Written by Guy, Sun Sep 27 17:10:14 US/Pacific 1998
Chapter 5
The "Nachstenliebe" inn, Polach, February 13th, 1998, 11:35 a.m.
Jürgen Möelendorff, homicide investigator with the Munich Kriminalpolizei, climbed out of his Volkswagen and tilted his face to the rain. He was a good looking 49-year-old man with blond hair and grey eyes that matched the sky. Jürgen looked at his watch. It was just after half past eleven in the morning.
Drawn up on the roadside next to the Bavarian inn were three other patrol cars. They were empty. He looked around fpor the patrolmen, and saw them sheltering by the inn's entrance. On a nearby log sat a young officer in a black uniform. His elbows were resting on his knees, hands pressed against the sides of his head.
Jürgen took a last draw on his cigarette and flicked it away. As he approached the entrance, the young policeman stood and addressed him.
-"Excuse me, Sir, no one is allowed in".
Jürgen retrieved his ID and showed it to the him.
-"I am sorry, Herr Sturmbann Sir. I didn't know it was you. Constable Hermann is expecting you".
-"Your name, officer?" Jürgen had a soft voice.
-"Shültze Kraus, Herr Sturmbann Möelendorff", the policeman replied, eager to show respect.
It was raining harder now. Water trickled down the back of Jürgen's neck. He did not notice. For him, every case, however routine, held promise of adventure.
-"Show me the way in, Kraus".
As they were walking their way to the second floor, the homicide investigator asked his counterpart.
-"What about all the other guests?"
-"As soon as the body was discovered, we evacuated all the guests. There weren't many though. Officer Gotenland is now interrogating them, in case they'd heard or seen something suspicious".
-"Young man", Jürgen codly replied, "they are all potential suspects. Never forget that rule".
The police officer simply nodded.
-"Here we are, sir".
Jürgen flung open the door of the room, and was hit by a gust of cold air from the open window.
-"Who the hell opened that window?" He yelled.
-"Morning, Jürgen!" The call came from a white bearded officer.
-"Nice to see you old fellow", the investigator shook Constable Hermann's hand. "Have you decided to open the window because of the body's smell?"
-"Not at all", Hermann smiled, "you know I like the smell of bodies. It always reminds me of my wife's perfume".
-"I haven't seen her for years. Be sure to give me the name of the perfume".
-"Well, let's get back to business. We didn't touch the window. We found it that way".
-"Who discovered the body?"
-"The innkeeper, Hugo Spiedle. You probably know him".
-"Yes, I know the guy. He used to date my sister back at school. I thought that his father was the innkeeper".
-"When did you move to Munich?"
-"Twenty-two years ago, just after I graduated from the academy".
-"Well, Arthur Spiedle died in 1988 and Hugo has been in charge of the business ever since".
-"I understand. Pray go on".
-"According to Hugo, a man arrived to the inn by half past eleven, last night. Hugo led him to this very room. the man hardly spoke. He just said his name was Berger and that he was coming from Shäyen".
-"From where? I've never heard of the place before".
-"Sure you haven't. It doesn't exist".
-"How strange".
-"Indeed", the Constable seemed puzzled for a while, then he continued. "Hugo went to sleep by midnight and woke up at half past six in the morning. His wife and he both prepared the dining room for breakfast, which is always served from 8:00 to 10:00 a.m. At twenty past ten, Berger still didn't show up to breakfast. Hugo decided to call him. He went upstairs and knocked on his door, but there was no answer. Worried, he tried to open the door. It was unlocked. The window was wide open and the bed undisturbed. Because of the chilling air of the morning, he wasn't hit by the smell of the body. Hugo went to the bathroom and that's where he found him. He immediately called me and I came at once".
-"I suppose you first thought it was suicide".
-"Yes", the Constable nodded. "When I arrived to the inn, all the guests were in the reception room. One of them, Rinberg his name, lodging in room number 10, was particularly excited. He told me he had found a small note slid under his door. He believed it had been written by our mysterious Berger. After I read it, I called the police station of Belzen (it's got the largest police station's facilities in the area) and asked for some assistance. Then I called you right away, since you guys in Munich are in charge of this area".
-"Let me see the body first, and then I'll have a look on the note".
