by Graham Brack
‘Yes, sir.’
She smiled, which lit up Lukas’ rather forbidding office. It disconcerted him and he lost his thread.
‘Where was I?’
‘Lieutenant Slonský, sir.’
‘Ah, yes. Good man, Slonský, with a long record of distinguished service. You’ll find him honest, intelligent, observant, but also inclined to cut corners. Shocking approach to administrative tasks. Don’t be infected with his lax view of record-keeping. He has done wonders with young Navrátil, who has the makings of a first class detective.’
‘I’m sure I’ll learn a lot, sir.’
‘I’m sure you will,’ agreed Lukas, hoping fervently that the things she learned from Slonský would be of a kind that he would approve. ‘Unfortunately I can’t introduce you just at the moment, because they’re out following up a lead somewhere. That’s another of Slonský’s foibles. He keeps his cards close to his chest, especially when it comes to telling us where he is. But it seems to be somewhere with a poor telephone signal. Well, shall I take you to the canteen and we can have a coffee before I get Sergeant Mucha to find someone to take you over to the barracks?’
Lukas tried to sneak a peek at his watch surreptitiously. He could see it was quarter to something or other, but without pulling his sleeve back he could not quite see the hour. Where was Slonský?
Admittedly he had forgotten to remind Slonský that Officer Peiperová would be reporting for duty that day, but that was not the point. It was part of Slonský’s general sloppy approach that nobody knew where he was and his mobile phone was switched off.
The object of his wrath was sitting on a stool putting himself outside a large párek and wincing at the disgusting muck that passed for coffee there.
‘I almost wish we’d gone to the burger bar,’ he muttered.
‘They’re not as bad as you think. Have you ever been to one?’ asked Navrátil.
‘Yes. That’s why I only almost wish we’d gone there. I know what we’ve been spared.’
‘Your phone is ringing.’
‘No, lad, it isn’t ringing because I’ve turned the sound off. But I’ll grant that it is flashing and vibrating.’
Having spotted the name Mucha on the screen, he deigned to answer.
‘Discount Funeral Parlour.’
‘Slonský, Lukas is going ape here. Where are you?’
‘Investigating a murder in Ruzyně.’
‘Which murder in Ruzyně?’
‘The one in 1976.’
‘Have you just found the paperwork on your desk?’
‘I’ll treat that remark with the contempt it merits. I’d hang up on you if I didn’t want to hear more about Lukas throwing a wobbler.’
‘He’s got that young woman from Kladno here and nobody to take her off his hands. He thought you’d be here to show her the ropes.’
‘That arrangement might have worked better if he’d asked me about it.’
‘It must have slipped his mind. Anyway, that doesn’t mean you won’t cop it if you don’t get back here sharpish.’
‘Hang on — I’ll have to consult my social diary to see what I’m doing this afternoon.’
‘You’re free. Now get your backside over here, Batman — and best bring Robin with you. She’s asked for him and if you aren’t careful people will wonder how she knows him.’
‘We’re on our way,’ announced Slonský, fearful that his brilliant ruse was about to be rumbled.
He slurped the last of his coffee on the principle that he had paid for it, however vile it proved to be.
‘What did Mucha want?’ asked Navrátil.
‘There’s a beautiful princess back at the office looking for a frog to kiss,’ said Slonský. ‘You’ll do.’
Lukas had never been happier to see Slonský. If he had possessed a tail it would have wagged violently as the old detective eased through the doorway of Lukas’ office. Springing to his feet, Lukas introduced Peiperová, then recalled that Slonský had recommended her, so they must have met already. He asked Slonský to look after Officer Peiperová for a few days until proper arrangements could be made.
‘Of course, sir,’ said Slonský. ‘It will be my pleasure.’
This was untrue. Slonský did not want Peiperová around because she had such a profound effect on Navrátil, whose mouth dropped open when she passed by and who was prone to dribbling if she bent over to pick something off the floor. At that moment Navrátil was in the toilet examining his appearance in the mirror and wishing he had brought a spare shirt that did not look as if wrestlers had spent an hour rolling over it.
