The Olden Wooden Tool of Witch Trials

A researcher is being examined by a rozzer. At some point, the researcher's body—namely, my body—is attached to a cable connecting a device. I am being examined with a lie detector, which, although the device does not guarantee 100 percent accuracy, the data can be a consideration. That device is what made the police say that they "strongly recommend" that I meet face-to-face.

I, myself, have no problem with the device. I have no interest in lying; I will answer honestly. I have clear proof of what I was doing at the time of Mr. Warm's death.

The officer named Lallo Kaplan Langfelder has also confirmed that he does not consider me a person worthy of suspicion. "You have strong evidence that you were indeed on vacation at that time, Wissenmeister Schonewolken," said Langfelder.

Langfelder's questions made me think that the news written by the media about the estimated time and how Mr. Warm died was correct information. Mr. Warm was estimated to have died around 12 to 13 hours before his body was found in the Hinter Lake. He is estimated to have died of poisoning around 3 to 4 a.m. on January 1st—at that time, I was still in Bharat.

I have shared a lot of information and answered many questions. Finally, the police had the opportunity to ask me questions and give me information.

“Wissenmeister Schonewolken has been a member of the Five for almost three years, right? With one of his qualifications being a postgraduate degree in history, right?” Langfelder asked.

“Yes. I have explained that before, right, in great detail?” I replied. I emphasized, “I guarantee that what I said is true and there are no mistakes that I said intentionally or unintentionally.”

Langfelder said, “I will show you something that we have not revealed to the mass media. I think this has something to do with Wissenmeister Schonewolken’s academic background as a postgraduate in history.”

Langfelder then turned on the hologram on his gadget, which showed a photo. The photo made my eyes widen; I couldn't hide my disbelief. I spontaneously spoke in a high tone, "That's ...!"

From staring at the photo, my eyes shifted to Langelder. Still with a shocked expression, I asked Langfelder, "Is that what you mean, the suspiciously large stool-like device that tied Mr. Herzwarm's body?!?!"

Langfelder nodded his head.

I looked at the large device again. The large device was on the shore of Hinter Lake. It seems like it's made from strong wood—I guess it was oak.

At the bottom, the device had four fairly large wheels, with the wheels driving a large board on top. The large board was a place for a seesaw to stand. At the end of the seesaw above the water of the lake, there was a chair.

While I was still fixated on the photo of the device, Langfelder asked, “As a high-level history postgraduate, it seems that Wissenmeister Schonewolken has seen a device like this, right?”

I nodded. Without looking at Langfelder, I expressed the knowledge stored in my brain: “To me, this device looks like a ducking stool.”

My mind was a little distracted. At that moment, I remembered the news that said the police had found a ‘suspiciously large stool-like device.’ Maybe law enforcement deliberately stated ‘stool-like’ instead of ‘seesaw-like.’

If the police had said ‘stool-like,’ the general public would probably assume that Mr. Warm was held captive in a chair and then drowned in Hinter Lake. However, if the official police statement had said ‘seesaw-like,’ the public reaction would have been much more intense.

I can imagine the comments that would have come up: “What? A seesaw? Isn’t a seesaw too strange to be involved in someone’s death—or someone's murder? What is this? Could it be that Mr. Herzwarm’s death was a certain eerie ritual?”

I also thought, if the police had fully uncovered this case, they wouldn’t be considered to be lying—or lying too much—if they clarified that ‘stool-like’ was actually ‘seesaw-like.’

That’s when Langfelder brought my focus back by asking me, “And Wissenmeister Schonewolken seems to know what a ducking stool is.”

I nodded, and looking Langfelder in the eye, I explained, “The ducking stool is a tool that existed in ancient times. This tool was one of the women's punishment tools at that time. It is a wooden tool that looks like the one in the photo—like a seesaw. The tool is shaped in such a way, with a chair at one end of the seesaw. The chair would be where the victim was tied, where the victim would be thrown in—lifted—thrown in."

"And the victim was?" Langfelder asked.

I replied, "The victim of the tool could be people who were considered guilty. Women who did not obey the law, dishonest merchants, and scolds—yes, in those days people who often argued and fought with their neighbors could be considered criminals."

"Anything else, Wissenmeister Schonewolken?" Langfelder seemed to feel that there was still information that I could bring up.

I revealed the knowledge stored in my brain: “There is a special case of the use of this tool. The case is the judgment of someone who is suspected of being a witch. For this case, the victim can sit on a chair; sometimes the chair is also equipped with an iron cage, or the victim can be tied directly.”

Langfelder just nodded his head in response. I continued my explanation: “The suspected witch is immersed in the water for 10 to 20 seconds, then she is lifted. When she is out of the water, she has the opportunity to admit that she is a conspirator with the devil or a witch.

I keep sharing information: "This mechanism of immersion and lifting is repeated until the suspect admits to being a witch or dies by drowning. If they confess, they will be hanged or burned to death. If they die by drowning, they are considered innocent—their accusation of being a witch is wrong, and they are guaranteed to go to heaven. However, if someone dies in the water but their body floats, they are also considered to be a witch.”

Langfelder commented, “That’s consistent with what the historian we contacted said, Wissenmeister Schonewolken. But not like you; he wouldn’t be able to answer other questions, like mathematics, computer programming, and aeroengineering. I think that’s the quality of a member of the Five.”

I responded, “Excuse me, Mr. Langfelder, that’s a bit off topic.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I apologize,” Langfelder said.

I brought the subject back to the topic by asking, “In that chair…” The police officer seemed to know what I wanted to ask without having to wait for my verbal question to be fully uttered.

Langfelder explained, “In that chair was the body of Wissenmeister Herzwarm tied. The two eyewitnesses who first saw him described that Wissenmeister Herzwarm’s body was tied to the chair at the end of the seesaw and that the seesaw was submerged in the lake at the time.”

Langfelder added the information he shared: “This is the condition of the seesaw after we lifted the body of Wissenmeister Herzwarm. The end of the seesaw where the chair was attached is lifted.”

Then I asked, “Then what about the other end of the seesaw? What’s there?”

Langfelder explained, “It seems that there are iron robotic arms that are probably used for the movement mechanism of the seesaw. By the way, we have also checked the bottom of the device; there is also a machine there to move the wheels. So to move the device, there is no need to push or pull it with hands; it must have a remote control, and we have found where the remote is.”

“Where?” I asked.

Langfelder replied, “In the pocket of the shirt that Wissenmeister Herzwarm was wearing at that time.”

I immediately expressed my thoughts: “But even if there was a remote there, couldn’t the device be moved by another remote?”

Langfelder said, “Yes, we know what Wissenmeister Schonewolke meant. We don’t assume that Wissenmeister Herzwam was the one who moved the device.”

I nodded my head, then looked at the device again and commented, “There also seems to be a weight at the end.”

Langfelder confirmed, “That’s right, Wissenmeister Schonewolken. We’ve checked it. There’s a weight that we’ve checked is shisu wood. Then there’s something attached to the weight.”

I asked, “What’s stuck there?”

Langfelder pressed his gadget and showed another photo on the hologram. He said, “We think what’s stuck there is a suicide note, written by Wissenmeister Herzwarm.”

Once again, I am aghast. With that shocked face, I read the letter carefully.