Grantville Gazette Volume 27

by edited by Paula Goodlett

  "Two thousand USE dollars, in Johnnies." Katharina's face screwed up. "Tat'yana, where would Papa get all that money?"

  Tat'yana was distracted from her line of questioning by Katharina's question. She sat Katharina at the kitchen table while she assembled something to eat and drink. Then she sat opposite. If Katharina thought her father having two thousand dollars was unusual, then that made him a person of interest. "I think we need to learn more about your papa."

  * * *

  To learn more about Katharina's father's activities they first had to find out where he was staying. Together they set out to do the rounds of Tat'yana's informers. On the street corner near where Katharina had been attacked they struck pay dirt with Maria Anna, an orphaned girl of about ten years, and Michael, her younger brother .

  "The guy Viktor's man hit?" Maria Anna asked. "Sure. He disappeared into that boarding house." She pointed.

  Tat'yana followed Maria Anna's pointing arm. The property in question was one of a line of attached houses that were barely a room and a corridor wide and five stories high. She passed the girl some coins. "I'd like to know where he works, and who his friends are."

  Maria Anna hid the money under her clothes and nodded. "Usual rates?"

  "Usual rates," Tat'yana confirmed.

  * * *

  Katharina stared out the window overlooking the street below. It had been three days since Maria Anna had offered to discover where her father worked and she was starting to worry about the young girl and her brother's safety. In a place the size of a Stralsund it shouldn't have taken this long. Then she saw what she'd been watching the street for.

  A few minutes later Maria Anna was shown into Viktor's apartment. Katharina dragged her in and hugged her, such was her relief at seeing her alive and well. "It's been so long I was starting to worry," she told her.

  Maria Anna struggled out of Katharina's arms. "For the last few days, except for when he visited the apothecary, he's been hiding out in his room. She grinned for a moment. "The word on the street is your man broke his jaw and half of his teeth and he's been taking opium to deaden the pain."

  Katharina's grin matched Maria Anna's. She was pleased to hear about her father's misfortune. "But you do know where he works?"

  "One of Herr Bluth's warehouses by the northwest wall," Maria Anna said. "The damaged ones," she added for good measure.

  Katharina shuddered. She didn't know Stralsund very well, but she did know the buildings Maria Anna was talking about. The warehouses had been damaged during the siege of Stralsund some six years ago and the landlord was taking his time fixing them. She'd appreciated his tardiness when she first arrived in Stralsund, as the rubble of one of those warehouses was where she'd lived those first few days before she fell in with Viktor. The realization that she could so easily have been discovered by her father terrified her. Katharina took a few coins from the petty cash tin and wrote up the transaction before passing some of them to Maria Anna. "Let's go."

  Five minutes later they joined Maria Anna's brother Michael where he was keeping an eye on the warehouse. She studied the building. It looked as if a strong wind would knock it over. "Do you have any idea what they're doing in there?" She asked.

  "No," Maria Anna said.

  "They aren't in there at the moment if you want to take a look," Michael suggested.

  "I want to," Katharina said. "Let's hurry while there's nobody around."

  The three ran across the street and tried to peek through the windows, but they were too dirty to see anything. There was no way in at the front so they ran around to try the back of the warehouse. There they struck lucky. The iron security bars over the windows were in a sad state of repair, and the glass in one window had been replaced with a couple of planks of wood. With an effort Katharina managed to dislodge the boards, but the gap between the damaged iron security bars was too narrow for her. "Michael, could you climb through and open one of the doors?" she asked.

  Michael put up his hands to judge the size of the gap between the bars and nodded. With the assistance of the two girls he managed to squeeze his tiny frame between the bars and disappeared into the warehouse. Seconds later the back door swung open.

  The ground floor of the warehouse was one big open space with two rows of heavy timber columns supporting the upper floor. There was just enough light for Katharina to see a line of small white blobs near the front of the warehouse. She slowly felt her way around the mounds of full sacks and barrels. It was too dark to read anything on the barrels, but after feeling the sacks she felt reasonably sure they contained some kind of grain. As she neared the front of the warehouse she realized the white blobs were small rectangles of paper hanging on a line. She made her way up to them and plucked one from the line and examined it.

