‘Madame Blanken, please could you talk to Lukas for a few moments?’ implored Luise.
The old woman turned towards Margont, who introduced himself. ‘He’s a friend,’ explained Luise. ‘He’s helping us with our search ... Lukas and Captain Margont would like to go to the orphanage to question Wilhelm’s friends ...’
Madame Blanken’s face froze, giving her a steely look.
She said sternly, ‘If they come anywhere near the orphanage I shall have them both arrested. And rest assured I will succeed in that. Very easily, in fact. General Lariboisiere is staying with me ...’
She pointedly ignored Relmyer. He clenched his teeth, as stiff as a blade. Luise tried to think of an answer, but there was none.
‘Please let them. So that this saga can be settled as quickly as possible and so that we can finally be free of it! Allow Lukas to come, for pity’s sake, so that he can find whatever is there to be found, and even if he finds nothing, he will finally be able to rid himself of this business!’
Madame Blanken took her hand. ‘He’s already been. Didn’t he tell you?’
All three turned to look at Relmyer, who up until then had been ignored.
‘Why did you not tell us that you’ve already been to Lesdorf?’ fumed Margont.
‘It wasn’t important, and I didn’t find anything. It was just before the Battle of Essling. Wilhelm had disappeared, I was very worried about him. May I remind you, Madame, that I barely had time to talk to two or three people before you threw me out.’
Madame Blanken went over to Relmyer.
‘What cheek! How dare you complain about having been thrown out! After the scene you made? You forced your way into my orphanage, shoving the concierge and his son, you started shouting, demanding to see this or that person, you terrorised everyone by stomping furiously about the corridors ... If you behave like a fox in a henhouse, you can hardly be surprised if the next thing that happens is that the farmer appears with a gun! We had to call the imperial police to get rid of you! It’s lucky for you that Luise is so fond of you. It’s only because of her that I turned a blind eye. That time! But if you come near Lesdorf again, you or your hussars, I won’t be so lenient!’
‘Why don’t I come on my own?’ proposed Margont.
‘Same problem, same effect. You have to leave it to the police. It’s true that most of the police have fled Vienna, or have gone with the Austrian army. The few who remain already have enough to do keeping order, in accordance with your Napoleon’s instructions. But, as soon as the war is over, life will return to normal and the investigation can start again. Until then, unfortunately we can only
wait...’
Relmyerwas incensed.
‘Is that all? The man who murdered Franz has killed another orphan, and your idea is just to wait until the end of hostilities? As for the Austrian police, the most polite thing that can be said about them is that they are not known for their efficiency/
Madame Blanken stared at him contemptuously.
‘I suppose you have something better to suggest? You want to carry out your own investigation? You want to insult everyone and make a great hullabaloo! Where will that get you? Exactly nowhere! However, I do have something to show to you, and to Luise as well.’
She revealed a notebook that she was holding discreetly in her hand. Margont had noticed it a little earlier but had immediately forgotten about it. Now this little object had momentarily become the most important thing in the world.
‘I thought that Luise would invite you this evening and that you would take advantage of it to try to speak to me,’ she went on, still holding the notebook prisoner in her bony fingers. ‘Despite our disagreement, I would like to prove that you are wrong about me. I have always done my utmost to protect the young people in my care. As the police failed in their inquiry, I carried out my own, in my own way. And I was meticulous; in fact I am still investigating. If you had not left, Lukas, I would have let you know my initial conclusions. As I would have let you know, Luise, had you not broken off contact with me because you held me responsible for Lukas leaving. I drew up a list of all missing orphans, not just from Lesdorf but also from neighbouring orphanages. Then I tried to find out what had happened to all those young people. I wanted to follow up each case to learn if any of the disappearances was in fact a kidnapping, or worse. I counted only forty between 1803 and 1809. I couldn’t go back any earlier than 1803. After long investigation, either by me or financed by me, I was able to trace twenty-nine of them. I noted the names of those boys and girls, the dates of their disappearance, and when and where they finally reappeared, if they ever did.’
