Frank Schätzing - Death and the Devil

“Sooner or later he’ll come here,” said Jaspar.

“But he doesn’t know where we live,” said Goddert, a quiver in his voice.

“He found my house, even though I didn’t send a written invitation with a map. Anyway, he talked to Rolof and it’s easy to squeeze things out of him.”

“ 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.”

“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.”