Grantville Gazette, Volume 72

by Bjorn Hasseler

  Murphy's shoulders slumped just a bit. He'd obviously been feeling some stress about this, which was relieved a bit now that Andy was taking the case up. Good.

  "Does your wife know about this?"

  Murphy's shoulders tightened again, and a grim expression came onto his face. "Oh, yeah. She's the one who opened the letter when it arrived. Once she figured out what it was about, she hit the roof. She knows it's a lie, because I've slept beside her every night for the last year and a half, so she's about ready to catch the train down to Erfurt and snatch this Becker woman bald. She's got the Irish temper to go with her red hair." He shook his head. "Not a good thing, to get on her bad side."

  Andy grinned. "Was it Shakespeare who said that the woman is deadlier than the male?"

  "One of those Englishmen." Murphy thought about it for a moment. "Now you've got me wondering. I'll go nuts if I don't figure it out. Thanks, Andy." That last almost dripped sarcasm.

  Andy's grin widened. After a moment, Murphy responded.

  "So, I've been really curious, might as well ask about it since we're about done—what's with the initials? Who has three initials?"

  Andy chuckled. "Anyone who had an old classicist for a father who tagged his son with the names of three famous Roman emperors."

  "What?"

  "Augustus Nero Domitian Wulff, at your service."

  Brendan snorted. "Now that's a mouthful."

  "Indeed. And my brother's name is almost as bad: Tiberius Claudius Titus. And I won't tell you what he did to our sister."

  "So, A. N. D.—Andy." Murphy nodded. "Makes sense. But that doesn't sound like a German thing."

  "It's not. Actually, it's a pretty recent thing. During that affair between the Stones and the tax department, Magda Edelmannin, Tom Stone's wife, started calling me Andy as a bit of a joke based on the initials. Portia, my wife, loved it, and after a while it stuck. And since it's an up-time-style nickname, the up-timers like it as well, so I've started using it for everything except formal documentation. Short and catchy, as Tom would say."

  "I can see that," Brendan said with a grin. "So now I can explain it to Catrina, 'cause I know she's going to ask." There was a moment of silence before Brendan asked, "Anything else I need to do now?"

  "No, I think I have what I need to get started," Andy repeated as he stood and stepped around the desk. "I'll respond to Herr Agricola's demand. Hopefully we can get this straightened out soon."

  He held out his hand, and Brendan clasped it.

  "Thanks, Andy. I'll sleep better at night, knowing you're looking after this."

  Andy escorted Murphy to the outer door of the office, and wished him a good day. Once the door was closed, he spun and grinned at Christoph.

  "Dig out the fancy letterhead and limber up your typing fingers. Dust off the Goldfarb und Meier machine and get ready. I want to overawe this Erfurt attorney."

  Christoph responded with a grin of his own.

  GRUBB WORMB & WULFF

  Non Illegitimi Carborundum

  A. N. D. Wulff, Partner

  12 May, 1635

  Herr Jacobus Agricola

  Erfurt

  Herr Agricola,

  Good day to you. I have been engaged by Sergeant Brendan Murphy to make a response to your recent letter wherein you accuse Sergeant Murphy of seducing a woman in Erfurt and abandoning her after she became pregnant. Not to put too fine a point to it, but your accusation is false and baseless, and we categorically reject and deny it in toto and in every detail.

  Your letter, mein Herr, treads perilously close to slander and libel. For your information, Sergeant Murphy has been a resident of Magdeburg for about a year, and has not left the city in that time. His commanding officer and his fellow soldiers will swear to that. He is also married, and his wife is well aware that he has slept beside her every night for the last year and a half, and is also willing to swear to that.

  Consequently, Herr Agricola, unless you can produce incontrovertible evidence that Sergeant Murphy was indeed in Erfurt, and did indeed establish a relationship with Frau Becker, you had best advise your clients to drop this matter. Either that, or find another target.

