The Wolf Trial by Neil Mackay

Author:Neil Mackay
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Freight Books

Chapter Twenty

Written in praise of Greet – my Eve, the mistress of Stumpf’s wolf cave.

In the morning after breakfast, Paulus reconvened the Committee of Public Inquiry. It was one of those sittings where it takes longer for the body of the court to assemble than it does for the judgement to be read.

Paulus was brief: there was discrepancy in evidence given as to the last hours of the child who had been killed in the woods – his name was never known, and fashion had come to refer to him as the red-ripped boy. An investigation into a conspiracy in the death of the red-ripped boy would be established at a date yet to be fixed. A simultaneous investigation would be established into the death of the Stumpf boys, on the grounds of murder. The state would also now proceed with a trial under criminal law of the convict Peter Stumpf, with no further involvement of church officials – although Fromme would be given official observer status for the purposes of reporting back to the ecclesiastical authorities. Paulus finished speaking, and I dismissed the committee and the members of the public.

Jens, Rodinan, Kroll, and Odil stood to leave, and five or six of the townsmen clapped them on the back as they walked from the hall. Paulus beckoned to Karfreitag and told our sergeant to get their names. He took a little purse from his pocket and handed it to me.

‘Give this to the girl, Greet,’ he said. ‘It is a reward from the Prince-Bishop for her good service to the law and the state.’

I nodded.

‘Speak to the Stumpf women too and make sure they are well. If they need anything – oblige them. Take the day to yourself.’

‘Won’t you need me?’

‘No. I plan to sleep,’ said Paulus.

‘For the rest of the day?’ It was not even noon.

‘Yes. Or at least until I wake up hungry. You can vanish until tomorrow morning for all I care.’

Paulus was a man who loved to sleep – because he was a man who exhausted himself with day upon day of little sleep, and too much drink, and reading and talking. When he found a pocket of time that he did not need to fill with work – he slept like a hog in mud, and could stay in bed a full day or more if he had the chance.

The meeting hall was empty now, apart from Fromme and his boy, Jodel, who both stood by the door, watching.

‘You want to see me, friend?’ cried Paulus.

Fromme pushed his boy away – the lad scuttling out the door with a piece of paper in his hand – and walked to Paulus.

Paulus leant to me and whispered, ‘Apologies for what I am about to do.’

Then he pushed me – harder than Fromme had pushed his boy – and sent me tumbling forward, almost losing my footing.

‘Off you go,’ he shouted at me. ‘I have work to do.’

I scowled – though feigning – and walked past Fromme and out the door of the hall.

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