The Hangman's Daughter

The manhole creaked open. A weary watchman stared at her. He stank of brandy and sleep. “I can’t help you there. You must go to Lechner.”

Only a short time later Magdalena stood before the gate of the ducal castle. The guards let her in but would not allow her to wake the court clerk. She shouted and scolded, until at last a window opened on the second floor of the residence.

“What’s all the racket down there, damn it?”

Lechner, in his nightgown, blinked sleepily down at her from his window. Magdalena seized her chance and told the clerk briefly what had happened. When she had finished her story, he nodded.

“I’m coming down right away. Wait there.”

Some time later they were walking with the night watchmen and the guards along the Augsburg Road toward the Hohenfurch Road. The men were armed with pikes and two muskets. They looked tired and did not give the impression that it was their greatest desire to get up before dawn to hunt for a few marauding soldiers. Johann Lechner had hurriedly put on his doublet and cloak, and his hair was tousled under his official cap. He looked suspiciously at Magdalena.

“I only hope you are telling the truth. Otherwise both of you—you and your father—can look out for trouble. And anyway, what is the hangman doing outside on the Hohenfurch Road at this time? Respectable burghers stay at home! Lately, your father has had a bit too much to say for my taste. He should torment and hang, and otherwise keep his mouth shut, by God!”

Magdalena bowed her head humbly.

“We were gathering herbs in the woods. Haircap moss and mugwort. You know, they can only be picked by moonlight.”

“Devilish stuff, that! And what was Fronwieser’s son doing there? I don’t believe one word of it, hangman’s daughter!”

In the meantime dawn started to break. The watchmen extinguished their lanterns as they approached the misty clearing near the road. Further back on a pile of wood sat the hangman and the physician.

Johann Lechner stamped up to the two men. “Well? Where are your vandals? I can’t see anything. And the building site looks exactly as it did yesterday!”

Jakob Kuisl rose. “They fled before they could destroy anything. I hit one of them in the face.”

“Oh, yes. And where is he now?” probed the clerk.

“He…didn’t look well. The others took him with them.”

“Kuisl, give me one reason why I should believe this story.”

“Tell me one reason why I should otherwise call you out here in the middle of the night.”

The hangman now approached the clerk.

“There were five,” said Kuisl emphatically. “Four of them were soldiers. The fifth was…somebody else. Their patron, I assume. And I believe he comes from the town.”

The clerk smiled. “I don’t suppose you recognized him, by any chance?”

“It was too dark,” Simon now joined the discussion. “But the others talked about him. They called him Moneybags. He must be a rich burgher.”

“And why should this rich burgher commission a couple of soldiers to vandalize the building site of the leper house?” Lechner interrupted.

“They didn’t damage it. They were looking for something,” said Simon.

“What now? Did they destroy the building site, or were they looking for something? First you said that they were going to destroy it.”

“Damn it, Lechner,” growled Jakob Kuisl. “Don’t be so slow-witted! Someone hired these men to upset everything here, something that would hinder the workers, so that their patron could look for what is hidden here in peace!”

“But that’s nonsense!” interrupted Johann Lechner. “They didn’t gain anything by damaging things. The work is still proceeding in spite of everything.”

“There were delays, though,” added Simon.

Jakob Kuisl fell silent. The clerk was just about to turn away when the hangman suddenly spoke again.

“The foundations.”

“What?”

“The patron must suppose that the treasure, or whatever it is, lies under the foundations. When the building work here is finished he won’t be able to get at it anymore. Then buildings of stone will stand here, all mortared and walled up, so he has to interfere with the work and in the meantime turn over every bit of earth until he finds what he is looking for.”

“That’s right!” cried Simon. “When we were here the first time, parts of the foundation were dug out knee-deep. Someone had put the flagstones neatly aside. And tonight, too, one of the men was prying up the flagstones with a pole!”

Johann Lechner shook his head.

“Tales of treasure hunters and a mysterious search at midnight…Do you expect me to believe that?” He waved his hand over the clearing. “What thing of any value could be hidden here? The land belongs to the church, as you know. If there were anything to be found here, the parish priest would have discovered it in his documents. Every bit of church land is exactly recorded: the floor plan, position, previous history…”

“Not this one,” Jakob Kuisl interrupted him. “This site was presented to the church by old Schreevogl, only a short time ago, to ease his entrance into paradise. The church knows nothing about this land, nothing at all.”