“Even if you do care,” Druckenmiller said, “what do you have to tear me down for? I’m the only one on your side. Christ.” He hung his head and trudged back into the station.
TEN
IN THE MOMENT BEFORE THE BLAST, that instant when every man and boy in the mine perceived at a level just below consciousness that doomsday had arrived, Jonas Bauer had been thinking about his friend, Roy Kunkle. They were working side by side that day, and Kunkle, a physically imposing creature, had been hitting it harder than usual, hacking full tilt. With every swing, he’d sent black diamonds flying from the seam. Kunkle had been working angry, though Bauer didn’t know why and didn’t wonder about it much. Kunkle was a stormy fellow after all, often at odds with others, though rarely with fellow workers. In that moment before the blast, Bauer had had a flicker of insight regarding his friend, and the cause of his anger. In the moment after the explosion, as he choked on the dust and wiggled his parts to see if everything was still attached, Bauer thought first of Roy Kunkle. He touched Kunkle’s knee.
“Roy? Roy?”
Bauer had gotten no response. He laid his hand on Kunkle’s chest and felt a heartbeat, then another, then nothing. Bauer held his hand over where Kunkle’s mouth should have been and didn’t feel a breath. When Bauer tried to touch Kunkle’s brow to see if it felt warm, he realized the man’s head wasn’t there at all.
More memories, as well as new insights, had started to flow. Bauer realized he must have been knocked unconscious by the explosion, because now he remembered waking up on the floor of the shaft, coughing. Until now, he hadn’t remembered anything about the moments prior to the explosion and barely anything after. He was starting to remember that Kunkle had been trying to tell him something and possibly had given him something right before it happened. Strain as he might, though, Bauer could not recall what it was or even what it might have been.
Jonas Bauer couldn’t imagine why this particular chain of memories should have surfaced on Christmas Day, at the time of day, in fact, when Bauer felt most relaxed and satisfied. He’d eaten his fill of the feast Rachel had prepared, and Bauer had basked in the love of his daughters. Even better, Knecht had stayed away most of the morning, out of respect for the family, Bauer hoped. Knecht had returned just before lunch but went straight to the cellar to work on a project or repair one of the hand tools. Bauer was content to leave him alone, regardless. He settled back into his chair and felt the muscles in his hands and feet relax. He breathed a long, slow sigh. Fragments of memories from that day in the mine started drifting into his consciousness again. Bauer saw it now. Kunkle had stopped swinging his pick and had stood up straight to address Bauer.
He’d said, “Here, take this” and shoved something in Bauer’s hand. Bauer remembered putting it in his pocket, though he couldn’t remember what it was. Slowly, bit by bit, the memory continued to form, and as Bauer focused his full attention on the scene, he could just barely begin to make out what it was.
“Sorry to bother you.” Knecht stood directly in front of Bauer.
The memory vanished. “Jesus Christ, Danny. Was ist?”
“Well, first, I wanted to say Merry Christmas, and second, I wanted to see if I could talk to you.”
“Yah, sure, sure, sit down.” Bauer could not hide his irritation. The peace and contentment he’d felt all day drained out of him. Knecht pulled up a wooden chair.
“Mr. Bauer, I know things ain’t exactly been right since you and I had that falling out, if that’s what it was. And I know you have some questions about my intentions, ’specially regarding Nadine.”
“Danny, it’s just—“
“I understand, Mr. Bauer. I understand the situation you’re in. You hafta do what’s best and say the right things according to how to be a man and to raise your family. And I’ve learned a lot from being here. Learned a lot from you, sir. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” Bauer felt his throat constrict when he said it and saw Knecht’s fingers curl and tighten. “Anything else, Danny?”
“Well, I realized in this past week that I should probably be leaving soon. Find my own place. Get out on my own. Move out. That’s what I need, seems like.” A wave of relief washed over Bauer, and he prayed that the conversation would end right there.
“Mr. Bauer, there’s one more thing.” Knecht leaned forward in his chair, putting his forearms on his knees. “I want to start my own family someday. I want to live in a house like this one.”
“That’s good.”
“I want to take Nadine with me when I go, sir. I want Nadine to be my wife.”
