Apothecary Melchior and the Mystery of St Olaf's Church (34 page)

‘Harju farmers may trade well with the Order and with Tallinn,' he said, ‘but they understand nothing of the Word of the Lord, and the vassals give them far too many rights. I want to preach, but my duties keep me within the monastery walls. I digress, however. You did not come here to speak of this, Melchior.'

Melchior shook his head. He had not asked to be led to Wunbaldus's chamber, but he understood that Hinricus brought him here as it was the only place in the monastery where they could talk in private.

‘I am interested in Wunbaldus,' Melchior began. ‘I want to know why he killed Clingenstain, who he was, where he came from and when.'

‘Of course,' Hinricus replied. ‘So I thought. Likely you will want to see our register. I will go to the scriptorium to fetch it.'

Left alone in Wunbaldus's chamber, Melchior looked around the dim room and noticed small puddles of water caught in depressions in the stone floor. Wunbaldus had been washed in this room, but Melchior remembered clearly that only his tunic had been bloody. He spotted something white beneath the rough-hewn table, and when he leaned
down for a closer look he discovered it was a box containing the chess pieces the Prior and Wunbaldus had played with. He thought for a moment and then opened the box, carefully selected some pieces and set them on the board in the same arrangement as he had back at the pharmacy when Freisinger had so generously shared his knowledge of the game. Melchior then sat waiting for Hinricus, who appeared after a short time, holding a record book bound in leather and sealed with iron rings under his arm.

‘You really should have asked the Prior about Wunbaldus,' he said after taking a seat. ‘Prior Eckell was the one who accepted him into the monastery and was his overseer in every matter.' The monk's gaze fell upon the chessboard, but he showed no surprise.

‘I just … out of interest …' Melchior coughed in an off-hand manner. ‘I found these under the table. I imagine a lot of chess is played in the monastery.'

‘There certainly is,' Hinricus nodded, ‘although I have heard that not all brothers in our Dominican Order approve of the game. Prior Eckell and Wunbaldus played often, though.'

‘And yourself?'

‘I don't play. Wunbaldus always defeated the Prior. For as long as I can remember they had always played chess, and Wunbaldus always won. As far as I am aware the Prior was always white and could thus make the first move to give him a better chance, but he still lost. The Prior also played by himself sometimes, although he was probably not really playing but just moving the pieces around the board.'

Melchior did everything he could not to betray any reaction to this, tensing his hands into fists under the table while nodding casually.

‘As if they were meant to represent living people?' he asked. ‘They say that the game of chess can be a reflection of life.'

‘Indeed they do. The Prior loved to meditate behind the chessboard when faced with a difficult situation. He would, of course, search for instruction from the Scriptures and holy books, but once in a while he would arrange pieces on the board as if looking for guidance on how to act. But the Prior and Wunbaldus … I think they had probably known one another somewhere before, although I don't know where. I remember once overhearing a conversation they were having.' Hinricus spoke in a tired voice. An incident had taken place in the garden. A tünder of salt had apparently tipped over from some height, and Wunbaldus managed
to push the Prior out of the way before it landed on top of him. The Prior had thanked the Lay Brother and said he had once again saved the life of a Dominican, that it was the fourth occasion. The Prior mentioned some three brothers – three Dominican brothers – who would have been martyred were it not for Wunbaldus. However, the pair had then noticed the
cellarius
, and Hinricus never heard them speak of it again.

‘Indeed,' Melchior mumbled. ‘The Prior said something to me about the lives of three holy men having been saved when we were here viewing Wunbaldus's body. I did not understand exactly what he meant. Did Wunbaldus ever mention anything?'

Hinricus smiled slightly apologetically. ‘Melchior, we Dominicans have not come into the monastery to speak to one another about our lives nor to preach to one other. We have come to declare the Word of the Lord but not amongst ourselves. Our way of living is quiet. Concerning Wunbaldus, well, it is true that – and I know because I do our accounts – our income has risen since he came. Whether trading herring, selling beer or purchasing grain from the countryside, our monastery has never before had such a successful merchant as Brother Wunbaldus.'

