But the hangman had long since stopped listening. He was already on the way to Steingaden.
Across the street from the tavern, two figures emerged from the shadow of a shed and started out in pursuit of Jakob Kuisl. The two men, dressed like mercenary foot soldiers from the Thirty Years’ War, were more than just worried; for the first time in a long while, they were slightly panicked. Somehow the physician and the redhead had eluded them and they’d lost one of their men in the fight with that damned monk in black. And now their cover was blown! This hulk of a hangman seemed their last hope.
With wide-brimmed hats pulled far down over their faces, they mingled with the workmen and the Augustinian monks still lamenting their loss, following Jakob Kuisl down the busy street full of horse-drawn sleds and hand carts, toward the forest.
Perhaps he would lead them to their goal.
Augustin Bonenmayr closed the door and motioned for Simon to take a seat. The physician plumped down dejectedly on a stool, so shaken that he couldn’t say another word and so wide-eyed with fright he could only stare at the dark monk, who was still leaning against the doorjamb playing with his dagger. A faint smile played across Nathanael’s lips. His golden cross swayed gently back and forth like a pendulum.
The abbot of Steingaden sat across the table from Simon and Benedikta and folded his hands as if in prayer. With his pince-nez, gray hair, and pinched lips, he looked like a compassionate schoolteacher preparing to give his students a stern lecture even though he didn’t really enjoy doing so.
“I am dreadfully sorry it had to turn out this way,” he began. “But apparently, God selected you for this role.” He removed the pince-nez and started polishing the glasses again without looking at either Simon or Benedikta. “You have, indeed, led us to the Templars’ treasure, and all of Christendom will be eternally grateful to you for that. But you must understand that allowing you to live is too risky. The word must not get out that the treasure was in the hands of heretics for centuries. Also, the fact that we had to spill blood to obtain it is”-he looked at Brother Nathanael reproachfully-“well, more than regrettable. It wouldn’t be good if something like this became public knowledge. All in all-”
“You knew the whole time!” Simon interrupted, having regained his voice. “From the very beginning, we were no more than your stupid flunkies whose job it was to find the treasure for you. You deliberately showed us the sales deed here in the monastery so we could draw our own conclusions!”
The abbot shrugged apologetically. “I knew that you were smart and curious, Simon Fronwieser. You found the entrance to the crypt along with the hangman, and you’ve proved on a number of occasions that you think faster than most people-like a puppy sniffing for a bone, you poke your nose in every corner. I admire that.” Bonenmayr smiled benevolently before continuing. “When you came to Steingaden, I considered hiding the document from you, but then I thought, why shouldn’t I let him dig for his bone? You never noticed them, but my colleagues were always nearby. Only the hangman was too dangerous for me, so I saw to it that he had other things to keep him busy.”
Simon groaned. “So you told Lechner to send Kuisl out to look for robbers!”
“Not directly. But the result leaves nothing to be desired, does it?” The abbot peered contentedly through the crystal-clear lenses of his pince-nez. “The robbers were hanged, we have the treasure, and the city has earned a little from it in the process.”
By now, Benedikta had clearly recovered from her fright as well. “Your visit to my brother’s funeral…” she said, looking angrily at the abbot. “You were only there to see how far along we were in solving the riddle. You didn’t give a damn about my brother!”
The abbot looked almost a bit sad. “That’s not quite correct. The death of your brother was regrettable, as I said. I wanted to pay him my final respects. He deserved it,” he said with a smile. “Besides, I thought I could divert Simon from what we were up to by making Koppmeyer’s sister a principal suspect.”
Benedikta jumped up as if she were going to seize the abbot by the throat. “You goddamned…!”
Nathanael drew his dagger, but Simon pulled her back down onto the chair before the monk could intervene.
“Your plot almost worked,” the medicus said after making sure Benedikta had calmed down again. “For a time, I did, in fact, suspect Benedikta of murdering her brother. How could I suspect that the abbot of Steingaden was behind it all?”
Augustin Bonenmayr shook his head sadly. “The order to kill the priest of the Saint Lawrence Church came from Augsburg-from high up, not from me. When Andreas Koppmeyer stumbled upon the crypt during the church renovations, he wrote a letter to the bishop. That’s how we learned the treasure had reappeared. I would have perhaps chosen another way, but the bishop considered it best to make sure there was absolute silence about it. Koppmeyer was a good priest, but unfortunately also a gossiper who knew too much. The danger that others might pick up the trail was simply too great. After all, Koppmeyer had already confided in his sister. You must understand, we had to put an end to this!”
“Who’s behind all this?” Simon asked in a hoarse voice. “The bishop? Or are there others?”
Bonenmayr laughed softly. His eyes sparkled like cold little diamonds behind his pince-nez. “There are many of us, in all Christian countries, from simple monks right up to the bishop. Not even the Pope knows our names, yet our members sit in the uppermost ranks of the Vatican. We fight against the spread of heresy and save the treasures of Christianity from destruction. For far too long we have stood by and watched as the Lutherans, Calvinists, Zwinglians, Hussites, and all the rest of them defame our sacred places and desecrate our holy relics!” He leapt up, pacing in front of the shelves full of books and parchment scrolls. “These vermin! They keep citing the First Commandment, but in truth, they’re nothing but a gang of criminals! Disciples of Satan who melt down consecrated gold objects to make coins, who trample our altars and burn the bones of our saints!” His face had turned bright red, and his glasses started to steam up. Bonenmayr closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and a smile passed over his lips again.
“The fact that we learned so suddenly of Christendom’s greatest treasure through a simple village priest’s letter is a sign that God wants us to go forth and do battle in the greatest of all holy wars. The treasure is here! Right before our eyes!” Bonenmayr stopped and raised his arms to heaven. “It will adorn this church, and crowds of pilgrims will once again come flocking to Steingaden! Right here in the Priests’ Corner we will have a pilgrimage site to rival Santiago de Compostela! The bishop has already promised that at least a part of the treasure will be kept here.”
Smiling broadly, he approached Simon and Benedikta with his hand extended in benediction.
“You’ve helped us find it again and bring it back into the bosom of the Church,” he whispered. “For that we owe you eternal thanks. I am certain that God has set aside a very special place for you in heaven.”
“You can just go to hell for all I care; I’m not ready to go to heaven yet!” Benedikta shouted, running to the door. She tore it open and stormed out, bumping right into the two stocky novitiates, who were still standing guard. Brother Nathanael’s muscular fingers dug into her shoulder and pulled her back into the library. He pressed his dagger against her throat and a thin trickle of blood ran down her neck.