Catherine was bright and clever and she was not satisfied to let the matter rest there, but laid the whole story before the tribunal of Landshut. She was then seventeen years old, but as the Bavarian law would not allow her to be sworn until she was eighteen, it was not until the following year, 1814, that her deposition was taken. She testified that several years before a woman had called at their house to see Riembauer, who was then absent. A few months later the woman returned, and at that time the priest took her up to his room. She had not been there long when the sound of crying reached the family below. They hastened up-stairs and heard Riembauer say, “My girl; repent your sins, for you must die.” And on looking through the keyhole, they were horrified to behold the man bending over the woman in the act of choking her. When Riembauer came out, he told them that this woman had borne him a child and had asked him for money, threatening to denounce him to his ecclesiastical superiors if he refused, and that he had killed her. Catherine’s mother and sister threatened to reveal his secret but were prevailed upon to keep silence out of respect for his office, and soon after both died very suddenly and under suspicious circumstances. Riembauer was arrested as a result of Catherine’s accusation, and gave his own version of the murder, acknowledging that he knew the woman whom he said he had promised a position as cook, but stating that Mrs. Frauenknecht and her daughter Magdalena had committed the crime. He knew nothing, of course, at that time of the deposition against him. During a period of three years, examination followed examination. He was confronted with the skull of his victim, and every possible method was tried to shake his testimony, but it was not until October, 1817, that Riembauer, broken physically and mentally, confessed to having murdered Anna Eichstaedter. His confession contained the statement of a remarkable “code of honour” which he professed to follow. “My honour, my position,” he said, “my powers of being useful, all that I valued in the world, was at stake. I often reflected on the principle laid down by my old tutor, Father Benedict Sattler, in his ‘Ethica Christiana’ ... ‘that it is lawful to deprive another of life, if that be the only means of preserving one’s own honour and reputation. For honour is more valuable than life; and if it is lawful to protect one’s life by destroying an assailant, it must obviously be lawful to use similar means to protect one’s honour.’”