  "They're coming back," Michael called from near the window.

  Katharina turned to try and find the door they'd entered by, but it was lost in the dark. She took another piece of paper and started Michael and Marina Anna toward the back door. "We need to get word to Viktor. No matter what, as soon as you get outside make for Viktor's warehouse as fast as you can. He should be there with the rest of his people." She handed them each one of the papers. "Show him that."

  They hurried to the back of the warehouse, and ran for the door. Marina Anna was first. She slid the bolt and hauled it open.

  "Some kids in the warehouse. Grab them," someone yelled from behind them. Katharina spared one glance behind her before she was last through the door. She wasted a few seconds looking for something to jam the door closed, but with nothing obvious to hand she turned and ran.

  Her skirts flapping against her legs made running hard. In front of her she could see Maria Anna disappear around a corner while Michael was already out of sight. Suddenly a heavy weight landed on her, bringing her crashing to the ground.

  "Caught you, you little brat."

  * * *

  Michael hammered at the door to Viktor's warehouse. Johann Hering opened the door and Michael was past him in a flash. "Herr Viktor, Katharina's in trouble," he cried as he ran toward the group sitting around a table.

  Boris caught the excited Michael before he crashed into the table. "What do you mean, Katharina's in trouble?"

  With Boris supporting him Michael held out the piece of paper Katharina had handed him. "We were looking inside the warehouse where her father works when they came back. She told me to give you this."

  Viktor took the piece of paper from Michael and looked at both sides before passing it on to Tat'yana. "It's Michael, isn't it?" he asked. At Michael's surprised nod he continued. "Where is this warehouse?"

  Michael pointed in the general direction he'd come from. "It's one of Herr Bluth's."

  "We'll want something to force the doors." Johann pointed to a box of weapons they'd looked at earlier. "Do you have any solid slugs for those?"

  Boris gestured toward some barrels in one corner. Johann hurried over to it and returned with a couple of cardboard boxes of cartridges. He traded one box for the shotgun Boris was holding out to him and the pair of them loaded the pump-action shotguns and shoveled a couple of handfuls of cartridges into the pockets of their coats. Together they worked the slides of their weapons. "Let's go," Johann said.

  Viktor turned to Michael. "Lead the way."

  The sight of Viktor and two armed men running down the street drew an interested crowd that started to follow them. He'd been their neighbor long enough that they knew someone was in deep trouble and nobody wanted to miss the action.

  * * *

  Katharina was hauled to her feet and dragged back into the warehouse. "I caught one," Hans Klinkow said.

  A hand grabbed her hair and twisted her head up. "Well, if it isn't my ungrateful daughter, and without her protector."

  Katharina wanted to spit in her father's face, but her mouth was dry. She settled for staring at the damage Johann had done to his mouth. Where once there had been a full set of front teeth there were now broken stumps.


  "What do we do with her?" Hans asked.

  "I know what I'd like to do with her," Katharina's father said.

  "Just a minute." The group's leader, Bartholomäus Scheele, pointed at Katharina. "I think I've seen her walking around with Viktor's woman."

  Hans released his hold on Katharina hastily. "She's one of Viktor's people?"

  Johannes Hagemeister kept his firm hold on his daughter. "Who is Viktor and why are you so worried about him? I tell you, this is just my daughter, and her protector's nothing but a common soldier."

  "Johann Hering was a soldier, now he works for Viktor," Katharina said loud enough for everyone to hear. Bartholomäus, Hans and Peter Bluth stared at Katharina. At any other time the looks of horror on their faces would have been humorous.

  Boom! Boom!

  The shotgun blasts reverberated through the warehouse. Katharina took advantage of her father's slackened hold to slam her head into his damaged jaw. There was a grunt of pain and she was free. She dived for the safety of the shadows before turning to see what was happening. She saw three men step through the door followed by a woman.