  If this goes before a judge, I will stand in Sergeant Murphy's defense. I assure you, your clients would not enjoy that experience.

  I suggest you help your clients see the path of wisdom.

  Direct all future correspondence concerning this matter to my attention here in Magdeburg.

  Sincerely,

  A. N. D. Wulff

  cc: Brendan Murphy

  ****

  Magdeburg

  May 20, 1635

  Herr A. N. D. Wulff

  Greetings.

  Having received your response to my letter to Herr Murphy, I now respond in turn. Your denial of the truth is noted. I would expect nothing less from an attorney of your reputation. Your inferred threats are also noted. That, too, was not unexpected once we realized you would be representing Herr Murphy.

  Herr Becker is uncowed by your letter. He will press forward with his intended course of action if Herr Murphy does not redeem his honor. To do less, he states, will be to fail his daughter's honor, his family's honor.

  We are not impressed by the willingness of Herr Murphy's up-time associates to swear to his being solely in Magdeburg for the time frame involved in this matter. Nor are we impressed by his wife's avowals. Friends and spouses have been known to shade the truth before, even to the point of perjury. It will take harder evidence than that to clear Herr Murphy's name and reputation.

  And if Herr Murphy is indeed married to another woman, he is now liable for charges of at least attempted bigamy, in addition to everything that was laid out in my previous letter.

  You demanded incontrovertible proof that Herr Murphy is indeed the father of the child in Frau Margarethe's womb. She has in her possession a memento gifted to her by Herr Murphy on the night in which he compromised her honor. It is a thin metal plate, apparently some kind of tin alloy, about two inches wide by one inch high, with curved ends, and letters deeply embossed into the plate. The letters are as follows:

  MURPHY

  BRENDAN S.

  713-55-469

  A POS

  CATHOLIC

  Herr Murphy informed Frau Margarethe that this was called a 'dog tag,' that it had very great personal and spiritual importance to him, and that by entrusting it to her he was giving her the strongest assurance he could that he would indeed keep his promise and marry her. So she gave herself to him, and he subsequently abandoned her. But this he left behind. And this, Herr Wulff, is enough to bind Herr Murphy to his words and deeds.

  To quote yourself, Herr Wulff, I suggest that you help your client see the path of wisdom.

  Have a nice day.

  Jacobus Agricola

  16 May 1635

  Andy set the letter down. "Christoph!" The young man appeared in the door to the inner office. "Send a note to Sergeant Murphy that I need to see him as soon as he can make arrangements to be here." Christoph started to turn away, and Andy added, "Make it polite." That got a grin from the young man.

  In a moment, Andy heard the typewriter start clacking. "Price of progress, I know," he muttered, "but a quill is certainly quieter." He put the letter in the Murphy folder, which he placed on the table behind his desk, and resumed studying the contract that one of the merchants in town had asked him to analyze.

  In the event, it was a couple of hours before Brendan was able to appear. Andy looked up as Christoph ushered the up-timer into the office.

  "Here. You need to read this." Andy passed the letter to Brendan, who settled into the visitor's chair and started puzzling his way through the German calligraphy. Andy could tell when he got to the important part. His face reddened, his free hand formed a fist sitting atop his right knee, and he muttered, "Son of a . . ." It trailed away into inaudibility.

  Brendan looked up finally. Andy was resting his chin on his interlaced fingers, elbows on the desk. He
said nothing; simply raised his eyebrows. Brendan sighed.

  "Yes, that pretty much has to be one of my dog tags from when I was in the West Virginia National Guard back before the Ring of Fire happened. I used to carry them for good luck." He shook his head. "No, I did not give that dog tag to Frau Becker. They disappeared about six months ago. I thought I'd lost them, and I tore the office and my house apart looking for them, and was pretty bummed out when I couldn't find them."

  "Any proof to that?" Andy asked.

