Death and the Devil

by Frank Schätzing

  “Was easy,” said Richmodis quietly.

  “Yes.” Jaspar’s face was filled with remorse. “Stupid of me. Which reminds me, I really ought to go back and do something about the body. You never know, my housekeeper might take it into her head to get better and do some tidying up. I can already hear her shrieks rousing all the neighbors. And with these women’s imagination the next thing you’ll hear will be: Jaspar Rodenkirchen’s put the evil eye on his servant.”

  “Then be quick about it,” said Goddert.

  “I can’t, you dimwit.”

  “Huh! Coward. I’ll go.” He emptied his mug and struck the table with his fist.

  Jaspar looked at him in exasperation. “And what would be the point of that? Do you always think with your belly? What’s the first place the murderer will look for us? He might imagine we’re stupid enough to meet at my place, but I certainly don’t intend to prove him right.” He thought for a moment. “Perhaps he’ll go to Kuno’s house first. If Daniel’s told him everything, he’ll be in danger as much as we are. I would have suggested we hide in my church, but I’m afraid Kuno wouldn’t make it that far. Like it or not, we’ve got to stay here.”

  “We could carry him,” suggested Jacob.

  “Not even if we carry him.”

  “It would be pointless anyway,” said Richmodis. “If he knows your house, he’ll know your church.”

  “True. Have you any weapons in the house, Goddert?”

  Goddert started. “You mean to fight?” he asked, horrified.

  “I might have to, mean to or not. Or Jacob might, or Richmodis. Or”—Jaspar bared his teeth in a fearsome grin—“you might! Coward indeed!”

  “Just the usual, the armor and two spears.”

  “No sword?”

  “Yes,” said Richmodis. “We’ve got one. It’s under the chest by the window. We took it off Daniel.”

  “Well, that’s something at least.”

  “No, it’s nothing. How do you think you’re going to fight such a superior opponent?” asked Goddert.

  “Didn’t Richmodis put up a fight?” asked Jacob angrily.

  Jaspar grinned. “Listen to our fox bark, Goddert. Do you mean to do nothing to save your fat skin? Has the woad got to your brain, that you’ve forgotten how to fight? Even Abelard could handle a sword, and he was a cleric.”

  “Abelard was a philanderer. He became a cleric when his philandering was cut off.”

  “Go on, joke about it. He was still more of a man than fat Goddert who won’t fight to save his life. A superior opponent! Perhaps that’s what David should have said when the Philistines pitched their camp in Ephesdammim. Six cubits and a span was Goliath’s height, and he had a helmet of brass on his head and was armed with a coat of mail, the weight of which was five thousand shekels of brass. And David? No armor, just five smooth stones and a sling.”

  “That was man against man,” growled Goddert. “Everything was open and aboveboard. The Philistines had no secrets. David knew his opponent, while we’re fighting against a shadow, a phantom with powerful forces behind him.”

  “Yes, yes, Goddert, times have changed. Isn’t the Evil One cunning?” He massaged the bridge of his nose. “But what he does not know is the size of the reception party, if he does in fact find us. They’ve lost sight of Jacob and me. I suspect he’ll be looking for Kuno, first and foremost. He seems to be the only one who really knows something and is clearly prepared to spill the beans. Assuming he wakes up again, that is,” he added, lowering his voice.

  He stood up. “Goddert,” he said in resolute tones, “you go and shut up the house. Make sure the fiend can’t get in anywhere. Bolt and bar everything, as if you were shutting out the whole world. Then he’s welcome to come.”

  Richmodis rested her chin on her hands and gave him a doubtful look. “I saw his eyes,” she said.

  Jaspar frowned. “Uh-huh. And what did they say?”

  “That there are no closed doors for him.” She hesitated. “Apart from one.”

  “Which one?”

  “The one inside him.”

  RHEINGASSE

  “The plan has failed,” said Johann firmly. “We must abandon it.”

  “No!” Matthias replied sharply.

