by Ellin Carsta
“I heard that Bernhard von Harvehorst and the archbishop were at odds,” Linhardt said. Some of the other men murmured in agreement.
“I heard that, too,” Georg said.
“Where did you hear that from?” Johannes said.
“I think all of us heard that,” Anderlin said, looking around. “Isn’t that true?”
Everyone nodded.
“This gives me all the more reason to believe there is a conspiracy,” Johannes concluded. “That quarrel was settled several weeks ago. The archbishop even had the wisdom to finally take Bernhard von Harvehorst’s point of view.”
This was evidently news to the guards.
“Tell me, how did you learn of this rumor of a quarrel between the two men?” Johannes asked.
Finally, Georg spoke. “I heard it firsthand, my lord, as I was on guard duty in the study that day. Wolfker and Niclaus were there as well as another guard, whose name I do not know.”
“That’s true. I’m Wolfker, my lord, and even though we weren’t trying to eavesdrop, they were yelling so loudly that everyone in the building must have heard them.” Wolfker gestured to the man next to him. “And later when we talked about it, we were amazed at how fierce the quarrel was.” The guard next to him nodded.
“I understand. What happened next?”
“Bernhard von Harvehorst stormed out in a rage,” Georg answered.
“When was that?”
“About two weeks ago, my lord.”
“Did Bernhard von Harvehorst ever return to the archbishop’s residence after that?”
“Yes. Exactly three days ago I saw him there,” another guard said.
“Your name?”
“Wilhelm, my lord.”
“Good, Wilhelm. What did you observe?”
“Bernhard von Harvehorst arrived, and I informed the archbishop. He received the visitor immediately.”
“And what was your impression of this meeting?”
“It wasn’t anything unusual, my lord.”
“Did they fight?”
“No, my lord, they didn’t fight. At least, I didn’t hear anything. And when von Harvehorst left, he seemed quite satisfied.”
“This confirms what the archbishop told me, namely that the dispute was settled weeks ago. Now there is the important matter of von Harvehorst’s housekeeper, Duretta. Frankly, I’m afraid that she and Christopeit could be in on it.”
“Why?” Anderlin asked.
“Well, yesterday I returned to von Harvehorst’s house and it was completely empty, though I explicitly told the housekeeper to stay there.”
“What can we do, my lord?” Linhardt asked.
“We must find the people who saw the deceased last, namely Duretta and Christopeit. Take to the streets of Cologne. Ask around, and listen to what people are saying at the market, at the inns, and in the pubs.” Johannes thought for second. “And announce to all that there is a reward of twenty pieces of silver for anyone who brings me one or both of them.”
The men traded looks. “Does that go for us, too, my lord? Or just for the citizens of Cologne?”
“For everyone. Bring them to me here, at my house. And if anything happens that seems unusual to you, inform me immediately. Do you understand?”
The guards nodded.
“Good. Now go and do your duty.”
The men set off. Johannes closed the door behind them, then leaned against it. The tasks ahead would undoubtedly prove to be quite challenging, and he wanted to finish them as quickly as possible. He walked into the kitchen, picked up a mug, and filled it with beer. He plopped onto the bench and took a big slug.
Hans walked in. “Are they gone?”
“Yes, Hans, they are. There are some mugs left over in the dining room.”
“I’ll take care of it, my lord. I’ll be the maid today.” He laughed as he scrutinized his master. “You’re worried, my lord.”
“You’re right about that,” Johannes agreed. “I have to solve two murders, and I don’t have the slightest idea who did it or why.”
“May I?” Hans pointed to the beer.
“Help yourself.”
Hans took a mug, filled it, and placed it on the table. Then he sat on the bench across from his employer.
“I’m only a simple servant,” Hans said. “You’re a lawyer, a well-educated man.” He took a sip. “Certainly I can’t be of much help to you. But I can say with confidence that if there’s one thing I know, it’s people. If someone kills a vicar and a nobleman, he must have a very good reason.”
“And what might that be?”
Hans shrugged. “That I don’t know. But certainly someone with such a good reason wouldn’t commit the murders himself.”
“Why not?”
“Because the killer would most likely be a high lord whose face people would recognize.”
Johannes scratched his chin, like he always did when deep in thought. “Go on.”
“What did the vicar and von Harvehorst have in common?”
“I’d only had a few meetings with von Harvehorst, and our conversations were always focused on contracts, agreements, and negotiations. I knew the vicar better. He was different than the archbishop. He wasn’t a world leader, just a simple clergyman. His religious beliefs guided his actions. The archbishop’s power was unimportant to him. Indeed, the vicar made every effort to fight for Friedrich’s spiritual salvation, to stand by him and counsel him so that the archbishop could devote himself to his official duties.”
“So both men were, in their own ways, very important to the archbishop,” Hans deduced.
“That’s correct.”
The two sat in silence for a moment.
“The vicar also wanted to accompany the archbishop on his journey to Rome,” Johannes continued. “Friedrich counted on their opinions.” Suddenly he sat straight up.
“What just occurred to you, my lord?”