THE SNOW that had begun falling on Christmas Eve continued straight through Christmas morning, and Kamp figured there might even be a foot on the ground. He’d seen no travelers on the road that day, except for a sleigh drawn by a team of horses. He saw a family in the sleigh, probably headed for Jonas Bauer’s house. He had no plans for leaving the house, no urge to go walking. He felt content to stay put, for a change. Shaw had already spent the better part of the day in bed, and he had no intention of waking her. E. Wyles had told him that the time was drawing near and that he should be ready to come get her if he thought labor had begun. Earlier, he'd chopped wood and stacked it next to the fireplace in the front room of the house. He threw a few logs on the fire, unlaced his boots and took them off. He let the warmth of the flames seep into his toes, and he felt a powerful relaxation overtake him. His mind drifted back to the moment he met Shaw, looked in her eyes, found his way. Kamp stretched out on the floor in front of the fireplace, and lying on his back, watched the snowflakes twirl and spin past the window. Soon, he drifted into a heavy slumber.
THE FOGELS ARRIVED at the home of Jonas Bauer by sleigh in the middle of the afternoon on Christmas Day. The younger Bauer girls, Heidi and Anna, heard the bells, rushed to the front door and swung it open, oblivious to the conversation that had just ended between their father and Daniel Knecht. Rachel had planned an afternoon of games and singing, and the children immediately began playing with toys they got for Christmas. Jonas Bauer struck up a conversation with the father, John Fogel, about the ride over and about the snow. As he talked, he scanned the room and noticed neither Knecht nor Nyx was there. Bauer’s heart started thudding in his chest. Rachel noticed Bauer’s distress, and he motioned for her to meet him in the kitchen.
He said to John Fogel, “Excuse me.”
“Why, sure.”
When they got to the kitchen, Rachel put her hand on Bauer’s arm. “What is it, Jonas?”
“Ach, it’s Danny.”
“What about him?”
“Says he wants to move out. And as far as I’m concerned, good riddance.”
“Oh, Jonas.”
“Yah, well, he wants to take Nyx with him. Wants to marry her. Wants to leave right away.” Rachel held her hand to her mouth and laughed. “Oh, father.”
“What’s so funny?”
“Nyx isn’t going anywhere with him.”
“Why not?”
“Danny’s just confused.”
“About what?”
“She doesn’t love him.” Rachel put her arm around Bauer’s shoulders.
“Well, mebbe she don’t, but either he don’t know that, or he don’t care.”
“He’s harmless.”
“Like hell he is. He’s leaving tonight!”
“Keep your voice down. You can’t put him out tonight. You can’t just throw him out into the snow. Not on Christmas. Think about the strain it would put on everyone.”
“Rachel, his intentions are wrong. I seen it in his eyes.”
“Be firm with him. Tell him he must be out tomorrow.”
“Ach, I don’t even know where he is. Or Nyx.”
Bauer left the kitchen and hurried up the stairs. He saw a light in Nyx’s room through a crack in the door. “Nyx! Nyx!” No reply. Bauer burst through the door and found Nyx standing in front of her mirror, brushing her hair.
She looked at Bauer in the mir
ror. “Daddy, what is it?”
Jonas Bauer forced himself to breathe slower. “Nothing. It was just, I just—nothing. I’m sorry. How come you’re up here and not with everyone else?”
“I needed quiet.” She continued pulling the brush through her long hair.
“Where’s Danny?” Bauer turned to leave.
“I haven’t seen him. Is something wrong, Daddy? Did something happen to Danny?”
Bauer pulled the door hard behind him. He hustled down the steps to the first floor, then down again to the cellar. The cellar was dark, except for a small light in the back corner. Bauer stopped and quieted himself, listening, and heard nothing. He walked softly across the cellar floor around the corner and toward the dim light. Knecht was there, waiting.
Bauer said, “Danny, you’re here.”
“Where am I supposed to be?”
“Well, I don’t know exactly, though I didn’t figure you’d be down here in the dark.”
“Then why come looking?”
“Well, I—how come you’re here?”
“I’m getting my things together, some things I left down here. So I can leave tomorrow.”
“Now, if you want to—”
“I heard.”
“If you want to stay until—heard what?”
