Alchemy, p.38
Alchemy, page 38
‘And where is she now?’
‘In the care of a woman called Huss in Golden Lane. I thought Jan wouldn’t look there. That was before I knew Jan wouldn’t be looking anywhere.’
‘And the Danish girl?’
‘Safe.’
‘I must see how Magda is. She’ll need medical attention.’
‘Keep away from the Winged Horse, then,’ I said. ‘People will be asking questions.’
He drummed his fingertips on the table, thinking. ‘Actually, that might be a good reason for me to look in. Offer a professional opinion on Jan’s death. The man was overweight and drank too much – bound to put a strain on the heart. No need for anyone to suspect foul play. None of the others who drank the schnapps were affected?’
‘No – although most of them had left by the time Jan was taken ill, so I can’t be certain. But I don’t think so. I drank a little and I feel fine. Apart from all the running and climbing on roofs.’
‘Then it was not in the bottle, whatever she gave him.’
‘The schnapps was the only thing she poured for us in separate glasses. She must have put it directly in his. I’d be willing to bet that whatever the Spaniards took away in that silver flask is not Bartos’s elixir.’
‘You think Greta substituted it?’ His eyes widened.
‘More likely Magda. She’d have had the opportunity when Sukie first came to her, knowing Jan would have the flask from the child by force eventually. I told her the potion was dangerous.’
An odd look passed across his face. ‘She always was sharp as a needle. That brute knew she was cleverer than him and hated her for it.’ His fists clenched at his sides and I realised with a sudden jolt: he loves her.
‘Thaddeus,’ I said, looking him in the eye. ‘Forgive me, but do you care for Magda?’
He smiled sadly. ‘Since I was twenty-eight. But my father was a gentleman and would not countenance his son marrying a taverner’s daughter, so that was that. And Greta had already disappointed her parents by running off with an alchemist – my father’s apprentice – so it was Magda’s duty to take on the Winged Horse. Which she did, and ran it very successfully by herself for a couple of years after her father died, though she was only in her twenties, until that bastard Jan Boodt, who was the brewer’s lad, won her over. He’s been making her life hell ever since.’
‘And you never married?’
‘Never met another woman like Magda,’ he murmured, looking at the floor, with a shyness I had not seen in him before.
‘You should go to her,’ I said gently. ‘I don’t know how badly she was hurt, there wasn’t time to examine her, but …’ I did not need to make the rest explicit.
‘Magda is a survivor,’ he said, as if he could make it true by force of will. ‘Will you be all right here?’
‘I’ll be sleeping the sleep of the just,’ I said, pushing myself up from the table. ‘I feel I have earned it. How was David’s family? And the rabbi?’ And Esther, I wanted to add, but stopped myself.
He made a grim face. ‘As you’d expect. Awful business. One interesting thing, though. Benjamin allowed me to examine the body eventually.’
‘And?’
‘Not the same weapon. A long, straight blade this time. Narrow, too.’
‘A different killer, then?’
He spread his hands wide. ‘I couldn’t say. You’re the one piecing this together. I must fetch my bag.’
‘Oh,’ I said as he reached the door, ‘what time did Besler come back?’
Hajek frowned. ‘Besler? He didn’t. I assumed he was with you.’
We looked at one another.
‘Merda,’ I said with feeling.
He was not back when I awoke the following morning. In the grey dawn, the elation of the previous night – my rooftop rescue of Magda and Sukie, Greta’s astonishing extrajudicial punishment of Jan Boodt, my escape from the Spaniards – had ebbed, to be replaced by a bleaker outlook. I was no nearer to finding out who killed Bartos and David, Montalcino still wanted me dead, he was bound to discover at some point that he had been cheated out of the poisoned elixir, I didn’t know if Sukie was out of danger and, for all I knew, Magda might have died in the night and Jan survived. That would be the worst of all outcomes: if by some chance he pulled through, he would know exactly what had been done to him and Greta would face a charge of attempted murder, for which she would surely be condemned to death.