Hinricus opened the large register and leafed through the pages.

‘Does that also hold records of where Wunbaldus came from?'

‘No … actually it doesn't,' Hinricus murmured, narrowing his eyes and looking more closely at the text. ‘It simply says “earlier amongst the brothers in Oxford, England”. I was just a novice when he arrived, but I do remember that Wunbaldus got along pretty well with Prior Eckell from the start. The Prior even recorded the reception of Wunbaldus as a lay brother here with his own hand and … something has been scratched out.'

Melchior likewise looked closer. He saw that two words before Wunbaldus's name had been crossed out. ‘“Receive to our monastery without a trial period Brother —” Hm. Then there are two strike marks and only then comes his name. Did Prior Eckell make this entry?'

‘He and none other.'

‘Very interesting,' Melchior spoke slowly. ‘As if he had not been sure of the brother's name, yet they had met one another before?'

Hinricus shrugged.

‘And the Prior was Wunbaldus's overseer?' Melchior persisted.

‘Yes. I should probably mention also that no other brother or lay brother was ever so close to the Prior. He even gave Wunbaldus this
separate room here where he could work and sleep without interruption. But, as I said, Brother Wunbaldus was of great benefit to our monastery.'

‘There is no mention here of how many monasteries he had lived in before.'

‘On rare occasions he did allude to monastery life elsewhere, although not in any detail. The other monks and I were under the impression that he had served elsewhere as a lay brother with the Dominicans before coming here. As I now read in this book, that time was in England. However, Prior Eckell alone might have been the only man who knew where he was born and in which other monasteries he had lived. Brother Wunbaldus knew the Scriptures and canon law better than any of our other lay brothers, and perhaps even better than our sacristan.'

‘And – or so I understand – he was familiar with medicinal practices, too?'

‘He knew them better than our infirmarer, yes indeed.'

They both fell silent, as if the conversation had reached a point where neither wished to put their thoughts into words, and they would have been happier if the topic could just be passed over.

Melchior broke the silence. ‘Yet, in spite of all this, the man steps out one day, chops the heads off two people, goes to confess at the Church of the Holy Ghost and then drinks down a cup of poison.'

‘Stranger things have happened below the heavens,' Hinricus whispered and closed his eyes for a fleeting moment.

‘Has a Dominican brother ever taken confession at the Church of the Holy Ghost before?'

‘If any has then we would not know because of the secrecy of the confessional. Although, yes, it is an odd thing to have done.'

‘I only knew Wunbaldus in passing, but you lived with him,' Melchior spoke carefully.

‘He was a man who wore a lay brother's habit. Not all of us are capable of leaving the secular world once within the monastery walls. However, it always seemed to me that, while some of our brothers have simply ended up amongst the Dominicans, Wunbaldus was here because he
had
to be. He probably felt God's calling more strongly than many. And as regards the killings – if he actually did perform those acts – then once again it would have been because he believed he had to do so.'

‘Isn't that what all murderers believe?' Melchior asked sombrely.

‘I cannot say for certain; I do not know how the murderer's mind
works. However, Wunbaldus was a man with a strong will. He always finished something that he believed was just and necessary. As I said, not all of us are capable of leaving the secular world behind. No matter how strenuously we might strive to do so we may still be accompanied by hatred, jealousy, greed and hubris. Some sin or anger from our old life may remain within each of us, something that a person does not quite wish to alleviate through the Word of the Lord. Dominicans are not required to lock themselves away behind monastery walls. The mundane world should recede, but we still engage with it daily.'

Hinricus's voice had grown louder as he spoke, and he now leaned forward with a flash of passion in his tired eyes. Melchior could not tell at first whether this was meant to be a speech in defence of Wunbaldus or whether he was expressing his own thoughts, his own doubts. Hinricus suddenly fell silent and sat staring directly at Melchior, surprised, as if he could hardly believe he had said so much in one go.