  The argument had been going back and forth for some time now. After Daniel had returned, wounded and scarcely able to stand, they had hastily called a meeting. None of them could get to sleep that night anyway. They agreed to meet in Rheingasse, on the first floor, where it had all begun. Only Blithildis was absent. It was not that she objected to being carried there in her chair at that time of night; she simply could not understand the fuss. For her there was no doubt that everything would go ahead as she had planned.

  Johann, on the other hand, was having more and more doubts.

  “Everything’s getting out of hand,” Theoderich agreed. “When I heard we had a hostage, I thought for a moment Urquhart had things back under control. Now we’re up the creek without a paddle.”

  “We’ve not achieved anything,” said Heinrich von Mainz gloomily, “not a single thing.”

  Matthias leaped up. “That is not true. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. Are you suggesting we give up now, so close to success? We’re almost there.”

  “And what are these great achievements, pray?” asked Johann with bitter scorn.

  “We—”

  “We got rid of Gerhard Morart,” said Theoderich, “that’s all. The rest has been a shambles. It would have been better if Urquhart had simply left the redhead alone.”

  “If he’d left him alone half the city would know by now.” Matthias started to pace up and down angrily.

  “Nobody would have believed a good-for-nothing like that.”

  “That isn’t true. We don’t know what Gerhard whispered to him. We had no choice.”

  “Correct me if my arithmetic is wrong,” said Johann deliberately, “but with the Fox, the dean, and his niece, that’s at least three who represent a danger to us. Plus all those we don’t know about. Each one of them had—still has—plenty of opportunity to hawk their knowledge around the city. Then there’s that Bodo Schuif. The dean let slip something that made him think.”

  “Bodo’s an imbecile,” Theoderich declared.

  “Not enough of an imbecile to dismiss it as the ramblings of a drunken priest. Are we going to kill Bodo as well?”

  “If it’s unavoidable,” said Matthias.

  “But that still wouldn’t solve the problem, Matthias. It’s too late to silence people. We must give up. Go and tell Urquhart to clear out of the city. With any luck that’ll be the end of it. No one knows we were behind the murders. They can’t prove we had anything to do with it and with Urquhart gone there’s no murderer. We must abandon the plan as long as there’s still time.”

  “Abandon it?” Matthias snorted. “The same whining and wailing all the time. What difference would that make? You can’t undo Gerhard’s murder, but you can create the risk they might be able to prove we ordered it. All honor to your high-mindedness, Johann, but in the light of what we have already done, what happens tomorrow is completely irrelevant.”

  “It has nothing to do with high-mindedness. I’m just trying to stop the worst from happening.”

  “The worst has already happened. You can call off the whole thing, but that won’t stop a few morons from running around the city saying the patricians killed Gerhard.”

  Johann started to speak, then breathed out slowly and shook his head.

  “I agree with you,” Matthias assured him. “We can’t let it come to a bloodbath. But we’ve gone too far. There was a point when we could have turned back, but we passed that long ago.”

  “With Gerhard.”

  “Precisely. With Gerhard. Gerhard is dead. There was a witness. Agreed, not everything has gone as planned, but if we give up now, everything will have been in vain. The people will have died in vain. Gerhard will have died in vain.”

  Johann remained silent.
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  Matthias sat down and looked at them one after the other. “I think there is one chance. If we can show that the redhead is a liar and a thief, then people won’t believe those he’s told either. That leaves just one person who’s a real danger to us.”

  “Kuno,” Daniel murmured.

  All eyes turned toward him.

  “You will keep quiet,” growled Johann. “You’ve done enough damage already.”

  Daniel leaned forward. He looked terrible. His face was swollen and partly covered in blue bruises, his nose just a shapeless lump. But the gleam of hatred in his eyes was unchanged.

  “I know what I’ve done,” he said calmly. “Nevertheless, if Matthias goes to see Urquhart, he should impress on him the need to get rid of Kuno.”

  “We’re not going to sacrifice another person just to please you!” Johann shouted. “Once and for all, there have been enough—”

  “That is precisely what we will do,” Matthias interrupted. “For once I agree with Daniel. If Kuno decides to give evidence against us, we really do have a problem, a bloody big problem.”

  “Why should Kuno do that?” asked Heinrich.

