Greed and Gallows: Wilhelm's Medieval Mystery

The rain fell heavily on the cobblestone streets of Munich. A cold, unyielding rain that chased all the citizens into their houses. The stench of sewage and unwashed bodies was no longer masked by the sweet aroma of summer flowers and freshly baked breads. It was a gloomy night in Bavaria.

A lone figure walked down the street. He had a muscular physique and long hair, wrapped in a bandana. He wore simple clothes - a leather jacket, trousers and heavy boots - but they were well-maintained. He was clean shaven and his eyes were sharp. On his left arm, he carried a small pannier bag containing his belongings. A silver chain could be seen hanging from the pocket of his shirt. This was Wilhelm, the biker who travelled Europe following the sun through winter and summer alike. His travels took him as far north as Denmark and as far south as Greece, and everywhere in between, including this rainy little town in Germany. He had been travelling for years now, often returning to visit his parents in Munich but never staying for long. They disapproved of his lifestyle but couldn't stop him from doing what he wanted to do, so they just let him go on with it while they kept the house tidy and continued to work hard at their jobs like good little Germans. When he finally decided to return home, it was because he had heard about a mysterious murder that took place nearby on an estate owned by one of the richest families in Bavaria, a family whose members lived together on an isolated manor farm since centuries ago. Rumours spread quickly, but nobody knew anything. The investigation was still ongoing, and closed doors were being guarded day and night by police officers to make sure no journalists or other curious onlookers could get inside the crime scene and poke around where they shouldn't be poking around, at least not until all the evidence had been collected and analyzed for further clues about the mystery that surrounded this eventful night.

Wilhelm came to a bridge over a river that flowed into the Isar where he stopped for a moment to take off his jacket and stuff it into his pannier bag along with his boots before rolling up his trouser legs up to mid-thigh level and walking barefoot through the shallow water below him until it reached his ankles. Venturing out onto dry land again, he put on his shoes once more before continuing on his way without stopping until he arrived at another bridge over another river just two hundred yards away. He repeated his earlier actions, removing some clothes as necessary and making his way through the river before putting everything back on once he reached the other side.

The next morning, Wilhelm woke up early enough not too long after sunrise when there was still plenty of time left before lunchtime. Most people would have already finished eating lunch having started their meal much earlier than usual due to various reasons such as work schedules and weekend activities.

Late afternoon, Wilhelm walked towards Bleistein Manor again, seeking an interview with someone who worked at the estate who might grant him access inside. Wilhelm knocked on one door after another, asking if anybody was willing to give him access to the interior of the manor in order for him to learn more about the mysterious murder that had recently taken place there.