Frank Schätzing - Death and the Devil

He had broken with them.

On the landing he turned to look back at the closed door to Johann’s study. He bore the old man no malice. Presumably Johann had to act as he had. It no longer interested him.

“Well, well, well, what have we here?”

Kuno looked down. Daniel was leaning against the wall at the foot of the stairs, grinning like the cat that had eaten the cream.

For a moment Kuno was tempted to hurl a few well-aimed insults at him in revenge for the shame Daniel had brought on him at Gerhard’s funeral. But his pride won the day. He was beyond that, too. Without hurrying, he went down the stairs until he was standing eye to eye with the young Overstolz. A cloud of alcohol fumes enveloped him. Daniel was roaring drunk.

“It’s the friend of bold young men.” The tip of Daniel’s tongue flickered in and out between his teeth. “Want to join in again, do we? Well, we won’t let you.”

Kuno looked at him, full of loathing. “You’re a disgrace to your family,” he said softly. He made to walk on, but Daniel grabbed him by the arm.

“Let go of me,” said Kuno, barely able to control himself.

“Why? Suddenly decided we don’t like to be touched by men’s hands, have we?” Daniel wrinkled his nose in contempt and let go of Kuno’s arm as if he had the pox. “Huh, who cares about you and your sniveling? You make me sick. Still whining about the deaths?” He bared his teeth. “Better save a few tears, crybaby, they won’t be the last.”

Kuno turned away. They won’t be the last—“What do you mean?” he asked, still not looking at Daniel.

“What do I mean?” Daniel spat on the floor and stabbed him in the ribs with his index finger. “Wouldn’t that be too heavy a burden for such a sensitive flower that wilts at the slightest hard decision? I couldn’t do that to you, Kuno, I know how much it makes you suffer. Or should I?” He minced around Kuno until he was peering up at him. “Aaaah! A steely gaze! Have we a man after all? I’m impressed, Kuno. You put the fear of God into me, you really do.”

Suddenly he tripped and stumbled against the banister.

“You’re not even capable of supporting the burden of your own body,” said Kuno contemptuously, “never mind burdening me.”

“Oh, yes?” Daniel grinned. “Aren’t you burdened enough with your worm-eaten Gerhard Morart? Ooooh, poor Gerhard, poor, poor Gerhard. Fell off the scaffolding. What bad luck. And you’re to blame.” He staggered over to Kuno and stood in front of him, swaying. “That’s not the only thing you’re to blame for. You’re to blame for everything. You really want to know who’s next on the list? Go to the old warehouse.”

“What are you talking about, you beer-swilling Overstolz sot?”

“Hah!” Daniel made a theatrical gesture, almost losing his balance in the process. “I ought to kill you for that, on the spot. But then you wouldn’t suffer anymore. Yes, my dear, tenderhearted friend, Urquhart has taken a young thing away from her nearest and dearest. Now he’s got them all where he wants them, the Fox, the dean—”

“The dean? Who’s that?”

“No, no, Kunikins, you don’t have to know everything. Just enough to get your arse in a lather.”

“You’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

“A lovely girl, so I heard. Urquhart told Matthias she’s the niece of the dean the Fox holed up with—”

“What fox?”

“The one who saw how your beloved master Gerhard learned to fly, the one—”

“Yes? Go on.”

Daniel’s eyes focused. All at once he seemed almost sober. “What are you after, Kuno?” he asked, emphasizing each single word.

“What am I after?”

“There’s something wrong. Why are you suddenly all ears?”

“Just listening to you, my friend.”

“Get out, you loathsome—”

“You can save your breath,” said Kuno calmly, “I’m going.” He turned on his heel and hurried out of the house into Rheingasse.

“—loathsome worm, slimy beast, excrescence on the backside of humanity—” Daniel screamed as he left.

Kuno ignored him completely. At last he knew what he must do.

Daniel leaned against the newel post, breathing heavily, as the door closed behind Kuno. Above him the door to Johann’s study “What’s all the noise about, Daniel?”

He looked up and shrugged his shoulders. “Nothing. Kuno was being insolent, that’s all.”

Johann looked down at him angrily. “Kuno may be a fool and a danger, but never insolent.”

“Father—”

“No! I don’t want to hear your shouting here. Do it in your own home, where your wife’s been waiting far too long for you, but not here. Understood?”

Daniel ground his teeth. “Understood.”

“I didn’t hear. Louder.”

“All right! Understood. Understood!”

Daniel gave a howl of fury, strode unsteadily across the hall, and flung the door open. Outside the rain was splattering on the mud.

That was a mistake, he thought. You should have kept your mouth shut.

You’d better sort it out.

“We can’t stay here,” Jacob declared.

They had laid Rolof on the bench and closed his eyes. They couldn’t do any more for him at the moment. Jaspar’s usual affability had given way to seething anger. Despite being pursued himself, he had so far treated the affair with a kind of academic interest. Now he was directly involved. His house had been broken into, his family put under threat, his servant brutally murdered. And there was another change in him. Beneath his quivering fury was uncertainty. For the first time he seemed to feel fear.

That did not stop him from kneeling down beside Rolof ’s body and accompanying him on his journey to a better world with silent prayers. Jacob stood there, not sure what he could say to the Lord. He hardly knew any prayers, so he asked Him to look mercifully on Rolof ’s soul, repeated the request several times, and then felt enough was enough.

“We’ve got to go,” he said urgently.

Jaspar continued to pray.

“Do you understand?”

“Why?” Jaspar growled.

“Why? God, they know everything about us.”

“So what?”

“Are we going to wait for them to come back and send us to join Rolof?”

“In the first place,” said Jaspar irritatedly, as he got up, “I presume it wasn’t a them but a him, that is, Gerhard’s murderer. In the second place, why should he come back? He’s got a hostage. He doesn’t need to bother with us anymore. None of us is going to say a blind word.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” asked Jacob uncertainly.

Jaspar was silent. Somehow his silence seemed to last too long.

“All right.” Jacob sat down on one of the stools. “I’m sorry I came to your house. I blame myself for what’s happened to Richmodis and I’m sad about Rolof. And I feel terrible that something might happen to you or Goddert. I’m very sorry, dammit! But it’s happened now and I can’t do anything to change it. It was your decision to help me. If you want, I’ll go and try to find Richmodis. If you never want to set eyes on me again, I can understand that. Only, however much I have to be grateful to you for, don’t blame me because you decided to help me.”

Jaspar frowned. “When did I ever blame you for anything?”

“Not out loud, Jaspar, but you thought it. You see me as responsible for all this. In a way I am. But you had a free choice. Nobody forced you. Don’t think I’m being ungrateful, I just want you to be open with me. Throw me out, if you like, but don’t pretend you want to help me, while inside you’re beginning to hate me.”

“Who’s saying I hate you?”

“No one is. But at the moment you’re thinking, if I hadn’t met this goddamn good-for-nothing—or, if you like, if I hadn’t helped him—Rolof would still be alive and no one would be in danger. You’re weighing my life against those of Rolof and Richmodis, and I come off worse. You don’t have to tell me, I know. But I also know this may be your last opportunity to decide, and I don’t want you deceiving yourself and me. I can live—and die—with anything, apart from the contempt of a Good Samaritan who’s standing by me, not for my sake, but for his own self-respect.” He lowered his voice. “I don’t need anyone to tell me my life is worth less than that of others. Send me away, if you want. But leave me my pride.”