  Daniel gave a hoarse laugh. “Why? Because I damn near killed him, that’s why.”

  “As long as I preside over this alliance—” Johann began to say.

  Matthias shot up. “But you no longer preside over it.”

  “I don’t? Who says so?”

  “I do. If there’s anyone to whom we owe responsibility, it’s your mother, Blithildis.”

  “As if that meant anything to you! I wonder now whether you ever believed in our common goal. You’re not doing any of this for my mother—don’t try to fool me—and even less for those who are imprisoned or banned. Everything you’ve done was serving your own interests and your own balance sheet.”

  “And whose interests are served by your sudden withdrawal, your ridiculous scruples?”

  Heinrich von Mainz stood up. “I’m leaving. We’re not going to come to any decision.”

  “No! You stay!” Matthias barked.

  “I will not be—”

  “Sit down!”

  There was an embarrassed silence. Heinrich stared at Matthias, seething with fury. Then he lowered his eyes and sat back down on the gold-embroidered cushion.

  Matthias waited a moment, but no one said anything. Then he went and stood at the farther end of the table, leaning on his knuckles, his eyes fixed on Johann.

  “What we are doing is right,” he insisted. “I’m not looking for a quarrel, Johann. Forgive me if I was lacking in due respect. We’re in a difficult situation and I can understand if some of us feel the pressure of the last few days has been too much. But don’t you agree that we have all come too far together to turn back now? One last time I beg you to vote for our plan, to trust me one last time. I beg you! Tomorrow will be a day of rejoicing, our enemies will wail and gnash their teeth, and no one will be interested in a few nobodies trying to draw attention to themselves by claiming Gerhard was pushed. Tomorrow we’ll have a new world. And nothing will happen to Kuno, I promise. I will just get Urquhart to keep him quiet until it’s all over. As God is my witness, there will be no more killings. Believe me! Believe in our cause, Johann, I beg you. We will triumph. We will triumph.”

  Johann rubbed his eyes and slumped back in his chair. “Where do you think Kuno and that woman will have gone to hide?” he asked.

  “I don’t know. His house? The dean’s? Or perhaps to her house?”

  “Where does she live?”

  “I will find out.”

  “Now? It’s the middle of the night. You’re due to meet Urquhart.”

  Matthias gave a grim smile. “I have found out other things in much shorter time.”

  POWER

  Goddert was sitting by the fire, his chin on his chest, snoring quietly. Beside him was Daniel’s sword. Kuno lay unconscious on the chest between the front and back rooms. They had carefully carried him there because it was the warmest place in the house. Jaspar had managed to staunch the blood, but the young man was in a bad way.

  They held out their hands to the fire, waiting for him to regain consciousness and tell them why the world was so terribly different since Gerhard’s death. Outside, the wind was rattling at the shutters with undiminished violence.

  “Will he pull through?” Jacob asked after a while.

  “Hmm,” said Jaspar.

  Jacob looked up. “What does ‘hmm’ mean?”

  “He’s lost a lot of blood, but I’ve managed to close his wounds and it looks as if no vital organs are damaged. Otherwise he’d be dead already. Now he’s in a fever. All we can do is wait.”

  “I hope he comes round.” Richmodis sighed. “He knows the truth.”

  “Don’t bank on it. We have to work out what’s going to happen ourselves.” He stroked his bald head. “What I’m asking myself is, who else is involved?”

  Goddert’s stomach rumbled in his sleep and he smacked his lips.

  “The Devil,” suggested Richmodis.

  “How unimaginative,” said Jaspar reproachfully. “Please think of something helpful. The Devil’s behind every piece of villainy, that’s nothing new.”

  “No, that’s not what I meant. I was facing him in the old warehouse today, the stranger, I mean—the Devil seemed to be inside him. It was odd. He filled me with fear, but at the same time I had a feeling of great closeness, as if it would take almost nothing, a mere trifle to make him quite different, the complete opposite. I suddenly felt the urge—”

  “Yes?” Jaspar asked, alert. “To do what?”

  “Better not say. You’ll be having me exorcised.”

  “You felt the urge to touch him.”

  She gave him a look of surprise and blushed.