Hermann nodded and showed the investigator the way to the bathroom. A grey hair man in a puffy blue-black parka with a fur collar stood next to the bathtub.
-"Good morning, Jürgen".
-"Good morning, Hans". Hans Eisler had been Munich Polizei's pathologist for many years. Jürgen respected him for his quick-mind and professionalism.
-"Time to get wet", Eisler jerked away, pointing at the bathtub. He gave Jürgen a glare.
-"Save your barrack-room humour for those who appreciate it", the investigator laughed.
-"Koth, come over here!" Hermann yelled.
-"Who is he?" Jürgen asked.
-"He's our police photographer".
A young thin man entered the bathroom.
-"Hello everyone", he greeted them. "If you want me to take a nice picture of you three, just tell so".
-"Shut up, Koth", Hermann said, "we are in the middle of an investigation here".
Jürgen ignored the photographer and slithered down the bathtub to inspect the corpse. It was an old man's body- cold, thin and shockingly white. From a distance, it could have been an alabaster statue dumped in the water. The corpse's arms flung wide, head titled back. One eye was screwed shut, the other squinted balefully at the ceiling. At this moment, the flash of the camera popped, freezing the scene for an instant.
-"I want another picture here", Jürgen pointed, "and another one here". The camera flashed twice more.
Jürgen bent down and grasped the body under the armpits. The flesh was hard, like cold rubbe, and slippery. In the freezing water, the genitals had shrivelled to a tiny clutch of white eggs in a nest of white pubic hair.
-"Herr Doctor. Your opinion please".
With a slight irritation, Eisler daintily stepped forward, removing the glove from one hand. He pressed hard on the chest with his fist. Water gushed from the mouth and bubbled out of the nostrils.
-"Rigor mortis fairly advanced. Dead twelve hours. Maybe less. His neck is broken". He pulled his glove back on. An engine rattled somewhere through the window behind them.
-"The ambulance", said Hermann, "they take their time".
-"What else have you learnt, Herr Doctor?" Jürgen continued.
-"Well, at first view, it looks pretty much like suicide. If you look at the bottom of the bathtub, you'll notice a sponge. After a short examination of the palm of right foot, I discovered a slight rubbing. Consequently, my first impression was that the poor man slid and broke his neck. However, I then made another discovery. Jürgen, if you don't mind, examine the victim's face and tell me what you see".
The investigator knelt down and looked at the dead's face. After a while, he stood up, smiling with arrogance.
-"The mouth isn't it, Herr Doctor?"
-"Correct", Eisler smiled, "more precisely the lips".
-"What about them?" Hermann asked. "Beside the fact that they turned a little purple from the cold of the water, I can't see anything wrong".
-"Come on old man", Jürgen encouraged him, "try once more".
Hermann, fully concentrated, stepped forward.
-"Ha!" He ejaculated. "I see it now. It seems to me that our victim bit his lips".
-"He bit his lips quite brutally as if he was subjected to an immense suffering".
-"But couldn't it result from the break of the neck", the photographer asked, "some kind of...how do you call it...reflex?"
-"Post-mortem convulsion. Yes, you are correct. That's why I examined the lips very carefully. I discovered several bruises and scratches around the lips. As far as I am concerned, someone put his hand on the victim's mouth and then held his head under the water until the poor fellow died. Only then, he broke the man's neck, rubbed the palm of his right foot with the sponge and put it in the bathtub to make us believe the old man had slid. I hope to find some skin or fingernails tissues near the lips. However, I can't be certain of all that until I am carrying out the autopsy".
Jürgen gestured to Koth.
-"Take two more pictures. One of the whole face and the other of the lips".
Looking down at the corpse, Jürgen lit a cigarette. Then he stared into the single open eye. He stayed that way a long while. The camera flashed twice.
-"Thank you, Koth", Jürgen said, then he turned to the Constable. "Let's examine the rest of the room". Hermann nodded and both men left the bathroom.
The investigator first examined the door.
-"It doesn't look breached", Jürgen remarked, "but perhaps the victim forgot to lock the door. Even Hugo found the door unlocked".
-"It could also be the work of a professional that didn't leave any trace of the breach".
-"That's right", the investigator acknowledged. "Have you already looked at the window?"