“What you said. What you talked about with Mrs. Bauer. I was down here. I heard it all through the hole in the kitchen floor.”
“Danny, we can talk about—”
“Heard how you think I ought to leave right away, how you’re certain I got wrong intentions. How Nadine don’t love me.” While he spoke, Knecht did not move but stayed crouched on the floor.
Bauer said, “Who’s right or wrong…it don’t matter. But what’s best is for you to leave tomorrow morning.”
“I know. I understand now. I won’t cause no trouble, won’t let on if that’s what you’re worried about. And if it’s all right with you, I don’t want to tell the girls till tomorrow. I don’t wanna upset ’em…they’re having too much fun.”
“Well, that’s kind of you, Danny. Let’s go back upstairs.”
For the rest of the evening, Bauer forced himself not to watch Knecht continuously. He told himself again and again that Rachel was right, that Knecht, no matter how confused or upset, was not dangerous. But he couldn’t banish the worry. For his part Knecht displayed no distress at all. As soon as they emerged from the cellar, Knecht took up his typical role, playing games and joining in the singing. Most important, Bauer detected nothing unusual between Knecht and Nyx. He allowed himself to think, Knecht will keep his word. Lord, make him keep his word.
ELEVEN
DANIEL KNECHT KNEW he’d crossed a threshold, knew that an overpowering darkness was threatening to invade, or already had. Still, he did not give himself over to it. He tried battling it one last time. The family had gone to bed at their normal hour that night, and so had Knecht. He hadn’t slept much, and when he had, it was a brief and tormented. Knecht looked out the window to see a pristine world under starlight, bare branches blanketed with fresh snow and a cold, pure creek running by.
At two o’clock in the morning, Knecht went to the door of the bedroom where Nyx slept across the room from her sisters. He laid his hand on the cold brass knob. He heard wind in the trees outside and apart from that, silence. Knecht crept slowly into the room. By the moonlight, he easily discerned the form of Nyx in her bed. He got in beside her.
Nyx had known this moment would come, and she’d suspected it would be this very night. She’d seen it in his eyes before. Longing. It had been exciting to see the effect she had on this man, at first. She saw what it did to her father as well, how it made him angry. It thrilled her. It was a harmless game. She knew that nothing would come of it, and she believed Danny Knecht understood that too. At least he better. And if he didn’t, her father would keep him in line. Then, Danny’s interest began to scare her, too. She felt him watching her. Tonight it had been worse, though. Even if no one else could tell, she saw that he was desperate.
Roused from sleep, Nyx felt Danny’s calloused hands on her hips and his breath on the back of her neck.
She gritted her teeth and hissed, “Don’t.”
Under his breath, Knecht said, “Don’t talk, Nadine.” He started to lift her nightgown.
“No!” She said it loud enough to wake Heidi.
Knecht whispered, “Forgive me,” and he pressed himself against her.
“I said, no!” Nyx swung a fist backward and caught Knecht across the jaw. Her second punch landed on his nose and brought tears to his eyes.
Knecht said, “I love you, Nadine.”
She screamed, “Get away from me” and shoved him out of the bed. By now Nyx’s sisters were both sitting up, trying to make sense of the grim drama playing out in their moonlit room.
Knecht stood up, rubbed his eyes and walked out of the room. He’s gone, Nyx thought. Now he knows how I feel, and now he’ll leave me alone for good. She felt relief as she watched him leave. He shut the door behind him, and the room became quiet. Safe from him.
Then Nyx heard a soft click. She knew the sound well. Daniel Knecht had locked the bedroom door from outside. She and her sisters were now locked in their room. If he’d wanted to get in there so bad in the first place, why would he leave and lock the door behind him?
“KAMP! KAMP! OPEN THE DOOR. Something awful has happened!”
He heard the man trying to open the locked front door. From where he’d been sleeping in front of the fireplace, Kamp scrambled to his feet and looked through the front window. He recognized the man’s voice and outline in the moonlight. Daniel Knecht.
He lit a lantern and opened the front door. “What is it, Danny?”
“Robbers broke in. They hurt Mr. and Mrs. Bauer real bad.”
“Are they still there?”
“Yah, they’re in their bed.”