  "Katharina, are you okay?" Viktor demanded.

  "Yes," she called.

  "Come to me, but stay out of the line of fire," Tat'yana called.

  "This is all just a misunderstanding, Viktor. We found her in our warehouse and Hans chased her down. We didn't know she was one of your people," Bartholomäus pleaded.

  "Stay where you are," Viktor commanded. "Tat'yana, find something to tie them up with."

  Katharina followed Tat'yana and together they collected the rest of the line that the papers had been pinned to and returned to Viktor.

  "Now, Viktor, there is no need to be like this." Bartholomäus walked toward Viktor. "There has been a simple misunderstanding. Why don't you take the child and leave and we'll forget that she was trespassing in my warehouse."

  Viktor lifted a finger and Boris fired once, raising dust when the solid slug hit the floor just in front of Bartholomäus.

  He jumped back. "Viktor, all this shooting will attract attention."

  Viktor smiled. "I don't mind."

  "That's not fair, Viktor. We haven't done anything to you," Bartholomäus protested.

  "Not done anything to me?" Viktor roared. He waved the paper Michael had given him. "You are forging USE bank bills and you can say that? Viktor trusts the USE paper money."

  Katharina whistled to herself. She'd been around Viktor just long enough to know that he only slipped into referring to himself like that when he was very emotional. She edged up beside Tat'yana who was securing her father. "Will he kill them?" she whispered.

  "No, I think he's planning something much worse," Tat'yana whispered back.

  Katharina blinked in surprise. What could be worse than being killed? She trailed behind Tat'yana watching how she secured the prisoners.

  "Soldiers coming," Michael called from the door.

  "I'll talk to them," Johann offered. "What do you want me to say?"

  Viktor passed him the forged Johnnie. "Show their officer that and ask them to send a runner for their commander."

  Bartholomäus Scheele paled. "Now Viktor, you don't really mean to turn me over to the authorities? Think of what it'll do for your reputation."

  "It can't be anything but good for Viktor's reputation to discover a den of forgers and turn them over to the authorities," Boris said conversationally.

  * * *

  Katharina was a little frightened being in the Swedish officer's office, but with Viktor, Boris, Johann, and Tat'yana there as well she tried to stay calm. She glanced across to Maria Anna and Michael. The two of them had been scrubbed to within an inch of their lives and were now dressed in new clothes. Both of them were sucking lemon drops Tat'yana had given them just before they entered the office.

  Colonel Axel Lillie smiled across to Maria Anna and her brother. "The people who were supposed to be caring for you have been dealt with. Until you are old enough to be apprenticed out you will both live in my household. For now my wife wishes to talk to you." He turned to a waiting soldier. "Sergeant, Christina is waiting in her sitting room. Please take the children to her."

  As Maria Anna and Michael followed the sergeant out of the office Katharina felt the colonel's eyes settle on her. She snuggled closer to Tat'yana. Maria Anna and her brother were welcome to the colonel's protection. It was the least he could do considering what catching a forgery ring would do for his career, but she didn't want that. She had Tat'yana and Viktor.

  "Your father is facing very serious charges. However, if I put in a good word for him . . ."

  Katharina reared back into Tat'yana in horror. Surely her father couldn't escape justice. She felt Tat'yana's arm creep around her shoulder. "That won't be necessary," Tat'yana said.

  Colonel Lillie nodded. "I think I understand. Very well, we'll let justice take its course. That leaves the matter of a suitable reward, young lady. I make the same offer to you as I did the other two, a good home while you are trained for a job."

  Katharina shook her head. "Thank you, but Tat'yana's promised we can learn Latin together."

  Colonel Lillie smiled. "Then I still owe you a reward."

  "Just make sure I never have to see my father again," Katharina said.

  "That I can promise you," Colonel Lillie said. "Let us retire to the dining room where Lieutenant-colonel Wachtmeister has laid out everything we discovered in Herr Bluth's warehouse."

