picked up a stone and threw it in an arc. ‘Bang!’ he joked when it landed. ‘It doesn’t work with everyone. Some marry and go into business or work the land of their new family, others move away, hoping to change their luck … but many do become soldiers. I met Luise in the orphanage.’
Margont thought he had remained impassive, but perhaps his expression had changed because Lefine turned towards him as if he had given away his feelings. The sergeant’s face registered enlightenment. He had just discovered the key to the mystery.
‘She was abandoned when she was two years old. It’s terrible! She was barely older than I was. We grew up together. When she was eight, a miracle occurred. The miracle that we all dreamt of. She was adopted. Her new mother was beautiful! Elegant, considerate, smiling … and her father, although less warm, was also happy, even if he didn’t show it in public. The Mitterburgs are rich Viennese bourgeoisie. They came to Lesdorf because they couldn’t have children of their own. They chose Luise after three visits. The day they took her away, we all clustered round the carriage, in case they wanted a second child … I’m sorry, I’m boring you with my reminiscences. Anyway, for a long time there were three of us: Luise, Franz and me. Since we didn’t have any family, we made our own. Franz was our little brother, at least he was little in stature – he didn’t know his date of birth. We spent all our time together. After she left, Luise often came to see us. Or she badgered her parents to let us come and visit her. Everything was shattered one day in April 1804. I was fifteen at the time.’
His body grew rigid. His recollections were extremely painful. ‘Franz and I went for a walk in the forest. We were playing at … I don’t know what at.’
He did remember, in fact, but since then, childish pastimes had exasperated him.
‘We were playing hide-and-seek, not knowing that someone else was playing hide-and-seek with us. I don’t know how long the man had been watching us. A few minutes? An hour? Several days? Several weeks? We often went to the woods. Perhaps he had been spying on us for a long time, having worked out when we had free time. Or perhaps he came across us by accident. If you don’t know the area around Vienna, you won’t know that vast tracts have been cleared to make farmland. But several areas are still forested. It was springtime, the sun was shaded by leaves and the sunlight didn’t travel far. If you left the beaten track, it was easy to get lost. I had just surprised Franz behind some shrubbery and I threw myself on him. We were playing at war.’
Relmyer shivered. ‘I’m still playing at it today, in a way … The man appeared out of nowhere. He came from the forest, not along a path. I saw him briefly. He threatened us with a pistol and ordered us to turn round. I thought he was a robber, that he would let us go because we had nothing. But no. He forced us into the woods. We were walking in front of him and he was guiding us. He deliberately complicated the route. Finally we arrived at a ruined farm, very isolated. The road leading to it was completely obscured by branches and shrubs, the collapsed walls covered in ivy. He took us into one of the old buildings. There was a trap door, which led down into a cellar. After he had forced us into the cellar, he removed the ladder and left. He abandoned us there, imprisoned in that damned room like two birds in a cage!’
Margont felt the weight of oppression. Imprisonment, even imaginary imprisonment, was intolerable to him.
‘Franz and I were left there for hours with nothing to eat or drink. Later I learnt that we had been missing for two days. We could barely see, the trap door was impossible to reach, and in any case the man had removed the lock. We shouted and banged on the walls but no one came to our rescue. Who would be out walking in that area? And anyway, the cellar was in a much better state than the external walls, and the ceiling had been carefully sealed. The man had fitted out the cellar so that no one would be able to hear us. By the second day, we were so weak that our captor would have been able to do whatever he liked to us without our being able to defend ourselves …’
Relmyer then related his escape and how Franz had disappeared by the time he got back. ‘Franz’s body was found the next day in another part of the forest, hidden under branches. He had been stabbed and also abused. Someone had mutilated his corpse in exactly the same way as Wilhelm’s by carving a smile with a knife!’
Relmyer remained frozen, his face strained, as he recalled the horror of the body.
After a silence, Margont asked: ‘How long did it take for you to find help and get back to the cellar, after your escape?’
‘It’s hard to say. I was so exhausted I wasn’t exactly racing along, and of course I was lost in the forest. Eventually I stumbled on a path that led me out of the woods. I returned to Lesdorf and raised the alert. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the damned farm again. We had to wait for the police to arrive with several volunteers to organise a massive search and we finally found it. So I would say between seven and ten hours.’
Relmyer suddenly grew agitated. ‘There should have been a hue and cry about the whole affair, but relatively little was said. Madame Blanken, who financed and managed the orphanage, did everything in her power to prevent people knowing about the crime. She wanted to maintain the reputation of her orphanage. Madame Blanken is part of the Viennese establishment and she has good contacts, so she had no difficulty in achieving her aim. The investigators were ordered to be very discreet and only two newspapers reported the crime. Madame Blanken did sincerely want the perpetrator caught, but I am convinced – and I always will be! – that her silence severely hindered the investigation. I, on the other hand, had different ideas: I wanted the affair to have as much publicity as possible. I hoped that would eventually flush out some witnesses. I also thought it was important to warn the Viennese! The killer might be preparing to strike again, everyone should stay alert until the killer had been arrested!’
The tension that Relmyer had felt at the time resurfaced as powerfully as before. ‘My disagreement with Madame Blanken quickly became more and more virulent. Our points of view were completely incompatible. In the end she forbade me to mention Franz’s death and every time I did in spite of her, she punished me! I was to “forget”, leave the case to those who were competent to deal with it, and shut up! The man responsible was never identified. Gradually the police grew discouraged and abandoned their investigations despite my pleas and protests.’
‘Why the bizarre desire to cover the affair up?’ demanded Lefine.
‘Because, in Austria, the establishment has an obsessive fear of scandal. Appearances are much more important than reality. The honourable reputation of an institution far outweighed the murder of an orphan. If the truth had leaked out, Lesdorf Orphanage would have been harshly judged, and so would the police.’
‘It’s the same in France, and everywhere else,’ said Margont.
‘I couldn’t stand the failure of the investigation and the indifference of most of the people involved. Besides, I was worried that the assassin would come after me; I had briefly seen his face. A few months later I fled. I had begun to detest Austria, so I left the country. I wanted to live off my own resources but, rapidly falling into poverty, I decided to enlist in your army. I chose the army because in times of war they take on practically anyone. I was guaranteed board and lodging. And I chose the French army because they were firing on the Austrians. But the real reason I became a soldier was to learn to fight. I acquired fighting skills; I am no longer defenceless.’
The three men found themselves staring at Relmyer’s scabbard. They were all aware that it was a fearsome object guarding a blade that was the extension not only of a skilled hand but also of a determined will.
‘I always knew that I would come back here to settle the affair. It’s only that I have come a little earlier than expected. I would have preferred to wait three or four more years, to perfect my skills,