  "None they'd accept," Brendan said with a scowl. "If they won't accept testimony from the guys or from Catrina about my location, I don't see that they'd take it about the dog tags." He shook his head. "Life's a pisser, you know? I mean, I avoided identity theft problems all my life up-time, and I go back in time 369 years, and someone hijacks my identity. Who would have thought that?"

  "Identity theft?" Andy's eyebrows went up again, and he pulled out a legal pad.

  They spent the next couple of minutes discussing that concept, and the various ways the thefts had occurred in the up-time. Andy made notes, the concept of an article or pamphlet starting to take nebulous form. But it wasn't long before they returned to the topic at hand.

  "So, what do I do?" Brendan asked. "This doesn't look good, and I want it cleared up as soon as possible."

  "I don't see any way around it," Andy said. "We're going to have to meet them face to face to prove to them that you aren't the man who got Frau Becker pregnant. Plus, we also want to identify the true wastrel, to not only put a seal on your innocence, but also to provide some form of justice for Frau Becker, and hopefully, prevent him from doing something like this again."

  "And I want my dog tags back, as well," Brendan growled. "The one she's got, and the one he'd better still have. So, do we have to travel to Erfurt? I mean, I can get the time off, and I can get us discounted rates on the train fare, since I'm part of the cadre that has been doing the railroad guard training. But would that make me look guilty, or something?"

  "Going to Erfurt would be an admission of weakness, I think," Andy said. "But I doubt we could get them to come to Magdeburg for the same reason. But perhaps we could get them to meet us midway between the two."

  "Neutral territory?" Brendan asked.

  Andy quirked his mouth. "Yes, exactly. There would be no advantages for either of us then. Both sides would be dealing with inconvenience and expense, and neither would be in familiar territory. Hmm . . . but where?"

  "Eisleben," Brendan said. Andy looked at him. "It's between the two, and it has a good rooming house if we need to stay over, and the train station building has a conference room that we could use for a meeting."

  "Excellent. I'll get the wheels in motion, then," Andy said, rubbing his hands together. "I want to win this as soon as possible. And if we manage to rub Herr Agricola's nose in the dirt as we do that, it will be a job well done."

  Now Brendan's eyebrows elevated. Andy chuckled. "Yes, I am a competitive spirit, Brendan. Besides, I don't like the tone of his letters." He rose and came around the desk to shake hands and escort Brendan to the door. "I'll get on this and let you know what gets arranged."

  After closing the door behind Brendan, Andy turned to Christoph. "Come take a letter, Christoph. And this time, word for word. No making it politer."

  GRUBB WORMB & WULFF

  Non Illegitimi Carborundum

  A. .N. D. Wulff, Partner

  16 May, 1635

  Herr Jacobus Agricola

  Erfurt

  Herr Agricola,

  Having this day received your response dated 12 May 1635, I have reviewed it and discussed it with my client, Sergeant Brendan Murphy. Your tone continues to be a bit on the pugnacious side, but perhaps it is fitting, given the less than solid nature of your case against my client.

  We believe it would be best to resolve this matter as quickly as possible. We will not travel to Erfurt to discuss the matter, just as I suspect you and your clients would be unwilling to travel to Magdeburg. Time constraints and travel costs would be an issue for both sides. Therefore, I propose that both groups travel to Eisleben to meet there to resolve the matter. I assure you, the new railroad can provide swift transport, and once there, the matter can and will be resolved quickly.

  We insist that Frau Margarethe Becker be present and be part of the discussions. We also insist that she bring the dog tag with her.

  And, by the way, that dog tag is not the incontrovertible proof you presented it as. It is the slenderest of reeds, that will collapse at the application of the slightest of weights.

  To allow for travel time and arrangements, and for making arrangements for tickets on the train and for lodging, I suggest we think in terms of the first week of June. Sergeant Murphy will accommodate any reasonable date.

  I strongly suggest you do not encourage your clients in the belief that they will prove victorious in this assault on my client. You will do them no favors if you do. A certain restraint would be wisdom at this point.

