Circle of Shadows

by Imogen Robertson

  ‘Mr Pegel,’ Crowther said with a slight drawl, ‘I assume that what you have discovered from your espionage has a bearing on the murders in Ulrichsberg. I cannot believe we have been dragged from our coffee merely to hear you boast.’

  Pegel looked at him with his head on one side and folded his arms. ‘Look, Mr Crowther, all I know of you is that you are a competent anatomist, you left one of Manzerotti’s men to be torn about by the mob – Johannes was his name, I think – and you were just quite rude to me. What gives you the right to sit down and look at me as if you are settling in for an interrogation?’

  Harriet had never heard Crowther being spoken to in that fashion. He looked at Pegel as if he had two heads. He then put his fingertips together and opened his mouth to reply.

  ‘Forgive Pegel, Gabriel,’ Manzerotti said quickly. ‘He is very tired.’ He then turned towards the boy. ‘Pegel, my dear, Johannes did work for me I do not think I would ever ask of you. He also killed a number of people, including this lady’s husband.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘So you see, you cannot blame them for taking against my old friend.’

  ‘And I am a great deal more than competent,’ Crowther said.

  Pegel unfolded his arms and clasped his hands behind his back instead. Then cleared his throat. ‘The members of the organisation call themselves the Minervals, as I say. There is, or rather was, a circle of seven individuals at Maulberg, who seemed to hold the reins of the state.’

  ‘And their symbol is the owl,’ Harriet said.

  Pegel rocked on his heels. ‘Err, yes.’ Harriet thought she saw Manzerotti’s mouth twitch into a smile.

  ‘And am I right in thinking the names of those seven are our victims and Chancellor Swann?’

  ‘Yes. Honestly, you are good!’ Pegel said, grinning at her.

  ‘But this marriage was not their design, was it?’ Crowther said. ‘Even before someone began to kill them in this foul way, they had begun to lose their influence. Their control. So what made things go so terribly wrong for them?’

  Pegel sat down again at the desk and started to rub his right ankle. ‘They spilled some ink on that subject, as you can imagine. There were words about the influence of “John Bull.”’

  ‘That must be Colonel Padfield,’ Harriet said, and she saw Manzerotti nod.

  ‘… and of the Toy Man.’

  ‘The Toy Man?’ Harriet repeated. ‘Count Frenzel, I suppose. He did collect automata once, the Al-Saids mentioned it.’

  ‘They are only referred to by those names. Then, towards the end of the year they speak about the unfortunate losses in their circle. Remember, Mrs Westerman, I am talking about letters written in plain language. Only when they wrote in code did they name names, state facts.’

  ‘But they did not see those deaths as suspicious?’

  ‘As I said, the word used was “unfortunate”. What has been said since you threw the cat amongst the pigeons, I can’t say.’

  Crowther examined his cuffs. ‘The note Mrs Westerman found in Swann’s office?’

  ‘From …’ Pegel glanced at Manzerotti. ‘A gentleman in Leuchtenstadt. A suggestion of who to approach, and hopefully recruit, in the party arriving with the new Duchess. It seems events here have come too thick and fast for news to get to Leuchtenstadt.’

  ‘How did you manage to discover so much about them, Mr Pegel?’ Harriet asked.

  ‘Oh, a little play-acting. Best way to get an idea of an organisation is to make it think it is under attack. They recruit among the various orders of Freemasonry, so I made them think one of those orders, the Rosicrucians, were cutting up rough.’ He shrugged.

  Harriet got to her feet. ‘So what is their aim?’

  ‘In general? Oh you know, a New World Order, universal brotherhood and justice, no property, no states … that sort of thing.’

  ‘That certainly would be new,’ Crowther said dryly.

  Pegel gave a snort of laughter and Harriet found herself thinking he could only just be out of the schoolroom. ‘So who gives the orders, who leads?’ she demanded. ‘Swann said something about “secret superiors”.’

  Manzerotti straightened and left his post at the window. ‘You must indulge the performer in me on that point. You will know of them soon enough. It’s really quite entertaining. Then I do have a rather dark sense of humour.’

  Harriet looked at him steadily and he smiled, showing his white sharp teeth, then she turned back to Pegel. ‘And once they held power in Maulberg, Mr Pegel? What did they do with it? There is no universal brotherhood here.’

