Chapter the Third

A Visit to the Palace



Which is what led him to Dr Auspitz's study. Inside, the Headmaster was fully engaged in a mound of paperwork and was not pleased to see Klacel, whom he considered a troublemaker.
"What do you want?" he asked in his regional German accent, which always grated on Brother Matthew's sensitive Czech ear.
Brother Matthew did not fully explain his mission, but expressed sympathy for what had happened yesterday and went on to say that, as the book had been in his charge, he did feel some responsibility.
"Where is it now?" he asked.
"Since it belongs to Monsignor Schrattenbach, he kept it," Dr Auspitz told him.
"Ahh," said Klacel, "this will not please Prior Sembera, but it cannot be helped. Perhaps the monastery will get it back when this incident blows over."
"I doubt it," said the Headmaster with a sniff, "Monsignor Schrattenbach did not seem to pleased that the book had been removed from the monastery library in the first place, so he is unlikely to return it to you."
"We'll see," said Brother Matthew, with a confidence he did not feel. Like everyone else in this affair, no matter how he looked at it, the only person who seemed to benefit was Brother Timothy.

"I wish I had time to talk with you more, Klacel," said the Headmaster, completely without feeling, "but I am a busy man. If that is all?"
"Just one last thing," Brother Matthew said, getting to his feet, "At lunch time yesterday, did you, Herr Druer and Brother Timothy leave all together?"
Auspitz thought for a moment. "We all left my study together, but I don't remember Brother Timothy coming with us out onto Janska Street."
"So you probably last saw him in the main hallway?"
"Yes, I think that is right."
"Why didn't he come with you, did he have other business at the school?"
"Not to my knowledge, but what has this got to do with the theft of the book?"
"Thank you," said Klacel, and turned to leave.

Some time later, after a brisk walk along Kozi street and across the picturesque Jakubske Namesti, Brother Matthew found himself waiting outside Monsignor Joseph Schrattenbach's study in the Mistodrzitesky palac. These buildings, attached to the Church of St Thomas, had once been the home of Monastery in Brno until the monks were forced out by the edicts of Emperor Josef II. Now they were used by the Bishop for his staff. Unlike the Augustinians, who had suffered from the move, the Bishop's administrators had made themselves very comfortable and no expense had been spared in furnishing the rooms and offices to the highest quality.

As he waited to see the Monsignor, Brother Matthew sat comfortably on a polished oak bench and watched the coming and goings of the Bishop's palace staff. A constant procession of servants crossed the main hallway carrying trays of food from the kitchens on the left to the main dining area on the right. Curious, Brother Matthew got to his feet and strolled down to the open doorways. Food was being cooked, not in the palace as he had thought, but in an adjoining building. It was then carried in covered trays along a stone tiled corridor and placed in a holding room in which liveried servants transferred it to fine plates and servers. It was trays of these plates that were then carried across the main hallway into the dinning area.

"Monsignor will see you now."
Klacel's investigations were interrupted by a frock-coated individual with a very superior attitude, who sniffed audibly at Klacel's homespun clothing and obvious Czech origins. With palpable reluctance, the equerry escorted the monk into Monsignor Schrattenbach's inner sanctum and left him standing before a magnificent desk like an errant schoolboy waiting to see the authorities. Behind the desk sat Monsignor Schrattenbach and while the Bishop's secretary finished the sentence he was writing, Brother Matthew had time to go over in his mind what he knew about the priest before him.

Holy orders sat lightly on this prelate. He knew that he came from a powerful and well established family that went back generations. It had been his grandfather, Count Franz Anton Schrattenbach, the brother of Salzburg's archbishop, who had entertained the Mozart family during their flight from smallpox, and various of his Uncles had been scions of the church, military and political sphere for as long as their were oiled portraits in the several family mansions around Austria. He knew his worth and took his inevitable promotion to higher stations in life as naturally as Klacel ate his black pudding each day.

When at last he looked up from his writing, Klacel saw a man of middle years, middle height and middling good looks. His hair was beginning to recede across a small head, leaving a wispy set of eyebrows guarding close set, dark brown eyes that never seemed to blink. This was probably an illusion, but a powerful one. Thin lips betrayed a certain seriousness that was strangely offset by clear lines from nose to mouth that are normally seen on the faces of those who smile a lot. Certainly there was no smile on Josef Schrattenbach's face as he spoke to Klacel.