-"Yes. It's hard to tell whether the killer came in from the window or not. It doesn't seem breached. However, it is wide open. My men didn't find any footprint outside on the mud or on the wall. But they are still working on it".
Jürgen approached the window and peered outside.
-"It's not very high. A professional could have escaped through the window, thus avoiding to cross the corridor".
Hermann nodded approvingly.
-"Make sure to tell me if your men find any footprint at all".
-"Of course".
-"Koth", Jürgen turned to the photographer, who stood apart. "Take some picture of the door and the window. Then go outside and take another set of shots of the wall and the mud".
-"Yes, Sir".
Once the photographer left, Jürgen turned to the Constable.
-"Did Hugo tell you if something had been disturbed in the room?"
-"I asked him. Nothing had been disturbed or stolen. Despite the bathroom, the room looks quite the same".
-"I see. Perhaps the victim had something that the killer wanted. Where is the letter you told me about?"
-"Right here". Hermann retrieved the letter and handed it to Jürgen. The investigator read it carefully.
-"Very interesting", he remarked, putting the note in his left pocket. "So the victim was a monk at the monastery of Quirnheim".
-"Yes. Father Karel his name. Apparently he was very afraid. The note is addressed to the Schattenjager".
-"The Schattenjager?" The investigator seemed puzzled. "Who is it?"
-"Well my dear friend. You've been away from your hometown much too long".
-"What do you mean?"
-"Don't you remember the legend of the Schattenjagers. They are a so-called secret order founded hundreds of years ago".
-"Yes. Now I remember. My parents used to tell me about some noble knights, fighting against the evil forces, when I was a child".
-"That's it", Hermann smiled, "I don't believe in all this nonsense, but many people do. Superstition, you know".
-"And this order still exist?"
-"I know there is some kind of new Schattenjager. An American. My cousin Gustav told me so. Apparently the Schattenjager solved the case of the Werewolf Killings, last year".
-"Yes, I've heard about that case. A colleague of mine, inspector Lebe, was in charge of it. However, I've never heard that a Schattenjager was involved in catching the killer".
-"Well, according to Gustav and his friends, he was".
-"And where can we find this American?"
-"He's living in Rittersberg. It's a small village, not far away from here".
-"My dear Hermann", Jürgen said, "we should pay a visit to the Schattenjager".
Castle of Rittersberg, Rittersberg, Bavaria, February 13th, 1998, 13:40
Jürgen was at the wheel of his Volkswagen, following the carving path high above the lake. Sometimes the view was hidden by the trees. Then he would round a bend, or the forest would thin, and he would see the water again.
-"What a nice view", Hermann remarked, "I love this part of the country. I would like to be buried right here, next to the lake".
-"My dear friend, if you keep on eating and drinking so much, you'll soon join the realm of death".
-"What are you talking about? I've changed, you know".
-"Sure you have", Jürgen replied sarcastically.
-"I'm serious. I'm not the guy I used to be".
The investigator had the window wound down, his arm resting on the still, the breeze plucking at his sleeve. On either side, the bare branches of the trees were flecked with snow.
Within ten minutes, they reached Rittersberg. This was a tourist spot: a small inn, a picturesque town, a church and the impressive castle.
-"What a huge castle!" Hermann said.
-"Are the Schattenjagers pretty rich?"
-"Well, they were a rather wealthy order in the past. But many of them died and part of the family immigrated to the United States. They mainly depend on donations and on some large investments they've got in Munich".
-"Who gave you all this information?"
-"My cousin's wife is the secretary of the Schattenjagers' Cabinet in Munich".
-"Oh, I see".
Jürgen parked along a stone bridge, leading to the castle's entrance.
-"I hope you haven't lost the precious letter" Hermann said.
-"Of course not. I'm a professional, not like you".
-"Don't underestimate your rural colleague. It's true we don't have to cope with so many crimes like you guys in Munich, but we manage to do just fine with what we've got".
-"I know, old friend. Spare the usual lecture with me".
Saying that, the investigator knocked on the heavy wooden door of the castle. After a while, an attractive blond woman emerged from the mansion.
-"Guten Tag. What can I do for you gentlemen?"
-"Guten Tag", fräulein. My name is Jürgen Moelendorff. I am a homicide investigator with the Munich Kriminalpolizei. This is Constable Bahn Hermann. He's with Polach police department".