  Pegel had the trick of youth in that his mood seemed able to switch in moments. He suddenly looked faintly miserable. ‘They did what everyone with power does in my experience, Mrs Westerman. They spent most of their energies trying to hang onto it. I imagine they told themselves that others of their kind were moving into positions of power in other states, then these “superiors” would give the word and the New World Order would magic itself into being.’

  ‘As lead magically transforms to gold,’ Crowther said darkly.

  ‘That’s it exactly, Mr Crowther!’ Pegel said, and in his enthusiasm leaned on his bad ankle and winced. ‘And just like alchemy, you end up with lead and a nasty smell.’ Even the corner of Crowther’s mouth twitched at that.

  Pegel was still grinning at the idea when Harriet spoke again. ‘I suspect someone is taking a very personal revenge, Mr Pegel. Are there any references to them having done great damage to anyone? Did you see the name Kastner mentioned anywhere?’

  He shook his head. ‘Mostly petty shufflings, as far as I can tell. Though after the deaths of Raben and Warburg, they talked about how cleverly they had avoided the danger posed by the Carpenter’s daughter. It was as if they wished to encourage themselves. Whatever the plot was, they seemed to think they had been very clever.’

  ‘I wonder if that was Frau Kastner.’

  Manzerotti nodded. ‘Kastner derives from a word for Carpenter.’

  ‘So they were responsible for her slander. What a thing to boast over,’ Harriet said quietly.

  ‘They are as arrogant as any aristo in some ways,’ Pegel said, looking oddly distressed again. ‘For God’s sake, they even struck little medals with the owl on to hand out to lower-ranking members.’ Harriet was quiet, thinking of the woman separated from her child. ‘I have some two hundred and fifty names, and if we can seize the papers I had to leave behind, I think we may uncover more.’ He hobbled across the room and took a seat opposite them, balanced on its edge; his left leg bounced up and down as he talked. The contrast with the feline grace of Manzerotti was marked. ‘Not just in Maulberg, of course, all over Germany and Austria.’

  ‘That is a great number of people to be keeping revolutionary secrets,’ Harriet remarked.

  ‘That’s just it, Mrs Westerman – I don’t think they all are. They often recruit from within the ranks of Masonry, then just like in Masonry you ascend through ranks of the Minervals, and new secrets are revealed to you at each stage.’

  Crowther leaned back in his seat and crossed his legs. ‘And how does one ascend through these ranks?’

  ‘Reading! And taking any number of impressive-sounding oaths. Also, a great deal of essay-writing, the aim of which seems to be that the adepts convince themselves they should give up their will and conscience to their elders.’

  ‘How did you find them, Mr Pegel?’

  ‘I met a man in Strasbourg. He had flirted with them, joined the lowest ranks, then decided he didn’t like it. They slandered him all over Leuchtenstadt, he said. It meant he had to leave and find work elsewhere. I suspected he was exaggerating, but now I am not so sure.’

  Harriet frowned. ‘I wonder if that was the man who tried to get Herr Dorf to publish his article?’

  Manzerotti pulled a watch from his waistcoat. ‘How time does fly when discussing these conspiracies. May I suggest, my friends, that if you have anything you wish to ask Chancellor Swann, you do it at once. It w
ill soon be time for my little show.’

  They stood, Manzerotti a little more slowly than the rest. ‘But you won’t say anything to spoil my fun, now, will you?’

  VI.4

  WHEN HE ARRIVED BACK in Ulrichsberg, Michaels found the place in a state of excited delight. Bunting hung from the windows and the roofs were on fire with the flags of Maulberg and Saxe Ettlingham. He rode slowly round to the rear of the palace, stabled his horse then walked through the gardens to the fake village that was his billet. There he found Mr Graves sitting on a bench by the ornate little well, warming his face with his eyes closed. Hearing footsteps, he opened them, and sprang to his feet.

  ‘Michaels! How are you? I have come to escape the sick room and imagine myself back in Sussex. You aid the illusion. Did you find the girl and the book?’ He noticed the landlord’s expression. ‘Ah, no happy ending there, I take it.’