“Since both of them are no longer with us, the archbishop will have to replace them. The question is, with whom? Who would travel with the archbishop in their stead?”
Hans held up his mug. “It was a pleasure to help you figure things out, sir.” He took a big slurp.
“You may be a servant, but you sure don’t act like one, Hans.”
“Everything I know I learned from you, my lord.”
“First thing tomorrow morning, I’ll find out who is riding with the archbishop.”
“And what will you do, my lord, if you recognize this person?”
“I don’t know yet. I need to sleep on it. Tomorrow I’ll have an answer.” He smiled confidently. “Yes, then I’ll know the answer.”
They both drank a second beer together before Johannes decided that was quite enough and proceeded to his bedchamber. Thoughts whirled about in his head. At first he pondered the crimes, but then he began to think about Madlen. Normally he would discuss these kinds of things with her, not with Hans. Johannes and Madlen’s conversation would be much longer, more in depth and intense, the type of conversation that made him look deep into his soul. Madlen always helped him to think things through in a logical way. He needed her. He missed her with every breath he took.
He hoped that Leopold had delivered the letter to his wife in which he tried to explain why he couldn’t leave Cologne—not yet anyway. If he solved the murders, there would be no reason to remain in Cologne any longer. He inhaled deeply then exhaled. Then he could be with Madlen again. He wondered whether she’d be cross with him. Would she feel betrayed because Leopold had been dispatched to revive the family business? A feeling of despair swept over him at the thought of Madlen being upset without him. He rolled onto his side.
But the thoughts didn’t cease their whirling. How was his mother? Did she have the strength to get through all of this? She’d looked terribly wan when he’d seen her last. Guilt and anxiety weighed heavily upon his very soul. Had he behaved properly when he’d submitted to the archbishop’s wishes? Or should he have insisted on staying with h
is family in Worms? If he had done so, the archbishop would have undoubtedly refused to rescue his family from the financial situation his father had created, despite the fact that Johannes had been the longest-serving legal counselor the archbishop had ever had. No. He had this one opportunity to make things right. Though he tried to calm himself with this thought, it was several hours before he fell into a fitful, dreamless sleep.
Johannes had just finished eating breakfast when someone knocked on the front door. He opened it to find Linhardt standing there.
“God bless you, my lord. The housekeeper has been found. But no one will be able to claim the reward.”
“What happened?”
“Please, my lord, come with me and see for yourself. They’ve just pulled her in from the river. It must have been one of the cargo ships that had been sailing close to shore.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Her hands and feet were bound. One of the ships must have pushed against the corpse and torn the rope which had been tied around a rock to keep her body submerged. It’s not a pretty sight, my lord.”
“I’m coming.” Johannes didn’t stop to put on his coat. The days were getting warmer, always a reason to rejoice. Warm weather meant there would be crops growing in the fields, bringing about new life. But this was evidently not the case in Cologne. People seemed to be dying faster here than they could be buried.
With a grim expression on his face, Johannes walked down to the harbor with Linhardt. A throng of people had formed, and Johannes’s bad mood got even worse.
“Let us through,” he demanded irritably as he and Linhardt made their way through the crowd. When they reached the corpse, Johannes only glanced at it briefly.
“Who found her?”
A man walked over to him. “That would be us, my lord,” he said, gesturing to the man standing next to him. “The trading vessel there in front and another boat got too close to each other. They narrowly avoided a collision, which is why the cargo ship was sailing closer to the shore. The captain thought he felt a slight impact on the ship’s hull, but when he looked he didn’t see anything.”
“Where’s the captain now?”
“On his ship.” The man nodded his head in the ship’s direction. “He boarded again after we recovered the corpse. It seems he doesn’t have much of a stomach for this kind of thing.”
That was easy for Johannes to understand, since the swollen corpse with its bound arms and legs was anything but a pretty sight.
“What happened after the ships almost collided? Did the captain tell you he thought he heard something bump against his hull?”
“No, my lord. That wasn’t necessary. The ship hadn’t moored yet when we saw the corpse floating on the surface. We rowed over in our fishing boat and pulled her out.”
Suddenly a terrible scream cut through the air. “Duretta!”
Johannes turned toward a distraught woman as she fell to the ground next to the deceased. She screamed once more, then bent over the corpse and began to wail.
Everybody took a step back.
“Wait here. I would like to speak with you again,” Johannes said to the fisherman. He walked over to the woman. She was still on the ground, crying inconsolably.
“Come on.” He stretched out his hand to her, but she didn’t react. He bent down and took a hold of her shoulders so that he could pull her up. As he did so, he got a closer look at the deceased. He hesitated.
Johannes let go of the woman’s shoulders and squatted down to get a better look at the corpse’s face. “But—” He broke off. “Come on,” he ordered in a sterner tone. “Stand up.” He rose and pulled the woman up with him. “Who are you, my lady?”
The woman wiped her tearstained cheeks with the back of her hand. “My name is Margret, my lord. Duretta was my sister.”
“Duretta? You’re saying the deceased here is Duretta?”
