by Graham Brack
‘Any others?’ Slonský asked.
‘Plenty, but this is a step up for any of them, and it’s concerning that they’ve had this weaponry for forty years without our knowing about it.’
‘A gun is a big thing to have up your sleeve, but you can’t stage a coup with one gun and a box of grenades. They must have more.’
‘Or they’re unrealistic fantasists. But maybe they don’t plan a coup as such.’
‘Meaning?’
‘This sounds like a starting gun,’ Poznar suggested. ‘In itself, it has largely symbolic significance, but they can use it to send a message to sympathisers to rise up and join them.’
‘Is that likely?’
‘I don’t think so, but these types are very good at deluding themselves that it only needs a spark to set the country ablaze. It’s the philosophy of Our Home, for example.’
‘Our Home?’
‘They take their name from the national anthem “Where is my home?”. I think of them because their newsletter is called The Spark.’
‘Are they a significant threat?’
‘I’d have said not. But that was before I knew they might have a gun. Where is it now, by the way?’
‘I don’t know,’ Slonský replied. ‘We tracked it leaving the village and heading for the highway, but where it went after that is anyone’s guess.’
‘It would attract some attention on the road, surely?’
‘Not necessarily. Think how often we see military vehicles moving around the country. A squadron of tanks would be noticed, but I’m not sure one vehicle on its own would. And they may have moved it when the road was quiet. Against that, if the explosion was at six it would have been daylight. I’m reluctant to put out a public message in case it alerts them to the fact that we know about the gun and they decide to get on and use it. I’ve got the traffic police looking out for it from a helicopter, but it’s a camouflaged vehicle. Its makers designed it not to be seen.’
‘I’ll see what’s come in recently about Our Home or other subversive activity in the Pardubice region,’ Poznar suggested.
‘That would be helpful. Now, to the important stuff. Are your beloved Sparta going to win the football league again this year?’
The traffic police had not seen the gun, but a sharp-eyed pilot had spotted some damage to a verge that he thought night have been done by a large vehicle, so Slonský rang Peiperova and told her to take a look on her way back to Prague. She rang him back within the hour.
‘It’s just the other side of the highway to Holice, sir.’
‘I know where it is, Peiperová. I sent you there, remember?’
‘Yes, sir. Sorry, sir. There are tracks on the verge like we saw before, and a substantial tree on the bend has been taken out by whatever passed.’
‘Okay. Let’s assume it went that way. Are you in a marked car?’
‘No, sir, plain blue.’
‘Not in uniform?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Good. It’s safer that way. Take a look around and see if you can pin down where it went. But be careful. Don’t get out of the car and don’t go unusually slowly. Wherever they’ve put it, let’s assume that someone is watching in case outsiders take an interest. And remember that if they’ve killed four people including the local police lieutenant, they’re not going to lose sleep over anything that happens to you.’
‘No, sir.’
‘I’m not talking anything exhaustive, Peiperová. No more than a couple of hours on it.’
‘Understood, sir.’
Slonský rang off and sat for a few moments staring at his phone, then decided to ring Navrátil.
‘I just wanted you to know what Peiperová is doing, lad. She’s following a sighting of the damage done by the gun moving after the explosion. I’ve told her to stay in the car but have a drive around for a couple of hours looking for any more damage, then come back. If she doesn’t appear by, say, seven o’clock I want to know. If I don’t hear I’ll assume everything is okay.’
‘I’ll call her in a while to check everything is in order, sir.’
‘You do that, Navrátil. I don’t have any reason to think she’s in special danger but we just don’t know what we’re up against.’
When Slonský filled Captain Lukas in he was extremely concerned.
‘I’m extremely concerned,’ Lukas said. ‘Extremely concerned indeed.’
‘So am I, sir. Most of these groups seem to be pretty inept but this one seems to be more ruthless than most. My security contact pointed the finger at an outfit called Our Home, but he said there could be plenty of others.’
Lukas tutted. He was an international class tutter, but then he had plenty of practice, especially when talking to Slonský. ‘I’ve never heard of them. Have you?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Josef, you’re an Acting Captain now. You don’t have to call me “sir” any more.’
‘I haven’t got the official bit of paper in my hand yet, sir. I’ll believe it when that happens.’
‘I’ve been thinking. Perhaps it’s worth having a little word with Sergeant Fulnek.’
‘Fulnek? But he’s in organised crime.’
‘Yes, but I’m sure you’ve heard him holding forth with some unsavoury views from time to time. He may have an opinion about these Our Home fellows.’
‘He may, but it could be an admiring one.’
In fact, Fulnek was quite balanced in his opinion. On the one hand, he thought that Our Home was a romantic association of intellectuals with no practical aptitude whatsoever who talked a good game but had done nothing concrete to reassert Czech nationhood. On the other hand, he thought that they would never spot someone trying to infiltrate them so it was possible that things might be done in their name without their active participation.
Slonský found it difficult to conceal his distaste for Fulnek’s brand of nationalism, so he did not bother to try.
