“You will be using these to fashion coverings for my feet.”
He snorted indignantly at that. “I am not a cobbler,” he stated.
“You are so close to completing my cape,” I said. “Do not make these labors of yours for nothing.”
He understood my implication. His face ashen, he hunched over the cape to add the hood so that he could be done with it. When he was finished, I slipped it on. A dressing mirror stood in the corner of the stop, and I crouched in front of it so I could see my reflection. The material used for the cape was black, which was better for hiding myself within, and the hood kept my face mostly hidden with only my knife-slit of a mouth showing. Even still, my reflection was of a hideous nature, and I knew I could not travel among men, not even with the concealment that the cape offered.
“Make those coverings for my feet so you can be done with me, and I with you,” I said, my voice indicating a weariness that had come over me.
The tailor took offense at having to do the work of a cobbler and his nose wrinkled at the prospect, but he commenced with his work, and in little time fashioned for me the coverings that I desired. I slipped them on my feet and decided that they would make do.
“You have done what I have asked and I will keep my word,” I told him, and I moved to leave his shop. As I removed the bolt that secured the door, he called out for me to stop. I turned and saw a look of consternation upon his face, as if he had a question of great importance that he wished to ask. I knew what it must be. To know what type of creature I was. Even though I had no idea how I could answer him, I told him to ask me his question.
“What is Herr Frankenstein’s address?” he asked, boldly. “I need it so I may send him the bill.”
“When I find it I will let you know,” I told him, and I left his store.
I laid on a rooftop across from the Ingolstadt Apothecary. Dusk had started to descend, and shortly thereafter the lamps were extinguished within the apothecary. When Herr Klemmen exited the shop, a sadness welled up within my chest. The man who had been my employer for seven years and whose company I had greatly enjoyed used to be a robust figure with a cheerful countenance and a youthful appearance that belied his age. The man who exited the apothecary appeared to have aged a great many years. His posture was badly stooped and his hair, which had last seen only touches of gray, was now snow white. A tiredness seemed to have settled over his features, making him almost unrecognizable. But he had the same bushy tangle of eyebrows and thick mustache that I remembered, although they also had turned the same white as his hair. The changes in his appearance were so dramatic that they surprised me, and it made me wonder how much time could have elapsed between Friedrich Hoffmann’s death and my birth within Frankenstein’s laboratory. Could it have been as many years as his appearance seemed to indicate?
I knew the route that Herr Klemmen would take to arrive at his home, and I moved swiftly to an area that would be mostly in shadows so I could intercept him. I waited until he walked past my hiding spot before I called out to him.
He turned, alarm showing in his face. “Do I know you?” he asked.
I did not want my size or my appearance to frighten him, so I remained crouched in the shadows, the black cape that I wore mostly hiding me.
“Herr Klemmen,” I said, “I come to you as a friend and not to do you harm.”
“Then show yourself to me.”
“I cannot do so, for the hideousness of my appearance would distress you far more than the coarseness of my voice. I need to tell you that Friedrich Hoffmann never betrayed your trust. He was innocent of the murder of your beloved niece, Johanna.”
Herr Klemmen put his hand to his heart, as if to keep it from breaking any further.
“That is impossible,” he said, his voice pained. “My dear niece’s locket was found in that villain’s pocket, and his coat stained so with her blood. I demand that you tell me how he could be innocent!”
“The night before your niece’s murder, a poison was slipped into an ale that Herr Hoffmann drank after his day’s labor at your apothecary. This poison caused him to collapse into a state of unconsciousness in that same alley in which he was later found. While he lay helpless the true murderer stained his coat with blood and placed your dear niece’s locket within Herr Hoffmann’s trouser pocket, all so that he would be unfairly blamed for her murder.”
Herr Klemmen’s lips trembled as if he were on the verge of weeping. “How … how could you know this?” he asked.
“I will tell you, but first answer me this. In your heart do you believe Herr Hoffmann capable of this crime?”
Herr Klemmen’s face appeared to crumble as he fought the tears that were struggling to come loose. He shook his head. “No,” he said at last. “Friedrich was like a son to me. It is unimaginable to me that he could have acted in such a vile manner. Explain to me how you know of Friedrich’s innocence?”
“I too have been greatly victimized by the same man whom I believe is responsible,” I said, my voice sounding as a mere echo in my ears. “Once I have proven his guilt, I will avenge your niece’s death. You have my promise.”
“Has this villain disfigured you? Is this why you refuse to show yourself to me? You do not need to be afraid. Perhaps I have medicine within my store that could help you. Let us go back there together.”
“I am beyond the help of medical science,” I said. “Or anyone’s help. Herr Klemmen, I do not wish to cause you any further sadness, and greatly regret the amount that my intrusion has caused, but I need to ask you a question that could further distress you.”
“Do not regret anything, my son. Your words have the air of truth, and your visit has lifted a great weight from my heart, for now I can mourn Friedrich instead of despising him. What is it that you wish to know?”
“How long ago did this terrible crime occur?” I asked.
Herr Klemmen’s jaw muscles tightened as he steeled himself to answer me. “We are two months short of the one year anniversary,” he said.
Ten months! That was all it was? Herr Klemmen looked as if he had aged a decade, if not more, but it had only been ten months! I understood it. He never had children and had grown to think of his niece, Johanna, as his own child. I had also felt the warmth of fatherly love from him, so the circumstances must have been doubly tragic for him as Herr Klemmen had to suffer both grief and hatred together, and it took its toll. As I looked at Herr Klemmen’s eyes brimming with tears, I felt the same tenderness and aching of love toward him as if he had been my true father, and I knew then that I had a soul. I don’t know how that could have come to be, but I knew it was true, just as I knew that my memories of Johanna and my life as Friedrich Hoffmann were real, and not imaginary.
I hesitated before asking where Johanna was buried, Ingolstadt or Leipzig.
Gravely, his face aging even more, Herr Klemmen said, “My niece is now with her father and mother.”
My voice barely came out as an animal growl as I said to Herr Klemmen, “You have my promise, sir. The man responsible for these terrible crimes will be made to suffer. Johanna Klemmen and Friedrich Hoffmann will be allowed to rest in peace.”
I stole into the night then.
CHAPTER
8
I waited until dark before climbing over the twenty-foot wall that circled the city of Ingolstadt. The agility and strength within my new body was more that of a wild beast than a man, my limbs showing themselves to be sinewy and powerful, and I was easily able to leap so that I could pull myself over the wall and drop to the ground below. Once I was on the other side, I made my way down the banks of the Danube river and drank until I quenched the thirst that the earlier bottle of wine had merely tickled. Then I slipped into the woods, and using the stars to navigate, headed north toward Leipzig.