It occurred to Slonský that Lukas was so delighted to see him that there was mileage in asking for something he would not ordinarily get. The trouble was that there was nothing he particularly wanted. He hated taking holidays, his expenses were all up to date and he did not have space for a bigger desk. Nevertheless, there were expectations of a man in his position, and he would never forgive himself if he did not take advantage of the situation.
‘Will Officer Peiperová be sharing our small office, sir?’ he asked.
Lukas smiled fixedly, though plainly uncomfortable with this discussion.
‘That’s the plan. For now.’
‘Very good, sir. Then we’ll need an extra chair.’
Lukas breathed a deep sigh of relief. He had anticipated a request for at least one more office, or a conference table. A chair was easily arranged.
‘Of course, Lieutenant. I’ll get Mucha to find you one.’
‘Thank you, sir. This way, Peiperová.’
Slonský led the way to his office and held the door open, bowing his head slightly as she preceded him into the dark, utilitarian space. Navrátil performed his jack in the box impersonation, bounding out of his chair with such dispatch that his knee hit the edge of the desk and he had to bite his lip to conceal the pain.
‘You know Officer Peiperová, of course.’
‘Yes, sir. Good day, Officer Peiperová.’
‘Good day, Officer Navrátil,’ she replied.
Slonský took his seat with a broad grin.
‘Well, isn’t this nice?’ he said. ‘I love it when children play happily together. Of course, I’m aware that you two have each had one of Cupid’s little arrows in your backside and that despite the formal greetings you’re probably hoping I’ll leave the room so you can attack each other like limpets.’
He leaned forward and fixed each in turn with a hard gaze.
‘If you do anything like that on duty, I will send you, Peiperová, back to Kladno licketty-spit, and you, Navrátil, will find yourself on point duty in the busiest crossroads I can find. Is that clear?’
‘Yes, sir,’ they chorused.
‘Outside hours, I do not care if you fornicate yourselves into a stupor and wreck half the beds of Prague, so long as I do not hear about it. Is that also clear?’
‘Sir!’ Navrátil began, ‘Miss Peiperová and I have never…’
‘No doubt!’ said Slonský. ‘And it’s none of my business anyway. Just make sure that it stays none of my business. Whatever you do, don’t do it here. And whatever you don’t do, don’t do that here either.’
‘Yes, sir,’ Peiperová replied.
‘Do I have your agreement too, Officer Navrátil?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Then let’s not talk about that again. Peiperová, I recall that you make a good cup of coffee.’
‘I make coffee too, sir. It’s not just women’s work,’ protested Navrátil.
Slonský turned slowly towards his assistant. ‘Did I say it was?’ he asked quietly.
‘No, but…’
‘No, I didn’t. Perhaps Peiperová does it better. Perhaps I want to have a man to man chat to you behind her back. Perhaps as soon as she is gone I plan to leap over the desk and strangle you with my shoelace. But if she doesn’t go and make some damn coffee we’ll never know, will we?’ he roared.
Along the corridor Lukas looked up. It
was unlike Slonský to raise his voice like that. He hoped he had done the right thing, but then contented himself with the reflection that since he had no other options, it must have been the right thing.
Chapter 4
Holoubek patted each of his pockets in turn to ensure that the contents were in order. House keys in the left pocket, handkerchief and comb in the right, bus pass in the breast pocket, identification in the inside jacket pocket over his heart, wallet in the other inside pocket. There were a few coins in the right lower jacket pocket and a small packet of sugar cubes picked up in a café in the other lower jacket pocket in case he felt tired. At 14:27 he left the house, knowing that his normal stride would take him to the tram stop without having to rush but without a long wait either. He had something to tell Slonský. It could have been done over the telephone, but Holoubek’s hearing was not as sharp as it had been and he found the telephone difficult sometimes, to the point of having had it removed. Besides, if he still had the phone his son would call from time to time, but he would never see him. This way Ondřej had to show his face once in a while. He was a good boy, really. He just did not have a sense of family. That’s why his wife turfed him out. That, and the incident with the gym teacher. She was a bit of all right, though. Nothing between the ears but if you wanted someone who could do a handstand in the shower, she was your girl. Of course, once he was available she went off him. Forbidden fruit and all that, thought Holoubek.
