“Oh—oh, thank you.” He managed a smile for her, took the bowl, and set it to his lips. It was hot and did him good. It tasted of beef and vegetables. Only now did he realize how hungry he was. Greedily he emptied the bowl and held it up for the woman to take, but she had disappeared.
There was a stir outside. “The magistrates are coming,” someone shouted. Magistrates? Oh, yes, Jaspar had sent someone to wake the magistrates. Had he not specifically said they should bring Bodo Schuif, the brewer?
Jacob’s head was spinning; he wasn’t sure of anything anymore. All he could think was that Urquhart had gotten away—he hadn’t been able to drown him.
He wondered how badly injured Urquhart was. When the murderer had picked him up and rammed him against the window, he had instinctively closed his eyes against the heat. Everything had happened so quickly. Perhaps Urquhart had gotten away with a fright and no more. Jacob wasn’t even convinced it was possible to frighten Urquhart at all. His every action, even when he was enveloped in flames, indicated the workings of a coldly rational mind. Jaspar and Richmodis he had knocked to the ground; Goddert’s arm was broken. When the oil blazed up he had immediately grabbed the only one who might present a danger and had used him as a battering ram to smash his way out.
And he appeared to have escaped with his crossbow. It was nowhere to be found.
He put down the empty bowl and went to join Jaspar and Richmodis. At that moment Bodo Schuif pushed his way through the bystanders and glanced around the room. He took in Goddert and the surgeon, Jaspar, Richmodis, and Jacob. Then his eye fell on Kuno. “Holy Mother of God,” he mumbled.
“We were attacked—” Jaspar began.
Bodo nodded toward the door. “Outside. We have to talk.”
Jaspar gave him a baffled look, shrugged his shoulders, and followed Bodo out into the street. Jacob hesitated a moment, then hurried after them.
“What’ve you been up to, for God’s sake?” he heard Bodo asking Jaspar in vehement tones. He looked around, saw Jacob approaching, and waved him away.
“It’s all right,” Jaspar said. “He can hear everything.”
Bodo scrutinized Jacob dubiously. “Let’s go somewhere a bit quieter,” he said. “Quick.”
They went far enough away so no one could hear them. The wind had died down. Now there was only the rain and Jacob had stopped noticing that.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you,” Bodo barked at Jaspar. “I really don’t. Tell me it’s not true.”
“None of us knew that monster, Bodo. He came over the roof. I’ve no idea what he was after, he—”
“That’s not what this is all about. Dammit, Jaspar, I ran here as fast as I could. They’re coming to arrest you, d’you hear? They’re going to throw you in the Tower.”
“Who?” Jaspar was flabbergasted.
“Theoderich Overstolz.”
For a moment even Jaspar was speechless.
“How do you know?” he gasped.
“How do you know, how do you know! Is that all you’re worried about? The constables had already gotten me out of bed before Goddert’s neighbors turned up. I was supposed to go and meet Theoderich Overstolz in Severinstra?e. They said that, following information received, your house had been searched and a dead body found. They also said you were responsible, you’d slit open the poor bugger’s belly! Then these people turned up”—Bodo gestured in the general direction of the Brook—“and told me about all the fuss here, and again it was your name that was mentioned. For God’s sake, Jaspar, it won’t take Theoderich long to find out you’re here. Now tell me what’s been going on.”
“Listen, Bodo,” said Jaspar, as calmly as he could. “You’ve known me for ages. Am I the kind of man to go around slitting people’s bellies open?”
“Of course not. I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
“Do you remember I hinted yesterday morning that Gerhard Morart’s death might not have been an accident?”
“What’s that got to do with all this?”
“It would take me so long to explain, I might as well go and present myself at the Tower. It’s got everything to do with it, take my word for it.”
Bodo looked around nervously. “You’ll have to tell me more if I’m to help you.”
“You’ll help us? Excellent!”
“I’ll help
“Jacob here. Richmodis and Goddert. We need time.”
“And how do you think you’re going to get that?”
“Did Theoderich’s people say anything about Richmodis or Goddert being involved?”
“Nonsense. It’s just you they want. What would your relatives have to do with it?”
“All the better. Then you can do something for us. Jacob and I, we need somewhere to hide.”
“Somewhere to hide?” Bodo echoed in surprise. “Just a moment, I—”
“I was thinking of Keygasse. Your brewery.”
“But—”
“Now. Right away. No time to lose. Do we need a key or is somewhere open?”
“Are you out of your mind?” Bodo hissed. “When I said help, I meant I’d put in a good word for you.”
“Good words are no use to us.”
“Christ Almighty, Jaspar!” said Bodo despairingly. “Do you know what you’re asking? If it comes out that I hid a suspected murderer, I can say good-bye to my position as magistrate.”
“Yes, and you can say good-bye to your head, too. Do it anyway. Anything else would be a mistake.”
Bodo gasped and held his head, as if to make sure it stayed there. “Oh, damnation!” he said.
“The keys,” Jaspar repeated.
“Infernal damnation!”
“It won’t help, however often you repeat it. I give you my word I didn’t murder my servant. There’s a foul plot going on, people have died, and someone’s going to be the next if we don’t stop it.” He gave Bodo a meaningful look. “It might even be you.”
“Me? Saints preserve us, why me?”
“Because Gerhard Morart was murdered,” Jaspar whispered, “and because so far hardly anyone who knew has lived long enough to tell the tale. Now you know, too.”
Bodo shook his head in disbelief.
“Quick,” Jaspar urged. “Make up your mind what you’re going to do, but do it!”
Bodo looked at Jacob as if he could release him from the nightmare he had blundered into. Jacob shrugged his shoulders. “Jaspar’s right,” he said.
Bodo’s oath made the air turn blue. “I don’t believe it. Here I am and—oh, bugger it! The shed next to the brewery is open. There are no barrels in it at the moment, so the dogs won’t bite you. But Jaspar”—he held his fist under Jaspar’s nose—“you’re gone by tomorrow morning. I don’t care what you do then.”
Jaspar threw out his arms and, to his friend’s surprise, embraced the brewer.
“And if you’re having me on”—Bodo’s muffled voice came from the folds of Jaspar’s habit—“I’ll string you up with my own hands, and that carrot-top sidekick of yours.”
“Thank you, my friend.”
“Is that clear?”
Jaspar gave Jacob a quick glance. “What was that nice turn of phrase you had? Clear as the waters of the Rhine. Bodo, if anyone asks, we escaped just as you were about to arrest us. Keep an eye on Goddert and Richmodis, won’t you, and tell Richmodis we’re safe. Keep a good eye on them.”
“Of course.” Bodo sighed. “Of course. And I’ll carry the cathedral across the Rhine and find a wife for the pope. I must be out of my mind. You’d better clear off, before I change it.”
They trotted off, not looking around once.
Some time later, just after they had passed the convent of the White Sisters and were approaching Keygasse, Jaspar turned to Jacob and said, “Just while we get our breath back, what do you think the patricians are going to
