The Master of Medicine (The Secret Healer Series Book 2)

by Ellin Carsta

  “Let me see.” Johannes climbed into the other boat and took the oar, then tried it himself. Slowly and smoothly, he pulled the paddle through the water until it bumped into something solid. “Somebody’s got to go down and see what that is.”

  “For how much?” came the succinct question.

  “Thirty silver coins.”

  “Thirty silver coins even if it’s only an anchor?”

  “Thirty silver coins no matter what it is.”

  Without hesitation, the man plunged into the water, then emerged near the boat, took a deep breath, and dove down. After a moment, he came up again. “I need a knife.”

  One of the other fishermen pulled one out and handed it to him. Without saying what he’d discovered, the man dove down again. Everyone stared at the water in fascination. Air bubbles surfaced, and soon they could make out some movement.

  “Help me,” the man gasped after emerging. He pulled something toward the boat.

  A brief look was enough for Johannes to recognize a human corpse.

  Two men in the boat bent over and lifted the corpse. Then they helped their friend out of the water.

  “He was tied to a stone down there,” the man said.

  “Everyone gets thirty silver coins, and you get sixty,” Johannes declared. The men cheered.

  Johannes grabbed the waterlogged coat and turned the body over. “Just as I guessed,” he murmured.

  “You know this man?”

  “Indeed. I would bet my life this is Christopeit, Vicar Bartholomäus’s personal servant.”

  “How did you know we’d find him here?”

  “I didn’t. But the housekeeper’s body was here, and I suspected Christopeit might have met the same fate. Now, take us back to shore.”

  As the fishermen moored their boats, Johannes saw Linhardt, who had been waiting on shore for his return.

  “What did you find?” the guard said.

  “I believe we found Christopeit. He was dumped in the Rhine, exactly like the real housekeeper.”

  “The real housekeeper?” Linhardt asked. “What do you mean by that?”

  “The woman we found earlier, who many identified as Bernhard von Harvehorst’s housekeeper, Duretta, was not the woman I spoke to after von Harvehorst’s death.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  “I met an impostor claiming to be Duretta.”

  “Why would somebody do a thing like that?”

  “That I don’t know,” Johannes responded. “Not yet, anyway. But that state of affairs is about to change.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Absolutely not!” Peter yelled, his face scarlet. “Nobody runs my businesses for me! Nobody gives me orders in my own house and in my own office, envoy of the archbishop or not!” This was the first time in months he’d gone into his office, only to discover that he was no longer authorized to be there.

  “But, Peter, we have no choice,” Elsbeth pleaded.

  Leopold looked from one spouse to the other, glanced briefly at Madlen, and looked at Peter again.

  “What was Johannes thinking by sending this lackey, who now considers himself the administrator of my business?”

  “If I may be permitted to speak—your son did not make this decision. It was entirely the archbishop’s doing,” Leopold said pleasantly.

  “It seems as though you take great joy in seeing me in this position!” Peter glowered at the younger man.

  “What position?” Leopold shrugged. “Correct me if I’m mistaken, but until the archbishop’s intervention, you had a huge debt, an empty warehouse, and no way to care for your family. Now Eckard von Dersch—the bishop of Worms himself!—has taken responsibility for the full payment of your debts, and I have taken on the responsibility of making your businesses flourish again. So I don’t understand why you are angry.”

  Peter made a fist.

  “He’s right,” Elsbeth said quickly, before her husband could resume his ranting and raving. “No matter how you look at it, he is right.” She turned to Leopold. “Can I assume that when there’s enough money to pay back the archbishop’s loan, your job here will be done?”

  “Exactly. As soon as the business is thriving and all debts are paid, I will send a message to the archbishop to request my return to Cologne.” Leopold smiled amiably again.

  “But I don’t want people to tell me what I can and cannot do in my own business,” Peter whined. “I’m an experienced businessman and not used to taking orders.”

