Relmyer could not keep still. He burnt with impatience. He was reading Luise’s notes, anticipating what she was going to say.

‘We don’t know anything more about them? This one, the oldest, Gregor, serves in the Austrian army. The regular army? The Landwehr? The volunteer force?’

‘I don’t know ...’

All his brothers are suspects! But you’ve found out almost nothing about them! The other two aren’t in Vienna any more, but where did they go? And his cousins! He has eight of them altogether ... or perhaps he has more and you’ve forgotten!’

Relmyer was exhausting himself running round the labyrinth of the lists of names and the arrows linking them to indicate the nature of their relationship to Hermann Teyhern.

‘Let’s stick to Teyhern,’ insisted Margont.

Luise’s fingers were trembling. ‘He never married,’ she went on. ‘Like his father, he worked for several years as an accountant for the Ministry of Finance. He had a lowly position and in 1801 was involved in a serious incident. Teyhern was accused of falsifying some accounts and embezzling money, quite large sums, the equivalent to fifty thousand of your francs.'

‘Fifty thousand francs? Fifty thousand francs?’ exclaimed Lefine, dazzled by such a sum.

‘Exactly. There was even a trial. But Teyhern was found not guilty. He nevertheless wanted to change jobs and he went to the Ministry of War.’

‘Not guilty?’ Margont was astonished. ‘Even we know that he was not exactly the most honest man ... Besides, he owns a superb house in Leiten. And his furniture? Marquetry chests of drawers, Louis XV armchairs ... Not to mention the porcelain, Turkish carpets ... Yet ministry employees aren’t well paid. Look at Konrad Sowsky: he was doing the same job as Teyhern but his way of life was nothing like as lavish. And from what you’ve told us, Luise, Teyhern did not come from a rich family.’

Luise agreed. A neighbour told us that Teyhern’s parents died of consumption in 1800 and that they left almost nothing to their children. And most people who knew Teyhern said that he was a spendthrift. He dressed according to the latest fashion, went often to restaurants or the opera, often visited antiquarians to buy works of art ... He was described as a misanthrope, always on his own, thinking only of himself. His work colleagues thought he came from a rich family, while his few friends imagined that he had an important post at the ministry and commanded a large salary/

‘So where did all his money come from?’

Relmyer was leaning against the table, his hands grasping the edge as if he would have liked to crush it.

‘He knew what happened to those young boys whose names he added to the military registers and exacted money for that/

‘No.' Luise objected. ‘He was already rich before joining the Ministry of War. He began to spend money hand over fist when he was still employed by the Ministry of Finance. After his trial many people thought he was guilty.'

‘Who was his lawyer?’ asked Margont.

‘Rudolph Rinz. But I crossed him out because he’s nearly sixty now. The trial was short. The prosecutor complained about the verdict. But the matter never went any further.’

‘What is the name of the judge?’

‘Vinzenz Knerkes. But it can’t be him either.’

Vinzenz Knerkes’ name was crossed out on a page covered in notes.

‘Why?’

‘Because it’s impossible.’

‘Why do you say that?’ Margont pressed her.

‘I’ve often heard him spoken of, always in a positive way. He’s respected by his peers. He has the reputation of judging the guilty harshly and he’s particularly severe on anyone who harms children or young people.’

Margont recalled the smiles the assassin carved on the faces of his young victims. Because they had been locked away for days and deprived of food and water, they could not defend themselves. That gave their tormentor the impression that they accepted the cruelty he inflicted on them. And in a way, the mutilation also created the impression that the young men had consented to their treatment. Perhaps the murderer did feel guilt. A guilt so intense, so destructive that he tried to exorcise it with his tactic of weakening his victims and then faking their smiles? ‘Perhaps the judge doubly condemns people who make young people suffer because he’s punishing them for their crimes and also for his own. One culprit escapes justice but another pays double. The assassin thus tries to ease the guilt racking him.’

This remark met a lively response. Lefine shook his head, too down to earth to accept such an abstract explanation. Luise refused to entertain the thought that a judge could be culpable. As for Relmyer, he was lost in the depths of his own reflections.

‘What age is Knerkes?’ asked Margont.

Luise was distraught. She had devoted so much time to her investigation and now Margont was putting his finger on one of the blanks in her research.

‘I didn’t find out about him ... I thought he was above all suspicion ... He must be more than forty. Yes, in fact he could be the right age ...’

‘A judge would be exempt from service in the Landwehr, otherwise the judicial system would not be able to function. On the other hand, as a representative of the Austrian state, he would not be able to escape joining the Viennese Volunteer regiment when the war came to the gates of the capital.’

‘Our judges always come from good families,’ added Luise.

‘So they are all made subaltern officers, even if they do not have a military background. And a judge is a prestigious position. Kn-erkes would have had enough authority to convince other officers of the Landwehr and some Viennese Volunteers to organise the ambush we were victims of Everything tallies with what we know about the murderer! Hermann Teyhern embezzled money: he was guilty. The judge certainly knew that, but against all expectation he declared him not guilty. Why? Perhaps he was paid to let him off. Then when Teyhern started working on the army registers, Knerkes decided to make him falsify them. Teyhern could not risk refusing - he was at Knerkes’ mercy. At the moment I think Knerkes is the prime suspect. Let’s show his portrait to someone who knows him/

‘Madame Blanken met him sometimes,’ announced Luise. ‘She held him in high regard because he had the reputation of championing children and young people. Lukas, I know when you said that someone had kidnapped you and Franz, Madame Blanken told Knerkes. She thought his help might be useful ...’

Margont’s expression hardened. ‘So without meaning to, Madame Blanken may have caused Franz’s death. Because if Knerkes is the culprit, he hurried back to Franz while Lukas and the rescue team were losing their way in the forest. It’s even possible that his position helped him to sabotage the police inquiry by setting them off on a false trail. Let’s go and talk to Madame Blanken.’

Madame Blanken confirmed that the portrait was of Judge Knerkes, but she refused to believe that he was responsible. She did agree, however, to give them his address. Knerkes was a widower and lived alone quite nearby in the village of Radlau, on the other side of the Danube.

CHAPTER 34

KNERKES rode alone across the fields. He smiled to himself, overjoyed still to be alive.

When the Archduke had ordered the retreat the day before, the regiments of professional soldiers had formed powerful marching columns, protected by the cavalry. But several battalions of the Landwehr and the Volunteers had dispersed, shedding deserters in droves. Knerkes had melted into the stream of the thousands fleeing.

He had hidden in a wood, waiting patiently until nightfall to let the Austrian army move far away. He had put on the civilian clothes that he had kept for this purpose. Having the rank of captain entitled him to a horse, but as he was a Volunteer the army had not yet provided him with one, as they were unable to equip such a large number of combatants. He therefore used his own mare and so there was nothing to indicate that he was an Austrian officer. From now on he would pass himself off as a civilian who had come home to collect his belongings before leaving to escape the effects of war.