‘There’s nothing wrong with being patriotic, sir,’ the young sergeant maintained. ‘But I wouldn’t countenance anything illegal.’
‘I believe you,’ said Slonský, ‘because you’re not stupid and you’ll know how hard a court would come down on you if you did.’
‘Never mind a court,’ Fulnek answered wistfully. ‘You haven’t met my mother.’
Peiperová returned around half past six and presented herself in the shared office where Navrátil and Slonský were waiting for her.
‘What did you find, Peiperová?’
‘No sign of the gun, sir, as such. The tree on the bend had been hit pretty hard though. I think the driver couldn’t get round in one and hit it as he reversed back to get a better angle on the turn.’
‘Don’t be sexist, young lady. The driver could be a woman for all we know. In fact, since they hit a tree … well, never mind. Let’s leave that one open.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Peiperová responded through gritted teeth. By common consent she was the best driver of the three people in the room, which was unsurprising given that she had much more practice than the others. Whichever combination of officers went out, she was more likely than not to be handed the keys.
‘There’s something else, isn’t there? Out with it.’
Peiperová appeared hesitant as if unconvinced by her own intuition, but she walked over to the large map of the Czech Republic on the wall. ‘It’s just this, sir. This is the road the gun passed along. The tree is just here, as the road turns slightly north-east. But about three kilometres further on the road turns sharp left to resume its northward course and there’s a small hump-backed bridge over the river here. It’s very narrow but there’s no sign that anything scraped the side.’
‘So you think it turned off before that?’
‘I can’t see any alternative, sir. But there are no roads. There is a track and a farm entrance to the right and a large yard to the left.’
‘Meaning that you think the gun may be in one of those places?’
‘We’d ha
ve to look for tracks, sir, but it seems so.’
‘Good work, Peiperová. We’ll get a party together and give it a look over tomorrow.’
‘Sir, won’t it be dangerous?’ asked Navrátil.
‘It certainly will,’ agreed Slonský. ‘That’s why we’ll take an armed assault team. And if you happen to be passing a church tonight, lad, you might say an extra prayer for us.’
‘You could do it yourself, sir,’ Navrátil responded.
‘I could, but you’re the one who has kept his membership up. Go and enjoy some sort of movie, young people. I’ll get everything set up for tomorrow. Peiperová, I don’t think tomorrow will be a day for wearing a skirt.’
‘No, sir.’
‘You either, Navrátil,’ Slonský added, having remembered what he was told in the gender neutrality training classes.
Chapter 6
When Slonský made his arrangements with the tactical weapons unit he was a little surprised at the meeting place that they nominated, and even more taken aback when he arrived to find two helicopters waiting.
‘Much quicker than cars,’ explained the unit’s commander, who wore a waistcoat filled with so many gadgets and attachments that it was doubtful whether he could right himself if he fell over. To Slonský’s delight he noted that the commander’s flak jacket and helmet were clearly marked with his rank, meaning that he would be the first one targeted by the villains and there was every chance that other key officers present, namely himself, would be able to get themselves flat on the ground or into a ditch and keep safe.
‘If you’d just put these on,’ the commander ordered, handing each of them a flak jacket and helmet, ‘we’ll take off. Strictly I should split you between the helicopters. Who’s second in command?’
Slonský hated those questions. Navrátil had been in the post longer, but Peiperová had joined the police earlier, having signed up straight from school whereas Navrátil had taken a law degree before joining the police academy as an officer cadet.
‘I’ll go in one and these two can go in the other,’ he announced. ‘It’ll give them something to talk about on the way there.’
Peiperová took everything in her stride. Navrátil, though admirable in many ways, was not a great aficionado of air travel. A plane was one thing, but a helicopter was something else. For a start, Navrátil understood the physics of winged flight. He had never quite worked out how a helicopter stayed in the air, and the fact that the side door was open caused him a great deal of worry and led to his checking the shackle that kept him secured in his seat roughly every thirty seconds.
The deputy commander winked at him from the other side of the helicopter. ‘Your first time?’ he asked.
‘First time in a police helicopter,’ Navrátil agreed, leaving open the matter of any civilian flight (of which there had been none, but he preferred to maintain some mystery around that).
If two police helicopters were an unusual sight in the countryside around Prague the locals on the ground seemed to be doing a very good job of minding their own business, thought Slonský, who was watching for any sign of untoward energy down below as they flew over. The helicopters swooped down late to conceal their landing site as long as possible and made contact in a riverside meadow a little under a kilometre from the farm that Peiperová had identified.
With all the occupants decanted the pilots switched off their engines and alighted to stand guard in case anyone felt like adding a couple of choppers to their target. Meanwhile the police trotted through the fields in single file, a dozen sleek figures in black, two fit officers in mufti with black flak jackets and one well-built specimen who was wishing that he had brought a bicycle. However, a little reflection brought Slonský to realise that the weight he had lost had made quite a difference to his ability to run, and he had no doubt that if shooting started it would inspire him to even greater efforts. It always had in the past.
