Academy of the Dead

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Academy of the Dead Page 15

by Christopher Wright


  The post office was in a wide street. Matt looked at a tram that was passing and realized the street led straight to where he was staying in Wenceslas Square. When Stanislav went inside, Matt leaned against the wall to wait, fascinated by the assortment of old and modern trams that passed regularly.

  After spending some time he switched his attention to the girls walking by. Then he glanced at his watch. Stanislav must be running into some sort of difficulty. Twenty minutes had gone and still no sign of the guide. Eventually Stanislav emerged with a broad grin on his face, the first time Matt had seen him so much as smile.

  "There is a Krkavčí farma in Ústí nad Orlici, and it is occupied by Tomas Dusek and his wife Lenka. Are they the names you were hoping for?"

  "Dusek?" Matt shook his head. "I was hoping it was Sykora. It doesn't matter. I still need to speak to them." He hoped his disappointment didn't show too much.

  Stanislav told Matt to be outside his hotel at nine-thirty tomorrow morning, and went off somewhere for another drink, leaving Matt to walk on to Wenceslas Square.

  Most of the shops he passed seemed to be selling Art Nouveau souvenirs. A jeweler had a display with a selection of painted eggs and small brooches. Since Zoé liked Hana's brooch he decided to go in and see if he could find a suitable present for her.

  There was nothing at all like Hana's brooch, but perhaps that was just as well. A replica might bring back unfortunate memories of the séance. He chose a medium-sized brooch of a fairy, made up from pink and red stones. It had wings, but there the resemblance to a butterfly ended. He just hoped Zoé would like it.

  It was much too early for an evening meal, but the journey and the tour of old Prague seemed to have made him hungry. He returned to the old part of the town, down the narrow cobbled streets. As he passed tall buildings with ornamental baroque facades, he was expecting to come across the Czech equivalent of a delicatessen.

  A small supermarket was the best he could find, and he had to make do with an over-ripe apple and a dry bread roll. Zoé would say it was healthy, but he'd not come to Prague for his health. The bottle of Czech lager was some compensation for his disappointment.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  MATT WOKE after a reasonable night's sleep, having only been disturbed once by noisy guests talking on the landing outside his door some time after midnight. It was just after seven a.m. Stanislav had told him to be ready at nine-twenty for the nine fifty-three train, which gave plenty of time to take a walk around the local area. He was now on Central European time which had meant putting his watch forward one hour at the airport yesterday. He yawned. Maybe his body clock still needed time to adjust. He wouldn't phone Zoé yet. It was only just after six a.m. in England.

  The small department stores would have suited Zoé if she'd come, but they were still closed and not really his scene. He was afraid of not getting back in time if he went sight-seeing in the old town, so he returned to his room to read. The railway station was only a ten minute walk from the hotel, and at nine he phoned Zoé from a roadside phone kiosk and checked that all was well. At nine-twenty he could see no sign of Stanislav outside the hotel. He hoped the man had stayed sober enough last night to remember the arrangements. It was nearly nine-thirty when the Czech guide called across from the other side of Wenceslas Square.

  They hurried to the station and as soon as they got there Stanislav disappeared. The television monitors in the entrance hall showed a bewildering number of destinations, but Matt could see no mention of Ústí nad Orlicí. He checked in his pocket for his money but kept it well out of sight. Was it worth making the journey alone if Stanislav was now under a bar table? Even if he did somehow manage to get to Ústí by himself, he might as well be landing on Mars for all the use his communication skills would be. And he wouldn't stand the slightest chance of speaking to the owner of any farm around Ústí, never mind the right one.

  He jumped as a large hand descended heavily on his shoulder from behind. Stanislav stood there grinning. "The toilet," he explained, burping. "Give me the money quickly, my friend, and I will buy the tickets. I will get the cheapest ones."

  The train was packed, and Matt wished he'd taken more of a part in the booking arrangements. It looked as though he and Stanislav would have to stand for the next two hours, while passengers in the first-class compartments were able to lounge in comfort for only fifty percent extra. And fifty percent extra of cheap was still a bargain.

