Free HS02 - Days of Atonement by Michael Gregorio

He used it carelessly, the way a teacher calls the name of one to catch the attention of many.
    ‘He only kills the largest specimens,’ he continued. ‘He skins them, chops them to bits, then impales the useless heads on stakes like so many scarecrows.’
    ‘Is that what he uses them for?’ I asked, won over by this clever interpretation of those horrid trophies. As a child, I remembered helping our serfs to plant their men of straw to frighten off the ravaging birds in my father’s cornfields.
    ‘Only the larger heads. They tell us that Durskeitner is an able hunter, and proud of his skills. Also, they frighten off scavengers that might feed on the fresh meat. Which brings us back to these cages.’ Lavedrine walked along one row, running his fingers against the bars with a loud clicking sound as his nails struck the uprights. ‘They contain animals that are small by nature, or in terms of maturity. So, what does he feed them on?’ His finger suddenly stopped, pointing into a cage that held three lynx kittens whobegan to spit and snarl ferociously. ‘These have been fed on meat. Fresh meat, and generously. There’s still a good bit left inside the cage. Liver, by the look of it, and from a large deer, like the one hanging up outside. Each one of the carnivores—there are hundreds here—has been rewarded with a piece of meat from a larger animal. He treats them well, but when they outgrow his pleasure, he’ll kill them, too. It is an endless chain, and Durskeitner exploits it like the dominator that he is. Can you see one single large animal inside the hut?’
    Like children set loose on a treasure hunt, Mutiez and I began peeping into the cages. I would have liked to find the exception that brought his castle tumbling down, though I was disappointed.
    ‘You’re right, sir!’ Mutiez cried excitedly, darting around the room.
    If he were right, I asked myself, did the evidence prove that Durskeitner was the author of the massacre, or was Lavedrine convinced that the man was innocent? Something in the Frenchman’s manner made me less than certain of his opinion. And in the course of his detailed disquisition on the arrangement of the animals, he had made no reply to the question that Mutiez had asked.
    ‘What is this physical defect?’ I asked.
    ‘Are you asking me, or Mutiez?’ Lavedrine replied with a sardonic smile. ‘Do you trust my intuition, or must he tell us what he knows for a fact?’
    ‘Before we entered the cottage,’ I reminded him, ‘you claimed to be able to read the signs at the scene of a crime by means of your senses alone. I should like to see this remarkable talent put to work, sir. Here and now. As you say, Mutiez will confirm the accuracy of your predictions.’
    Was it a challenge? I suppose it was, yet I knew that I should have been grateful for his refusal to condemn a vagrant Prussian mole-catcher out of hand. Mutiez had said nothing to deny that he had touched on a remarkable truth. The die was cast against me. But it did not change the fact that I found the Frenchman’s ability to deduce physical deformity in Durskeitner so disquieting.
    What had he seen in that hut, that I had not?
    ‘Procurator Stiffeniis is surprised by my hypothesis, Mutiez. He asks you to confirm or deny it. Durskeitner is deformed, is he not?’
    Mutiez scratched his neck inside his collar, an embarrassed smile on his face.
    ‘I . . .’
    ‘Stop there!’ Lavedrine cried out, taking a step towards him. ‘Let us say that this man is
not
of normal height. Let’s say that he is affected by “nanismus”. By which I mean that he is a dwarf.’
    Mutiez touched his side below the ribcage with the peak of his
képi
. ‘Thishigh, sir. If he’d lived anywhere else, he’d be entertaining kings. But here in Prussia, giants are revered.’
    ‘I am right then. And for no better reason than his diminutive size,’ Lavedrine concluded, raising his hands like a lawyer, ‘you, Henri Mutiez, consider this