The tram arrived, and Holoubek boarded, waving his pass at nobody in particular. Fortunately no-one tried to strike up a conversation with him, and after a change of tram he arrived at police headquarters and was pleased to see the same desk sergeant was on duty.
‘Holoubek, Edvard, to see Lieutenant Slonský.’
‘If you’ll take a seat, Mr Holoubek, I’ll check he’s in his office.’
Mucha rang Slonský’s extension.
‘Slonský.’
‘Good, that’s who I hoped you’d be. Mr Holoubek is back to see you.’
‘He can’t.’
‘Why not?’ hissed Mucha, who was dreading having to tell Holoubek that Slonský would not see him.
‘Because I’ve only got three chairs and we’re sitting on them. Unless, of course, he brings one up with him.’
Mucha counted to ten under his breath.
‘I’ll bring one with me, shall I?’
‘That would work,’ agreed Slonský.
A few minutes later Mucha and Holoubek arrived at Slonský’s office. Holoubek now understood why Mucha was carrying a chair, which he offered Slonský with a flourish.
‘Your chair, Lieutenant.’
‘Thank you,’ said Slonský politely. ‘Just a minute.’
He fished in his pocket and gave Mucha a five-crown coin.
‘God bless you, sir,’ said Mucha, tugging his forelock. ‘May you live for a thousand years.’
‘Thank you,’ said Slonský again.
‘And have piles for nine hundred and ninety-nine of them,’ continued Mucha.
Slonský kicked the door shut behind him.
‘Now, Mr Holoubek…’
‘Edvard.’
‘Edvard. What can I do for you today?’
‘Who is the young lady?’
‘That is Officer Peiperová. She has just joined us today.’
Holoubek stood and offered his hand, which Peiperová accepted and shook firmly.
‘We didn’t have women officers in my day,’ he said. ‘Except the ones we used to trap Western diplomats, of course.’
Slonský coughed long and loud, causing Navrátil to go for some water. By the time he returned, Holoubek had forgotten the subject and had passed serenely to the question of his recent discovery.
‘I went home after I saw you,’ he said, ‘and it occurred to me that I’d given you the copies of the official notes, but I hadn’t given you these.’ He pulled an old exercise book from the inside of his shirt. It was warm. ‘My notes. I’m afraid they’re not systematic — I just jotted things down as I discovered them. And there isn’t much there you don’t already know. But I tracked Válek down to his new flat in Karlín, so the address is in there. I was also suspicious about what happened to Vaněček.’
‘When he died?’
‘Well, that as well, though I couldn’t find anything about that. But the case that he was alleged to have fouled up.’
‘Why do you say “alleged”?’
‘Oh, someone messed up, there’s no doubt about that. Unlikely to be Vaněček, of course, because he never did anything, so how could he mess up?’
‘Surely the buck stops with the man in charge?’
‘Yes,’ Holoubek accepted, ‘but Vaněček had winkled his way out of that before. This time he couldn’t do it. I was in Prague at the time, so I heard the rumours. They said that he had crossed an StB operation and unwittingly exposed an agent. Well, if he did, he wasn’t the first. It was an occupational hazard, because StB didn’t tell us what they were up to, so how could we keep out of their way? Like we said the other day, Tripka was supposed to prevent it, but he was as much use as a glass hammer. Anyway, when the dust had settled I asked a few folks I thought might know, and they told me that Tripka had actually warned Vaněček off, but Vaněček pressed on because he wanted to nail an American diplomat for currency smuggling and, according to Vaněček, that was an ordinary crime such as his police should deal with.’
‘He had a point,’ remarked Slonský.