  When the train approached the town of Kolín, Stanislav told him to be ready. Two passengers rose and Stanislav beat everyone in the rush for their seats, keeping one for Matt. Stanislav nodded gently to himself and closed his eyes. Two minutes later his head had fallen to one side and he seemed to be fast asleep. Last night must have been a heavy one.

  Matt started to follow their route on the map as he didn't intend to overshoot their destination. Stanislav slept soundly through the next two stops, but something seemed to wake him five minutes before they got to Ústí. Maybe he'd had one eye half open and was not as lost to the world as he'd seemed.

  "Good." Stanislav stretched and yawned, and got rather unsteadily to his feet. Matt hoped it was the effects of sleep rather than a delayed reaction to drinking. The station was a long walk from the town, but Stanislav seemed a capable walker in spite of his insides being weighed down with lager.

  Ústí seemed to be a smaller town than Matt was expecting, but it still had ornate buildings similar to Prague in the center. Surrounded by hills this seemed like a pleasant place to retire from the world. But the thought of finding the Dusek's farm in the area made him feel a little dispirited.

  "Show me your map," Stanislav demanded.

  Matt unfolded it on a low wall and sat down.

  Stanislav studied it and shook his head. "The local roads are not shown on here."

  "Let's see if we can buy a better one from the shop over there," Matt suggested.

  "That is a good idea, my friend. And we will have a drink and some lunch in the bar over there while we look at it."

  The small shop came up trumps, having a map of the whole area suitable for walkers and cyclists. Stanislav retired to a pavement restaurant to study it. He ordered something called Ústecký goulash for both of them. The beer came first, and while drinking it Stanislav found what he was looking for. "The farm is ... " He jabbed a stubby forefinger onto the paper. "There."

  "And how do we get ... there?"

  "By taxi."

  Matt looked around. In the square a driver stood talking to a woman by the side of his taxi. It was all very well for Stanislav to suggest exotic travel. He wasn't paying the bills. "Is there a bus?"

  Stanislav roared with laughter. Either the beer or Ústí nad Orlicí had brought on a sense of humor. Maybe he was relaxing. Maybe he needed to get out more. He tapped Matt on the arm. "It is not far. A taxi will not be expensive. Remember, I have to be back in Prague tonight. Ah, here comes our food."

  Matt was impatient to get started to the farm, but he also felt hungry. The goulash had what looked like large dumplings floating in it, consisting of various hard lumps -- strange to look at, but tasty enough. The rest of the goulash could have been beef or horse. Whatever it was, Stanislav seemed to be enjoying it almost as much as his beer.

  As the taxi started to leave the town Matt watched the dashboard meter ticking up like the price on a pump in a gas station. This part of the journey wasn't going to be inexpensive.

  They hit the open countryside surprisingly quickly, making their way up a steep hill on a narrow road. The driver slowed by a farm gate where a long straight drive made its way to a low house with terracotta tiles. The walls of the building had been painted white, but not very recently.

  "Krkavčí farma," the driver announced. Then he added something else in Czech.

  "He wants to know if he should drive all the way up to the farm," Stanislav translated.

  Matt looked up the driveway. It was only a couple of hundred yards and he didn't want to attra
ct attention. The numbers on the taxi meter didn't seem to make sense. "Ask the driver how much I owe him."

  Stanislav asked the question and Matt winced at the translation into English. He counted out the money in Czech krona, gave a bit extra for a tip, and asked Stanislav to tell the driver to go.

  "How will we get back to Ústí?" Stanislav asked in surprise.

  "Maybe the farmer will drive us back to the station." Not very likely. He still hadn't made up his mind whether to reveal the true purpose of this visit, but he didn't need a taxi clocking up a fortune in waiting time.

  As they driver reversed in the road, Matt looked up at the farmhouse, taking in as much detail as he could. To the left of the house he could see a large wooden barn and tried not to feel disappointed. The timber looked new and certainly didn't date back sixty or seventy years. Maybe it had been built to replace an earlier brick construction, the one that Hana had known. Maybe in the spirit world you couldn't see what was going on back here.