-"Guten Tag", Hermann greeted the young fräulein.
-"We are investigating the murder of a man called Father Karel. We believe the Schattenjager knew the poor fellow. Could you tell the Schattenjager that we are here?"
-"Your identification, please".
Jürgen and Hermann handed her their ID's. Gerde studied it and returned it.
-"Herr Knight is at home", she seemed somewhat puzzled, "follow me, please".
The entrance to the castle seemed to be guarded by a wild dragon-like creature, which artistically created the banister at the top of a great spiral staircase. The walls and ceiling of the entering-room were completely oak-panelled and the furniture was also made of solid oak. Above the panelling, the walls were decorated with a cycle of painting, illustrating some members of the Schattenjager Order. A centerpiece of gilded bronze on a table showed Siegfried fighting the dragon. Jürgen had already seen such a magnificent item made by the well-known Eduard Wollenweber in 1885 in one of King Ludwig's castles.
-"What an intriguing place", Hermann exclaimed.
-"Is this part of the castle very ancient?" Jürgen asked.
-"Actually, this room is part of the original castle that was built at the beginning of the 13th century. The second and the third floors, as well as the west wing were built much later. Around the beginning and mid 14th century".
-"Very interesting".
-"Let me show you the way to the writing room, please".
The three of them climbed up the stairs and entered the second room on the left.
-"Would you be kind enough to wait here. Herr Knight will join you shortly".
-"By all means", Jürgen answered.
As soon as Gerde left, Hermann whispered.
-"A charming woman, don't you think?"
The investigator simply nodded, looking around him. Furnished with green and gold fabrics, the writing room was decorated with scenes from the life of the knight Tannhäuser. Together with the high oak panelling and the built-in furniture, they formed an unbroken, warm toned wall covering under the richly carved wooden ceiling, and hermatically cut off the interior from the outside world.
-"The scenes were painted by Joseph Aigner", came a voice from behind.
Both men turned to the young man, standing by the door. He was tall, handsome with long brown hair falling on his shoulders.
-"Like all the murals in the rooms, they were painted on coarse canvas with fringes and braiding to give the impression of tapestries".
-"They are simply beautiful", Jürgen remarked.
The young man approached them and shook their hands.
-"My name is Gabriel Knight. Welcome to my castle. Pardon me, but I hardly speak German". The two men introduced themselves once more.
-"We both speak English fluently", Hermann said.
-"That's good. Have a seat gentlemen, be my guests. Would you like to have something to drink?"
-"I'll have a glass of water, please", Jürgen said.
-"What about you, Constable?"
-"If you don't mind, Herr Knight, I'll have a whisky-soda. We went throught some difficult this morning".
-"By all means". Gabriel turned around, yelling: "Gerde, could we have two glasses of water and one whisky-soda, please?" Then he turned back to the two men. "So gentlemen, how can I assist you?"
-"Herr Knight, the matter is very serious. We are investigating the murder of a monk called Father Karel".
-"Never heard of the man".
-"Oh", Hermann said with disappointment, "we thought that you knew him".
-"How come?"
-"Let me explain it to you, Herr Knight", Jürgen said. "Father Karel was found dead in the bathtube of Polach's inn. He had registered at the inn yesterday night under the name of Berger. Constable Hermann first considered it as a suicide or merely an accident. But with the assistance of our pathologist, we came to the conclusion that the monk was murdered".
-"How?"
-"We think someone drowned him and then broke his neck to make us believe it was an accident. However, some bruises covered his mouth and lips. Therefore, we believe that the killer covered the monk's mouth and held his head under the surface of the water. We hope to find some skin's tissues or fingernails of the killer".
-"I see", Gabriel simply replied.
-"Strangely enough, the door wasn't breached. In fact, it was unlocked when the innkeeper entered the room. Moreover, the window was wide open. Our men are still looking for foot prints near the wall, outside".
-"It's all very interesting, but what does it have to do with me?"
-"One of the guests of the inn, lodging in the room just next to Father Karel's one, found a note that had been slid under his door. He gave it to Constable Hermann. This note, Herr Knight, concerns you".
At that moment, Gerde entered the writing room, holding a tray with some drinks.
-"The two glasses of water are for Herr Moelendorff and myself. The whisky-soda is for Constable Hermann". Then he turned to the investigator. "Could I see the note, please".