  “Nobody will tell you what to do,” Leopold Baumhauer stated simply. “Why would they? You’ll have nothing to do with it at all.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “My mission is to manage the business in your name. You are in no position to quarrel about or contest any of these commercial activities. The archbishop trusts me, and you can trust me as well.”

  “I have a reputation to protect!”

  Leopold looked over at Elsbeth. “I had hoped that I wouldn’t have to be so brutally honest, but you give me no choice. You once had an unassailable reputation as an honest businessman, whose word carried weight and who fulfilled his obligations. But at this point, your reputation is ruined.”

  Peter started to protest, but Leopold held up his hand to silence him.

  “I’m not judging you. I don’t even want to know how it got to this point. That’s not important to me. My task is to make amends and leave behind a thriving business.” He looked Peter directly in the eyes. “You know better than anyone what led to this terrible situation. But have you thought about the repercussions for your son and his family? He is the attorney for the archbishop of Cologne, one of the most powerful men of our time. To retain his position, your son’s reputation must be beyond reproach.”

  Peter’s expression changed. Though still irritated, he seemed to become more contemplative. He sat down slowly onto a chair. “By God, I didn’t think about that.” He looked over at Madlen. “I’m sorry, my child. I was only thinking of myself. It was never my intention to harm you, Johannes, or the children.”

  “Nobody is angry with you,” Madlen assured him “You heard it from the envoy’s own mouth: it’s not important how this all came about.”

  Peter nodded, then looked at Elsbeth. “I’m sorry. You don’t deserve any of this.”

  “We can speak about that some other time,” she said, blushing. “Now the only thing that matters is getting back on our feet. We must stick together and help Lord Baumhauer however we can.”

  “Thank you.” Leopold bowed.

  Peter sighed. “Good. What can I do? Show you the books?”

  “That won’t be necessary. Why look at the books when there are no assets?” He grabbed his leather case and pulled out a folder. “Today we begin anew,” he declared. “Everything else is behind us.”

  “I thank you,” Peter said, only a hint of resentment left in his voice.

  “I take great pleasure in helping others. I’m excited about the job ahead. Where can I freshen up? A well-groomed exterior is almost as important as the merchandise we peddle.”

  A remark was on the tip of Peter’s tongue, but he suppressed it. “So be it.” He looked at his daughter-in-law. “Madlen, can you show Lord Baumhauer the house? And tell Helene to prepare a bedchamber for him.”

  “Of course.” She motioned for Leopold to follow her.

  “Elsbeth, stay, please,” Peter said. “I would like to discuss something with you.”

  “Of course.”

  Madlen stopped and for a moment watched her in-laws. She had a feeling that Peter might come up with a plan to circumvent Leopold Baumhauer’s authority. She decided to speak privately with her mother-in-law later. “Let’s go,” she finally said to Leopold. They left the office together.

  “Helene,” she called out. “Helene, are you there?”

  “Here, my lady.” Helene walked into the hall from the kitchen, drying her hands on a towel.

  “I would like to introduce you to our gues
t or, to be more exact, our new administrator. This is Lord Baumhauer. He’s come from Cologne to help us revive the business.”

  Helene curtsied. “God be with you, my lord.”

  “God be with you, maid.” Leopold cocked his head to the side, a slight smile forming on his lips as he studied her. When Helene noted his expression, she blushed and bowed her head.

  “Could you be so kind as to prepare a bedchamber for our administrator, Helene?”

  “Yes, my lady.”

  “Oh, and tell me: What did Agathe say? Is she bringing the children here, or should I go fetch them?”

  “I’ve been wondering about that. I’ve been waiting for them a long while. Would you like me to go to your aunt’s house and pick them up?”

  “No. Take care of the bedchamber. I’ll show Lord Baumhauer the rest of the house. If Agathe doesn’t get here soon, I’ll go myself.”

  “Yes, my lady.” Helene nodded to Leopold then disappeared into the kitchen again.

  “Please, follow me upstairs.”