The commander held up his hand to order them to stop, then produced a baffling series of hand signals which clearly conveyed plenty to his team but left Slonský desperately trying to recall what he had been taught years before. He was fairly sure that one of the signals meant “I am about to slow down and turn right” and he was inclined to think another showed that someone had hit a puck the length of the ice rink, but in the end he decided to follow Navrátil who seemed to be confident that he knew what was being indicated and had peeled off to the left with half a dozen of the armed team. Slonský checked that his own weapon was in his hand, loaded, but with the safety catch engaged. He noted with satisfaction that Peiperová had attached herself to the other half of the party, though he dimly recalled that her scores on the range were consistently better than Navrátil’s. Navrátil attributed this to her longer arms which meant that she was ten centimetres nearer the target when she fired.
On a signal from the commander the men hurdled the low wooden fence and fanned out around the farmyard, checking all the outbuildings in turn. They met no resistance and might have left as quietly as they came had they not encountered a farmhand who emerged from the outside privy still adjusting his clothing and jerked his hands high as he saw the guns levelled at him. This was wise given the firepower on display, but less satisfactory when his trousers slowly descended to his knees and his panicky face pleaded for permission to pull them up since he could see a lady present. Peiperová turned her face away.
‘Slowly pull them up,’ ordered the commander, ‘but keep your hands where we can see them.’
‘I will, I will!’ came the response.
Having restored his trousers to a decent height, the man pointed his hands to the sky once more.
‘Police!’ snapped the commander, which seemed unnecessary to Slonský given that it was written on all their chests and backs. ‘Name?’
‘Smec, Marek.’
‘Who else is here?’
‘Just me and the old couple who own the farm.’
‘Are they in the house?’
‘Yes. The old man can’t get out now. Bad chest.’
Slonský decided it was time to ease the tension a little. ‘If your men can search the farm, we’ll question the three people. Peiperová, you take the woman. Navrátil, Mr Smec is yours. I’ll speak to the old man.’
‘Do you want us to check out the house?’ asked the commander.
‘I’m armed,’ said Slonský. ‘We’ll be fine. If you hear shooting it’ll probably mean I’ve dropped my gun.’
He strode into the house followed by Peiperová. They found the old woman in the kitchen making soup. Although alarmed at their appearance, she agreed to sit and be questioned, provided Peiperová stirred the soup at intervals.
Slonský mounted the stairs and found the farmer sitting in an old armchair by the window, which was slightly open. He wore his pyjamas with a pullover on top.
‘I heard what you said down there. Why do you need all those guns? Are there bandits about?’ he asked.
‘I hope not. We’re on the lookout for an old army vehicle,’ Slonský told him.
‘Thought you might be,’ came the reply. ‘I saw it come up the road on Liberation Day. I thought there must have been a parade somewhere.’
Slonský could have slapped himself. That was why nobody had noticed it. They expected military vehicles to be moving around on Liberation Day.
‘Just one vehicle though?’
‘Yes, just the one. Some sort of artillery thing, self-propelled gun if I’m any judge, though my military service was a long time ago.’
‘Excellent. That’s what we’re looking for. Did you see where it went?’
‘Not really. I can only see part of the road from here. Mind, whoever was driving it was useless. He got stuck on the corner and reversed over a tree trying to get round. And he would never have got it over the stone bridge up the road.’ The old man swallowed some air and had a cough before continuing. ‘I didn’t see it again, but I think I heard it.’
‘What time did it go past?’
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br /> ‘Going up the road, probably between six and seven. But it was nearly dark by the time it came back down.’
‘It turned around?’
‘Must have done. As I say, he’d have demolished that old bridge if he’d tried to get something that size across it. I reckon he must have reversed back to the old coal yard and turned round in there so he could go forward down the hill again. But I was having my supper then. My wife could tell you the time.’
Slonský thanked him and returned to the kitchen.
‘Then you add a sprig of rosemary just for the scent,’ the old lady was explaining.
Peiperová lifted the spoon from the pot and dipped her little finger in the soup. ‘Very nice,’ she said.
‘Forgive my intrusion,’ Slonský interrupted, ‘but I wondered if any crime was being solved today?’
‘Sorry, sir. We’d finished the questioning. Mrs Hejdová didn’t see the gun but she says her husband saw it and they both heard it while they were having supper just after eight o’clock.’
‘I know the time because I listened to the news headlines on the wireless before I took it up on the tray,’ the woman added. ‘We eat together at supper, you see.’
‘Very nice, I’m sure. It’ll be a bit of company. And does Marek eat with you?’
‘No, he finishes about six and goes home. He has a wife and a lovely little girl in the village. But it was Liberation Day so he’d only have come up for the milking.’
‘Do many people walk up and down that road?’
‘Not these days. Since they built the highway there’s no need.’
Smec told Navrátil that he came up at five to do the afternoon milking and was gone by about half-past six. He did not see the gun but he heard a loud rumbling noise while he was in the milking shed.
‘That makes sense,’ Slonský said as the three detectives compared notes. ‘If you’re going to kill all the witnesses you’d get the gun on its way before you throw the grenade, otherwise you’re attracting curious locals to run towards the very thing you’re trying to hide.’