The Werewolf of Bamberg Read Online Free PDF Page B

for that, so you can spare yourself all that hooey.”
    “Come on, tell us,” Magdalena begged him. She knew how much her father loved stringing people along, and she, too, was curious. “Just tell us before Simon starts losing sleep over it.”
    Kuisl grinned. “I guess I owe him that.” As the others walked ahead, he explained.
    “The skin was wrinkled like that of an old man, but there were no calluses on his hands—on the contrary, they were soft as a baby’s bottom. In addition, the remaining fingertips showed spots of ink that had eaten their way deep into the body. Ah, yes, and on one of the well-manicured fingernails there was still a tiny speck of sealing wax. As I said, I have eyes. That’s all you need.”
    “But all that stuff you said about looking for a bride, and gout,” Simon persisted, “what’s that all about?”
    “Oh, for God’s sake, what are you? A bathhouse owner or a quack? Didn’t you notice the gnarled joints and the white spots? If you can read books, why can’t you read people?” Jakob Kuisl spat on the ground, disgusted. “The joints were so enlarged that I almost didn’t see the pale, whitish circle on the ring finger. The man had worn his wedding ring a long time, probably several decades, but had taken it off recently. That’s something a man does only when he’s out looking for someone else. He was traveling and probably looking for another woman. But . . .”
    Kuisl stopped to think as the wagons in front of them slowly started moving again. Their own wagon, steered by the old peasant, approached, rattling and squeaking.
    “What else did you learn?” Magdalena asked. “Is there perhaps something you’ve kept from us and the others?”
    Jakob Kuisl shrugged. “Well, actually, there is something that puzzles me. You could assume the man was murdered—and that his murderers left his body in the forest where wild animals finally found him and ripped him apart. He came to rest with his arm in the water and was washed ashore today by the rain.”
    “But that’s not what happened,” Simon said softly. “Right?”
    “No, that isn’t what happened. I took a close look at the joint, and there are no bite marks. The arm was severed cleanly. It was no animal; only a person makes a clean cut like that. This poor devil was slaughtered like a piece of meat—but why, and by whom? I have no explanation for that.”
    The hangman shook the rain out of his hair and pulled himself back up onto the coachbox, where the farmer, who had heard the last part of what he’d said, stared at him and trembled like he was looking at a nightmare incarnate.

    They arrived in Bamberg shortly before dusk, entering through the Tanggass Gate. In the last few hours they’d heard wolves howling several times, though very far away in the forests. Nevertheless, after the events at the river, the sounds had been enough to make Barbara, in particular, turn white. Was that perhaps the beast the people were talking about?
    At least the rain had finally stopped, though the road was still as muddy and full of puddles as before, so the progress of the wagons was very slow. The whole area surrounding the city was swampy and full of small rivers, brooks, and canals, especially in the southern part, which was an almost impenetrable wilderness. In the east there were fields and farmland, though now, at the end of October, they were barren and fallow.
    Magdalena turned up her nose in disgust; the odor with which the city greeted them was so pungent it made them gag. Along the right-hand side of the street was a wide ditch that dried up just before reaching the gate, forming a thick, foul-smelling morass. Rotten fruit and the carcasses of small animals floated in the puddles. A wide, moldering walkway led across the swamp toward the city wall, where now, shortly before it was time to close the gates, the wagons were backing up. Surely a good number of people in the wagons would have to spend the night in the