  “My pleasure.” They climbed the stairs together. “May I ask you something?” Leopold said.

  “Of course.”

  “Would it be too much of an imposition to ask you to call me by my first name? I would like your in-laws to do the same. It’s better if we appear casual.”

  “Why is that?”

  “It builds confidence. Whoever does business with us should get the impression that the administrator is not an outsider but a person who knows the Goldmann family well, and who has the trust of the archbishop. That will make things easier for me.”

  “But how will people know that the archbishop sent you?”

  Leopold smiled. “How fast do you think word will get out that the archbishop of Cologne, His Excellency himself, is paying off Peter Goldmann’s debts, and that an administrator working in his service will be putting the family’s business affairs in order?”

  They reached the upper floor and Madlen stopped.

  “I suppose it won’t take long. From now on, I will address you as Leopold, just like a close friend or family member would.” She took a couple of steps and opened the first door on the right. “Helene will prepare this bedchamber for you. I hope it is to your liking.”

  Leopold entered the room. “I don’t need much.” He looked around. “This is very nice, actually. When I travel with the archbishop, it is a completely different story.”

  Now a question that had been haunting Madlen since visiting the bishop of Worms came to mind. “May I ask you a question, Leopold, and trust that you will give me an honest answer?”

  “If it doesn’t concern confidential matters, of course.”

  “Why is the archbishop doing all this? I mean, who knows whether this entire enterprise will be successful or whether the business will recover or even if he’ll get his money back? Plus, doesn’t he need you by his side in Cologne? Why is he being so generous?”

  “I’ll give you the honest answer you’ve requested,” Leopold said. “Money doesn’t matter to Friedrich. He has enough of it, more than enough. At one time, he needed his great-uncle to unburden the diocese from its debts. Since then, the archbishop has accumulated a veritable fortune. Even if he paid Peter Goldmann’s debts ten times over, it wouldn’t put a dent in his reserves.”

  “Nevertheless, he doesn’t have to do this.”

  “No, of course not. But he wants to. And that’s why I’m here. He holds your husband in great esteem, and he knows just how valuable Johannes’s legal counsel is. He can do without the money but not without your husband’s expertise. The archbishop is a power seeker, a true imperial monarch. He’s been holding the office of the archbishop for over a quarter century. How many before him have been able to do this? I predict he will remain in power even longer, assuming that he doesn’t fall prey to an attack on his life.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “What did your husband tell you about why he is staying in Cologne?”

  “I haven’t had time to read his message.”

  “Well, I’m assuming that he told you the truth. Besides, almost everybody in Cologne already knows about it anyway. It must practically be common knowledge by now.” He exhaled noisily. “There’s been a murder. The archbishop’s vicar, Bartholomäus, was poisoned. And something tells me that there’s more to it than just this one wicked deed. I took little pleasure in departing from Cologne because, to be honest, I am deeply concerned about the archbishop’s welfare, even though he left for Rome shortly after my own departure and is a good distance from Cologne. Something is afoot. I just know it.” He looked at Madlen. “I talk too much.” He smiled. “You husband is a wise man. The archbishop trusts him. He will solve Bartholomäus’s murder. He was the right choice for this task.”

  Madlen could hardly wait to open the scroll and read her husband’s message. “Thank you for your honesty.”

  Helene had come to the doorway, and she now cleared her throat. “May I prepare the room now?”

  “Yes, Helene. Thank you. Come now, Leopold. I’ll show you the rest of the house.”

  He followed her readily, but not before throwing Helene a certain look as she started to prepare the bed. She didn’t look up, concentrating completely on her work. But Leopold was sure that she’d noted it. With a smile on his lips, he left the bedchamber.

  “We were planning to get underway just now,” Agathe said after greeting her niece at the front door.

  “Mother!” Cecilia embraced Madlen while Veit let her pat him on the head.

  “I was getting worried.”

  “We were delayed,” Agathe raised an eyebrow and inclined her head toward Veit.

