Vienna Secrets

65

“YES,” SAID ASHER KUSEVITSKY, addressing Professor Priel. “Schnitzler had some interesting things to say about Lautenburg. The man’s a fool, just as I thought. I won’t be sending him any of my scripts in the future.”

The walls of Professor Priel’s parlor were covered in examples of modern art. They were mostly allegorical works, in which personifications of philosophy poetry, or music were rendered in a style that owed a considerable debt to Klimt. The figures, usually women, stared out full-face against a background of strong tonal contrasts. In addition, there were numerous contemporary portraits, some of which were quite disturbing. Sketches and watercolors of troubled individuals-emaciated, gaunt, their skin discolored, suggestive of putrescence. The models might have been recruited from a mortuary.

All the art that Professor Priel possessed had been made by impoverished young men who had benefited from a Rothenstein creative bursary. Although he wasn’t particularly fond of the portraits, he recognized that they were original and most probably indicative of a significant trend. He had not, however, purchased them as an investment. He had bought them to bolster the confidence of the young artists. They were always delighted to see their work hanging on his walls.

The only non-modern piece in Professor Priel’s collection was a plaster cast reproduction of Michelangelo’s Moses. It occupied a central position on the sideboard. Even though it was only a fraction of the size of the original, the copy was still powerfully evocative: Moses the lawgiver, seated like a Titan or a great warrior, his muscled arm resting on the commandment tablets, his long beard a wild tangle of writhing serpentine spirals.

A servant arrived with tea for the professor’s guests and a glass of magnetized water for the professor. A daily circuit of the Ringstrasse and a glass of magnetized water was-so he believed-the key to a long and healthy life.

“Gabriel,” Asher continued, “tell Professor Priel about Liebermann and the von Kortig business.” He then turned to face Priel. “Listen to this. It’s quite scandalous.”

Gabriel Kusevitsky repeated Liebermann’s story.

When he had finished, Professor Priel was silent, his head slowly shaking from side to side.

“It’s political, of course, and what worries me is where it could lead,” said Asher. He spoke quickly, making expressive gestures with his hands. “I mean to say, if Liebermann is dismissed-and they get away with it-who will be next? Where will it end? Lieutenant Gustl has already cost Schnitzler his rank in the reservists, and I don’t believe for one minute that it was because he broke the code of honor by writing it, as the authorities insist. It cost him his rank because he is a Jew. One can see where this is going. There are passages in The Dybbuk where I am critical of the church. If things continue like this, I wouldn’t be at all surprised if an official turns up and closes down the theatre.”

“Liebermann,” said the professor. “What’s his first name?”

“Max,” said Gabriel. “Professor Freud speaks very highly of him. I’ve read a few of his case studies and was most impressed by his paper on paranoia erotica. It would be a great shame if his career was blighted because of political opportunism.”

“Oh, then I really must do something,” said Professor Priel.

Gabriel sipped his tea and returned the cup to its saucer. On landing, it produced an unusually loud chime.

“Be that as it may,” Gabriel continued, “he is not very active in our circle. He has not associated himself with our charitable organizations and causes.”

“Is he a member of the lodge?”

“No, I don’t think he is. I met him there when Professor Freud gave his last talk, but I had never seen him there before-and have not seen him there since.”

“I don’t think that should concern us,” said the professor. “He is a talented young man with prospects. He needs help, and I may be in a position to provide it. Rothenstein has some exceptional lawyers in his employ. One can’t just stand by and watch something like this happening. Asher is quite right. In the end, if something isn’t done, we’ll all be affected. Never forget what Councillor Faust was proposing in his article. Where can I find him, this Liebermann fellow?”

Gabriel was dressed in the very same jacket that he had been wearing in the Cafe Central. He reached into his pocket, found Liebermann’s card, and gave it to Professor Priel.

“He works at the General Hospital.”

“Good. I’ll see what I can do.”

Priel took a swig of magnetized water. He could feel the energy coursing through his veins, invigorating and refreshing his nerves and muscles. He looked over at the reproduction of Moses. A good man’s work was never done.