“Yes, my lord.” The woman looked at him in a daze.
“And who did your sister serve?”
“She was Bernhard von Harvehorst’s housekeeper, my lord.”
Johannes looked at the people around him. “Which one of you fine citizens knows this woman?”
A few people hesitantly raised their hands. Johannes pointed to a woman standing in front, whose clothing had seen better days. “You there! Step forward. Which of these women do you know by name?”
“Both of them, my lord,” she said as she stepped forward.
“From where?”
“Margret doesn’t live very far from our house. She works for some spice merchants. Her son and mine worked together as carpenter apprentices.” She looked at the deceased. “And I know Duretta, too.” She paused. “I don’t know from where, but I recognize her nevertheless.”
Johannes nodded and motioned for her to step back. “You there!” He pointed at a tall, lanky man. “Do you know her?”
“I know Duretta because my lord and Bernhard von Harvehorst worked together. I ate some meals in the servants’ quarters with her, while I awaited my master.”
More people stepped forward to be questioned, but their answers were always the same. Some knew one sister, others knew them both. All of them agreed that the dead woman on the ground was Duretta, Bernhard von Harvehorst’s longtime housekeeper.
“You there. Bring the body to the morgue and make sure that this woman gets a proper burial.”
“Who should we say will pay for this?” asked the man.
“Tell him that the attorney Johannes Goldmann will ensure that he gets his money.”
“Yes, my lord.”
Johannes turned to Margret. “Tell me, when was the last time you saw your sister?”
“I believe it was seven, no, about eight days ago. My youngest are twins. They were sick. I was barely able to do my work. Usually we’d see each other at the market, but because I had to stay home, Duretta and I hadn’t seen each other much lately.”
“Didn’t your sister watch your children just the other night?”
“Watch my children? Of course not. How could she have done that?”
“All right. Thank you.” He took one last glance at the deceased’s face and her battered body. Her hands and feet were still bound, and another rope hung loosely from her ankle.
“Thank you for taking on the cost of my sister’s burial,” Margret said, pulling him out of his thoughts.
He nodded. “Go, take care of your children. And try to forget this image of your sister before it burns forever in your mind.”
“It’s too late for that,” she responded bitterly. She took one last look at her sister then walked away.
Johannes waved over the fisherman he’d spoken with earlier.
“Should I retrieve the captain so he can confirm what I said?”
“Later, if it becomes necessary.” Johannes turned around. He pointed toward the boats. “Is one of those yours?”
“Yes, my lord. That one in front.”
“Bring me to the place where you found the body.”
“Yes, my lord.” The fisherman turned without another word and Johannes followed him. As they climbed into the boat, from the corner of his eye Johannes saw several men wrap the body in a sheet, lift it, and carry it away. He tried to stay standing but eventually sat down when the fisherman picked up the oars and started rowing with strong sweeping movements. The boat glided smoothly through the water. Johannes tried to calm his nerves. What was he expecting to find?
“How much farther?”
“Not much farther, my lord.” The man pointed. “Right there, where the Rhine widens.” He took a couple more strokes, then pulled the oars out of the water and let the boat drift. “It’s around here somewhere.”
Johannes stared down into the dark water. “How deep is it here?”
“Not so deep as in the middle. A loaded ship wouldn’t normally sail here.”
“So whoever sunk the corpse wouldn’t have been in a ship with a deep draft.”
“I would agree
with that, yes.”
“And it’s far enough from the harbor that tugboats wouldn’t be able to come here, either?”
“Yes, my lord, that is correct.”
“The murderer could have been pretty sure that the corpse wouldn’t resurface. He must be quite familiar with the Rhine.”
“I hope I’m not leading you astray by saying this, but if I wanted to get rid of a corpse, I would dump it here.”
Johannes took another look around. “Me, too.” He thought of something. “Give me one oar and you take the other. Let’s put them in the water and see whether we bump into anything.”
“But—”
“Just do it.” He looked over at the dock where some people were standing. “You there!” he called out. “We need more boats here.” Johannes waved to get their attention. “There’s a reward!”
Only then did the people seem to take notice. Immediately several men jumped in a boat and rowed over.
“What kind of reward, my lord?”
“That depends on what we find. If it is what I think it is, the archbishop will no doubt be quite generous.”
The fisherman needed only a second to respond to Johannes’s offer. He began to pull his oar deeply through the water.
“Nothing here. Let’s try farther out,” the fisherman said as he noticed other boats heading toward them.
“You know the Rhine better than I do,” Johannes said, returning his oar.
The fisherman rowed a bit farther, then handed one of the oars back to Johannes. Together they searched the water. When the other men reached them, Johannes explained what they needed to do. At first they stayed close together, but soon they spread out in a large circle. Johannes couldn’t say for how many hours they searched. He was just about to give up when somebody cried out.
“Found something!” A man waved his arm around excitedly.
“Row me over there,” Johannes ordered the fisherman, who looked somewhat disappointed.
“Here, my lord.” The other man pulled the oar through the water until he met resistance.