Nemesis

by Margit Sandemo

  They snuck round the corner of the inn.

  “Here’s Alexander’s horse,” said Cecilie, frightened. “It’s quite sweaty so he must have just arrived.” They crept into the deserted backyard and up the stairs.

  Jessica hesitated in the darkness up there. She groped her way.

  “This is the door to ‘our’ room,” she whispered.

  “Then this must be ...”

  She fell silent. They heard somebody move about inside.

  Cecilie went resolutely forward and opened the door without knocking.

  What they then saw made them both gasp for breath.

  Alexander stood bent over someone. He rose sharply and stared at them.

  “Oh, no,” whispered Cecilie. “Alexander ...”

  A man lay on the floor in a twisted position and was covered in blood. Jessica understood at once that this was Hans Barth. Tancred’s description of him had been very precise.

  “I don’t think so,” said Jessica randomly. “He had brought a pistol with him.”

  Cecilie understood what she meant. “And this man has been stabbed with a knife. Many, many times. My goodness, he’s really deteriorated, Alexander! That handsome man – and now he’s just a wreck!”

  At last her husband managed to say a few desperate words, ”What are you doing here?”

  “We followed you.”

  “I hope you didn’t think that I ...?”

  “What were we to believe? The pistol and untamed fury. That’s not a nice combination.”

  “But ... I’m not the one who’s committed this. You must be crazy! I arrived just before you. No, I’m scared that...”

  “Tancred did this? So am I,” said Cecilie. “What do we do? We must report this.”

  “I was just about to do that when you came. Oh God. My son. What have you done?”

  When Jessica came round after being in her own thoughts, she felt a strong, inner protest. “Wait!” she said. “Look here!”

  She pointed at the table. A few cards were scattered on the table. And a pile of letters stuck out from the drawer under the table top.

  “The letter?” she said.

  “Hans Barth would never have left such an important thing,” murmured Cecilie.

  Alexander walked as if hypnotised over to the table and pulled the drawer open. There were traces of blood on the two top letters.

  “His fingers were not the last ones to touch them,” said Cecilie.

  Alexander rummaged through them.

  “Here,” he said, monotonously.

  “Put it in your pocket, quick,” said Cecilie. “Then we’ll sneak out without saying anything. Now there’s no evidence against you nor Tancred.”

  “No, wait. This is dangerous,” said Jessica. “It may bring its own punishment. Besides, Tancred was here this evening. The letter is the best proof that he’s innocent, don’t you see? Here are four other letters with different handwriting on them. They were placed in such a way that somebody would find them. And the Marquis’ was still there!”

  “We want you to call us Mum and Dad, Jessica!” said Cecilie quickly.

  “Thank you,” smiled Jessica tense and absent-mindedly. “It’s a long time since I had parents. Well? Do you understand my theory?”

  “You’re absolutely right, my little girl,” said Alexander, relieved. “Tancred is innocent. Somebody else must have done it.”

  “At any rate, none of those who’ve written these letters. If they murdered Hans, they would have taken their letter with them. There must have been six people from the beginning.”

  “Bravo, Jessica,” mumbled Cecilie. “If we’d removed Alexander’s letter, the suspicion would have been on Tancred.”

  “Exactly.”

  “We must report the murder,” said Alexander. “Only what do we do with the pile of letters?”

  That was a problem. The letters were proof that Tancred and the letter writers were innocent.

  “The innkeeper must know whom he met here,” said Cecilie. “We simply have to report it. Alexander, keep the letters for the time being! Then we must wait and see what happens.”

  They went downstairs and put the cards – but of course not the letters – on the table. The innkeeper immediately sent for the bailiff, who lived close by.

  “This is something I’ve been waiting for to happen for quite some time,” said the innkeeper. “There are many who have cursed this chap!”

  That was certainly a positive sign.

  “I told him many times that I didn’t want him here, but he just didn’t gave a damn.”

  The bailiff came and while he examined the room, Alexander, Cecilie and Jessica sat in the bar, which was now deserted, and waited. Then the bailiff came downstairs – a short, hot-headed man.

  “I hear that your son was in touch with the deceased this evening?”

  “Yes, we believe that he was.”

  “He was,” said the innkeeper. “They were in this bar for a short moment. Your son was very agitated. Then he went out to his horse. Immediately afterwards, he rode towards Copenhagen.”

  “And the other man?”

  “He remained seated here. Afterwards he went upstairs.”

  “And then ...?”

  “I can’t guarantee that Mr. Tancred didn’t come back. On many occasions he’s threatened to kill Mr. Barth. But he wasn’t the only one who wanted him dead and gone.”

  Alexander sighed and showed him the letters while still holding them in his hand. He told about the blackmail, about the blood spots and where the letters were placed. He finished off by saying, “I haven’t read the letters, bailiff. But I know what it says in the letter I wrote long, long ago. There’s no doubt that people’s secrets are exposed in all the letters. Hans Barth wasn’t a good person. He exploited people’s weaknesses for his own gain. I suggest that we burn the letters without reading them but merely write down the signatures so that you can rule out the letter writers. Or contact them if you like.”

