A huge beech tree waved in the breeze above Simon. Its green leaves were rustling, birds were chirping, and the hum of insects filled the air. The medicus took a deep breath and felt at one with the world. All at once, however, a raucous noise clashed with the pleasant sounds of nature. A huge saw seemed to be cutting through the ancient beech trunk. The tree began to sway, its enormous bulk threatening to topple at any moment and bury the medicus beneath it. Then, with an earsplitting crash, the beech fell to the ground. Simon awoke with a shout, opened his eyes, and realized he’d just been dreaming. No blue summer sky spread out over him, only the sooty ceiling of the Whale. Yet the noise persisted.
Simon turned on his side to see Magdalena lying on her back next to him, snoring like a drunken sailor. He wrinkled his nose. The hangman’s daughter not only snored like a drunken sailor, she smelled like one, too. Her mouth gaped open, and a thin string of saliva had formed in one corner. The medicus couldn’t help but grin. If the little Venetian could see his
Simon sat bolt upright and looked over at the other side of the bed. With relief, he found he was alone with Magdalena. Nevertheless, the very idea that Silvio might have taken Magdalena off to bed while Simon slept like an infant beside them made his blood boil. Who could say what had already happened between them? Simon knew from personal experience what men were capable of when alcohol turned girls silly and weak. He closed his eyes and suppressed his worst imaginings.
When he climbed out of bed, he felt a sharp, throbbing pain in his right ankle. In a flash he remembered how they’d broken into the bathhouse the night before and just barely made it out of the cellar. Cursing softly, he rubbed some arnica ointment on his swollen foot and wrapped it gently in a piece of linen. Then he dressed carefully. Fortunately, in the bag he managed to hang on to after being chased through the market square he discovered a fresh shirt and an only slightly soiled jacket among his medical instruments. He’d already given his trousers a quick, makeshift cleaning the night before with a cake of bone soap; he’d have to wear this outfit around Regensburg for the coming weeks-a prospect especially distasteful to him when he thought about how smartly dressed the little Venetian had been last night. Simon could only hope the bruises on his face had faded some in the meanwhile. In his present condition he no doubt resembled a small but dangerous barroom brawler.
Without waking the snoring Magdalena, he hobbled out of the bedchamber and down to the empty taproom, where he poured himself a mug of watery beer and found a bowl with stale pieces of leftover bread. Two drunks were dozing on the bench by the stove, and in front of a steaming pot sat someone Simon didn’t recognize at first: the Regensburg raftmaster they’d met the day before at the docks.
Karl Gessner smiled and motioned for Simon to come closer.
“Ah, the little quack from the raft landing! I knew we’d meet again soon.” His smile immediately vanished. “Excuse me, I’m tactless. Right now you surely have enough worries.” He pushed the pot of lentil soup to the middle of the table so the medicus could help himself.
“This double murder… was a heavy blow for the both of us,” Simon said hesitantly, dunking his bread crust into the soup. “We thought perhaps Hofmann would give me a job. We-we wanted to make a new beginning here. And then this!” He shook his head. “Now they’ve taken Magdalena’s father into custody because they think he’s the one who did it. Ludicrous!”
“And? What do you intend to do now?”
Simon dunked another crust of bread into the soup and swallowed before answering. “For the time being we’ll probably stay here at the Whale. There must be some way to prove that Magdalena’s father is innocent. The murder in the bathhouse…” He paused because he wasn’t certain how much he could trust the raftmaster. After a while he continued in a soft voice. “You seem to know your way around Regensburg. Do you have any idea who might be behind this murder? Something about it just isn’t right. Yesterday the house was still under guard, as if it concealed some dark secret. Do you have any advice?”
Gessner shrugged. “You both certainly know by now that the house burned to the ground last night. If there was anything of interest inside it, nothing is left of it now.”
“But did you happen to hear anything before that?” Simon was grasping at straws. “Something, anything, that might exonerate Magdalena’s father?”
Gessner looked at him sympathetically. “I’m sorry. As raftmaster, I sit on the Outer Council, but with regard to the bathhouse murders I’m more or less powerless. That’s someone else’s responsibility. I know only that Kuisl will be put on trial soon.” Falling silent, he poked around in his soup, but Simon could sense that Gessner had something more to say.
“The world is unjust-that’s just the way it is,” the raftmaster finally added. “And often it’s the wrong man who suffers. But it’s not for you to decide what’s good and what’s right.”
Simon looked at Gessner and frowned. “What are you trying to say?”
Gessner sopped up the last bit of soup with the bread and stood up. “Be sensible and don’t get mixed up in things that are much bigger than you may be prepared to handle. There’s still time for you to return home. A good day to you, and greetings to your girl.” He placed a copper coin on the table, bowed slightly, and disappeared out the door without another word.
Simon sat for a while thinking about Gessner’s final words. What did the raftmaster mean when he said they oughtn’t to get mixed up in things? What was going on behind the scenes?
Finally the medicus gave up. If there was anything to be learned, he certainly wasn’t going to learn it sitting here all by himself in some cheap tavern. With a sigh, he headed out the door and into the blinding morning sun. He needed fresh air to get his mind off all this, even if his foot was still throbbing. The events of the previous day kept running through his mind. Obviously someone had set a trap for the Schongau hangman-but who, and why? Their visit to the bathhouse yesterday made it clear that someone had already been there looking for something. And that someone had followed them, locked them in the basement, and tried to burn them alive.
Because they had discovered something?
But what? Why had this arsonist tried to kill them, and what did any of it have to do with the plot against Magdalena’s father?
Simon was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice he was approaching the cathedral square. Only after a few people had bumped into him did he think to look up, startled. A few peddlers had already set up their stalls, and people were streaming out of the main church portal after early mass. Many, wearing serious expressions, were deeply engaged in discussions about the fire the night before, which had destroyed so many homes and possessions. Each one seemed eager to outdo the others with gruesome, detailed stories. Simon couldn’t help but think of an old saying:
A sudden rolling drumbeat sounded across the plaza, and two guards approached from the right. One beat an old military drum while the other held a parchment in his hand. As a crowd began to gather, one guard broke the seal and began to read in a booming voice.
“Citizens of Regensburg, lend an ear! A fire broke out in our beautiful city yester eve, destroying three dozen homes. Lives, too, were lost. Some say the devil himself is among us, along with his playmate.” Whispers went up among the crowd as it eagerly awaited the grisly details. After a dramatic pause the crier continued:
“The city council is pleased to inform all citizens that it was not the devil who set the fire, but it was a foul deed by the hand of man. Two persons who were seen in the Wei?gerbergraben area last night are under strong suspicion of having committed this dastardly crime. Persons in question are a little man with a limp and a black- haired girl in a coarse linen skirt…”
What followed was a detailed description of the two suspects. The blood drained from Simon’s face as he listened. The watchmen were looking for him and Magdalena! Perhaps someone in the cathedral square had recognized him already! In fact, a murmur was passing softly through the crowd, and someone rose and approached the guard, pointing toward the river in the approximate direction of the Whale. Simon backed up against the wall of a nearby building and peered into a small lane behind it that branched into a labyrinth of ever-narrower alleys. A curious older couple stared down at him from a second-story window, so in spite of his swollen ankle, Simon hurried away, limping. He had to warn Magdalena as fast as possible! He only hoped it wasn’t already too late.
Just as he was about to turn the corner, he heard a voice call to him from a dark entryway: “If it’s through
