The Devil's Opera(168)
“Since I knew where you could be found, Frau Amber Higham, director of the production and wife of Heinrich Schütz, the composer, asked me to drop these by.”
Marla held up her hand, and Herr Sylwester placed several cards in it. She handed two to Gronow and two to Friedrich.
“There you go, boys, your own personal invitations to the premiere performance of the opera Arthur Rex, music by Heinrich Schütz, libretto by Johann Gronow. Don’t be late.”
She waved and smiled, Franz nodded, and they turned and headed for the door.
The four men looked at each other. Silently Gronow passed one of the invitations to Seelbach, and Friedrich did the same with Plavius. They all four read the richly engraved invitations, verifying that they were indeed entitled to attend the performance that evening.
Their mutual silence was broken by Plavius.
“Friedrich, lend me two pfennigs, please.”
“Whatever for?”
“I must go redeem my best coat from the loan agent. I cannot go to the opera wearing this.”
Plavius waved a hand at the threadbare, worn, and stained garment he was wearing at that moment.
Friedrich sighed, and dug into a pocket.
* * *
“Simon?”
Sergeant Hoch’s hand was on his shoulder. Simon dragged his sleeve across his face and looked up at him.
“We need to go tell Fraulein Metzger. Do you have a pastor?”
Simon started to shake his head, but found himself nodding instead. “Pastor Gruber, at St. Jacob’s.”
Simon didn’t speak during their walk to the church. His mind was occupied with Why did Hans take the fight? Why? If he hadn’t taken the fight, he wouldn’t have crossed Master Schardius. Those grieving thoughts ran over and over through Simon’s mind as one step followed another. Hans could have turned down the fight, couldn’t he? Heart numb, heart cold, he took aimless steps in a shell of silence amid the bustling of the streets.
Simon’s next conscious perception was of the sun shining on the front of St. Jacob’s church as he neared it. He stopped for a moment, looking at the gray stone of the building. Again he heard Pastor Gruber’s voice from their talk about Samson. “But he was a very proud man, filled with what the Greeks call hubris, so he did what he wanted.”
It dawned on him that, as much as he liked his friend, Hans and Samson had been alike in something besides their physical strength. In the end, Hans’ pride and anger brought him down. But Simon also took some consolation that, just like Samson, Hans had company in his death.
“Simon?”
Pastor Gruber approached them from the small side door of the church, clutching his coat and holding his hat on his head against the fitful breezes.
“Pastor Gruber?” the sergeant asked.
“Yah, that is me.”
“I am Sergeant Gotthilf Hoch, of the Magdeburg Polizei. Would you come with us, please?”
The pastor said, “Certainly, but why?” He fell into place beside Simon as they turned.
Simon looked up at him. “My friend Hans is dead. We need to tell his sister.”
“Ah.” The old pastor had a very sad expression on his face. “Of course I will come with you. Has this Hans a surname?”
“Metzger,” Sergeant Hoch replied.
“Hans Metzger.” The old pastor’s eyebrows climbed. “The fighter?”
“You’ve heard of him,” the sergeant asked in amusement.
Pastor Gruber coughed a bit, then said, “Sergeant, one hears many unusual things serving in a church like St. Jacob’s.”
“I can imagine.” The sergeant’s amusement grew.
The old pastor looked down to Simon again. “Samson?”
Simon nodded, biting his lip as tears trickled again. “Yah.”
“I see.”
The old pastor laid an arm around Simon’s shoulder. Simon shuddered, then leaned against the old man, finding solace in an embrace that he had experienced so very seldom in his life.
There were no more words spoken, but from time to time as he trudged along, Simon would look up to see Pastor Gruber’s lips moving silently. Maybe he was praying; maybe he was reciting scriptures. Either way, Simon drew some small amount of comfort from that.
They came to a stop in front of the Hoch family townhouse. Pastor Gruber’s eyebrows raised again, and he looked over at the sergeant.
“My family’s home,” Sergeant Hoch explained. “Fraulein Metzger has been staying here, for her protection.”
“I…see.” The pastor’s voice was neutral.
The two older men looked down at Simon. A long moment passed before he realized they were waiting on him to move. With a heavy sigh, he walked up the steps and opened the front door, followed by the two men.