The Devil's Opera(196)
Burckardt looked around in a panic. Then he bolted through the door behind them.
Byron made no attempt to pursuit him. He just chuckled. “And now he has in effect confessed. You two had best go collect him before he gets hurt.”
“Right,” Gotthilf said with a grin. He headed for the door, followed by Honister.
* * *
The two sergeants stepped out the front door of the hospital, to behold Burckardt surrounded by scowling members of the Committees of Correspondence. Gunther Achterhof was standing in front of him with a slight smile, hard and cold, gently tapping a smith’s hammer against the palm of his left hand.
Chapter 73
“We were very sure it was him,” Byron explained to Mayor Gericke and Captain Reilly as Burckardt was being hauled away in handcuffs. “There were indications that he skimmed some of the money off of the currency exchanges he did for Schmidt, and we found some of the payroll money in his pocket. Stupid,” he said, shaking his head. “But smart enough to come with us rather than the CoC. We’ll see what else we can shake out of him.”
* * *
“Jacob, are you still muttering about the destruction of the Schöffenstuhl files?” Otto Gericke asked Jacob Lentke as he handed him a glass of wine at the end of their weekly conference.
Jacob took the glass with a frown. “Of course I am. Six hundred years of jurisprudence wiped out by that supreme vandal Pappenheim. Lawyers will curse him for generations to come.”
Otto smiled into his glass as he took a sip. He was going to enjoy this, he thought to himself.
“Jacob, how many cities are there in the Magdeburger Recht association?”
“Twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty,” Jacob replied. “I never can keep the list straight.”
“And how many of them received copies of judgments in the cases they referred to you?”
Jacob frowned. “The ones who submitted cases would receive copies of the decisions in those cases, yes. That doesn’t mean that copies went to all the cities, though, although a few would sometimes request copies of other judgments to provide precedents for issues they were facing.” His eyes began to widen as a thought apparently struck him.
“So,” Otto grinned, “hire some of the starving law students at Jena to go to those cities…”
“And make copies of their copies of the decisions,” Jacob said with excitement. “Otto, you are brilliant!”
“I know,” Otto replied smugly.
* * *
Gotthilf found himself alongside Byron confronting Gunther Achterhof. The CoC leader had stepped in front of them while they were walking to the police station several days after the conclusion of what was becoming known as the Burckardt Affair. He wasn’t sure just what Achterhof had in mind, but he wasn’t about to step back from him, hard reputation or no.
“Chieske, Hoch.” Achterhof nodded to them.
“Herr Achterhof,” Gotthilf replied as Byron returned the nod.
“It took you a while, but you found the truth in all of it.” Achterhof shrugged. “And I think you found more than we would have.” He nodded again. “Good job.”
The CoC man’s tone had sounded a bit on the begrudging side; but then, he wasn’t exactly known for being effusive. He nodded again, and turned and walked off, several of the known CoC strong men gathering behind him.
“I think that may have been the lamest ‘Thank you’ I’ve ever received,” Byron chuckled. “But coming from that man, I think we can take it.”
“Yah,” Gotthilf said. “We ought to write it up in a report and put it in the files.”
Byron laughed.
* * *
“Your Majesty,” Marla said as she sank into a graceful curtsey. She was wearing her favorite concert dress, the empire waisted royal blue velvet, and the curtsey did it justice. Franz made a bow, thankful in the back of his mind that he could wear trousers and didn’t have to follow his wife’s suit.
They were part of the people associated with the opera who had been invited to the palace. As royal receptions went, this one appeared to be pretty low-key; more of a salon than a presentation. Gustav was mingling with his guests, trailed by Princess Kristina and Prince Ulrik.
“Ah, the famous Frau Marla Linder, with the most beautiful voice.” Gustav sounded almost avuncular. “My daughter tells me that you also play the piano very well.”
“I try,” Marla responded.
“One day we will have you come and play for us. Oh, not now,” Gustav raised a hand as Marla turned toward the piano. “Another time, where we can give the attention such an event would deserve. But at the moment, I want to thank you for your labor in performing Arthur Rex. It was,” the emperor seemed to be searching for the right word, “compelling.”