  “Burning evidence is completely against the law. These men are bound to have nothing to do with the murder. There must have been another letter.”

  The bailiff chewed it over for a while.

  “How do you know that all these letters are from men?”“None of them are in a woman’s handwriting.”

  “You, Mr. Innkeeper, must have seen several men here,” said Cecilie. “If we begin with the signatures, maybe you’ll recall who they are and eliminate them?”

  “And if there’s no signature?”

  “There’s bound to be. Otherwise there’d be no reason for blackmail.”

  “Continue,” said the bailiff. “If this doesn’t work, then I’ll read the letters. You can be sure I will!”

  Alexander prayed silently to God.

  Cecilie was chosen to be the one to look at the signatures. She opened the first letter.

  It said, “Your own Arne.”

  “Arne,” was all she said.

  The innkeeper considered it and said, “I know him well. He came here last Monday.”

  “Next,” said the bailiff.

  “H.C.” said Cecilie.

  “Yes, that’s Clingen. I haven’t seen him for a while.”

  And so it continued. Sometimes the full name was stated, and sometimes it was merely a hint. The innkeeper managed to identify them all, except one. But he was of no importance as he was hardly the murderer.

  “Well?” said Alexander to the innkeeper. “Do you recall somebody that Barth would meet here whose name hasn’t been mentioned?”

  “Yes, well ... Those just mentioned were probably the majority. And then Mr. Tancred, of course.”

  “I have that letter here,” said Alexander, patting his pocket.

  “May we see it?” asked the bailiff. “Just for a moment.”
<
br />   Alexander took it out of his pocket and showed it.

  “It looks like an old letter. It also says Hans Barth. That’ll do for the moment.”

  “Oh, there’s something I’ve completely forgotten,” said the innkeeper. “There’s one more ... Only I don’t know whether he was here this evening. I don’t think so. Wait, I’ll ask the others!”

  He went into the kitchen and returned quickly.

  “Yes, my wife says he was here, after young Mr. Tancred.”

  “His name?”

  The innkeeper whispered it to the bailiff, whose eyes were wide open. He got up.

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all. Thank you, Marquis. You may leave now.”

  “And the letters?”

  “We’ll burn them here. I’m not an unreasonable person.”

  “Thank you, Mr. bailiff. However, if you trust my discretion I think it might be better to return them to the letter writers – or at least notify them that they no longer have anything to fear. If the innkeeper will give me the addresses ...”

  “That would probably be best,” said the bailiff. He sent the letters a long glance. He would probably have liked to read them but with such magnanimous people as the Paladins, he did not want to be so mean.

  “I’m absolutely convinced that we now know who’s committed the crime,” said the bailiff, hiding his curiosity. “This isn’t the first time that that man is accused of murder. Now we have him!”

  “Thank you for your brilliant ability to solve cases, Mr. bailiff,” said Cecilie kindly. “If you feel so inclined, do come by at Gabrielshus.”

  “I’d be most pleased to do so,” said the bailiff, flattered.

  Cecilie, who knew one or two things about flattering people, said dutifully, “It’s not very often that one meets a public officer with such discretion and tact. Goodbye!”

  When they came out, Jessica was trembling so much that she could not get on the horse. Alexander helped her. When she was on the horse, she was sobbing her heart out.

  “We know how you feel,” said Alexander. “We feel exactly like you on the inside. Tomorrow I’ll be off to Copenhagen to tell Tancred that he’s now free of his burden. I’d prefer to tell him myself of my acquaintance with Hans Barth and what you girls have done this evening.”

  “Well, well,” smiled Cecilie when they began their ride to Gabrielshus. “It’s ages since I was last called a girl! But it’s Jessica more than anybody else who deserves the honour. You thought very clearly this evening.”

  “I believe that one is capable of unbelievable things for the man one loves the most.”

  “Yes,” said Cecilie, meeting Alexander’s glance in the darkness. “Absolutely!”

  Alexander said, “The bailiff has promised to go to Hans Barth’s place to see what’s there. Maybe Tancred will get back some of what he’s paid him. The valuables, at any rate.”

  He whispered something to Cecilie, who said, “Come, Jessica!”

  Alexander stopped his horse while the other two rode on. They were now a far distance from the inn, out in the open countryside.

  Cecilie explained, “Alexander felt a bit unwell. Seeing Hans Barth again and all those horrible memories they triggered was too much for him. It was a horrible sight, wasn’t it. He’ll be back soon.”

  Then it was true after all! But the night wind brushed away all horrible thoughts. She was exceptionally happy now. She had helped to save Tancred – and she had found her own inner strength. She, the shy and hesitant Jessica, had fought like a lioness for her beloved. Without fear!

  Chapter 13

  Once Tancred let go of his anxiety and despair, he was back to his old self: Jolly, lively and happy. They never got to know what Alexander had spoken to his son about – how much he had said – but confidence between father and son was restored. Cecilie could have wept with happiness.

  Tancred kept on pestering his parents to hasten the wedding plans because he could wait no longer. Besides, he would never dream of touching Jessica until they were legally declared man and wife. So Jessica awaited The Big Moment, touched and with patience.