She held out the little book to Luise, who opened it, but Relmyer took it from her. The information was meticulously presented in neat scholarly handwriting. Madame Blanken was obviously happy to be able to prove her good faith. She smiled, confidently waiting for Luise and Relmyer to praise her efforts and apologise for having criticised her so often. But this was not at all what happened. Relmyer started as if struck by an invisible blow, and flared up. ‘What is this nonsense? How can you write that Mark Hasach served in the army? You write that he disappeared in December 1804 and that he was killed on 2 December 1805 at the Battle of Austerlitz, which he took part in as a soldier in the Infan-terieregiment 20 Wenzel Kaunitz. That’s impossible! I knew him: he was also at Lesdorf,’ he explained to Margont. ‘His mouth was in a terrible state, full of broken teeth. Now having bad teeth is one of the few things that prevent you joining the army, because you have to be able to tear open the canisters with your teeth in order to pour the gunpowder into the chamber of your rifle. In any case, he hated soldiers because the war killed his parents.’
Madame Blanken frowned. ‘I didn’t know any of that. What exactly are you getting at?’
Relmyer leafed rapidly through the notebook, turning the pages so fast that some of them tore.
‘And this one!’ he exclaimed. ‘Albert Lietz: disappeared in August 1805 and apparently died at the Battle of Austerlitz, in the Infan-terieregiment 29 Lindenau. I also knew him. I promise you it is impossible that he would ever join the army! Albert was the biggest coward you’ve ever met. When he was fifteen, he was afraid of boys who were twelve and he let them bully him. Do you remember, Luise? He cried at the least little thing. He ran away from anything that came near him. It’s unimaginable that he should become a soldier.’
‘That’s true,’ confirmed Luise.
‘A scaredy-cat in 1804 who transforms himself into a fighter in 1805? And here! Ernst Runkel. He disappeared in October 1805 and turns up dead at Austerlitz in the Infanterieregiment 23 Sals-burg! Ernst, a soldier! All that bigot dreamt of was becoming a
priest! He read the Bible all day long, he was in the choir, he bored us with his parables ...'
‘That’s also true,’ said Luise categorically.
This information is all false!’ concluded Relmyer. ‘So where are all these boys really?’
Madame Blanken stiffened. The muscles in her neck contracted visibly beneath the skin.
‘Lukas, you’ve taken leave of your senses! You’re so traumatised by what you went through that you see kidnappings everywhere! All that does is convince me that I’m right: we have to leave this to the police. They have the necessary skill and they, unlike you, won’t be blinded by emotion.’
‘Right, so you’re just going to abandon us all over again!’ retorted Relmyer.
Margont intervened, fearing that Madame Blanken was on the point of hitting Relmyer, or vice versa — their views of the world and of how the investigation should be carried out were like chalk and cheese. ‘Madame, where did you get your information?’ ‘From a friend, Oberstleutnant Mallis.’
‘May we talk to him?’
‘Why not? Just cross the Danube, ask for Infanterieregiment 59 Jordis and walk towards the enemy fire, you can’t miss him.’
‘Ah, I see ... Well, could we keep the notebook?’
‘I’ll give it to Luise on
condition that she gives it back to me in a few weeks. I don’t want to lose it.’
‘And how was Lieutenant Colonel Mallis able to put together the information?’
‘At my request he consulted army records. The young people we take in have no family and no private means. When they run away to seek adventure, without any real plans, they quickly fall into poverty. So the army is often one of the only avenues open to them. Of the thirty boys I was able to trace, no less than ten had chosen the military. Eleven, in fact.’
‘Didn’t you say earlier that you were able to find only twenty-nine?’ queried Margont.
‘He’s the thirtieth,’ she replied, indicating Relmyer.
Relmyer was scarlet with rage. In a way, he was the living proof that there was no need to worry when a teenage boy disappeared; sooner or later, he would resurface. So his very presence gave the lie to his argument and this maddened him.
‘Poor M all is spent an enormous amount of time studying the lists of effective forces looking for all those names,’ explained Madame Blanken. ‘All those papers and ...’