  Sincerely,

  A. N. D. Wulff

  cc: Brendan Murphy

  ****

  Eisleben

  June 5, 1635

  Andy stepped onto the platform at the Eisleben railroad station, and stretched. It was amazing how quickly the miles had passed in the trip, but one still stiffened when seated on a bench for a period of time, he decided, regardless of how quickly that bench might be moving past the countryside.

  He looked to each side as Christoph Heinichen and their newest associate flanked him. Good. Now, if . . . and there are the Murphys, he thought as Brendan and Catrina joined them.

  "Are we on schedule?" Andy asked.

  Brendan looked at his wristwatch. "Unless they are ahead of schedule—fat chance of that!—we should have close to an hour before they arrive."

  "Good," Andy said. "Now, a visit to the pissoir, and I shall be ready."

  "Me, too," Catrina said.

  Brendan chuckled, and led the way to the indoor toilets that were now de rigueur in new public buildings.

  A few minutes later they were gathered in front of two doors down a short hall from the station master's office. Brendan opened one, to reveal a moderately good-sized room with a rectangular table and twelve chairs gathered around it. "The meeting room, obviously."

  "Good," Andy said. He walked in and laid his document case down in front of the chair at the far end of the table. Looking around and out the two windows, he added, "Nice room."

  "Yeah," Brendan said. "The local station has picked up a fair bit of money renting the space out for civic groups to meet in, or for traveling businessmen to meet up and have a meeting before they go their separate ways. I think some of the other stations are considering either converting space or building on to offer similar services. Not sure whose idea it was, but it's paid well for this station, anyway."

  "And you will be . . ." Andy said.

  Brendan pointed to the hallway. "We'll be in the assistant station master's office across the hall. They promoted the last one and haven't gotten around to naming a new one, so the office is empty. We'll sit there with the door closed."

  "Good. Christoph will come get you when we're ready for you to join the discussion."

  The Murphys left the room. Andy looked to his companions.

  "Christoph, I'll sit here, so place the name cards the way we discussed. Herr Liebmann, Christoph will sit to my left, and I would like you to sit beside him to start with. We'll call on you early, and you can move to a different seat then if you need to."

  "Certainly, Herr Wulff." Herr Liebmann laid his own bag down in front of the indicated chair, then turned around and looked out the window. Christoph finished placing the name cards in front of various chairs, then walked over to a small side table to check on the bottle of wine and glasses that had been provided at Andy's request. Once he was satisfied with that, he took his seat beside Andy's chair.

  Andy stood for a couple of minutes longer, then took his own seat an
d took a book out of his bag—an up-time book, as it chanced, a thick but small softbound book entitled The Godfather. He needed to improve his command of up-time English, and he expected this would help.

  Despite his occasional struggle with up-time idiom, the book captured Andy's attention well enough that he was a bit startled when the door to the room opened, and one of the station staff ushered several people into the room. Andy slipped the book back into his bag as the newcomers quickly sorted themselves out. They stood facing Andy and Christoph, who had risen to their feet.

  "Greetings," Andy began, giving a slight nod of his head. "I am Augustus Nero Domitian Wulff, attorney for Sergeant Brendan Murphy. This is my assistant, Christoph Heinichen . . ." Christoph gave more of an abbreviated bow. ". . . and our associate Karl Liebmann." Karl had turned from the window to stand behind his chair. He also gave a short bow.

  "I am Jacobus Agricola," the central of the three male figures said in a slightly nasal tenor. "This is Herr Johannes Becker." He gestured to a paunchy figure with a weary face under salt-and-pepper hair and beard who made no motion at all. "Frau Margarethe Becker." The short and sturdy youngish woman standing beside Herr Becker bobbed her head. "And my assistant Adam Schnorr." That was a skinny young man with a prominent Adam's apple, which jerked up and down as he swallowed and dipped his head at them.