“It was her idea.” Kuno was having difficulty getting the words out. “All her idea. Cursed be that evening when we were sitting together in Rheingasse. We were going to celebrate. Enjoy ourselves—oh, God—water, I’m thirsty—so thirsty.”
They handed him a mug and waited until he had drunk. It was a long time.
“We had concluded a couple of good deals,” Kuno went on, his voice stronger, “the Overstolzes, the von Mainzes, and—”
“Yes? Go on.”
“—and me. Deals with the English. And Johann—it was for Blithildis, to cheer her up. He said it was so long since she had been in company, sitting in her room all the time like the living dead, since God had taken her sight. I asked if I might bring Gerhard, he—he was my only friend. We were sitting there, drinking our wine when—when Blithildis suddenly sent the servants away and started to speak, full of hatred, laughing, crying, sobbing until she put a spell on us and blinded us too with bloody thoughts, and it was the evil from her lips that made us join in and—and Gerhard said—”
“What, for God’s sake? He said it was wrong, didn’t he?”
Kuno’s features contorted, as if he wanted to cry but couldn’t. “It was so sad. He tried to make us change our minds and we begged him to join us. Johann said he would respect Gerhard’s honest opinion as long as he would swear to remain silent.”
“And Gerhard. Could he do that?”
Kuno shook his head disconsolately. “He didn’t know what to do. He owed everything to the Church, but he would have had to betray his friends to—can’t you see, he had no choice?” Kuno held Jaspar tight, looking at him beseechingly, as if he could turn back the clock. “Whatever he did, in his own eyes it would have been betrayal. His honesty killed him. I pleaded with the others to trust him, without even knowing myself whether we could. He knew everything. What could have come over Blithildis, to imagine she could persuade Gerhard, the cathedral architect, to join in her plan?”
“What plan, Kuno?” asked Jaspar breathlessly.
Kuno seemed not to hear. He stared vacantly into space. Then his grasp loosed, he let go of Jaspar and sank back. “Finally we brought in Urquhart,” he whispered. “We clubbed together and brought the Devil to the city.”
“Urquhart?”
“He costs a pretty penny, does the Devil.” Kuno gave a coarse laugh. “William of Jülich recommended someone who’d been recommended to him. A man who kills for money. That’s all anyone knew about him. We assumed Urquhart was a hired killer, but—”
“Who killed Gerhard? Was it Urquhart?”
Kuno nodded. “Urquhart. Slaughters whatever’s in his way. A butcher. A fiend. The Berlich whore, the beggar, the two monks—”
“Monks?”
“His—witnesses.”
Jaspar threw Jacob a quick glance. “Kuno,” he said, “what is Urquhart going to do? What is the aim of the alliance? Answer me, for pity’s sake, answer me.”
But Kuno had fallen asleep.
Goddert looked around helplessly. “Should I—”
“No,” said Jaspar, “we’ll let him rest awhile. He needs sleep, there’s nothing I can do about that.”
“What time is it?” asked Richmodis.
“I don’t know. At a guess, shortly after midnight.”
“I’m bloody cold,” moaned Goddert.
“Don’t worry,” said Jaspar, “I imagine things will heat up in the course of the night.”
MATTHIAS
Johann was getting weak. None of the old Overstolz spirit there.
Matthias wrinkled his nose in disgust as he fought his way through the storm. He despised weakness and he despised Johann. That odor of sentimentality he had hated all his life! Like a mold you just couldn’t get rid of. There was always someone ready with sniveling comments on his plans. It’s wrong. It’s a sin. It’s against the law of God.
It was enough to make you want to spew.
Matthias stole quietly through the alleyways around Haymarket. A man of his rank should have been on horseback, but a rider would attract attention to himself. Even in weather like this the night watchmen would be going about their business. It was not the best moment to be seen.
He had spent the last two hours finding out everything Urquhart needed to know to put an end to this mess once and for all. Matthias was under no illusion that they could silence everyone who had heard of Gerhard’s violent death. All the better if they could, of course. He didn’t imagine the Fox and Jaspar Rodenkirchen would have gone around telling everybody and anybody, but that was pure speculation on his part. The important thing was to eliminate Kuno. If Kuno talked, then he and his new friends had time before daybreak to ruin everything. Any influential person in Cologne would believe Kuno, and he could count on leniency from his judges if he gave evidence against them. A prattling beggar or a drunken priest, on the other hand, did not represent a serious danger to the Overstolzes.
Or, to be precise, a danger to me, thought Matthias. What are the others to me? They can lead the Kones or Heinrich, Daniel or Theoderich to the block for all I care.
In a few hours it would all be over anyway.
