Chapter 15.

'Can you guess who they are, Stiffeniis?'

Immanuel Kant's voice was hoa.r.s.e with the cold. There was a strident, triumphant note in it which robbed me of the power of speech. I could not drag my eyes away from the large gla.s.s jars lined up on the shelf, where four human heads floated in a pale, straw-coloured liquid.

'Draw closer,' Kant invited, taking me by the arm. 'Now, let me introduce you to Jan Konnen, Paula-Anne Brunner, Johann Gottfried Haase and this one here, a newcomer that you probably recognise, having seen him last night in the cellar at the Court House. Would you bring down the exhibit on the far left, Sergeant Koch, and place it on this table?'

Stunned horror written on his face, Koch obeyed without a word.

I was incapable of forming any coherent thought as I stared at the gruesome contents of the gla.s.s jar that Koch set before us on a table, while Kant was the soul of affable sociability. He might have been arranging the chairs for a tea party.

'Bring another lamp, Sergeant Koch. That's it, yes. And place it there. Just there!' Kant's voice battered painfully on my inner ear. 'Now, tell me, Stiffeniis. What can you see inside this jar?'

The lights on either side threw the human lineaments into sharp relief.

I swallowed hard, my voice little more than a whisper: 'It is a...a head, sir.'

'This was Jan Konnen, the first victim of the murderer. Now, I would like you to describe precisely what you are able to observe, and with all the accuracy at your disposal. Come, come, Stiffeniis!' he encouraged. 'A head?'

'A human head,' I corrected myself, 'which belongs...that is, which used to belong to a man aged about fifty. Despite the distorting effects of the gla.s.s jar, the facial features are regular, and...'

I stopped short. I knew not what to say next.

'Describe what you can see,' Kant pressed. 'I ask no more. Start at the crown of the head, then slowly work your way down.'

I attempted to shake off the numbing sense of inadequacy which had taken possession of me. 'His hair is tinged with grey. It is thin on top, almost bald, and worn long around the ears.'

'Covering the ears,' Kant corrected me.

'Covering the ears, yes. The forehead is...'

I baulked again. What in the name of G.o.d was I supposed to say?

'Don't stop! Go on!' Kant prodded impatiently.

'The...forehead is broad and it is without wrinkles.'

'And that vertical split where the eyebrows meet? Was it there before the man died? Or did it appear at the moment of his death?'

I took a step forward and peered closely.

'I have no way of knowing, sir,' I mumbled.

'Use your intuition!'

'It looks like a puzzled frown,' I suggested, examining the furrow closely.

'Would you not expect such a frown to fade away after death?'

'But it has not,' I said at last.

'This was the final expression on his face. It appeared at the moment of his death. The victim's facial muscles were paralysed in that precise expression. This is a well-known phenomenon. Any soldier with experience on the field of battle has seen a similar expression a hundred times before. It is of some importance,' added Kant. 'Now, what have you to say about the eyes?'

I looked into the unseeing eyes inside the jar. If Man has a soul, the ancients say, its light is visible there. If the body has a vital spirit, the ghost manifests itself through those windows. What so disconcerted me about the detached head of Jan Konnen was the sensation that he was watching us as intently as we were studying him.

'The victim's eyes have rolled up in their sockets, exposing the whites,' I forced myself to say.

'Could there be an explanation?'

I was bewildered. 'There is no literature on such matters, sir. I...Anatomy texts exist, of course, but not in a case like this one. Not concerning murder.'

'Very good, Stiffeniis. You see the tricky ground we are on? We have no authority to guide us. We must use our eyes, trust our observations, and make the deductions that logical inference suggests. This will be our method.'

'Perhaps the blow came from above?' I suggested. 'He glanced up when he was struck?'

Kant made a sound of approval. 'Did the blow come from above, or from behind? We are uncertain as yet, but we will not allow ourselves to be distracted by the question. Now, look at that nose, Stiffeniis! What can you read in it?' he quizzed, though he did not wait for an answer. 'That it is long, thin, and utterly undistinguished? And so we come to the mouth. How would you describe that?'

'Open?' I offered.

'Wide open?'

'Not entirely,' I said, defending my choice of word.

'Would you say that he was screaming when he died?'

There was something in Professor Kant's hungry expression that caused me to quake. For a moment, my head began to spin and I thought I was about to faint.

'Screaming, sir?' I echoed.

'An open mouth suggests that he was screaming in the instant that he met his death, wouldn't you say?'

I forced myself to look more carefully. 'No, sir, I would not. I would say that he was not screaming.'

'What was he doing, then? What kind of sound could have come from his mouth?'

'A gasp of surprise? A sigh?'

'Would you say that something dramatic and violent happened to produce that expression?' Kant went on.

'No, sir.'

'And I would agree with you. Now, Stiffeniis, the cause of death. Can you suggest what might have been the death stroke?'

'There is no unsightly wound to the face itself,' I floundered. 'Was clear evidence found elsewhere on the body?'

