The Devil's Opera(128)

More problematic, his own enemies would start trying to identify him. He could handle Kühlewein and Westvol, but Schardius somewhat worried him. Still, he had plans for Schardius, so he wasn’t afraid of him.

The Committees of Correspondence, however, were a different story. They were going to be looking as well, with hundreds of pairs of eyes and angry minds. If they managed to find anything—even one little hint—they would be on his trail, as implacable as the Erinyes. And once they found him, he would not face a magistrate, or even a senior judge. No, the court would be that of the streets, Judge Gunther Achterhof, presiding.

If the detectives or Schardius traced everything back to him, the scandal would ruin him. The death-price for over forty men, even common laborers, would simply complete the destruction.

But if Achterhof managed to identify him, it would be the end of everything.

Literally.

He twitched as a chill ran down his spine.

What was he going to do?

* * *

A long harrowing day was drawing to a close. Mayor Gericke and Prince Ulrik had finally returned to the palace to report to Emperor Gustav, taking their Marine guards with them.

The dead men had all been laid out in a row, and grieving family members had been allowed in a few at a time to claim them. Many of the bodies had been so badly blistered by the steam that they were only identified by the clothing they were wearing.

One by one, names had been given to the bodies. The police photographer took a picture of each body. Each name was written down, both by Sergeant Milich, who was tasked with collecting that information, and by one or more of the Lutheran pastors who had gathered—or in the case of two of the men, a rabbi. Bereft, sorrowing widows and children were going to need support for a time; especially those with no immediate family in Magdeburg.

Byron and Gotthilf were left with a half-dozen bodies that had apparently been single men with no families nearby, since no one had shown up to claim them. They had finally managed to locate a Schiffer work leader who hadn’t been at the site when the explosion happened, one Gunther Bauer.

Bauer was lucky to be alive. If he hadn’t been off dealing with a stubborn supplier, he’d have been in the middle of the bodies when the boiler blew.

Still in shock at the disaster and his preservation from it, Bauer had walked down the row of remaining corpses, giving names. He arrived at the last two bodies.

“That one is Nils Svenson,” Bauer said, pointing to the body that Dr. Nichols had recommended be examined carefully.

“A Swede? Was he married?” Gotthilf asked as Milich wrote the name down and the picture was taken.

“Yah. Good guy. Not married. Lived in a rooming house over on Kristinstrasse.”

“What was his job?” Gotthilf continued.

“I think he worked with the steam system. Yah, that’s right—he was a boiler tender.”

Gotthilf and Byron exchanged sharp glances. Now they really wanted that exam done.

“Okay,” Gotthilf said. “What about this last one?”

“Peter something, I think,” Bauer said with a tone of uncertainty. “No, maybe it was Pietro. Anyway, he wasn’t from around here. Someone said he was from Italy. One of the northern cities, I think.”

That caught not only Byron and Gotthilf’s attention, but Karl Honister’s as well. He turned around from the conversation he’d been having with another sergeant and stepped up beside Gotthilf.

“Could he have been from Venice?” Karl questioned.

“Mmm, maybe,” Bauer said with a grimace.

“Any family or friends that you know of?” Karl asked sharply, beating Gotthilf to the question by a fraction of a second.

“No family, but he did seem to hang around with another workman. Guy with one eye. I don’t remember his name.”

Both Gotthilf and Honister were busy scribbling in notebooks. Gotthilf looked up long enough to ask, “Is there anything else you can remember about him?”

“No, sorry.”

“That’s okay,” Byron said as the two sergeants continued scribbling. “Thanks for all your help, Herr Bauer, and if you think of anything else, be sure and let us know.”

All three of the officers shook hands with Bauer before he left.

“Maybe,” Honister said fervently, “just maybe I have a bit of a lead on the robbery murder case.”

“Go for it,” Byron said. “Meanwhile, Gotthilf and I need to talk to the captain about this Nils fellow. It’s starting to look like the captain’s idea might have legs, as much as I hate to think about it.”

A thought with which Gotthilf wholeheartedly agreed.

* * *

Schardius looked up, a snarl on his face, as his secretary opened the door.