‘If he said it. But I knew Vaněček. He’d never said anything remotely like that before. As far as he was concerned, once StB moved in, he shipped out. He warned us many times not to interfere with their “work of the highest national importance”. So I found out where he was living and went to see him. He wouldn’t talk to me. At least, not about that. I think he was worried that his house was bugged, because as I left he walked me up the garden path to the gate and whispered that he couldn’t tell what he knew, because that was the deal he’d had to make with them. And a fortnight or so later he had his accident. I’ve often wondered if the two events were connected. Did he fall on the fence post because someone thought he’d spoken to me? If so, he was really shafted, because he didn’t speak to me and they bumped him off anyway.’
‘Did those things really happen then?’ asked Navrátil.
‘Oh, yes,’ said Slonský. ‘It didn’t do to cross the secret police, even if you were in the business. There was a fellow I worked with called Zeman. He arrested a French embassy junior of some kind for indecency in a public place, and since he was a bright lad, he rang the StB and told them he’d got a hold over a foreigner. That was what we were meant to do. They ambled over, took the Frenchman away, told Zeman what a good job he’d done and he could expect a bit of a bonus. The bonus didn’t arrive, so Zeman mentioned the incident to his boss one afternoon. Next evening, four heavies kicked the living daylights out of him in an alley not far from here. He lost the sight of an eye and was invalided out. And his boss was packed off to hold back any invading Hungarians at a customs post.’
Holoubek nodded. He knew some similar stories, but out of the corner of his eye he could see that his tram left in eight minutes.
‘Are you getting anywhere?’ he asked.
‘We’ve spoken to Kopecký, who —’
‘— found the body. I know who Kopecký was. He’s still alive then. Must be some age.’
‘Eight years younger than you, I think. But you’re wearing better. The old chap’s memory isn’t good. But he remembers 1976 like it was yesterday.’
‘Don’t we all?’ agreed Holoubek. ‘Will his testimony be any use in court?’
Slonský considered carefully.
‘I believe him. I wouldn’t trust him to tell me what he had for lunch today, but take him back thirty years and his memory is sound as a bell. But a good defence lawyer would just tie him in knots and invite the judge to chuck him out. It’s the perennial problem with cold cases. How much can you rely on elderly wit
nesses? That’s my problem with these Nazi hunters. Those Nazis deserve to be punished, but how can you get a safe conviction? Anyone who was old enough to understand what they were witnessing is going to be over seventy now.’
‘We’re not all gaga, you know,’ Holoubek bristled.
‘Not all. But some are. That’s why Navrátil and I have picked it up. If Jana Válková’s killers aren’t found now, they never will be. I don’t know if Captain Lukas is going to let us take it on, but we’re doing the spadework to build the best case we can to convince him.’
Holoubek pushed himself upwards with a great effort.
‘Well, I wish you luck. I asked you to try, and you’re trying. I can’t ask for more. I should have done more myself.’
He waved a hand at Navrátil and Peiperová and headed for the door, stopping as he reached the handle.
‘Keep me posted,’ he ordered.
‘I can’t promise there’ll be more to report, but if we’re allowed to carry on, I’ll let you know,’ Slonský replied.
Holoubek nodded his appreciation, and smiled gently as he left. Navrátil followed to see him safely down to the front door.
‘He seems like a nice old man,’ said Peiperová.
‘You think so? No better, no worse than the rest of us. You’ll have to learn that those of us who have been around for a while have skeletons in our closets. The state put them there. We had to do things that we ought not to have done. Suspects beaten up, witnesses intimidated, evidence concocted, we’ve all done it. The generation coming to the fore now is the first one with the possibility of having clean hands. Of course, some of them haven’t because they’re grasping, conniving, devious, unprincipled ordinary human beings. So the torch passes to your age group. I want to live to see a police force I can be proud of from top to bottom, and I’m relying on you to give me one.’
Peiperová smiled. ‘Me personally, sir?’
‘Why not? Just promise me one thing. If you make it to Director, make sure you give Navrátil a hard time.’
‘Why do I deserve a hard time?’ asked Navrátil as he re-entered the office.
‘Karma,’ answered Slonský. ‘And probably your Feng Shui.’