“No, the robbers. Were they in the house when you left?” Kamp pulled on his boots and laced them up as he talked.
“Ach, I don’t know. I doubt it. I ran here as soon as I seen what they done.”
He put on his coat and hat and hustled out the door with Knecht following, making certain the door was locked behind him.
Kamp said, “We’re going to Richter’s first.”
“What for?”
GEORGE RICHTER’S WAS THE ONE HOUSE in the mile between his place and Bauer’s. Kamp and Knecht hurried up the road, then down the path to Richter’s house where Kamp pounded on the front door. A bleary-eyed George Richter appeared in his nightclothes, holding a kerosene lamp. Kamp described the situation to him.
Richter said, “I’ll get Hugh, and we’ll go” and closed the door.
Kamp knew he was referring to Hugh Arndt, his hired man. A few minutes later the door opened and George Richter, now fully dressed stood in the doorway, pushing shells into a shiny double-barreled shotgun.
Kamp said, “Looks brand new.”
“Christmas present.”
Richter walked out the door, followed by Hugh Arndt who also carried a gun, a Sharps rifle. The four men broke into a jog once they reached the road.
Richter said to Knecht, “How bad are they hurt?”
“They aren’t.”
Kamp said, “You told me they’re hurt real bad.”
“Oh, I thought he meant the girls. They’re not hurt at all…far as I know.”
Richter said, “What about Jonas and Rachel?”
Knecht said, “Oh, yah, they’re hurt real bad.”
“Did you see them?”
“Who?”
“Them that done it. The robbers,” Richter said.
Knecht said, “No, I did not.”
“Not at all?”
“I must’ve been asleep until it was already over. When I looked in on them, it was already done.”
Richter said, “Do you know whether they left or not?”
“It was just quiet in the house afterwards.”
The men clutched t
heir weapons, slowing down, stepping carefully as they reached the front of the house. The front door hung wide open, just as Knecht had left it. It gaped at them, the darkness inside much blacker than the night sky.
“George, go around that way,” Kamp said. He motioned around the left side of the house. “Hugh, go around the other.” The two men walked off, heads swiveling slowly.
Knecht started up the front steps ahead of Kamp and through the front door. They paused once inside, listening. They could hear crying, muffled through the walls.
Kamp called out, “Jonas Bauer! Are you there? Bauer!”
His voice boomed through the house. They listened again and heard nothing. Then, the children began to shriek. Knecht stole a glance at Kamp, and he touched the four-barrel revolver tucked into his waistband.
Kamp said, “Danny, get us a lantern.” Knecht walked into the kitchen as George Richter and Hugh Arndt walked through the front door.
Richter whispered, “No one out there.”
“Nope. No one,” Arndt said.
Knecht returned with a burning lantern. Kamp turned to him and said, “Where are they?”
“That way.” Knecht pointed into the darkness.
“All right. Show us.”
THEIR BOOTS THUNDERED, clop, clop in the hallway. When the four men reached the bedroom door, George Richter raised the double-barrel and braced it against his shoulder as if to protect himself from what he was about to witness.
Large splatters of blood containing flesh and chunks of brain clung to the wall next to the bed. Jonas Bauer’s head had been hacked nearly off, held on now only by a few cords of muscle. His face was split horizontally from ear to ear. Rachel’s wounds were similar. Her skull was caved in above her eyes, and her face had been cleaved open at her mouth. The bodies lay side by side in the marital bed with the quilt pulled up to their chins. An ax lay crosswise on Rachel’s chest.
George Richter lowered his shotgun, took off his hat and said, “Christ almighty. Jonas.”
Kamp had seen a great deal of gore on the battlefield and never got used to it. At the same time, he’d come to understand that the ruination of human bodies was a requirement for war. This, however, was different. He immediately recognized the scene as personal, intimate, a paroxysm of violence unlike what he’d seen in battle. Some power wanted them to gaze at the bodies indefinitely, and he knew that having looked had already caused a great disturbance within him. He forced himself to focus on the other details in the room, the quilt pulled up to their chins, the way the ax had been placed, the open cigar box on the windowsill.
Ax & Spade: A Thriller (Raven Trilogy Book 1) Page 9