  Cecilie wanted her whole family home for the wedding, so it took time to organise everything. Now they were to celebrate! Gabriella and Kaleb’s wedding had been very modest, just the way they wanted it to be. Now Cecilie wanted a good party for the only child they had left.

  Of course, Gabriella and Kaleb came along with their foster daughter, Elin. It did Cecilie so much good to see her daughter so happy. And Tancred had to confess that Kaleb was not so stupid after all!

  Tarald and Yrja also turned up, and Mattias, who had recently visited Denmark, returned once more. Grandma Liv was there as well as her brother, Are; the two oldest members of the clan. Are’s family joined them too: Brand, their son and his wife, Matilda and their grown-up son, Andreas.

  As a matter of fact, they were all gathered.

  Except one: Tarjei’s son, Mikael, because nobody in the world knew where he was.

  On Alexander’s side, his sister Ursula, his only relative, attended.

  Jessica tried to get hold of Stella Holzenstern, but she had still not turned up. They thought that she was in the Netherlands because she had sent a letter to the farmer asking him to send her some money.

  Jessica explained that she was actually quite relieved. Although Stella was her only, very distant relative, they had never had anything in common. Stella’s presence always used to make her feel very ill at ease – as if the beautiful wax doll did not like her. Ursula had spent the whole afternoon speaking to a most fantastic man from Norway – he was well-educated, cultivated and warm. When it finally dawned on her that he was Kaleb, the “mine worker,” as she used to call him, she was speechless – and that took a lot of doing!

  But she was magnanimous enough to ask for his forgiveness and embrace him.

  It was a splendid, even lavish, wedding. Many other prominent guests were invited: Almost the entire Court, a good many of Tancred’s friends and some of Alexander’s old officer friends. All the windows at Gabrielshus were lit until late into the night.

  “Jessica,” murmured Tancred to his newly-wed wife. She was very beautiful and shy in her happiness. “I want to go to bed. Will you come along with me?” he teased.

  “Yes. Come – let’s run away!”

  Cecilie and Alexander had banned all kinds of stupid ceremonies in the bridal chamber – for instance, that the bridesmaids were to undress the bride and decorate her for the night; that all the wedding guests were to follow them to bed and wish that all their troubles be little ones. The young couple was to have the bridal chamber in peace and quiet!

  So nobody said anything when the bridal couple left. People merely smiled understandingly.

  Wine had been placed on the bedside table. Tancred poured some for them and said “cheers” to his young bride. She noticed that his hand was shaking so much that the wine slopped over.

  She herself was weak in the knees.

  “I’ve waited many years for this,” he murmured.

  “Would it be immodest of me to say the same?” she said, blushing.

  Tancred melted completely. “Have you really, Jessica?”

  “Ever since you stumbled over me in the forest.”

  “Just like me!” he said, surprised.

  He placed the wine glass at the edge of the bedside table so that it fell and all the wine spilled onto the carpet. Jessica wanted to clean it up, but Tancred made her forget it.

  “May I undress you, dearest?” he whispered.

  She nodded solemnly.

  “You’ve seen me without clothes before,” she mumbled while Tancred loosened her bridal dress. “But I’m a lot more attractive to look at now that I’m not covered in porridge.”

  “I’ve yearned so much for you that I’d probably lick the porridge off
just to get close to you. You’re so beautiful, Jessica!” he sighed when everything except the chemise was off.

  “Thank you. But would it upset you if I put on my bridal nightdress? It’s so exquisite that I can’t just let it lie there without using it.”

  “You have my permission to put it on,” he smiled tenderly, putting it on her while she let the shift glide down on the floor. “Now you look like a fairy princess!”

  She wrinkled her nose slightly. “I don’t think fairy princesses are terribly desirable. And I want to be that just now, dangerous and desirable!”

  They both laughed.

  “Well, you are,” he said. “Irresistible!”

  They laughed to hide how intensely excited, insecure and awkward they were.

  “Tancred, will you put out the candle?”

  In the darkness, both groped more excitedly to get their clothes off. Then she lay in his arms with his hot lips against hers.

  “Oh, gosh, Jessica! I love you so!” he moaned. “At last you’re mine. Mine!”

  “Tancred. Please be sweet towards me. Please be gentle! I think I’m a bit scared after all.”

  “I’ll ... try,” he stuttered while his teeth rattled. “But I don’t think I can wait. Oh, Jessica, I can’t!”

  The last words were said like a cry for help.

  Tancred sat on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands – an image of extreme shame and despair.

  “I don’t seem to be able to do anything right,” he complained with an intense groan. “I’ll die of shame!”

  Jessica caressed his naked back. She found it hard to suppress a smile.

  “A whole second wasn’t a bad start, my beloved,” she said tenderly. “Tomorrow it will be two seconds I’m sure!”

  “Yes,” he said bitterly, but she could hear that his sense of humour was getting the upper hand. “Perhaps fourteen days from now, you’ll no longer be a virgin. Jessica, I’m a fiasco no matter what I do!”

  “Not at all, Tancred! Don’t you understand that it was a compliment to me? That you couldn’t control yourself...”

  Tancred brightened up a bit. “But why control your desire until tomorrow night?”