  “That’s all right,” said Jaspar. “Christ and Antichrist, one and the same. Do you know what makes evil so fascinating? Its tragic nature. The Devil is a fallen angel. Look at Kuno. He seems to have decided to get out of hell and become an angel again. That means it can work the other way around as well and that gives me hope. Our enemies are not only ranged against us—they’re against one another, too.”

  “But there is a difference between fighting against men of flesh and blood and against the Devil,” said Jacob. “I’m not sure who or what I saw on the scaffolding. As I said, it could have been a man, but the way he came after me was simply too fast for a man. He jumped down like a cat. It could have been a tail streaming out behind him.”

  “That’s enough of that!” Jaspar was angry. “You’re coming out with the same nonsense as all the credulous folk who go goggle-eyed as soon as the magician says Casisa, hasisa, mesisa medantor, or some such rigmarole. Good God, you’re about as stupid as the peasant who won’t slaughter a pig on Saint Gall’s day for fear the meat will taste of gall. Did he have a tail, Richmodis?”

  “No. His hair came down to his waist. That was the tail.”

  “There you are.”

  “But the Devil was in his eyes.”

  “More peasant nonsense.” Jaspar groaned. “Why this relapse into ignorance? Surely you’ve heard me trying to demonstrate the power of reason to your father often enough. Has nothing rubbed off?”

  “All right. But if you’d just let me finish—”

  “And you, Jacob, you heathen. Have you ever bothered with religion, with heaven and hell? You don’t even know a prayer and suddenly you start wittering on about the Devil. Do you really believe you saw the Devil up there? Or is that what you want to believe because it’s nice and simple?”

  Jacob and Richmodis exchanged looks. They shrugged their shoulders uncertainly. He’s right, thought Jacob. It’s easy to make the Devil responsible for everything. I don’t really think I saw the Devil on the scaffolding. So why did I say I had?

  “However,” Jaspar went on in milder tones now that he saw his words were having an effect, “what we do know is that at least four members of patrician families have a finger in this particul
ar pie. That doesn’t sound like the Devil to me, more like a conspiracy.”

  He got up and started striding around the room, his nostrils quivering. “We have to find out what they’re plotting. Find their weak spot.”

  Richmodis nodded slowly. “Kuno said something to Daniel about an alliance being broken, whatever he meant by that. It sounded as if they had originally been on the same side, then fallen out.”

  Jaspar stopped. “There you are. Just as I said.”

  “But it was unclear to me what he meant.”

  “Perhaps not to me. Think back!”

  “I don’t know. Everything happened so quickly. I was just terribly afraid. I think I was praying, without daring to make a sound, while Kuno kept trying to persuade Daniel of something.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Something about a common goal and higher justice, that kind of thing. And that they had done something that was wrong.”

  “What?”

  “They sacrificed someone—Kuno’s only friend—”

  “Gerhard,” Jaspar cried triumphantly. “I knew it. Gerhard knew their secret, and that’s why he had to die. Kuno has broken with them. He’s changed sides. I knew it. I knew it.”

  “Wait.” Her frown cleared. “There was something else. Kuno reminded Daniel of his past, of how important justice had been to him.” She puckered her lips in distaste. “Strange. I can’t imagine that bastard ever being concerned about justice.”

  “He wasn’t,” growled Jaspar. “Daniel was one of the youngest magistrates, a corrupt bigmouth with money but no brains. A trick Kuno tried to talk him around. Without success.” He paused and slapped his forehead. “And Daniel is the son of Johann Overstolz! My God! If he’s in it, too, that means we have almost all the senior members of the Overstolz clan against us. An alliance between the Overstolzes and the Kones. What could that mean? A patrician revolt?”

  “Why should they plan a revolt?” Jacob asked.

  “They’ve got reason enough.”

  “Why?”

  “To regain their old supremacy.”

  Jacob glanced at Kuno. Had the man moved or was he just imagining it? “What’s the point of all this, Jaspar?” he said in desperation. “It’s all beyond me. I know nothing of power and politics, nothing about the patricians. I know nothing at all. How am I supposed to defend myself against something that’s a complete mystery to me?”