Armand Cabasson - Wolf Hunt

‘Why don’t I come on my own?’ proposed Margont.

‘Same problem, same effect. You have to leave it to the police. It’s true that most of the police have fled Vienna, or have gone with the Austrian army. The few who remain already have enough to do keeping order, in accordance with your Napoleon’s instructions. But, as soon as the war is over, life will return to normal and the investigation can start again. Until then, unfortunately we can only

wait...’

Relmyerwas incensed.

‘Is that all? The man who murdered Franz has killed another orphan, and your idea is just to wait until the end of hostilities? As for the Austrian police, the most polite thing that can be said about them is that they are not known for their efficiency/

Madame Blanken stared at him contemptuously.

‘I suppose you have something better to suggest? You want to carry out your own investigation? You want to insult everyone and make a great hullabaloo! Where will that get you? Exactly nowhere! However, I do have something to show to you, and to Luise as well.’

She revealed a notebook that she was holding discreetly in her hand. Margont had noticed it a little earlier but had immediately forgotten about it. Now this little object had momentarily become the most important thing in the world.

‘I thought that Luise would invite you this evening and that you would take advantage of it to try to speak to me,’ she went on, still holding the notebook prisoner in her bony fingers. ‘Despite our disagreement, I would like to prove that you are wrong about me. I have always done my utmost to protect the young people in my care. As the police failed in their inquiry, I carried out my own, in my own way. And I was meticulous; in fact I am still investigating. If you had not left, Lukas, I would have let you know my initial conclusions. As I would have let you know, Luise, had you not broken off contact with me because you held me responsible for Lukas leaving. I drew up a list of all missing orphans, not just from Lesdorf but also from neighbouring orphanages. Then I tried to find out what had happened to all those young people. I wanted to follow up each case to learn if any of the disappearances was in fact a kidnapping, or worse. I counted only forty between 1803 and 1809. I couldn’t go back any earlier than 1803. After long investigation, either by me or financed by me, I was able to trace twenty-nine of them. I noted the names of those boys and girls, the dates of their disappearance, and when and where they finally reappeared, if they ever did.’

She held out the little book to Luise, who opened it, but Relmyer took it from her. The information was meticulously presented in neat scholarly handwriting. Madame Blanken was obviously happy to be able to prove her good faith. She smiled, confidently waiting for Luise and Relmyer to praise her efforts and apologise for having criticised her so often. But this was not at all what happened. Relmyer started as if struck by an invisible blow, and flared up. ‘What is this nonsense? How can you write that Mark Hasach served in the army? You write that he disappeared in December 1804 and that he was killed on 2 December 1805 at the Battle of Austerlitz, which he took part in as a soldier in the Infan-terieregiment 20 Wenzel Kaunitz. That’s impossible! I knew him: he was also at Lesdorf,’ he explained to Margont. ‘His mouth was in a terrible state, full of broken teeth. Now having bad teeth is one of the few things that prevent you joining the army, because you have to be able to tear open the canisters with your teeth in order to pour the gunpowder into the chamber of your rifle. In any case, he hated soldiers because the war killed his parents.’

Madame Blanken frowned. ‘I didn’t know any of that. What exactly are you getting at?’

Relmyer leafed rapidly through the notebook, turning the pages so fast that some of them tore.

‘And this one!’ he exclaimed. ‘Albert Lietz: disappeared in August 1805 and apparently died at the Battle of Austerlitz, in the Infan-terieregiment 29 Lindenau. I also knew him. I promise you it is impossible that he would ever join the army! Albert was the biggest coward you’ve ever met. When he was fifteen, he was afraid of boys who were twelve and he let them bully him. Do you remember, Luise? He cried at the least little thing. He ran away from anything that came near him. It’s unimaginable that he should become a soldier.’

‘That’s true,’ confirmed Luise.

‘A scaredy-cat in 1804 who transforms himself into a fighter in 1805? And here! Ernst Runkel. He disappeared in October 1805 and turns up dead at Austerlitz in the Infanterieregiment 23 Sals-burg! Ernst, a soldier! All that bigot dreamt of was becoming a

priest! He read the Bible all day long, he was in the choir, he bored us with his parables ...'

‘That’s also true,’ said Luise categorically.

This information is all false!’ concluded Relmyer. ‘So where are all these boys really?’

Madame Blanken stiffened. The muscles in her neck contracted visibly beneath the skin.

‘Lukas, you’ve taken leave of your senses! You’re so traumatised by what you went through that you see kidnappings everywhere! All that does is convince me that I’m right: we have to leave this to the police. They have the necessary skill and they, unlike you, won’t be blinded by emotion.’

‘Right, so you’re just going to abandon us all over again!’ retorted Relmyer.

Margont intervened, fearing that Madame Blanken was on the point of hitting Relmyer, or vice versa — their views of the world and of how the investigation should be carried out were like chalk and cheese. ‘Madame, where did you get your information?’ ‘From a friend, Oberstleutnant Mallis.’

‘May we talk to him?’

‘Why not? Just cross the Danube, ask for Infanterieregiment 59 Jordis and walk towards the enemy fire, you can’t miss him.’

‘Ah, I see ... Well, could we keep the notebook?’

‘I’ll give it to Luise on condition that she gives it back to me in a few weeks. I don’t want to lose it.’

‘And how was Lieutenant Colonel Mallis able to put together the information?’

‘At my request he consulted army records. The young people we take in have no family and no private means. When they run away to seek adventure, without any real plans, they quickly fall into poverty. So the army is often one of the only avenues open to them. Of the thirty boys I was able to trace, no less than ten had chosen the military. Eleven, in fact.’

‘Didn’t you say earlier that you were able to find only twenty-nine?’ queried Margont.

‘He’s the thirtieth,’ she replied, indicating Relmyer.

Relmyer was scarlet with rage. In a way, he was the living proof that there was no need to worry when a teenage boy disappeared; sooner or later, he would resurface. So his very presence gave the lie to his argument and this maddened him.

‘Poor M all is spent an enormous amount of time studying the lists of effective forces looking for all those names,’ explained Madame Blanken. ‘All those papers and ...’

Relmyer stormed off and Luise followed him in silence. She was frightened without knowing exactly what it was she feared.

Margont thanked Madame Blanken before going over to join Relmyer. He was hunched over the notebook, drinking in the pages.

‘Harald Tyler! He disappeared before me, in January 1803. H e was found dead at Austerlitz, in the Infanterieregiment 9 Czartoryski! Another one! Austerlitz is being blamed for all these disappearances!’ He skimmed the notebook faster and faster. ‘According to this notebook, five of the missing boys whose names were in army records were killed at Austerlitz. The fifth was one Karl

Fahne, of the Viennese Volunteer Chasseurs. Five deaths at Austerlitz? That’s a lot.’