The Hangman's Daughter

Deep in thought Jakob Kuisl had walked homeward through the tanners’ quarter down by the river. It was just a few hundred yards more along the main road to his house. Shortly before, he had informed Lechner that the midwife was unable to be questioned. The court clerk had stared at him blankly and then nodded. He wasn’t accusatory, and Jakob Kuisl almost got the impression Lechner had expected as much.

At last, however, he gave the hangman a piercing glare.

“You know what comes next, Kuisl, don’t you?”

“I don’t understand, Your Excellency.”

“When the Elector’s secretary arrives, you’ll have busy days. Keep yourself ready.”

“Your Excellency, I trust that we are quite close to the solution…”

But the clerk had already turned away. He seemed to have lost all interest in the man facing him.

As the path took a turn around the last few blackberry bushes, Jakob Kuisl could see his backyard, which stretched from the lane all the way down to the pond. The meadow by the pond was heavy with pussy willows. Wolfsbane and daisies were sparkling in the damp meadows and the herbal garden, recently turned over, was steaming in the sun. For the first time this day, a smile played about the hangman’s lips.

Suddenly his features froze.

A man was sitting on the bench in front of the hangman’s house. His face was turned toward the sun, and his eyes were closed. When he heard Jakob Kuisl at the garden gate, he blinked as if waking up from a beautiful dream. He was wearing a hat with roosters’ feathers and a bloodred doublet. The hand he used for keeping the sun from his face was bright white.

The devil looked at Jakob Kuisl and smiled.

“Ah, the hangman! What a wonderful garden you have here! I’m sure your wife takes good care of it, or little Magdalena, if I’m right.”

Jakob Kuisl remained motionless at the garden gate. Casually, he picked up a rock from the wall, weighing and hiding it in his hand. One well-aimed throw…

“Ah, yes, little Magdalena,” the devil continued. “A sprightly lass, ravishingly beautiful. Just like her mother. I wonder if her nipples get hard when one whispers cruel words in her ear. I’ll have to try.”

Jakob Kuisl clenched his fist around the rock so hard that the edges cut into his flesh.

“What do you want?” he murmured.

The devil rose and walked over to the windowsill, where a jug of water was standing. Slowly he put it to his lips and drank in deep gulps. Drops ran down his beard and dripped to the ground. Only when he had emptied the jug did he set it down, wiping his mouth with his hand.

“What do I want? The question is rather, what do you want? Do you want to see your daughter again, and in one piece? Or perhaps rather in two halves, like a carcass, after I’ve cut off her chattering lips?”

Jakob Kuisl raised his hand and hurled the rock directly at the devil’s forehead. In a movement almost too quick to be seen, the devil ducked to the side, and the rock hit the door without doing him any harm.

For a brief moment the devil appeared startled. Then he smiled again.

“You’re fast, hangman. I like that. And you’re good at killing. Just like myself.”

Suddenly his face contorted into a hideous grimace. For a moment Jakob Kuisl thought the man in front of him was going stark mad. But then the devil got a hold of himself again. His face became blank.

Kuisl took a long look at him. He…knew that man. He just didn’t remember from where he knew him. He racked his brain, searching it for that face. Where had he seen the man before? In the war? On a battlefield?

The sound of the breaking ceramic jug startled him from his thoughts. The devil had casually thrown it behind himself.

“Enough small talk,” he whispered. “This is my offer. You show me where the treasure is, and I return your daughter. If not…” He slowly licked his lips.

Jakob Kuisl shook his head. “I don’t know where the treasure is.”

“Then find out,” the devil hissed. “You’re usually so smart. Think of something. We dug up the entire building site and didn’t find anything. But the treasure has to be there.”

Jakob Kuisl’s mouth was dry. He tried to remain calm. He had to stall the devil. If only he could get closer…

“Don’t even think of it, hangman,” the devil whispered. “My friends are taking good care of the little hangman’s daughter. If I’m not back within the next half hour, they’re going to do to her precisely what I told them to do. There are two of them, and they will have great fun.”

Jakob Kuisl raised his hands to calm him.

“What about the bailiffs?” he asked, trying to buy time. His throat was hoarse. “There are sentries at the building site both day and night.”

“That’s your problem.” The devil turned to go. “Same time tomorrow I’ll be back. By then you have the treasure or else…”

He shrugged, almost apologetically. Then he ambled off toward the pond.

“What about your patron?” the hangman shouted after him. “Who is behind all this?”