Коллектив авторов - Grantville Gazette 37

"That is a lot of blood," Dr. Zapfius acknowledged.

Astrid couldn't see any of it. She, Karl, and Lukas were sticking to Katharina and Barbara who were in the center of the group of BGS students staying on the edge of the crowd. Phillip was mingled into the crowd.

"It was that one!" a woman shrilled.

Astrid snapped around to see a woman pointing at Neustatter.

"I saw him! He was sneaking off!"

"When was this?" Neustatter shouted over the hubbub.

"Yesterday."

The watchman who had stayed at the scene-Jost-poked at Neustatter with his cudgel "Where were you going?"

"Martial arts lesson," Neustatter replied with a grin. "Do that again. I'll demonstrate. It'll be fun."

Watchman Meinhard stepped in. "Knock it off, Jost. I'm not sure what a martial arts is-" He repeated the English term. "-but I saw him take Huber's staff away from him and trip up Goren with it."

"Why haven't you arrested him?" Jost demanded.

"Because it was self-defense on Neustatter's part and stupidity in the first degree on Huber's part," Meinhard answered. Huber glared at him.

Neustatter laughed. "You got that one from Dan Frost, didn't you?"

"I did. You know Herr Frost?"

"He helped me set up my security company."

"I see. And these martial arts lessons?"

"Fighting styles from Japan and China that a few up-timers know. Sometimes it's nice to have a surprise."

"So I see. Which up-timer teaches the lessons?"

"Gena Kroll."

Seeing Meinhard's blank look, Neustatter added, "Gordon Kroll's daughter. Dennis Stull's secretary. They all work for military procurement."

"Oh, right. I've met Herr Kroll. His daughter . . . isn't she more or less betrothed to Sergeant Hudson?"

Neustatter was grinning again. "Yes."

"He and his friend Sergeant Allen don't like Germans. They call us Krauts when they've been drinking."

"Gena is dating one of the no-Kraut men?" Katharina asked.

Meinhard looked her way. "Why does that surprise you? And who are you?"

"Katharina Meisnerin of the Bibelgesellschaft . Most of us know Gena from Grantville High School. She defended us Anabaptists once."

Meinhard frowned. "Her betrothed may not let her do that anymore."

Neustatter laughed again. "It's clear you don't know Gena very well. Besides, you are underestimating Eric Hudson."

Meinhard blinked. "I never said his first name."

"No, you didn't. But I know him. It's true that he says he dislikes us Germans. But he tends to forget that once he knows you. He likes movies-the up-time moving pictures."

Meinhard frowned. "Sergeant Hudson was transferred to Halle. He's courting Miss Krollin and watching movies in Grantville . . ."

"And drinking at the 250 Club," Neustatter added. "He's very efficient. There's a reason the Army put him in charge of train schedules."

Meinhard said, "We'll need to verify all this, of course."

"Of course."

"Under close questioning," the nasal voice added.

"That's not going to happen," Neustatter answered. He didn't bother to turn around.

"This is Erfurt," another voice spat. "Not Grantville."

"They will be tried by our laws!" someone else in the crowd shouted.

"Thuringian law is the same in Erfurt and Grantville," Watchman Meinhard stated.

"They shot someone and carried him off!" came a shout from crowd. "They're working for the Catholics! They must be punished!" There was a general chorus of agreement from the rest of the crowd.

Neustatter shucked off his coat and let it drop to the ground. His holster was very visible as he turned around.

A few of the more perceptive citizens of Erfurt-and everyone who'd ever see one of the Western movies in Grantville-started moving away, thinking about such things as lines of fire.

"Calm down, all of you!" Meinhard ordered.

"We can take them!" one Erfurter insisted.

Karl and Lukas exchanged incredulous looks.

"Do something!" Astrid heard Katharina hiss at Georg.

"What do you want me to do?" Georg asked.

"I don't know! Think of something!" Katharina was becoming frantic.

Georg started easing his way through the crowd toward the alley.

Astrid decided that Katharina and Barbara would be safe enough for the moment. They were flanked by fellow students Horst Felke and Johannes Musaeus as well as having Karl and Lukas close by.

"Karl," Astrid said, "watch the others. I'll cover Georg." She slipped through the crowd after him.

Meanwhile, Meinhard was telling his partner, "Heinkel, go to the base and ask if Sergeant Eric Hudson and Fraulein Gena Krollin would please accompany you back here. Be polite. Bring Herr Kroll and Herr Stull if they wish. The whole rest of the city is here-they may as well be."

****

Georg got to the front and stood there looking into the alley. The crowd was becoming increasingly aggravated. He knelt down. Astrid sighed. That would make him even harder to protect.

Suddenly Georg straightened and carefully walked a little ways down the alley. "Whatever happened, no one was shot," he proclaimed.

Everyone in earshot turned to look at him.

"What?" Astrid demanded. "Of course someone was shot. There's blood everywhere."

"Not shot," Georg insisted. "Stabbed or cut. Perhaps bludgeoned. But not shot."

"Why do you say that?"

"The blood, it's not right," Georg said.

"Neustatter!" Astrid called. "There's something you'll want to know." She waved Georg forward. "Explain."

"Whoever bled here, he or she was not shot," Georg said.

"Speak up!" someone hollered.

Neustatter motioned to the watchmen. "Gentlemen, we won't all fit. Perhaps the two professors and then you could pick out a couple dependable men?"

Meinhard nodded. He pointed at two men. "Rudolf Schwartz. Klaus Huber. You witness for the crowd. And for the Committees." Huber was the man with the quarterstaff.

Eight men crowding into an alley trying to avoid stepping in bloodstains was awkward at best. Once they were all at least close enough to hear, Neustatter said, "Say that again, Georg."

"This is not blood from shot," Georg said again. "This is blood from a blade." He pointed at a streak of blood on the wall, three or four yards from the end of the alley. "This is artery spray. It's about one American foot from the ground. Not head or chest level. And then whoever it was collapsed right there." He pointed at a section of wall where the pattern sloped down to the ground, ending in a pool of semi-dried blood. It was irregularly shaped, about three American feet by a foot and a half.

"Right," Meinhard said. "Then he picked up the body and left these footprints here." He pointed at a couple impressions that ended in a confused tangle with a smaller patch of blood at the edge of the alley where it met the street.

"What is the point of this?" Jost asked.

"Figuring out what happened," Meinhard told him. "Someone stepped in blood and walked to the edge of the street. There's no blood out in the street but there is this spot. As if someone who was bleeding stopped and stood here."

"It would have happened while they were loading the body," Jost said.

Georg pointed at it. "That's dripping. Uh, gravitational spatter, they call it. See how the drops here by the street are all round? And that-" He indicated a spray pattern. "is not gravitational. It's from a new wound." He squatted down to look closely. "There is also white stuff on the ground. I smell something, too." He sniffed the ground. "I think it's horseradish."

Jost opened his mouth to argue and then reconsidered. But Huber said it for him. "So the heretics stabbed him again and then put the body in a wagon."

"That's not what happened," Georg said. "Look at these blood drops."

Watchman Meinhard frowned. "There are two blood trails. We're standing in one of them! Everyone step back against the wall." He pointed at the ground and traced the trail as everyone got out of the way. "One going into the alley and one coming back out?"