'The body does not interest us. It is the head, the head, which has its story to tell. Would you turn the jar, Sergeant?'

The candlelight cast a jaundiced sickly glow as the head rolled lazily in the cloudy liquid. 'Observe, Stiffeniis. Here at the base of the cranium. There was no resistance. The instrument went in like a hot knife cutting lard, But it was not a knife...'

These were the words with which I originally began this narration. At that time, I intended to celebrate the incredible versatility of the genius of Immanuel Kant, and hoped to reflect my own small part in the resolution of a mystery which held the city of Konigsberg in thrall. But those words marked the first clear signpost on my personal road into the maze of corruption, treachery and evil that had been so carefully mapped out for me.

'Can you see it?' Kant bent close and pointed. 'The mortal stroke was delivered here. Death came quickly and it was unexpected. It was not a violent blow, there is no unsightly penetration. Something sharp and pointed entered Konnen's neck just here, and he was dead on his knees before he even realised what was happening. This tiny spot is all the evidence that remains of the attack.'

He paused for an instant, as if to emphasise the vital importance of what he said next.

'If I have understood you well, among the variety of weapons that Ulrich Totz claims to have used, he made no mention of anything which would leave a mark such as this.' His eager eyes darted quickly at me, and I felt a drowning sense of nausea, as if I had just received a violent blow to my own head.

'Koch, bring down another. Any jar will do.' Professor Kant's voice was tremulous with excitement as he picked up the nearest lamp and moved it closer to the second severed head. 'The same mark is evident here,' he said, rapping his forefinger sharply on the gla.s.s. 'Do you see it now?'

The scalp of Paula-Anne Brunner had been shaved away at the back, long red hair remaining on the crown and at the sides only. To my young eyes, there was something foul in such a desecration, the bare nudity of the woman's skull somehow suggestive of the stealthy violence by which she had met her death.

'There is an identical mark on Tifferch's neck,' he concluded flatly. Then with a sigh he added, 'If you had stayed to watch Vigilantius at work last night, you would have known straight away that Morik was not killed by the person you are here to chase. Totz is not the killer we are looking for.'

'Is this the work of Vigilantius?' I asked in a whisper.

In the dim light I thought I saw an expression of satisfaction settle on Kant's hungry face. 'The doctor is the creme de la creme of European anatomists!' he confirmed with pride, as if he had done the disgusting work himself.

The ingratiating smile on the necromancer's lips flashed before my eyes, taking on a new and more sinister significance. 'You may have finished your business, sir,' he had said with scorn the night before. 'But I have something more to do.'

I imagined him, pulling out the instruments from beneath his large mantle. What could they have been? Sharp knives, a medical saw, pointed scalpels, as he bent over that anatomical table and a.s.saulted the corpse, cutting mercilessly away at the vulnerable remains of Lawyer Tifferch.

My anger flashed at Kant's lavish praise of the man.

'This proves that he's a charlatan, sir. He had no need to ask the spirit of the dead man to tell him how he had been killed. He knew the answer already!'

Kant placed a pacifying hand on my sleeve. 'You are unjust, Stiffeniis. The doctor had not performed the first dissection when he suggested in that histrionic and slightly irritating manner of his that the cause of death was to be found at the base of the dead man's head. The corpse had already spoken to him. The cutting came later.'

The dead man spoke?

'Professor Kant...' I began to protest.

'How did you guess, sir?'

Koch's question took us both by surprise.

'Excuse me, Professor Kant,' the sergeant said, and flushed with embarra.s.sment, 'I did not mean to interrupt your speculations, but I am puzzled. How did you understand so quickly the significance of the murder of Jan Konnen? At that time, there was no way of knowing that similar crimes would follow on.'

Kant half closed his eyes, a contented smile illuminating his face.

'I have been collating vital information regarding the incidence of death in Konigsberg for many years, Sergeant,' he said. 'About a year ago, I received my weekly report from the local police. A corpse was mentioned for which no evident cause of death had been identified. Now, that was most irregular. The physician called to certify the death had failed to notice that tiny perforation in the neck of Konnen. Cause of death unknown. How was I to include such a death in my statistics? Had the man died, or had he been killed? I asked for the body to be donated to the University, and, by a fortunate turn of events, Doctor Vigilantius was lecturing at the Collegium Albertinum that very week. Having learned in conversation that he was also an experienced anatomist, I took advantage of the circ.u.mstance in two ways. Firstly, I was curious to see how a Swedenborgian communicates with the spirits of the dead. Secondly, I wished to preserve the evidence that you have just seen. When a similar murder occurred some months later, I saw the link, asked for the corpse, and sent for Doctor Vigilantius to repeat the operation.'

'Did Procurator Rhunken know of this place, sir?' asked Koch, making a sweeping gesture with his hand to indicate the whole laboratory.

Kant dismissed the idea with a flash of annoyance.

