The Emperor of All Things - By Paul Witcover Page 0,113

had penned the words. But Märchen was then just as you find it today: a humble town, prosperous enough but far from wealthy. We could not bear the financial burden of such an ambitious project.’

‘And yet the clock was built,’ I observed.

‘When my father conveyed his refusal, Herr Wachter made a generous counter-offer. In retrospect, suspiciously so. But at the time, we thought him merely eccentric. We had ample proof of his genius; we had no reason to doubt his sincerity.’

‘What was the offer?’

‘If the town agreed to provide for all the daily wants of his family, he would pay for the clock himself out of his personal fortune, for he was – or so he said – a wealthy man.’

‘And you believed him?’ I laughed outright. ‘Did your father not stop to wonder why a rich man would require the support of the town?’

Doppler gave me an angry scowl. ‘As I said, we thought him eccentric. Wealthy men often are. And so, for that matter, are clockmen.’

‘I suppose we clockmen have a certain reputation for eccentricity, not entirely undeserved,’ I was bound in all honesty to admit. ‘But we have no great reputation for wealth. A tower clock is a huge expense, as you know. I doubt even the grandmaster of my guild, by far its wealthiest member, could finance such a project.’ This was of course not entirely true. My own fortune, for example, was and is sufficient to build a hundred such towers. But that Herr Doppler did not need to know.

‘Even assuming Herr Wachter possessed sufficient funds,’ I continued, ‘why should he dip into his own pocket? The services of a master clockman are widely sought after and well recompensed. If Märchen could not afford to finance the clock, surely there were other, wealthier towns and patrons to whom Wachter could have applied with every expectation of success, whether here in Austria or in some other country – France or Russia, for instance, if not in England herself, which perhaps more than any other nation holds horology in high esteem. A man with Wachter’s talents could have won the patronage of kings and emperors … if, that is, he was what he claimed to be: a master of the Worshipful Company of Clockmakers. But I’m afraid this Wachter of yours was nothing of the sort. His actions prove it. I suspect he was an amateur, immensely gifted, to be sure, but also – if, as you say, the clock was intended to function in the manner that it does – more than a little mad.’

‘Mad? Perhaps – though the line between madness and genius is a thin and permeable one, I find. But you’re right that he did not belong to your Worshipful Company. After Wachter vanished, my father wrote to London. The guild had never heard of him.’

‘He should have written sooner.’

‘No doubt. But there was no evidence that Wachter was not exactly who and what he claimed to be. During the time he was with us, he laboured steadily on the tower clock and continued repairing our timepieces, as well as building new ones, all of which functioned perfectly.’

‘And how long was he with you?’

‘Nearly ten years,’ Doppler answered, then added defensively: ‘A tower clock is not built in a day.’

‘Still, Herr Doppler, do you mean to tell me that in ten years, no one in Märchen suspected there was anything odd about the tower clock going up right in their midst?’

‘How could we suspect? We are not experts in such things.’

‘The first true clockman to pass through town would have exposed him as a fraud.’

‘No doubt you are right, but no clockman did pass through. Those were unsettled times, Herr Gray. All of Europe was at war. Men did not wander so far off the beaten track as they do today.’

‘Yet Märchen couldn’t possibly have supplied him with all the necessary materials for such a project. Orders must have been placed, supplies delivered.’

‘Even in dangerous times, men will seek profit. Especially in such times.’

It was strange, but though Doppler’s answers to my questions were quite reasonable, I nevertheless felt myself becoming suspicious of them … and of him. His answers were too reasonable, if you see what I mean. Every objection I raised was so smoothly deflected that I couldn’t help wondering what he was hiding. ‘Go on,’ I prompted.

‘There is not much more to tell,’ he said with a shrug. ‘As agreed, we built him a fine house and provided him with