Then there was Besler. I had considered going to fetch him last night, but it was gone two when I arrived at Hajek’s and the prospect of crossing the bridge again with those Spaniards out there deterred me. Besides, I doubted I would have been in time to prevent the inevitable. I thought of Count Vilem’s portrait hanging in the hall: he was tall, blond and blue-eyed, just like Besler. As Xena had pointed out, she was no fool; if you were looking for a young, healthy man to do what your husband could not, it made sense to find one who resembled him. I almost laughed at my own vanity: it was not my reputation that had stirred her interest, but Besler’s colouring. She must have set her sights on him the moment she noticed him. I feared that she may not be as clever as she thought, though; she had failed to take into account the fact that servants have sharp eyes, and those in the Rozmberk household would have served her husband for years before she arrived. Their first loyalty would be to their master, and they may not like to see him cuckolded. Or perhaps they would be so invested in the continuation of the dynasty and their own employment that they would turn a blind eye if it resulted in an heir. I had to hope it wouldn’t result in Besler on the wrong end of a duelling sword.
I put the book Esther had given me for Sukie into my bag and set off for the castle again. The sky was clearing and a pale sun hung low over the spires, though I felt the wind’s keen edge. As I crossed the Stone Bridge, I glanced over the parapet at the entrance to the Devil’s Channel and shivered. After I had checked on Sukie and Magda, I would go back to the Jewish Town and see if I could offer any support, by which I meant see Esther. I still wanted to find out what Benjamin was hiding, and what he had taken so urgently from David’s house.
Almost without intending it, I found myself climbing the street that led to the Winged Horse, though my steps slowed as I approached. Perhaps it was unwise to be seen here, but I couldn’t go the rest of the day without putting my mind at ease about Jan.
As I rounded the curve of the street, I saw Irenka outside sweeping the front step. She raised a hand in greeting.
‘Morning,’ she said cheerfully, leaning on her broom. She looked considerably fresher than I did after the night’s adventures. ‘We’re closed today, but I can do you some breakfast if you want?’
‘Closed?’
‘Yes. As a mark of respect.’ She couldn’t have made the word sound more risible. ‘You didn’t hear? The master died last night. He was taken ill very suddenly – the mistress’s sister found him. Perhaps you’d gone by then?’
‘I must have. Do they know what happened?’
‘Well, the doctor turned up and he said the master’s heart had given out. It’s common, apparently, at his age, if you’re a drinker. Terrible shock. So we’re all in mourning today.’
‘My condolences.’
She grinned; I returned it, complicit.
‘I hope you let that boy out of the storeroom.’
She pressed a hand to her mouth with a giggle. ‘Oops. Completely forgot, in all the excitement. Oh well. Won’t do him any harm to reflect on his sins a while longer. He’ll be out of a job now. Do you want to see the mistress?’
I stared at her. ‘She’s better already?’
‘Oh – no, I meant the new mistress. Her sister. She’s looking after the place for now. We’ll be open again tomorrow. There’s only so much mourning you can do when people need to eat.’
‘And Magda?’
The girl’s face grew sombre. ‘I haven’t heard anything. Mistress Greta might – should I fetch her?’
‘No, it’s all right, I’ll come back later. Just give her my good wishes.’
‘I will, sir. Give you good day.’ She bobbed a curtsy and returned to her sweeping, whistling a merry tune. She might need to work on her performance of grief, I thought.
I continued on to the castle with one weight off my mind, while trying to convince myself that no news must be good news as far as Magda was concerned. I showed the Emperor’s token to various guards and was eventually admitted to the private wing, until I arrived at the door of the Strada’s apartments.
A nervous-looking maid answered my knock, and ran quickly to announce me. A moment later, Ottavio appeared from the corridor looking peevish, for which I couldn’t blame him.
‘Bruno. I do think you might check first before dumping distraught children on us in the middle of the night. This isn’t an orphanage.’
‘Oh,’ I said, glancing anxiously over my shoulder at the stairs. ‘That’s awkward – I have four more waiting outside.’
He relented and gave a brief smile. ‘You’d better come in.’