'Your master was not prepared to consider the utility of the evidence I was a.s.sembling here. He ridiculed my findings as the ramblings of senility! By using standard police procedures, he would never have caught the killer. The murderer's taste for his work was gaining in momentum, terror was mounting in the city, the King was worried about a possible French invasion, and he wanted the case to be solved without delay, I suggested to His Majesty some weeks ago that Procurator Rhunken be removed from his post. Special talents were needed here. Talents such as those of Augustus Vigilantius...'

'And myself,' I added.

Kant placed his hand on my arm and smiled warmly. 'Now you know why I sent for you, Hanno,' he said. 'Only someone who has visited the land of shadows can cope with what is happening here in Konigsberg. As you are well aware, the darkest impulses of the human heart go far beyond Reason and Logic.'

Impulses of the human heart which go beyond Reason...

I froze. I had used that very phrase myself, the first time that we had met.

'That's why I sent you to The Baltic Whaler,' he said, his eyes sparkling mischievously. 'It seemed to be the obvious place to start. That inn had been the scene of the first murder, and rumours were rife that the owner was a sympathiser of Bonaparte. Morik, the serving boy, aroused his master's suspicions, I'm afraid. Now, that I did not foresee,' he added thoughtfully. 'Still, Totz killed him, and he used a hammer to do the deed, as he confessed to you. In doing so, he eliminated himself from our investigation. That must be clear to you by now, I hope.'

'Why did you not tell me at once, sir? You let me go blundering on in the name of Logic.'

I had been too easily persuaded of a political cause. That is, I had too easily convinced myself of it. Everything had fallen into place: the lurid contents of Herr Tifferch's cupboard, Morik's idle gossip, all that I had seen and heard at the inn, Ulrich Totz's confession, his poor wife's smile! I had twisted the facts to suit my theory. And in doing so, I had proven myself to be a mindless fool in the eyes of the very person who had trusted so much in my good qualities.

'You believed that you had definitive proof,' Kant continued. 'You would not accept anything else to the contrary, even when it was as plain as the nose on your face. Remember what I told you, Hanno. Your investigation must aim to reconstruct how things happened. It will not tell you why they happened in that way. The motivation is still hidden in darkness. Logic and Rationality do not guide the human heart, though they may explain its pa.s.sions.'

He extracted a doc.u.ment from one of the files, and laid it on the table.

'Look at this,' he said.

Koch and I bent close in the flickering light. It was nothing more than a sheet of paper, on which an image had been sketched. There was not a trace of art in the drawing, just a vague outline of a kneeling body propped against a wall. There was a ghoulish contrast between the technical imperfection of the picture, and the simple figure that it portrayed. As if a child, distracted from daubing flowers and fairies, had chanced upon a scene of the most irresistible horror and innocently tried to capture the image on paper.

'What is it, sir?' asked Koch uneasily.

'Two gendarmes were sent to the scene of the first murder by Rhunken. I had already begun to conduct a parallel investigation using my own methods, of which I had privately informed the King. I instructed the same two gendarmes to sketch what they remembered having seen at the scene of the crime. This became a standard procedure for each of the following murders. The other drawings are in those files over there if you need them,' Kant pointed. 'They portray the exact positions in which each of the bodies was found.'

'You sent soldiers to draw dead bodies, sir?'

Kant laughed shrilly before replying to Koch's question.

'Unusual, don't you agree? One of the soldiers proved his worth. Whenever a suspect corpse was found, I told Lublinsky to make a sketch of the scene for me. I paid him for his efforts, of course.'

'A cross on a pay chit's more than most of them can manage,' Koch returned with surprise. 'May I ask another question, Professor Kant?'

Koch's eyes darted anxiously around the room.

'All this, this...' he muttered nervously. 'Bodies without heads! Why, it's...it's a monstrosity, sir. What do you hope to achieve by it?'

Kant turned to me and smiled as if Koch had never opened his mouth.

'The dead do speak to us, you know, Hanno. Now, do not misunderstand me. I have not been converted to Swedenborg's way of thinking. In this room, in this instant, a murdered man is the object of our scrutiny. By examining the physical evidence and scrutinising the circ.u.mstances, we can draw reasonable conclusions about where and when his murder was committed. These factors may help us in their turn to understand how the crime was enacted, and what was used to do the deed. Finally, if our intuitions have not played us false, we may even be able to conclude who his killer is. Morik was killed by Totz, and no one else. Now, the body of this dead man can tell us a great deal about the person who killed him.'

'You aim to reconstruct conditions at the scene of the murder, do you not?' asked Koch before I could speak.

'That is my intention, Sergeant. You have witnessed the usefulness of this 'monstrosity', as you choose to call it. Without these gla.s.s jars and their contents, Procurator Stiffeniis would have proceeded blithely on in the wrong direction and accused Ulrich Totz of crimes that he had never committed. Now, he can correct that error,' Kant said with quiet satisfaction.