  * * *

  Viktor approached the dining room table. There were stacks of money on it. More correctly, there were stacks of forged USE Johnnies on it. Carefully laid out in rows were a number of printing plates. "Why so many printing plates?"

  "They need plates for each color," Johann suggested.

  "Yes, but they should only need three plates: black for the front, green for the back, and another one for the seal and serial number on the green side." Viktor pointed to the table. "There are too many plates."

  "That's because they have duplicate plates, Herr Viktor," Lieutenant-colonel Erik Wachtmeister explained.

  "Duplicate plates?" Viktor picked up two of the plates and compared the fine engraving. "Who could afford so skilled an engraver?"

  "It is worse than you think," Colonel Lillie said. "Under questioning Bartholomäus Scheele has claimed that someone sold him something called a franchise to print USE dollars in Pomerania. For a one-time fee he received training and all the equipment he needed to convert USE dollar bills into twenty-dollar bills."

  "Someone sold Bartholomäus all of these engraved plates?" Viktor demanded.

  "That's what he says, and we have no reason to doubt him," Colonel Lillie said.

  "Do you know who sold him this franchise?" Viktor asked.

  "He claims that he has no idea who it was," Lieutenant-colonel Wachtmeister said.

  "What about ink and paper? Where does he get them?" Johann asked.

  "The paper they get by using good condition lower denomination USE bills and bleaching them. The ink . . ." Colonel Lillie paused. "I understand it's special ink, not easily obtained."

  "So where do they get more when they use up what they started with?" Johann asked. "

  Colonel Lillie smiled grimly and turned to his Lieutenant. "Erik, it appears our prisoners have been holding back some information, please see that they reveal who their ink supplier is."

  * * *

  From the safety of Tat'yana's arms Katharina smiled. Everyone knew what that meant. Her father and his colleagues were going to be tortured until they revealed the information the Swedish officer wanted.

  She hoped her father didn't know anything.

  And that the torturer didn't believe him.

  * * *

  McAdams' Blue Cheese Mine

  Written by Terry Howard

  Grantville, late summer 1635

  James Lamont, formerly of MacKay's company, looked at the curb and sidewalk outside the grocery store with a grimace and
swallowed. Step up, or walk thirty feet to the driveway, then thirty more back to the door?

  "Okay, James," he muttered to himself, "Set y'cane. Now brace y'self, lift y' good leg and 'get-er-done.' The pain isna' as bad as all that." James clamped his jaw tight, closed his eyes, climbed the curb to the sidewalk. Then he stood there for half a minute before he dared to open his mouth. "Okay. I'm lyin'. Yon pain is as bad as all that. But, t'doctor says ye hav' to walk for it t'get better." When he could open his eyes he limped into the grocery store.

  "That wasna as bad as last time," James tried to convince himself. It hurt like hell to walk. It also hurt just to sit. The pain woke him up unless he got so drunk he passed out. Then when he woke up the hangover competed with the pain in his hip and leg. Still, better to take a walk and endure the agony rather than stay home and put up with the pain and the boredom.

  Not that he found the grocery store all that interesting. James usually bought bread and the little meat he ate, already cooked at the open-air market in the park near the swimming pool, because he didn't have to walk as far. He'd been told the market started before the Ring of Fire as a "farmer's market," and some up-timers still called it that. Now, though, a bit of anything might sell there, from garden produce to hot food—James favored the dumplings off one of the carts—to any used clothes someone wanted to sell.

  The butcher filled the back wall of the grocery; produce the left, and the bakery the right. The front of the grocery store held the check-out counters. The center was split between aisles of shelves and the service counter, with its barrels, and bags of the bulk goods. Customers' purchases were measured, weighed or counted out into the containers they brought with them, or they bought a container off a shelf.

  Boredom turned his thoughts to his home in Scotland—which he hadn't seen in years—and the beauty of the moors in the springtime. Then his thoughts turned to his grandame's table. He'd buried her before he left home, but his mind could still smell the bread baking on her hearth. This left him craving the tastes of home. The grocery store held the answer to one of those cravings.