‘I apologise,’ I said as he closed the door. ‘It was an emergency – I had to find a place the child would be safe, with someone who was kind, and I thought of your sister.’
‘Ah. There I was thinking you were going to say me. Safe from what?’
‘Some unscrupulous men were looking for her. She needed to be somewhere they couldn’t reach her.’
‘Why, what has she done? Is she a thief?’ He looked alarmed.
I hesitated, then reasoned that he had done me a favour and I didn’t want him to suspect Sukie of wrongdoing. ‘No. She was close to Ziggi Bartos,’ I said, lowering my voice.
‘Really?’ He frowned. ‘She’s just a child.’
‘I know. But Bartos trusted her. I don’t think he had many people he could confide in. These men know he gave her something to look after before he was killed.’
‘Really? An alchemical discovery, you mean? What was it?’
‘Doesn’t matter. The point is, she doesn’t have it any more, but these men may still wish to silence her. Can she stay here until she’s out of danger?’
Ottavio looked worried, but eventually he nodded. ‘I suppose so. As long as it doesn’t put my family at risk. My sister is charmed by her, but of course Kat does love to look after people. Come.’
I wondered if that was true, or if it was what he told himself in order to avoid his share of emptying their father’s bedpan.
He pushed open the door to a small salon, where Sukie sat cross-legged on a floor cushion, reading a book aloud to a small boy who leaned his head against her arm and sucked his thumb, docile as a kitten.
When she saw me, she jumped up, her face contorted with distress; it pained me that she now associated me with bad news.
‘Can I go home?’ she said, clutching at my sleeve. Her wild hair had been brushed and neatly braided, and the cut on her lip dressed with a salve.
‘Not yet, I’m afraid. I need you to be patient and stay here a little longer.’
‘Is my father all right?’
‘He’s fine. He was a hero last night,’ I added. ‘I could not have saved you and Magda without him.’
She smiled uncertainly; I sensed she was not quite ready to believe in her father’s heroism yet. Her face grew sombre again. ‘Magda – is she …?’
‘I don’t know yet,’ I admitted. ‘But Jan Boodt is dead.’
‘Good,’ she said emphatically. No pretence of mourning for her.
‘I’ve brought you the book I promised,’ I said, holding out the bag.
‘Thank you. But I have lots of books here – Katherina has been very kind and let me look at hers.’ She said this a little too loudly; I gave her a questioning look and she glanced past me at Ottavio, who was standing in the doorway, before dropping her voice. ‘Bruno, I need to speak to you. In private.’
I nodded, and turned to Ottavio. ‘We’re just going to take a walk in the courtyard. She needs fresh air.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘I can open a window?’
‘And exercise,’ I said. After a beat, he smiled and stepped aside for us to pass, but I could see the suspicion in his face. It was understandable; I had, as he said, dumped the girl on his family and only now let him know that murderous thugs were looking for her. He must wonder what else I hadn’t told him. As Sukie left the room, the little boy erupted into one of those unnerving, bestial screams that seemed to endure long past the lung capacity of any human.
‘Oh good God,’ Ottavio said, casting around frantically for someone to deal with it.
Sukie clung to my arm, her elfin face tight with worry. When we reached a quiet corner of the courtyard, she pulled me into the shadow of a doorway.
‘It’s Katherina,’ she said solemnly. My heart lurched.
‘Has she mistreated you?’
‘Oh – no, she’s been very kind. She braided my hair, then she let me sit in her chamber and look at her books.’
‘What, then?’
She reached into the pocket of her dress and drew out a piece of paper. ‘I found this tucked inside one of them.’
I unfolded it and my eyes widened at the sight of neat, spiky writing that was almost as familiar to me by now as my own. It was all in Latin. I read the first few lines:
I burn for you like an athenor.
Our love is the conjoining of Sol and Luna, it is the chymical wedding that brings about the great transmutation. I am Sulfur, you are Mercury. In the fire of our union we become purified, and what is generated when our bodies and souls conjoin is the most noble substance of all. There will come a day when we need no longer hide in the shadows. You are my Lux Major, I walked in darkness until I stepped into your light.