-"Of course", Jürgen replied, handing it to Gabriel.
The young man opened the note and read:
"My name is Father Karel. I am a monk at the monastery of the Revelation in Quirnheim. I believe that I am now facing a great danger. Indeed, I have discovered a terrible conspiracy that threatens not only Germany, but the rest of the world as well. I am writing this short note in case something happens to me. It is mainly addressed to the Schattenjager, whose assistance I require in a matter of utmost urgency. Reading the diary that I sent him will put him on the good trail. God helps us all".
-"What do you make of the note?" Jürgen asked.
-"First of all", Gabriel replied, "the writing is clean and precise, an educated hand. Words are embossed deeply in the hearty note, the pen gripped tightly, the hand pressed firmly; it was inscribed in haste and the urgency looks genuine".
-"Very impressive, Herr Knight", Hermann remarked.
-"I had studied journalism", Gabriel smiled, "and some of the teachers taught us writing-analyse".
-"You've never heard of the man before?" Jürgen asked. "Are you sure?"
-"I told you. I've never seen him. I'm sorry".
-"Haven't you received the diary mentioned in the note?"
-"Frankly gentlemen, I've no idea". Then he turned to Gerde who was standing behind him all that time. "Have we already received the mail?"
-"Oh", the young woman ejaculated, "I've completely forgot about it. Let me fetch it for you". Saying that she left the room. Shortly afterwards, Gerde came back, holding an envelope.
-"Here it is, Gabriel", she said, handing the envelope to him. "I'm really sorry I didn't five it to you earlier".
-"No harm done, Gerde".
The envelope was large and square. Only his home address was written on it. He held it to the light; the bond was thick, yielding no silhouette. It looked perfectly ordinary. Reaching into the drawer, Gabriel retrieved a sharp knife and, with surgical exactness, pierced and opened the envelope. A leather black diary slipped smoothly into his hand.
-"Gentlemen", he finally said, "I think this is it!"
He opened the diary and examined the front page. A short sentence was written on it: "Der Tagebuch von Markus Wald: 1825".
"It's a diary, just as the monk says in the note", Gabriel said.
The investigator stood up and approached the Schattenjager.
-"Could I see it, Herr Knight?" He asked.
-"Of course. I don't speak German anyway".
Jürgen took the diary and examined it very carefully.
-"What can you tell us about it?" Hermann asked.
-"Well, as you can see, it's a black leather diary. On the front page, it's written: the journal of Markus Wald- 1825. It's appears to be genuine. However, I'm not an expert".
-"Who was Markus Wald?" Gabriel inquired.
-"Let me see", Jürgen simply replied.
As he was reading the diary, the Schattenjager turned to the Constable.
-"Would you like to have more Whisky-soda, Constable?"
Hermann looked at the empty glass he was hodling. "I am on service, Herr Knight".
-"I fully understand, Constable".
-"Nevertheless", Hermann quickly added, "I don't think another glass of this fine Whisky would do me much harm".
-"Of course, Constabel", Gabriel smiled. He whispered something to Gerde's ear, and then turned to the investigator. "So, can you tell us more about this mysterious author?"
-"According to the diary, Markus Wald was an old farmer, living in Quirnheim in the 19th century. He was in charge of the supply of food and other goods to the monastery of the Revelation".
-"That's where Father Karel came from, isn't it?" Gabriel asked.
-"That's it", Hermann answered, while sipping the Whisky-soda that Gerde had just brought him.
-"That's interesting", Jürgen murmured.
-"Pray, tell us", the Schattenjager urged the investigator.
-"It seems Markus came by an old manuscript written in the 16th century by a monk called Father Zadoch".
-"The 16th century?" Gabriel exclaimed.
-"What was the manuscript about?" Hermann asked.
-"It said a Bavarian Count, called Ulrich Von Quirnheim, had founded a secret order within the monastery walls in 1191".
-"Did he create it alone?" The Schattenjager asked.
-"Let me have a look", Jürgen replied, perusing the diary. "Here it is. The order was set up by Ulrich with the assistance of several Bavarian Lords as well as a French nobleman, called Charles de Rochefort. The events leading to the foundation of the order are still unclear to me".
-"That's all you can get from the diary right now?" Hermann asked.