  Michaels shook his head. ‘What’s this about a sick room? Any hurt come to our friends?’

  ‘No, no,’ Graves said immediately. ‘Come and take your rest and I shall tell you what has happened since you left.’

  ‘I should go and have words with Mrs Westerman.’

  ‘They are closeted with Chancellor Swann. Clode has been sent from the room like a schoolboy. Rest a moment. Let us exchange our news.’

  ‘Her name is Antonia Kastner,’ Swann said, then turned away from them and the paper Harriet held out in front of him.

  ‘She was the woman banished from court?’ Harriet asked.

  ‘Such behaviour is not tolerated here. There may be an understanding between persons of rank, but a musician …’

  Harriet attempted to control her temper. She had not exactly promised Manzerotti not to throw Swann’s hypocrisy in his face. The temptation was strong.

  Swann settled into his pillows. He looked more like he had when they first saw him. Imperial. Self-assured, even in his sickbed. Harriet had not expected Swann to clasp them to his bosom and call them his saviours, but his failure to show any sign of gratitude rankled. His next words did nothing to improve her opinion of him.

  ‘Musicians! A useless set of people, and all morally dubious. I know the Duke has a passion for opera, but I cannot see it. The tone of the court would be much improved if they were all expelled.’

  ‘You know her son died, while they were separated? Where is she now?’

  He remained silent. There was movement in the corridor. Harriet felt her cheeks redden. She had an overwhelming desire to see Swann suffer.

  ‘Adolphus Glucke is dead,’ she said. Swann only had the chance to look at her, shocked, when the door was swung open and the Duke, already dressed to receive his bride, entered Swann’s chamber. He was in a coat of brilliant white satin, embroidered with golden tendrils, birds and flowers. His waistcoat was solid silver thread. Even the beauty of Manzerotti, who stood at his shoulder with Colonel Padfield and Count Frenzel, was cast into temporary shadow. Harriet and Crowther moved away from Swann, and the Duke nodded to them before taking his seat by the sick man’s bed. The Chancellor struggled to straighten his posture.

  ‘Calm yourself, Swanny,’ the Duke said. ‘I am glad to see you so much recovered, but you will need your strength.’

  ‘I congratulate you on your wedding, sire. It is most kind of you to visit me on such a day. It is an honour.’

  ‘Congratulate me, do you? An honour, is it?’ He watched his Chancellor. ‘Have I always been such a disappointment to you, Swanny?’

  ‘Sire, I …’ Swann was losing his poise; he looked at the faces of those around him in confusion.

  ‘Shush, now.’ The Duke spoke very softly. ‘You have had care of me since I was a child. Care of my education, my training. I have my ways, but I know my people and love them. Do you think you did such an appalling job you had to turn traitor?’

  ‘Your Highness, I do not understand.’

  ‘I told you to be quiet, Swann. You see, I thought you believed I had improved these last years, but that was not so, was it? It was just you and your little cabal thought you held the reins so securely, I could be indulged and gently manipulated, rather than your old bullying. Is that what the Minervals taught you?’

  Harriet watched Swann’s face. When the name of the Minervals was spoken, his skin went grey. It was as if he had aged in front of her in moments. His bandaged hands began to pull at the sheets and he blinked rapidly.

  ‘Sire, you have been lied to! It is all lies!’ His voice was harsh and dry and there was a yellowish bile on his lips. He licked them convulsively. Lifting one bandaged hand, he pointed to Padfield. ‘Why do you listen to that oafish Englishman? And Count Frenzel, you are a fool. You believe yourself an expert on every subject under the sun, when it is clear you have no capacity for real study.’

  Count Frenzel went white. ‘You ridiculous little monster.’

  The Chancellor began speaking more quickly, his voice rising. ‘That eunuch is a spy, sire! I know he has worked for Austria in the past. You are being lied to!’

  The Duke sighed and leaned back in his chair, turning his foot. His shoes were white too. The heels golden. ‘I am a Duke, Swanny, I have been lied to all my life. And as for my songbird, do you really think he would be in this room now, if I did not know of his other talents? Of course he is a spy – he is my spy.’

  Harriet looked at Manzerotti and he shrugged slightly and smiled at her.

