Gretel and the Dark (17 page)

He jumped, and his pen skidded across the page in response to a furious knocking upon his door. Fearing some calamity, Josef ran to open it, but Gudrun was already in the room, red-faced and breathing hard, in a state of great excitement.

‘Look at this.’ She flapped a thin column of newsprint in his face. ‘Was I right? I was. No more mysteries. That girl’s an escaped lunatic. We’re not safe in our beds. Here, read for yourself. I came as soon as I spotted it. Well, go on.’

‘You’d better tell me,’ Josef suggested, since Gudrun made no move to relinquish her hold on the paper. She took a deep breath.

‘Last year. In Lambach –’

‘Lambach?’ It was a small market town in Upper Austria, a major stop on the old salt route. Josef remembered visiting the place many years ago with his father, but couldn’t recall why such a long journey had been made, only that an ancient Benedictine monastery decorated with broken-armed crosses dwarfed the other buildings. It contained wall paintings dating from the early twelfth century reputed to illustrate the biblical Jesus being expelled from the synagogue in Nazareth, though to his young eyes the beauty of the frescoes had diminished any hint of an anti-Semitic message. Now that he thought about it, they could only have been in Lambach because of the illness of some relative or a friend of his father. That would explain why
the many representations of healing in the frescoes had taken on such weighty significance: St Andrew advising –

‘At the
Volksschule
,’ Gudrun added impatiently. ‘A young woman attacked a small child for no reason. She tried to strangle the little innocent, which is exactly what that Lilie creature did to our poor, dear cat.’

‘How is the cat?’ enquired Josef, crossing the room to straighten his father’s portrait. Gudrun followed him.

‘Who knows?’ she said carelessly. ‘It’ll turn up when it’s hungry. The point is – it’s her. The crazy woman: it’s Lilie.’

‘Ah, and what does the article say became of this woman after the attack?’

‘They locked her in the Madhouse –’

‘We’re safe enough then.’

‘Not so,’ said Gudrun grimly. ‘Ten days ago, she escaped –’

Josef laughed. ‘And walked for several days, naked and wounded. Come, come, Gudrun, this is nonsense. Only a fool could think that way. Your dislike of the girl is clouding your reason.’

‘Nonsense, is it?’ Her mouth tightened. ‘So now I’m a fool.’

‘I apologize.’ Already Josef regretted his use of words. ‘I phrased that badly. But please understand that I have a responsibility to Lilie. After all, I took her on as a patient.’

Gudrun carefully folded the slip of newspaper. ‘And you won’t even consider that she might be the escaped lunatic?’

‘Of course not. Lilie’s a gentle creature. In spite of her curious way of expressing herself, she could no more attack a child than fly.’

Gudrun drew herself up. ‘I disagree. She’s a devious and cunning wench, a liar, constantly play-acting and capable of anything. All men are fair game to such a female. She’s certainly
got you and Benjamin wound round her little finger. Fluttering her lashes. Touching your hand.’ Her colour darkened and she looked away.

‘Is that so?’ Casting his mind back, Josef suspected she’d spied on his entire conversation with Lilie. He’d been meaning to get that door catch mended for months. ‘I wish to see Benjamin immediately,’ he said coldly. ‘Ask him to bring tools. It seems some repair to the door is necessary. As for your accusations, Frau Gschtaltner, I repeat: they are unfounded. Perhaps Lilie is not the only one suffering delusions.’

‘Is this my return for all these years of service to
Frau Doktor
Breuer, to the Breuer household, to the children? To be mocked like an old woman in her dotage? To come second to some chit of a girl brought in off the streets?’

‘That was not my intention.’

Gudrun wasn’t listening. ‘So be it. But I have responsibilities, too. I don’t often take my afternoon off, there being so much work, but today I will. And we’ll soon see whether or not my suspicions are nonsense.’

‘Where are you going?’ demanded Josef, but she pushed past him without another word, holding the folded newspaper before her like a talisman.

The smell of fish well past its best came at Benjamin like a smack on the nose, even before he crossed the threshold. In the kitchen corner, Lilie stood looking down at a pair of large brown trout, dull of eye and oozing slime. Their stomachs had been hacked open; blue-grey entrails spewed on to the chopping board and she stirred them with the point of her knife.

‘There should be a golden ring. Where’s the ring?’

‘What’s that?’ enquired Benjamin, taking the knife from her hand.