Relmyer stormed off and Luise followed him in silence. She was frightened without knowing exactly what it was she feared.
Margont thanked Madame Blanken before going over to join Relmyer. He was hunched over the notebook, drinking in the pages.
‘Harald Tyler! He disappeared before me, in January 1803. He was found dead at Austerlitz, in the Infanterieregiment 9 Czartoryski! Another one! Austerlitz is being blamed for all these disappearances!’ He skimmed the notebook faster and faster. ‘According to this notebook, five of the missing boys whose names were in army records were killed at Austerlitz. The fifth was one Karl
Fahne, of the Viennese Volunteer Chasseurs. Five deaths at Austerlitz? That’s a lot.’
‘But there were lots of Austrian casualties at Austerlitz,’ said Luise. ‘Even so, it’s an astonishingly high count,’ Margont put in. ‘It’s half of the boys who supposedly chose a military career. Yet at the Battle of Austerlitz, the Austrian army lost only about five per cent of its forces.’
Relmyer continued going through the names.
‘And here! Ferdinand Rezinski! Disappeared in July 1803 and died at the Battle of Elchingen in October 1805. And this one, Georg Knesch, disappeared in January 1807 and died in training in May 1807, in the Infanterieregiment 49 Baron Kerpen. So actually of the ten boys who were said to become soldiers, seven are dead! Including Mark, Albert and Ernst! Now I would be prepared to swear on Christ that nothing would ever induce those three to choose to go into the army.’
Then someone must have falsified the army’s records,’ concluded Margont. ‘Perhaps some of these young men did actually die at
Austerlitz. But it would be easy to add a name to a long list of deaths on the battlefield, to make a disappearance look like a casualty of war. And they were all, like Franz and Wilhelm, orphaned youngsters. I think we’re talking about the same murderer. We’re looking for someone who preys on boys, like a vulture: he thrives on dead bodies. It’s thanks to the war that he has been able to find so many victims without people noticing. He must be delighted each time a new conflict breaks out; he must want there to be continual war. Perhaps he’s one of those warmongers. I could well imagine that he might encourage war by rousing up bellicose minds, in order to satisfy his inclinations. He can then cover his tracks by burying the bodies in communal graves. Look, we won’t even be able to tell the difference between the deaths he’s responsible for and deaths incurred in the fighting.’
‘Apart from Mark, Albert and Ernst,’ insisted Relmyer.
‘If you add Franz and Wilhelm, that’s already five victims. More, in fact, because he must have struck in different orphanages to avoid drawing attention to what he was doing. One of the “Austerlitz deaths” this Karl Fahne, was from Baumen Orphanage, and the boy who died in training and the one who died at Elchingen were from Granz orphanage.’
It was far worse than Margont had imagined. It was so appalling, he could barely take it in. He had been too confident when he had let himself become involved. Now he found himself on the edge of an abyss, and the view was giving him vertigo. He needed words, reason, logic. He would have to analyse the situation all over again, in the same way that Jean-Quenin Brémond, shaken by being unable to make a diagnosis, would perform an autopsy on the body of a patient with an unknown illness.
‘Seven of the people in that notebook allegedly joined the army and died; of those seven, two disappeared in 1803, two in 1804, two in 1805 and one in 1807. But their names only appear in military records from 1805 onwards. So let’s suppose that the man responsible becomes rattled by the investigation started when Franz’s body is found in 1804. That’s why he is so determined to falsify army records after the event. The murderer easily covers up
his crimes. The only two times the bodies of his victims were found was when he was taken unawares. That happened with Franz, because once he knew that you had escaped, he could be sure that you would raise the alarm, and it happened with Wilhelm because he was spotted by a patrol. But I don’t understand why he slashed them both. Did he do the same to the others? That smile betrays him and gives us an important clue. Yet the man tries very hard to leave as few clues as possible. One might think that he can’t help himself mutilating the faces of the boys he murders, that it is beyond his control. When we understand why he does that, we will know a lot more about him.’
