The second conversation I need to have is one I’d rather put off until Monday, when there will be people around, but when I get home, the door to the workshop is open. I go inside and see Jacob standing by the ovens.
“What are you doing here?” I ask.
“Keeping an eye on the fire,” says Jacob, his gaze fixed on one of the kilns.
“Didn’t you go to church?”
“No, I haven’t been going there for a long time.” He turns to face me. “And I wanted to speak to you. It’s been long enough, Catrin. I want an answer.”
“Tomorrow.”
“No, today. You already know what you’re going to say to me tomorrow.”
“Fine then. I’m not going to marry you, Jacob. I don’t love you and I don’t see any advantage in marrying you from a business point of view either.” There, I’ve said it. Calmly and collectedly.
Jacob’s face transforms, as if it’s made of liquid. A cold glint appears in his eyes and his smile vanishes. “No advantage from a business point of view? You’re clearly not thinking straight, Catrin. I can bring down this whole company, and you.”
“I think not.” My quiet self-assurance makes him uncertain; I can see it in his slight frown. “By the way, you’re fired. I almost forgot to say.”
He approaches me slowly. “You can’t do that. You can’t fire me.”
“Yes, I can. I just did. I want you to pack your things and leave Delft. If you’re still here tomorrow morning, then I’m going to the bailiff and having you investigated for murder.”
His face is a picture. “You’re going to inform on me?”
“For murdering Evert. I don’t know what you gave him, but it certainly didn’t make him better. What was in it? I reckon it was digitalis, foxglove, so that his heart stopped immediately. You know enough about herbs to make some kind of concoction. Handy, a plague epidemic like that. An excellent opportunity to get someone out of the way without arousing suspicion. I think you mixed larger and larger amounts into his food until he died. That explains why he was lying there so peacefully. He had a heart attack.”
Jacob laughs. It sounds like a warning and he doesn’t seem shocked. “He had the plague, Catrin. Several people saw that.”
“What did they see? The blue stains you put on his neck? Last night, I stood mixing paint until I had midnight blue. The exact color that would suggest a bruise. Unfortunately, you spilled some. On the ladder and on the edge of the bed.”
Jacob comes closer, still smiling. “But of course, you’re not going to tell anyone that. Because you’re not so innocent yourself, my dear little Catrin. You never told me how it feels, pressing a pillow down on someone’s face until he suffocates. Did Govert wake up? Did he fight? Did he know what was coming? At least Evert didn’t know what was happening; you can’t say the same about what you did. So excuse me, but you’re no better.”
“Govert abused me! He murdered my baby, he made my life a living hell. He would have murdered me one day, if I hadn’t got there first.”
“It’s still murder. I don’t see the difference.”
“The difference is that Evert never did anything to you. In fact, he showed you nothing but kindness. You murdered him so you could marry me and take over the company. As if I’d ever have gone along with that! You make me sick!” I spit the words in his face.
Jacob grabs my arm. “And yet that is what’s going to happen. You’re going to be my beautiful, obedient wife and together we’re going to make this a successful business. I’ll be a father to your child and we’ll have children together, too. I’m already looking forward to getting started.” He grins broadly.
“Keep dreaming, because that’s never going to happen,” I say, wrenching myself free. “You can’t threaten or blackmail me any longer. I spoke to Isaac, the sheriff, and he told me that one witness isn’t enough to get someone convicted. There needs to be supporting evidence, and there isn’t. Sadly, the same applies to you, otherwise you’d be in prison now. But I trust that God will punish you.”
A leaden silence falls, in which we each wait for the other to break their gaze.
“Fine,” says Jacob finally. “If that’s how things are . . . You can have your way, Catrin. I’m offering you protection and a comfortable life, but if you don’t want them, I’m not going to force you. I’ll be damned if I’ll let you take my job away from me, though. Look!” He shows me his arms, which are covered in burns. “I’ve put my heart and soul into this business, I’ve got a right to my fair share. You can buy me out.”
“What are you on about? I’m not giving you a thing! Get out of here, and be quick about it.”
He laughs. “Fiery as always. It’s a shame, we’re such a good match. But on second thought, I’d prefer a well-behaved wife. What to do with you, though? You’re actually crazy enough to go to the bailiff.” He looks about himself, frowning, then goes over to the oven. “I know. You opened the kiln for some reason or other, your sleeve caught and there was a fire. There was no one around to help you . . . How tragic. They’ll find your charred body among the rubble and all your new friends will mourn at your funeral. But by then I’ll be far away.”
He pulls open the door of the kiln and sticks a long piece of wood inside. Then he holds the burning end of the wood against the basket of kindling until it catches fire.
“Stop it!” I fly at him, push him to one side and kick over the basket so I can stamp out the flames.
Laughing, he sets fire to more things, flames spring up next to the supply of paint and oil and next to the packing straw for the delivery crates. After a slow start, everything is now ablaze.
I look around wildly. There’s no water on hand to put it out, my business is doomed!
I run toward the open door but Jacob blocks the way, a piece of burning wood held in his hand like a sword. His face is twisted in the most evil expression, a grimace that renders him barely recognizable.
“Jacob, please!”
He shows no sign of emotion whatsoever as he drives me into a corner, blocking my attempts to escape with the flaming stick in his hand. The workshop is filling with smoke by this time and I hold my arm up to cover my mouth.
“You said you loved me! Let’s talk, I—”
“Shut it!” he says. “We’ve talked enough. I gave you every chance, now it’s done.” He holds out the flaming torch to my billowing skirt. The lace ribbons catch and crackle, the fire spreads upwards in a straight line. I throw the thick fabric of my skirt over them to put them out, but Jacob is pressing the burning wood to my clothes in so many places that I haven’t got enough hands. I start to scream.
“Stop that! Be quiet!” He lifts the piece of wood.
With my hands over my head, I ready myself to catch the blow and scream as I see the burning end rushing down at me.
As I’m waiting for the blow to come, Jacob collapses. He falls to the ground like a ragdoll, the torch still in his hands. Klaas is standing behind him with an axe. Blood is spreading across the floor, along with something else that’s coming from Jacob’s head.
Speechless, I look to Klaas, who stares back at me, his face contorted in horror.
People appear in the doorway. Lit up by the flames, they form an indistinguishable mass. They shout for water and try to smother the flames with hastily removed articles of clothing. Two women slap at the smoldering flames on my jerkin and skirt and get me outside, where a crowd is forming. Windows and doors are thrown open, there’s shouting coming from all around. A fire that gets out of hand can destroy the whole town, so within minutes everyone is on the streets. Several chains form between the pottery and the canal, where buckets of water are drawn and passed from person to person along the line.
I lend a hand. I’m not in any pain, the flames didn’t get through the thick layers of clothing. I sweat to save my business and don’t stop even once to look inside, where Jacob’s body is burning to ash.