Vienna Secrets

28

THE CHANCELLOR’S EXPRESSION WAS serious, and his eyes glinted coldly behind his spectacles.

“Herr Doctor, I regret to say that the matter of young Baron von Kortig’s death and your obstruction of Father Benedikt has come to the attention of a journalist.”

Liebermann raised his eyebrows. “May I ask, sir, how it was that a journalist came to be so well informed?”

“I have no idea; however, it should not surprise us to learn that journalists are always trying to find things out. That is, after all, what they do.”

“With respect, Professor Gandler, I have never known such a relatively minor matter to attract the interest of the press before.”

“I can assure you, Herr Doctor, that matters of faith are never minor.” The chancellor’s expression became even more grave. After what seemed like an exceptionally long pause he continued, “I am obliged to ask you a sensitive question, Herr Doctor. When we last spoke, did you omit any important detail from your account of what happened that night?”

Liebermann wondered what the chancellor might be alluding to.

“I don’t think so. The baron was dying. Father Benedikt wanted to give him the last rites, and I explained that I did not think this was in the patient’s interests. The priest objected… he asked my name, and he left. That, essentially, is all there is to tell.”

“Unfortunately, Herr Doctor, the journalist has written a rather different story. An allegation is made, concerning the employment of force.”

Liebermann was speechless. He touched his chest, as if to say, By me? The chancellor confirmed this with a solemn nod.

“Oh, that is utterly absurd!” Liebermann cried. “I have never heard anything so ridiculous… Besides, there were witnesses present.”

“Indeed.” The word was not encouraging, quite the opposite. “Think back, Herr Doctor,” continued Professor Gandler. “When the priest tried to enter the ward, what did you do?”

“I told him he couldn’t go through.”

“Yes, but what did you actually do?”

“I may have…” Liebermann lowered his voice. “I may have put my arm across the doorway.”

“In other words, you forcibly barred his admittance.”

Liebermann raised his hands in frustration. “Well, you could say that. But it would be a gross misrepresentation of the facts.”

“Would it really?”

“Yes. To say that I forcibly barred his admittance makes it sound like some kind of assault took place. I merely rested my hand against the doorjamb.”

Professor Gandler scowled and repositioned some papers on his desk. “Had you apologized to the committee when I advised you to, Herr Doctor, this problem might have been swiftly and quietly resolved. Instead, you chose to disregard my advice. This article will attract unwanted publicity, the kind that could potentially damage our fine reputation.” The chancellor tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk. “A written apology might still stop things from going any further…”

Liebermann shook his head. “I’m sorry, Professor Gandler…”

“Once again, I would urge you to reconsider. This situation could easily escalate, and if it does, you will be sorry.”

Liebermann ignored the chancellor’s thinly disguised threat.

“Where did this article appear, Professor Gandler?”

The chancellor opened his drawer and pulled out a folded newspaper. He tossed it across the desk, and it landed so that the masthead was exposed. It read: Das Vaterland. At once Liebermann understood what was really going on. He looked up at the chancellor, and for a moment was consoled by a glimmer of sympathy.