  “What has he done this time?”

  Veit looked pleadingly at Agathe. “Nothing much,” she finally said. “But tell us: What’s happened to you? The whole city is talking about it.”

  “What?”

  “People are saying that the archbishop of Cologne sent one of his men to pay off Peter Goldmann’s creditors. But that’s just idle gossip, right?”

  “No, Agathe, it’s true.”

  “But how?”

  “Johannes,” Madlen said proudly. “Johannes is important to the archbishop, so that’s why he’s arranged all this.”

  “Did Johannes return, too?”

  “No, he is unable to come for the time being. He must remain in Cologne because of certain recent events.”

  “So Father hasn’t come back?” Cecilia said.

  “No, my little one, unfortunately not.”

  Cecilia was disappointed, but smiled bravely anyway. “When is he coming?”

  “I don’t know.” Madlen hugged her daughter close. “But say, did you tell Aunt Agathe that your grandfather can see again?”

  “Oh, yes,” Agathe answered. “She told me right off. It’s almost a miracle.”

  “No,” Madlen said. “It’s the knowledge of healing.”

  Agathe scrutinized her niece. “No, Madlen.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I see it. In your eyes I can see the fire of an old passion that almost cost you your life. Fight it. Fight it with all your might.”

  “Supposing there was a chance?”

  “I don’t understand.” Agathe looked at the children briefly. “Do you want to stay for a bit? I can ask Roswitha if she can watch the children.”

  “Yes!” Cecilia said.

  “Well, good. Let us talk about this.” Agathe stepped aside to let Madlen in and closed the door behind her. “Roswitha,” she called out. “We’re not leaving yet.”

  The housekeeper came over. “I was wondering how long you were going to stand in the doorway.”

  “I would like to speak with my niece.” She pointed to Cecilia and Veit. “Do you have time to—” She didn’t have to finish her sentence. The maid held out her hands to the children. “Come on, you two. I’m always happy to have you here a little while longer.”

  The siblings ran to her, and together the three
of them walked toward the kitchen. Agathe knew that Roswitha meant every word she’d said—it was no secret how much the maid wanted children. During the last few years, Agathe often thought about whether Roswitha would not be able to have children because of what her young faithful servant had done in the past. Was God angry at her? Agathe believed it was wrong for Madlen to have helped Roswitha terminate her pregnancy. Later, Roswitha had married Sander, and everything had gone well for them. Roswitha had become pregnant several times, but she always miscarried around the fifth or sixth month. It was as if she’d been cursed. Agathe knew the probable cause of her troubles but said nothing. Roswitha was a simple, honest woman who had her heart in the right place. She had made a mistake, but Agathe didn’t think that a person should be punished her whole life for it. She’d often prayed that the Lord would give her maid a healthy baby. Roswitha was still young and Sander was a strong man. One of these days everything would work out. Agathe wished the couple all the best.

  “Come sit down,” Agathe said as she and Madlen entered the sewing room. When Madlen had lived with her aunt years ago, they’d sewn beautiful dresses together in this room. They’d spent some lovely hours here, and there were times when Agathe missed that harmonious companionship so much that the memory of it almost took her breath away.

  “Well? Are you going to tell me what Veit did?”

  Agathe waved her hand dismissively. “It wasn’t so bad. We were walking along the Rhine, and he tried to climb down an embankment over some slippery grass. I told him that he shouldn’t do it. That’s when it happened.”

  “He fell into the water?”

  “Yes, but don’t worry, he wasn’t in any real danger. He fell near the edge. But his clothes got so soaked that we had to hang them up to dry. That’s why we got back so late.”

  “Why can’t that child simply behave?” Madlen said despairingly.

  “Come now. He’s a boy with a mind of his own. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

  “Sometimes I wish that he didn’t have such a mind of his own. Then I wouldn’t be so worried all the time.”

  “Speaking of having a mind of one’s own, let’s talk about healing,” Agathe said, changing the subject.