  ‘I have felt something wrong here for a long time, Swanny, but I did not know whom I could trust. The arrival of Frenzel last year and Padfield the year before was most opportune. They were fresh, and though I could not know their loyalty, or their abilities, I knew they were untainted. They became my way of acting, and knowing that I could act. It was the King of Prussia who recommended Manzerotti to me, by the way. He and I are become quite friendly.’

  Swann seemed smaller, as if he were shrinking among the bedclothes. ‘Sire, Christoph, my friend – I admit it. Some of your closest friends, we created a small informal association, to guide, to quietly assist. We did it all for Maulberg.’

  The Duke continued to make little circles with his foot. ‘“The governors of nations are despots when not guided by us. They can have no authority over us, who are free men”. Recognise that? One of the key assertions of the Minervals. You arrogant fools. An informal grouping? I could laugh if I weren’t so disappointed. You are too German for that. I have learned a great deal this morning about all your ranks and titles.’ He stood suddenly. ‘You almost made my state a laughing-stock with your petty intrigues, your drugs and plots.’

  ‘All to Maulberg’s advantage!’

  ‘Or your own! Anyone who looked as if they might become close to me driven away, and your incompetent meddling in affairs of state. How stupid are you, that you believe the best way to conduct policy is with a poison ring. You thought of your own influence first, your pleasure in intrigue came second, your duty to the good of the people a poor third.’

  ‘No, our loyalty to Maulberg—’

  The Duke balled his fists. ‘I am Maulberg.’ Swann twitched away from him. ‘Do you hear me, Chancellor? I am Maulberg.’ He leaned forward, and putting his hands on the bed and bringing his face close to Swann’s, he said: ‘These unknown superiors of yours, Swanny. Do you know who they are?’

  ‘Men of wisdom … of great power.’

  The Duke shook his head. ‘There are none! And your Spartacus, the man to whom you and the Countess and the Colonel and the rest bowed down, your fountain of knowledge, your link to these great unknowns – Spartacus is a junior, junior member of the Law Faculty at Leuchtenstadt! The son of a farmer. A radical who himself wrote every law of the Minervals, all your ceremonies and initiations. There are no superiors! Lord, did he know how to make you dance, you and your precious circle of seven here. It’s all nonsense. Shadows and secrets and the theatrics of a charlatan. And now someone has run you all down and is punishing you. You are like wild pigs in the gulley. No idea where the shots are coming from.
’

  ‘But sire—’

  ‘Whatever this horror that pursues you, you summoned it yourselves.’ He stood upright again and straightened his cuffs. ‘You are to leave my territories and you will never return. You are banished, sir.’

  ‘Christoph, we only wanted the best for everyone. I am the last of our circle left alive, I have spent my life serving you, will you not help me now? I have been loyal …’ His voice came out in a dry whisper.

  The Duke did not look at him. ‘Not loyal enough, Swanny. You might have told yourself you had high ideals, but once you had your cabal in place, you thought only of your own power. This marriage is the best thing possible for Maulberg, but you and your friends feared it because it would decrease your power here. You wanted a puppet and a state to rule. In the end, your loyalty was to yourself.’ Harriet thought of the Duke as she had first seen him, playing with his dog, or at cards with his courtiers. She wondered just how long he had been playing a part, creating a fiction so he could move unseen in his own palace. ‘Count Frenzel – you have the lists. Draw up the warrants, please. I will sign them – and Colonel Padfield, I trust you to see them executed.’ Frenzel bowed; he was still a little white around the lips. At last the Duke looked back at the shrunken figure on the bed. ‘When you leave, leave quietly. If you are here in the morning, your estates will be forfeit. Goodbye, Swanny.’ He turned to the door. Swann held up his hand and called his name, but the Duke did not alter his pace and the door shut behind him.

  Harriet and Crowther remained where they were. When Swann put his head into his hands, Harriet stepped forward and placed a hand on his shoulder. He shook her off and glared at her. ‘Get out, you witch! Get out, you whore, and take your pet with you. Get out. I would rather die than be comforted by you.’

  She was so shocked she felt unable to move, but found Crowther’s grip under her elbow and realised she was being guided from the room. She couldn’t help looking back at the ruined old man on his bed, sobbing into his fine linen.