There was a good deal more of this, replete with alchemical imagery and bad poetry, but I did not need to read on to get the gist.
‘Holy God. Did you understand this?’ I asked.
Sukie gave me her best eye-roll. ‘Most of it. I told you, I can read Latin. It’s a love letter.’ She paused to see if I had understood. ‘It’s Ziggi’s writing.’
‘I know. In Katherina’s book, you said?’
She nodded. ‘Do you think they were sweethearts?’
I folded the paper again and handed it back to her. ‘He certainly sounds very ardent, but we don’t know that she returned his feelings. For God’s sake, don’t ask her. Put this back before she sees it’s missing.’
‘I’m not stupid.’ She squirrelled the paper away again. ‘But if they were – does that have anything to do with his murder?’
I blew out air through pursed lips. ‘It’s possible. I need to think. You did the right thing to show me. Have you found any more like this?’
‘No, but I could.’ Her eyes brightened at the prospect. ‘I can be an espial for you.’
I hesitated. ‘You promise me you won’t get caught? We don’t want anyone else with a grudge against you. And the Stradas are doing you a favour, at my request – if Katherina catches you snooping through her things, they’ll throw you out, and they won’t trust either of us again, which would make life difficult. Don’t give any hint that you’ve seen that letter. But if there are more like it, I would be interested to know what they say.’
‘I’m very good at passing unnoticed, actually,’ Sukie said with an assertive little roll of her shoulders, as if I had insulted her professionalism. I suspected that meant she had sometimes been forced to steal food, but I didn’t ask.
‘When Jan threw Magda against the wall and I heard her head crack, I thought he would do the same to me,’ she said quietly as we crossed the courtyard. ‘That’s why I let him take the flask. Did you get it back?’
‘Not yet. But I will.’
‘I promised Ziggi I would take care of it. I’ve let him down.’ She kicked a stone, her hands tucked under her arms. ‘It was valuable, you see. He had it made especially by a silversmith.’
I stopped. ‘Why was it so valuable?’
‘Because it was magic.’
‘Right.’
‘Don’t say right in that voice, like I’m a baby. I mean, it was a magic trick. It could pour two different liquids out of the same spout. He showed me once.’
‘Of course.’ I turned to her, delighted. ‘That’s how he planned to – how did it work? Did he explain it to you?’
‘It had two chambers inside, and there were pipes. If you knew how to put your fingers over the little holes on the outside, you could change the pressure and it would push out liquid from the second chamber instead of the main one.’
‘Brilliant,’ I said, half to myself. That at least solved the mystery of how Bartos had intended to drink the elixir in front of the Emperor without also being poisoned, though it was a high-risk strategy. ‘Did he design it himself?’
‘He said a friend gave him the idea, but he perfected it. So you have to find it.’
Outside the Stradas’ apartments, I handed her Esther’s book. ‘This belongs to a friend of mine, and it’s very precious to her. They’re stories of brave women – I thought you might like it.’
Sukie nodded earnestly as she tucked it under her arm. ‘I’ll take great care of it. Please thank her.’
I had intended to leave, but the door was opened by Katherina this time, holding her son awkwardly on her hip. He appeared to have screamed himself to sleep and looked almost cherubic with his head on her shoulder.
‘Come in,’ she said to me. ‘My father wants to speak to you.’
I followed her along the corridor, thinking about the letter Sukie had shown me. All the flowery talk of conjoining could have been allegorical, I supposed, but Bartos had certainly made it sound as if a union of bodies had occurred. Was Katherina his midnight visitor? She was relatively tall for a woman; it was not impossible that a bleary-eyed drunk would mistake her, in the dark and wrapped in a heavy cloak, for a man. And if they had been lovers, did it then follow that the child she was now carrying was not fathered by Rudolf, but by Bartos? Dio porco, that put a different slant on things. The Holy Roman Emperor, King of Bohemia and Hungary, cuckolded by a low-born alchemist? Perhaps that had been part of the attraction for Bartos.