Lilie continued to peer at the slowly spreading pile of guts. ‘If only we can find the ring, then everything will come right. I told you before – nobody can fight Fate.’

‘Go outside, Lilie,’ Benjamin said, glancing at her pale face. ‘Get some fresh air.’ As the girl slipped out into the sunshine, he turned on Gudrun. ‘I thought the master said no unpleasant jobs.’

‘Unpleasant? Preparing some nice salmon for our dinner? Not that she’s making a very good job of it.’

‘Perhaps she needed instruction.’

‘In a simple task like cleaning a fish? Don’t talk nonsense.’

‘Apart from anything else, these aren’t fresh,’ declared Benjamin. ‘They stink to high heaven. Where did you get them from?’

Gudrun shrugged. ‘Someone came to the door. I haven’t got time to go trotting backwards and forwards to the market every day. And why should I, with two youngsters in the house?’ She lifted the lid of a pan and peered at the simmering contents.

‘I’ll bury these.’ Benjamin scraped the offensive mess into a basin. ‘You can’t serve muck like that up to the doctor, and I’m certainly not eating them.’ The pan lid was replaced with a resounding clatter. Gudrun faced him, arms akimbo.

‘Is that so, Lord High-and-Mighty? Running the kitchen now, are you?’

‘If I was, Lilie wouldn’t be given the nastiest jobs –’

Gudrun’s anger seemed to drain away. She laughed. ‘So poor Cinderella’s got you both jumping to her defence. Perhaps the two of you will have to jump a little higher sooner than you think.’

Benjamin scowled. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Never mind. When you’ve finished poking your nose into things that don’t concern you, the front-door brass needs polishing.’

‘I’ve got potatoes to lift. Why can’t you –’ He stopped, noticing that Gudrun was unusually well-dressed beneath the huge, somewhat grubby, apron. ‘What’s going on?’

‘See to the door,’ said Gudrun. ‘Here’s the salt and flour.’ She seized a flagon. ‘Out of my way. I’ll mix it with just enough vinegar to make a paste. After you’ve applied that you’ll need plenty of elbow grease. When it comes to the name plate,
Frau
Doktor
Breuer likes to see her face in it.’ She glanced at the clock. ‘And if there should happen to be any visitors, ring the bell and show them into the hall.’

‘What visitors?’

Gudrun’s mouth shut like a trap. Since nothing could induce her to say more, Benjamin took the proffered cleaning materials with a bad grace and stationed himself on the front steps. This was women’s work, and although he approached the task in his usual manner – attempting to carry it out cheerfully, to the best of his ability – he was acutely conscious of a pair of young maids giggling and nudging each other as they passed. The hastily contrived brass polish did little to shift the blotched veil that was the forerunner of verdigris but clung within each letter of Breuer’s name and title with malicious tenacity. Benjamin swore softly as he gouged and scraped and rubbed. His thoughts revolved around small matters of domestic revenge before drifting into a future so illustrious that all such grievances were forgotten.

The sound of a throat being cleared behind him made Benjamin jump violently, spilling the remainder of Gudrun’s vile
compound. It spread over the step like the dirty-white droppings of a giant pigeon, reaching almost to the toes of the visitor’s well-polished boots. On raising his eyes, Benjamin was dismayed to recognize the sharp-featured policeman who’d sent him on his way after the evening spent drinking with his old friend Hugo Besser in Leopoldstadt. At least there was no sign of the grim-faced giant who’d loomed over him so menacingly; instead the weasel was accompanied by a stout young man in spectacles and another, short, red-haired and with a multitude of freckles, hardly older than Benjamin and awkward in his blatantly new uniform.

‘Inspektor
,’ Benjamin muttered. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘Chefinspektor
,’ corrected the stout young man, his expression severe. ‘
Chefinspektor
Kirchmann.’ He took out a pocket watch and nodded approval. ‘We’re here to see
Frau
Gschtaltner and
Herr Doktor
Breuer, precisely on time, as arranged. Kindly announce us.’

His superior raised a neat little paw. ‘One moment, Brunn, if you please. Young Benjamin here and I are old friends. Perhaps he can tell us something about this mysterious girl.’

‘What girl would that be?’ enquired Benjamin, attempting to look profoundly puzzled. ‘Ah,’ he said, as if suddenly enlightened, ‘you mean
Hedda
, the Grossmans’ missing scullery maid. No mystery there, as far as I know. The cook said she went home. Didn’t like Vienna. Missed the pigs, I dare say.’