  "You look worried." Stanislav's voice disturbed his speculation.

  "Don't forget," Matt warned, "I don't want anyone here to know why I've come from England."

  Stanislav grinned. "Because they might claim the inheritance that is meant for someone else?"

  "Exactly."

  Matt led the way up what in effect was a mud and gravel track, with a small area of woodland beyond. A dog barked somewhere close, followed quickly by another. But the animals didn't come racing down the track so they were probably tethered. Perhaps in the wooden barn.

  "You want me to knock on the door?"

  Stanislav's question didn't need to be answered. A man appeared from round the back of the house and shouted something that didn't sound particularly friendly.

  Stanislav stopped. "He would like us to go away."

  Matt hadn't expected to find the place unoccupied on a Saturday morning, but he'd been hoping to nose around on his own while Stanislav kept the owners chatting. "Keep walking. He won't hurt us."

  The dogs sounded as though they were ready to do a fair bit of hurting, but there was still no sign of them.

  "He says his name is Tomas Dusek and he is asking why we are here."

  Matt nodded. He'd guessed that much for himself. But the man didn't have a gun and he'd stopped waving. He now stood with his hands on his hips defiantly.

  Stanislav said something and Tomas Dusek started forward. Stanislav continued talking while the man listened. The reply was brief.

  "What was all that about?" Matt asked.

  "I told him you are from England, but your grandparents were originally from Czechoslovakia."

  "They weren't."

  "Of course not. But I told them your grandparents lived in Ústí and knew the family who used to live here at this farm. I said your grandmother used to stay here in the holidays. He thinks you have come to see the place you heard so much about."

  Matt nodded in appreciation. Stanislav was actually quite a star when it came to it. "Ask if I can have a look round."

  Again the conversation in Czech. Stanislav began shaking his head and laughing. He pointed at Matt and said something, but the farmer didn't join in the laughter.

  "Now what?" Matt asked when they'd finished.

  "He wants to be sure that you have not come to buy the farm."

  "Buy it?"

  Stanislav nodded. "He thinks that word has got round that he wants to sell. Last month he found a man round the back of the farmhouse who said he had heard that the farm was for sale and he was interested in buying it."

  "But you didn't tell him about the inheritance?"

  "No, but I think you will find he is your friend because I have told him that your grandparents came from Ústí nad Orlicí. Tomas knows that you do not speak any Czech, but he would like to shake your hand."

  Thanks to Stanislav's fairy tales the farmer came forward and thrust out a large hand, then said something that sounded good-humored enough, and clapped Matt hard on the shoulder.

  Stanislav did the translation. "He wants you to come into the house and meet Lenka his wife. They would like to hear all about your Czech grandparents."

  Czech grandparents? He should have predicted this outcome from Stanislav's make-believe. "You got me into this, and I'm relying on you not to dig any more holes."

  Stanislav's response was a loud laugh.

  Tomas Dusek led the way round to the back of the farmhouse. From close up the white painted walls looked even more dismal than they had from the bottom of the track. The farmer and then Stanislav lowered their heads to enter the wide but low doorway from the yard.

  Matt stopped.

  At the end of the farmyard, hidden by the farmhouse until now, he could see a small brick barn with a galvanized tin roof. The roof was relatively new but the bricks that made up the structure of the barn were easily a hundred years old.

  This was where Hana had come in 1942 to escape the terrors of Nazi occupation. In that brick barn she had hidden the priceless manuscripts.

  "Hurry up," Stanislav called from the farmhouse doorway. "I need some details of your grandparents."

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  TOMAS DUSEK'S wife, Lenka, was by far the more talkative of the two and insisted on finding out as much as possible about Matt's imaginary grandparents. While they all had coffee, Stanislav was clearly enjoying himself. Maybe the opportunity to be the center of attention was what had made him become a tour guide in Prague. He told Matt not to worry about coming up with a good cover story. He'd do it, as long as Matt pretended to give him the details. Soon Stanislav sounded as though he was inventing a convincingly fictitious background to Matt's family. Whatever he was saying, it went unchallenged.