Relmyer stared obsessively at the notebook.
Margont continued, ‘Several people tried to arrest Franz’s executioner and to protect those who might be at risk, if he planned to kill again. But all these good intentions were thwarted by the murderer, and the police failed in their investigation. This lieutenant colonel, this Mallis, did he not think it odd to discover so many missing children killed at Austerlitz? He must have attributed it to chance, to ill luck. As for Madame Blanken, she has taken a good deal of trouble over her researches. She will certainly have concentrated her efforts on the ten orphans she could find no trace of, and since they are all alive and kicking, like you, she’s been looking in the wrong direction. That means the assassin has succeeded in fooling everyone: the police, Mallis, Madame Blanken and the rest.’
‘Not me!’ objected Relmyer.
‘Luise and you are the only ones who can prove he’s changed the records. No one else knew the young men well enough to assert with confidence that they would never become soldiers. The victims are all from different regiments, otherwise the deaths might have been noticed. So he must have falsified central army records. Otherwise the murderer would have had to have an accomplice in each of the regiments and eventually someone would have talked. Now we have a trail to follow. We need to find out who fiddled the military registers. It’s either the murderer himself or an accomplice.’
‘An accomplice ...’ repeated Relmyer.
Until then he had thought of this struggle as a duel. That was the reason he had become first obsessed, then fascinated with that type of confrontation. Now there was a possibility that the struggle was even more complicated.
Luise could not hold back her tears. They rolled down her cheeks and splashed onto the decolletage of her dress.
‘Now we know why he was so keen on orphans. Parents would never have fallen for it. They would have told that imbecile Mallis that the records were false! Then the Oberstleutnant would have demanded verification. As for Madame Blanken, she was doing all on her own work which should have been done by dozens of fathers, mothers, grandparents, uncles and aunts! There would have been so many angry relatives stirring everything up and badgering the authorities that they would never have abandoned the search. Why are we always the ones to suffer? Isn’t it enough that we have no family? Must we also put up with our solitariness attracting monsters like him?’
For the first time since they had found each other again, Relmyer expressed tenderness towards Luise. He took her in his arms, ignoring the outraged looks that people gave him. Margo
nt envied him. He would have liked to be the one holding her. He felt that he had gone past the point of no return, that he had overstepped a limit without noticing. From now on, whatever happened, even if it took him one, two or even ten years, he would never give up on this case until it was resolved. In a way, he had become a second Relmyer.
Relmyer eventually released Luise, although she would have liked to prolong the moment.
‘Wilhelm’s murder and your return were no coincidence,’ Margont added. The war brought you back here. And also led the assassin to believe that he could strike again with minimal risk. The dead on the battlefield are still being counted ... If the man had not been surprised by a patrol, no doubt Wilhelm’s name would have appeared on the long list of Austrian victims of Essling. The murderer takes advantage of combat. Most of the disappearances take
place in periods of war, when the army is recruiting like mad and people vanishing is commonplace: men flee to avoid enlisting, or the opposite, they flee their families to join up ... Kidnappings are lost in the mass of unexplained absences. As for the police, they are overworked and disorganised when the country is invaded. That makes it easier than usual for the assassin to cover his tracks: war has become his “hunting season”. I tell you, he’s a vulture! He is probably already tracking down a new victim ...’
‘Of course, he’s going to kill again!’ cried Relmyer.
Heads turned in their direction. The conductor of the orchestra glanced over at them and some musicians played wrong notes. He turned back and conducted more enthusiastically. The music grew noticeably louder. Relmyer went to stand in the middle of the dance floor, knocking into couples and being buffeted by them.
‘It’s no use playing fortissimo, they’re all deaf!’ he yelled at the top of his voice.
The orchestra ploughed on, but the dancers fled. Furious officers marched towards Relmyer, stunned guests looked at him in horror.
‘Lukas Relmyer, the killjoy, wishes you an excellent evening!’ he bellowed. ‘Go on, dance, dance! One day you’ll be forced to open your eyes and your ears!’
Wolf Hunt Page 9