Kirchmann narrowed his eyes but made no comment. Stepping over the spilled mess, he stationed himself pointedly before the door and, as instructed, Benjamin tugged at the bell before ushering the visitors inside. The
Chefinspektor
about-turned on the threshold, thrusting out an arm to exclude the youngest officer.

‘You, Stumpf, will remain outside and observe. And perhaps with a little more questioning our young friend will recall the
Fräulein
in question.’ Kirchmann turned away in response to Gudrun’s effusive welcome. ‘Ah, Frau Gschtaltner, we meet again. Is
Herr Doktor
–’

Stumpf twitched with annoyance as the door closed in his face with a dull thud. He drew himself up but still hardly reached to Benjamin’s shoulder.

‘I’ve got work to do,’ announced Benjamin, seizing his cleaning rag.

‘So have I,’ said Stumpf, taking out a notebook. He smirked. ‘I thought doorsteps and brass polishing were the scullery maid’s job.’

‘And I always understood collecting gossip was left to old grannies,’ retorted Benjamin, observing with silent mirth that the ginger-haired officer was now standing in the puddle of spilled cleaning compound, and that where the stuff stubbornly refused to shift tarnish on brass plate, it made short work of boot polish.

Josef was surprised when Gudrun ushered Lilie into his presence, insisting the girl had asked to see him … especially as it soon became obvious she’d done no such thing. Not that Lilie resisted – at least there was a crumb of comfort there, and he welcomed it – but her air of bewilderment, the sense that she’d been snatched from another place holding her interest more completely, was evidence enough. A small frisson – of apprehension rather than fear – spiralled the length of his spine. This was Gudrun’s doing; something new was afoot. So far he was at a loss concerning its nature, but in her present mood any departure from usual practice warranted investigation.

However, such tedious concerns must wait. Lilie was here. And since she’d come without being summoned this seemed an appropriate time to broach the subject of therapeutic massage. Josef moistened his lips. He flexed his fingers under cover of the desk and avoided looking at his father’s portrait while mentally asserting that this discomfiture was unwarranted. His intention was simply to hasten the healing process and was in no way self-serving. From his experience with Bertha … and with others … Josef knew the laying on of hands had a profound effect on the emotional state of the fairer sex, intensify-ing the patient–physician bond in ways that were below and beyond mere speech. Hence, he continued with his methods no matter what calumny was heaped upon massage by disdainful colleagues – who likened it to the sweaty procedures of the gymnasium – aware that it had been practised for more than two millennia, its efficacy recognized by Hippocrates, the father of medicine, and by the ancient physician Claudius Galenus, who wrote extensively on its benefits in
De Sanitate Tuenda
.

But in spite of any amount of self-justification Josef continued to struggle with a sense of unworthiness that tangled his words and thickened his tongue. He’d hardly got further than generalizations when the clatter of boots on the hall tiles provided him with an excuse to abandon his efforts. He rose quickly and strode to the door. Here Josef was confronted by Gudrun, resplendent in her second-best gown, holding herself unnaturally upright. Without being invited, she ushered two men over the threshold.

‘
Herr Doktor
, you have visitors –’

‘So I see.’ Josef noted with a sense of foreboding that one wore the storm-grey of the city police. The foremost man extended his hand.

‘
Herr Doktor
Breuer. A pleasure to renew your acquaintance.’

‘The pleasure’s mutual, sir.’ Josef struggled to put a name to a face that, with its sharply chiselled lines and extraordinarily long nose, should have been memorable. Vague recollections of some civic occasion surfaced but the name itself continued to elude him. The thin face was transformed by a smile that redeemed the man’s unfortunate features.

‘Thank you again for your kindness that dreadful night,
Herr Doktor
. My wife often speaks of it.’ His eyes dropped. ‘And we both appreciated the care with which your boy, Benjamin, drove us home.’

Ah, that was it. Josef nodded. The man’s wife, as plump as he was thin, had succumbed to the heat and a surfeit of wine. He’d put his carriage at their disposal. Benjamin had later regaled him with tales of loud and persistent scolding, crowned by the fat woman’s inability to negotiate the carriage steps. It had ended in a pavement debacle. ‘
Chefinspektor
Kirchmann. This is an unexpected pleasure.’ He inclined his head as Kirchmann introduced his colleague,
Inspektor
Brunn, and waved the two men towards chairs, frowning when Gudrun made as if to follow them. ‘Frau Gschtaltner, some coffee for our guests, if you would be so kind.’