Imogen Robertson - Circle of Shadows

Sami shook his head. ‘No, the drawings came with the commission. Then the talisman you noticed. That was to be painted on the front of the torso, but out of sight, under the clothing, as I said.’

‘The clothing too was specified,’ Adnan said. ‘In fact, it was provided. It came with the money and the notes as to what the model was to do and how.’

Harriet put her fingers to her forehead as if she could massage the thoughts out of her brain. ‘Provided? Surely … I am alone in suspecting …?’

‘That we were recreating an actual woman? Yes, Mrs Westerman, we suspected that. I am afraid I did not know what to think. An artist paints living people, a sculpture has living models.’

‘But you add movement, does that not make your creations something different?’

Adnan put his elbow on the table and his chin in his hand and gave a lop-sided smile. ‘I do not know, Mrs Westerman. Suppose this is the recreation of a woman lost to our client, or even a portrait bought to compliment her, what harm could it do? It is only an automaton. Even if it is a rather wonderful one.’

She continued to stare at the portrait. It had life in it, even this simple piece of paper. ‘Was there anything else unusual about this commission?’

‘There was hardly anything usual about it. One more element, perhaps; there was a stipulation that there be a gap in the torso.’ He took his turn at his own papers and held out a sheet towards her. It showed a space, neatly measured eight inches by eight.

‘For what could this be?’

‘I asked, of course, since leaving that space made a complicated work more complicated still. The messenger simply said it was required. That was his answer to any question asked.’

‘Who was the messenger? One of the servants of the palace, you said. Do you know his name?’

Adnan pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Wolf, William … no, Wimpf! That was it, Wimpf.’

Harriet’s pace was a little too hot for Rachel as they returned through the garden. She felt a clutch in her stomach and came to a halt.

‘A little sickness, Harry. If we could just sit for a moment?’ She fought the swell of nausea. ‘Talk to me, Harriet, give me something else to think on. Why are you so interested in this sign, the automata?’

Harriet put her arm around her sister’s shoulders and thought of her own times of pregnancy. That strange yellow nausea that came so violently, then left her, that first glorious moment when life stirred in her. ‘That design came from one of the books stolen from Kupfel along with the poison books. Below that was mention of some manner of ritual using blood. Now I wonder at the secrecy with which the model was commissioned.’

‘The servant they mentioned, Wimpf — he is the man who cleaned the secret room for Major Auwerk, is he not?’

‘Yes, though of course he must serve the needs of any number of people at the court during the day.’

‘I see.’

‘Do you believe him, Rachel?’ Harriet asked suddenly. Rachel realised she had been waiting for the question.

‘Manzerotti? That he did not order James’s death? I cannot say. It is plausible, I suppose. Do you?’

Harriet put her hand to her face. ‘I simply don’t know, my love. Part of me feels it does not matter. Whatever I do, whatever revenge I might dream of taking, I can never bring James back.’ She suddenly froze. ‘Oh my Lord …’

‘What is it, Harry?’

‘The automata, the rituals, the blood. There was a sentence in one of those volumes taken from Herr Kupfel’s about fixing a spirit in a statue. But the lady was banished, not killed, it was her boy that died. We must get back to the palace and talk to Crowther and find out about the woman in the picture. Could it be the widow, Frau Kastner, driven from court, and if so, is she alive and where did she go? Are you recovered?’

‘Just a moment more, please, Harriet. My head is spinning.’

The sisters sat together in silence, then, just as Rachel opened her mouth to speak again, Harriet held up her hand. There was the sound of footsteps close by on the gravel and on the other side of the hedge, Harriet heard Manzerotti’s voice; he was speaking in French.

‘You have done very well, you will leave Maulberg a rich man. I think I could have named the names on this list …’

‘How?’ The person to whom Manzerotti was speaking sounded rather put out. It was the voice of a young man.

‘They are dead. All but one of them.’

‘Good God. The Circle of seven? Those closest to power in Maulberg? What a blow to the Minervals.’

‘You sound sorry for them. Do you wish to sit, does your ankle pain you?’

‘It’s not a problem as long as I don’t forget and put my weight on it too suddenly. You should have seen me, clambering all over those roofs like a damn squirrel. Honestly, Philippe, then waking in that muck. Lord, I thought I’d never stop stinking.’

Harriet realised she had never heard Manzerotti’s first name spoken aloud before, she didn’t even think he had one. Rachel’s hand lay in hers; she squeezed it gently.

‘But look here,’ the unknown voice continued. ‘Are these other people in danger?’ They heard the sound of paper being unfolded, jabbed at.

Harriet heard Manzerotti’s soft laugh. ‘Now you have given me their names, yes, I think they are in quite a lot of danger, don’t you?’

‘That’s not what I mean, and you know it.’

‘What is your concern?’

‘Florian.’

‘Oh yes, the young man of whom you have made such exemplary use. A young man at his studies in Leuchtenstadt. No, I don’t believe the murderous hand will reach to him. What the Duke will do to him when he learns he is part of this society, I cannot say.’

‘I want to get him out of Leuchtenstadt.’ Harriet heard Manzerotti sigh and there was a rustle of clothing as he took a seat on the other side of the hedge. She caught Rachel’s eye. Her sister looked uncomfortable. Drained as she was, Harriet still smiled. It was typical of her sister’s strict codes of behaviour that she could feel it was wrong to eavesdrop on the conversations of a spy.

‘You have become sentimental, my boy?’

‘Let me take his name off the list — they’ll never know. And get him to his father’s place till all this dies down. He’s just an infant! All ideals and soft-heartedness, with no idea what he is caught up in.’

There was a short silence before Manzerotti spoke. ‘I think the same might be said of you, Pegel.’

There was no reply.

Then: ‘I shall consider it.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Let us return to the palace, Jacob. I would like you to explain what you have been about to a widow of my acquaintance and an anatomist.’

‘I don’t understand.’

‘I know.’

The footsteps retreated. Rachel looked up at her sister. ‘It rather sounds as if we should be making our way back too, does it not?’

‘Indeed it does. I hope we will hear from Michaels today.’

‘He will have found her trail, Harriet. No one is more capable. But I fear learning what he has found at its end.’

Harriet only had time to tell Clode and Crowther what she had learned in the village before a note arrived asking them to meet Manzerotti in Swann’s office. Rachel and Clode went to release Graves from his watch at the Chancellor’s bedside. When they were admitted to the Chancellor’s office Harriet did not see the castrato, but instead a young man in a dark blue coat sitting in Swann’s chair. He had his feet up on the desk, his hands linked behind his head and his eyes closed. His face was rather bruised. As they entered he opened one eye and looked at them both carefully, but made no movement.