Germany, 1660: When a dying boy is pulled from the river with a mark crudely tattooed on his shoulder, hangman Jakob Kuisl is called upon to investigate whether witchcraft is at play in his small Bavarian town. Whispers and dark memories of witch trials and the women burned at the stake just seventy years earlier still haunt the streets of Schongau. When more children disappear and an orphan boy is found dead—marked by the same tattoo—the mounting hysteria threatens to erupt into chaos.Before the unrest forces him to torture and execute the very woman who aided in the birth of his children, Jakob must unravel the truth. With the help of his clever daughter, Magdelena, and Simon, the university-educated son of the town's physician, Jakob discovers that a devil is indeed loose in Schongau. But it may be too late to prevent bloodshed.A brilliantly detailed, fast-paced historical thriller, The Hangman's Daughter is the first novel from German television screenwriter Oliver Pötzsch, a descendent of the Kuisls, a famous Bavarian executioner clan.
The Hangman’s Daughter
A HISTORICAL NOVEL
OLIVER PÖTZSCH
The Hangman’s Daughter
A HISTORICAL NOVEL
Translated by
LEE CHADEAYNE
The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious.
Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.
DRAMATIS PERSONAE
JAKOB KUISL, the hangman of Schongau
SIMON FRONWIESER, the town physician’s son
MAGDALENA KUISL, the hangman’s daughter
ANNA MARIA KUISL, the hangman’s wife
THE KUISL TWINS, Georg and Barbara
BONIFAZ FRONWIESER, the town physician
MARTHA STECHLIN, midwife
JOSEF GRIMMER, wagon driver
GEORG RIEGG, wagon driver
KONRAD WEBER, parish priest
KATHARINA DAUBENBERGER, midwife from Peiting
RESL, serving maid at the Goldener Stern Inn
MARTIN HUEBER, wagon driver from Augsburg
FRANZ STRASSER, innkeeper in Altenstadt
CLEMENS KRATZ, grocer
AGATHE KRATZ, the grocer’s wife
MARIA SCHREEVOGL, the alderman’s wife
COUNT WOLF DIETRICH VON SANDIZELL, the secretary of the Duke-Elector of Bavaria
JOHANN LECHNER, court clerk
KARL SEMER, presiding burgomaster and landlord of the Goldener Stern Inn
MATTHIAS AUGUSTIN, member of the inner council
MATTHIAS HOLZHOFER, burgomaster
JOHANN PÜCHNER, burgomaster
WILHELM HARDENBERG, superintendent of the Holy Ghost almshouse
JAKOB SCHREEVOGL, stovemaker and trial witness
MICHAEL BERCHTHOLDT, baker and trial witness
GEORG AUGUSTIN, wagon driver and trial witness
SOPHIE DANGLER, ward of linen weaver Andreas Dangler
ANTON KRATZ, ward of grocer Clemens Kratz
CLARA SCHREEVOGL, ward of alderman Jakob Schreevogl
JOHANNES STRASSER, ward of innkeeper Franz Strasser in Altenstadt
PETER GRIMMER, son of Josef Grimmer, mother deceased
CHRISTIAN BRAUNSCHWEIGER, ANDRÉ PIRKHOFER, HANS HOHENLEITNER, CHRISTOPH HOLZAPFEL
PROLOGUE
SCHONGAU
OCTOBER 12, A.D. 1624
OCTOBER 12 WAS A GOOD DAY FOR A KILLING. IT had rained all week, but on this Friday, after the church fair, our good Lord was in a kindlier mood. Though autumn had already come, the sun was shining brightly on that part of Bavaria they call the Pfaffenwinkel—the priests’ corner—and merry noise and laughter could be heard from the town. Drums rumbled, cymbals clanged, and somewhere a fiddle was playing. The aroma of deep-fried doughnuts and roasted meat drifted down to the foul-smelling tanners’ quarter. Yes, it was going to be a lovely execution.
Jakob Kuisl was standing in the main room, which was bathed in light, trying to wake up his father. The bailiff had called on them twice already, and there was no way he’d be able to send him away a third time. The hangman of Schongau sat bent over, his head lying on a table and his long straggly hair floating in a puddle of beer and cheap brandy. He was snoring, and at times he made twitching movements in his sleep.
Jakob bent down to his father’s ear. He smelled a mix of alcohol and sweat. The sweat of fear. His father always smelled like that before executions. A moderate drinker otherwise, he began to drink heavily as soon as the death sentence had been pronounced. He didn’t eat; he hardly talked. At night he often woke up screaming and drenched in perspiration. The two days immediately before the execution there was no use talking to him. Katharina, his wife, knew that and would move to her sister-in-law’s with the children. Jakob, however, had to stay behind, as he was his father’s eldest son and apprentice.
“We’ve got to go! The bailiff’s waiting.”
Jakob whispered at first, then he talked louder, and by now he was screaming. Finally the snoring colossus stirred.
Johannes Kuisl stared at his son with bloodshot eyes. His skin was the color of old, crusty bread dough; his black, straggly beard was still sticky with last night’s barley broth. He rubbed his face with his long, almost clawlike fingers. Then he rose to his full height of almost six feet. His huge body swayed, and it seemed for a moment that he’d fall over again. Then, however, Johannes Kuisl found his balance and stood up straight.
