiers met with someone upstairs in his rooms,” continued Jakob Schreevogl.

Simon uttered a dry laugh.

“A lie! Resl, Semer’s maid, told me that it happened, and she was able to describe the soldiers exactly. And they did go upstairs!”

“And if Resl was mistaken?”

Simon shook his head.

“She was absolutely sure of herself. It’s more likely that the burgomaster is lying.” He sighed. “In the meantime I no longer have any idea who to trust…but I came for something else. We have an idea about Clara and Sophie’s hiding place.”

Jakob Schreevogl hurried over to him and grabbed him by the shoulders.

“Where? Tell me, where? I’ll do everything I can to find them.”

“Well, we believe they could be hiding at the building site for the leper house.”

The patrician blinked in disbelief.

“At the building site?”

Simon nodded and started to walk up and down nervously in the antechamber.

“We found traces of clay under the fingernails of the dead children. Clay that could have come from the leper house building site. It is quite possible that the children saw something there from their hiding place and don’t dare to come out now. However we did search all around and didn’t find anything.”

He turned again to the patrician.

“Do you have any idea where the children could have hidden? Did your late father tell you anything? About a cavern? A hole under the foundations? Was there some other building on the property, a building whose cellar could still exist? The priest was talking about an old altar from pagan times…”

Jakob Schreevogl settled into a chair next to the chimney and thought for a long time. Finally he shook his head.

“Not that I know of. The property has belonged to our family for several generations. I believe that even in my great-grand-parents’ time, they had cows and sheep grazing there. As far as I know, there was a chapel or church there long ago and quite possibly also some kind of sacrificial altar. But that was very long ago. We never did much with the property until I decided to have the kiln built there.”

Suddenly his eyes shone.

“The town records…Something like this must be recorded there!”

“The town records?” asked Simon.

“Yes, there is a record in the town registers for every contract, every purchase, and even every donation made in town. Johann Lechner in particular takes great care as the court clerk to see that everything is in good order. When my father left the parcel to the church, an official certificate of donation was prepared. And as far as I can remember, an old map of the property still in my father’s possession was attached to that document.”

Simon felt his mouth go dry. He had the feeling of being close to a solution.

“And where are these…town records?”

The patrician shrugged.

“Well, where would they be? In the Ballenhaus, of course. In the clerk’s office next to the council chamber. Lechner keeps everything in the closet there, everything that is of any importance for the town. You could ask him if you may have a look.”

Simon nodded and turned to the door. There he turned around once more.

“You have helped me very much. Thank you.”

Jakob Schreevogl smiled.

“You need not thank me. Bring me back my Clara—that would be thanks enough.” The alderman ascended the wide stairs. “And now you’ll excuse me. My wife is still sick. I shall go look after her now.”

Suddenly he stopped once more. He seemed to remember something.

“There was something else…”

Simon looked up at him expectantly.

“Well,” Jakob Schreevogl continued, “my father saved a good deal of money in his life. Very much money. As you know we had a falling out shortly before his death. I had always assumed that after the argument he had left his entire fortune to the church. But I spoke with the priest…”

“And?”

“Well, the only thing the church has is this piece of land. I’ve looked everywhere in our house, but I have not been able to find the money anywhere.”

Simon barely heard him anymore. He was again outside, in the street.

In long strides the physician rushed to the Ballenhaus. He was quite certain that the court clerk would never let him look at the town records. At the building site that morning he had made it very clear to him and the hangman what he thought of their suspicions, which was pretty much nothing at all. Johann Lechner wanted peace in the town and not some physician snooping around in his records and possibly discovering a secret that could cost one of the patricians his head. But Simon knew that he simply
had
to see that contract. The only question was how.

In front of the Ballenhaus two bailiffs carrying halberds were hanging around and watched as the last of the market women cleaned up their stalls. Now, in the afternoon, the two guards were the only ones still on duty. Simon knew that there would also no longer be any aldermen in the building. The council meeting had been at noon today, the patricians had long gone home to their families, and the court clerk was over in the castle. The Ballenhaus stood empty. He only had to get past the two bailiffs.

Smiling, he approached the pair. One of them had been his patient at one time.

“Well, Georg, how is your cough?” he asked. “Did it get any better since I gave you the linden blossoms for your infusion?”

The bailiff shook his head. As proof he coughed a few times loudly.

“Unfortunately not, sir. It’s gotten worse. And now my chest also hurts. I can barely do my service. I’ve already prayed three rosaries, but that didn’t help either.”

Simon looked at him thoughtfully. Suddenly his expression lightened up.

“Well, I may have something that could help you. A powder from the West Indies…” He pulled out a small bag and looked apprehensively up at the sky.

“Actually it should be taken as long as the noonday sun is straight overhead. It’s almost too late now.”

The bailiff Georg coughed a second time and reached for the little bag.

“I’ll take it, sir. Right now. How much is it going to cost?”