Melchior had grasped some kind of subtext in the monk's discourse that he had perhaps not dared to say more plainly.

‘Are you saying that Wunbaldus might have experienced something here in Tallinn, something that drove him to kill? That it might not necessarily be anything to do with his past?'

‘Perhaps that is what I indeed thought,' Hinricus replied. ‘We Dominicans do not shut ourselves in behind the monastery walls. We go out amongst the people. We preach. We see people's toils and their pain … and cruelty and injustice.'

‘Some kind of horrible injustice that had to be put to right … You mean something of that nature could have led Wunbaldus into temptation despite having been such a resolved and determined man?'

‘Yet we
do not know
that,' Hinricus exclaimed. ‘He found it hard to lose his temper, and if you are wondering whether a woman could have led him into temptation, then no, I would doubt that. Wunbaldus was in the monastery because he
wanted
to be here. He was convinced that this place was the right one for him. Not all brothers – and I speak not only of lay brothers – are as unwavering as he was.'

‘But you all spend a great deal of time outside the monastery – and people also change over time, Brother Hinricus.'

‘No, not him, not Wunbaldus,' Hinricus remained firm. ‘He may have transformed several times over the course of his life, but his final change was the decision to enter the monastery.'

‘That is an interesting point,' Melchior remarked, ‘and I believe that you are correct. Yet now, Hinricus, may I ask in greater detail how the monastery gates are secured and opened? I know the gate is not locked during the day.'

‘It isn't.'

‘Anyone may enter and exit without the doorkeeper having to remember a person's face?'

‘Johannes, our old doorkeeper, probably doesn't even remember his own name. If you want to know whether Wunbaldus could possibly have slipped out from his chamber to kill Gallenreutter, then yes, and we asked Johannes about it. He just crossed himself and chanted, “Lord have mercy”, over and over. In short, Melchior, the Swedish king's entire army could have marched in and out of our gates without him noticing.'

‘And everyone knows this?' Melchior continued.

‘Yes, as one can imagine, this is hardly a secret. He locked the gates at about the usual time, just as he always does following the evening service and after all the townspeople have left and the monks begin to retire for the night. It was an absolutely ordinary evening in our monastery, Melchior.'

‘An ordinary evening,' Melchior pronounced slowly. ‘Nothing at all unusual took place? Nothing out of the ordinary with the lay brothers' white habits? None was unaccounted for and no unexplained blood spots on any?'

Hinricus raised his head as if he just heard something surprising. ‘Habits? You mean the lay brothers' white tunics? Yes, now you mention it, we couldn't find one of Wunbaldus's tunics this morning. Every lay brother has two so he always has a clean one, and for his burial we had to find … that is, once we've reached a decision on how and where to bury him or what to do with his body …' Hinricus broke off, and Melchior nodded.

‘I understand,' he spoke quickly.

‘Yes,' Hinricus continued, ‘we wanted to dress him in a clean tunic, but it was nowhere to be found. Why do you ask? Or do you know where it is?'

Melchior closed his eyes for a moment to conceal the triumph that would have showed in them. When he reopened them he had regained his composure, and only the corners of his lips quivered slightly as if he were smothering a contented chuckle.

‘Where it is?' he echoed. ‘I believe that it is not very far from here.' The Apothecary then rose to his feet. ‘I thank you from the bottom of my heart, Brother Hinricus, in both my name and that of the Town Council. I believe that you have helped me take a small step closer towards unravelling this entire mystery.'

M
ASTER
G
OLDSMITH
C
ASENDORPE
heard news of the miracle at the Church of the Holy Ghost as he was walking near Seppade Gate with his daughter Hedwig. He stopped short and asked the journeyman at the mint, who was announcing the news, just what golden collar he was talking about.

‘I know nothing more. All I heard is that a golden collar has appeared in the donations box of the almshouse at the Church of the Holy Ghost. As if St Victor himself had walked past and just dropped it in. The Master Goldsmith should go to the church to see for himself,' the journeyman responded and hurried off.