  Tomas and Lenka sat enraptured as Stanislav waffled on, making an occasional wise nod of their heads at something that seemed to make sense to them. Maybe Stanislav should be a private investigator rather than a tour guide. He obviously had the natural ability to build a cover story without having to think too hard about it. Matt just hoped that there wouldn't be too many inconsistencies, or he and Stanislav would find themselves on the road back to town -- with the two farm dogs after them.

  "Tell them I want to look round the farm," Matt told Stanislav when things had gone quiet.

  Stanislav passed on the request and Tomas stood up, saying something in Czech that sounded like permission. Stanislav told Matt that of course he could, and Tomas would be delighted to show him round.

  Matt shook his head. The last thing he needed was an eyewitness. "Explain to Tomas that this is a very emotional time for me. You can tell him that my grandmother often came here as a child and I want to relive that time quietly. Tell him I hope he understands." He felt pleased with his response. Stanislav wasn't the only one who could come up with a credible story.

  Lenka asked her husband to check that the two dogs were tied up safely in the wooden barn and, through Stanislav, told Matt to take his time looking round. Things were going really well -- assuming the spirit of Hana hadn't been malicious. The way things had fallen into place so far, even though it had taken a bit of smart detective work to get here, made him think the information was genuine. Another five minutes and he'd know for sure.

  Tomas returned to report that the dogs were indeed secure, and as Matt was leaving he turned to see Tomas fetching a bottle of what looked like some sort of home-made brew from a cupboard beside the large stone fireplace.

  "Slivovitz. Plum brandy." Stanislav grinned with embarrassment. "Tomas and Lenka suggest we have a little drink to occupy ourselves while you are looking round the farm."

  Matt suspected that not all the conversation that Stanislav had been translating had been about his mythical grandparents. Well, the slivovitz would keep the three of them out of his way while he recovered the booty.

  From the right-hand side of the farmyard he could hear snuffling noises. It sounded like pigs. The two dogs obviously recognized his hesitant footsteps as those of an intruder and set up a strident d
uet. He wasn't about to waste time going to see them, and made straight for the low brick barn with the tin roof. The double doors were secured with a heavy wooden beam resting in two massive U-shaped hooks. As he was struggling to lift this out he heard a voice behind. It was Tomas.

  Stanislav was with him. "Tomas says there is nothing in this barn for you to see."

  "Tell him my grandmother had her first kiss in here with the farmer's son."

  Stanislav translated, and Tomas laughed so loudly that Lenka came out to ask what was causing so much merriment. The home brew must be exceptionally strong.

  Tomas came forward and lifted the beam easily from its mountings and motioned with his large hand for Matt to enter.

  All Matt could do was stand and stare, while the farming couple looked over his shoulders and giggled. The invention of his grandmother's first kiss had seemed a good one at the time, but now he was having second thoughts. Maybe the inhabitants of Ústí didn't kiss.

  "It is my fault," Stanislav explained when the laughter died down. "I told them that your grandmother was often sent here as a punishment for breaking wind in the kitchen."

  Matt waved them all away. "Go back to the house and leave me here," he pleaded. Stanislav's fabrications were not to be relied on after all.

  Almost reluctantly the three Czechs returned to the farmhouse and presumably another round of drinks. At the far end of the barn, where the manuscripts were allegedly hidden, large bales of hay or straw -- being a townie he never could tell one from the other -- had been placed against the far wall, hiding it completely from sight.

  He used the vertical ventilation slits to judge the thickness of the side walls. The barn seemed to have been built with a double skin of bricks, so it should be possible to remove bricks from the inside and hide something behind them. But did Hana have the ability to take out enough bricks? As far as he could remember from the séance, Hana said that the bricks were already loose. There was nothing for it but to remove the bales. And for that he would need help.

  Returning to the kitchen he found Tomas, Lenka and Stanislav already well into their second bottle. Tomas lifted a spare glass and beckoned to Matt to come over.

  He shook his head and went close to Stanislav. "Can you come outside a moment, without attracting suspicion?"

 

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