-"I'm afraid so. I should read it all first".
-"That's a good idea", Gabriel remarked.
The investigator put the diary carefully in one of his pockets and then turned to the Schattenjager.
-"Constable Hermann and I are planning to go to Quirnheim later today. But first we'll stop by the morgue to see what are the pathologist's conclusions. If you don't mind, Herr Knight, we would be most honoured to enjoy your company on our journey to Quirnheim".
-"I'll be delighted to assist you. Would you like me to come with you straight away?"
-"No", Jürgen replied. "We shall pick you up once we finish with the pathologist, if you don't mind of course".
-"Not at all, gentlemen. I shall be looking forward to seeing you".
The three men shook hands and the guests left the reading-room. Shortly afterwards, Gerde entered the room, looking pretty excited.
-"So, Gabriel? A new adventure?"
-"Yes, Gerde, and a very intriguing one. I'm glad that they are gone now. It's very exhausting to speak like a 'gentleman from the old school'. I couldn't have kept on talking like that any longer".
-"But it's worth all the money we spent on that private teacher, Herr Konhard. Wolfgang had always said that a good Schattenjager should always speack like a nobleman. I particularly enjoyed your 'note-act'. Where have you learnt all that information about writing-analysis?"
-"I told them I had some lectures about the subject at University. The fact is, I was merely guessing. They told me that the monk had slid the note under his neighbour's door. They then added he had been found drowned in his bathtub. Consequently, I arrived to the obvious conclusion the poor chap had heard some suspicious noise, perhaps had even seen someone. Thus the monk had decided to hide the note, and had slid it under the door of the room next to his. But I couldn't explain it like that, I had to 'enjoliver la chose' as the French say. Fortunately enough, I had spend some time reading Conan Doyle's novels when I was young. Sherlock Holmes has always been my source of inspiration".
-"Unbelievable", Gerde exclaimed.
-"Elementary, my dear Watson", Gabriel smiled. Then he turned to the table that was standing by the window.
-"What are you doing, Gabriel?"
-"I just want to call Gracie. You know I'm not keen about all the historical side of my adventures. I keep on forgetting names and mixing-up dates. Moreover, I've never heard about either Quirnheim or its monastery".
Gerde nodded approvingly and left the room. Gabiel took the receiver and dialled a number. After a while he could hear Grace's sleepy voice.
-"Mmm... yes?"
-"Gracie?"
-"Gabriel, is that you?"
-"Yes, sweetie. How are you?"
-"Are you nuts Gabe? Are you calling me in the middle of the night just to ask this silly question?
-"Not really".
-"Then spill it up, I want to go back to bed".
-"I'm on a new case, Gracie".
She didn't say a thing, and the reply came after a long while.
-"A new case? What is it about?"
-"It's rather confusing. An old monk sent me a mysterious diary dated from the 19th century and based on some manuscript from the 16th century. Then he got killed, murdered actually, and two men paid me a visit. A homicide investigator and a Constable from Polach (that's the town where the monk was murdered). In fact the monk left a note saying he had sent me the diary".
-"Sounds very intriguing".
-"I want you to do some research for me".
-"How come you don't ask Gerde first?"
-"Stop that, Gracie. I thought we had already settled it down".
-"Ok. Forget it, Gabe. Just what do you want me to find exactly?"
-"The diary mentioned an old town called Quirnheim. Apparently a secret order was founded there in 1191 by a chap called Ulrich Von Quirnheim. If I'm not mistaken, some other Bavarian Knights were involved, and a French guy as well. His name was...I can't recall it right now".
-"How do you expect me to carry out a research here, if you don't even remember the important names properly".
-"Just a sec, Gracie. Let me think it over".
-"Let see. You said he was French, right? Was it Pierre? Philip? Norbert? Jean? Henry? Louis or perhaps Charles?"
-"That's it!" Gabriel ejaculated. "His name was Charles. Charles de Rochefort, actually".
-"Ok Gabe. I've got it down. I'll call Professor Barclay, first thing tomorrow morning".
-"Thanks, Gracie. You're the greatest".
-"Ya. I know. Good night, Gabe".
-"Sweet dreams".
Gabriel replaced the receiver and left the reading room. Once outside, he yelled: "Gerde, tell me as soon as they come back!"
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