The Doctor Dines in Prague
Page 16
“We can go this afternoon.”
“You know”—he turned back to the room—“Redik was mad! Did he really believe he could conquer the Czech Republic—and specifically Prague—through subliminal propaganda via puppets?”
“Don’t forget the crown. He thought it had mystical powers.”
“In a psychology course I took at college, we watched a movie that glorified the German Youth Movement,” Fenimore said. “It had been made during the Hitler era. The teacher told us he had to break it up into four segments, with ten-minute intermissions, otherwise we might all be converted. We laughed, scornfully, of course. But, do you know—even with the intermissions—we all came out of that film marching and singing and wanting to join up?”
“You’re kidding.”
“I kid you not. Little Fritz was so cute, and the music was so strong … . Never underestimate the power of the media, whether film, radio, TV—or puppets. Goebbels knew this. He once said that Americans didn’t need a propaganda ministry, they had Hollywood.”
“Casablanca is a good example,” Jennifer agreed. “When they sing ‘La Marseillaise,’ I’d do anything for them.”
“The thing I don’t understand is why Ilsa bought into it. She seemed like an intelligent—”
“Love.”
He looked at her sharply.
“Why do you think I hang around with you?” she said.
“You think I’m crazy?”
“Well, every now and then …”
After a long silence, he said, “I wonder what Ilsa would have been like, if she had achieved her dream.”
Jennifer paused in her packing. “And what was that?”
“To be an actress,” he said.
“She was an actress,” Jennifer said tersely. “And a very good one.”
He couldn’t deny that.
“And her last act was worthy of a Verdi opera!”
After a while, Jennifer forced herself to ask, “Do you want to see her before we leave?”
“Hell, no.” He headed for the door. “Let’s go take that picture.”
As they made their way to Golden Lane, Jennifer asked, “Where is our lifeguard today?”
“On a bus tour of Prague. I thought she should see something of the city before she left. You know what she said? ‘I’ll go anywhere as long as it’s not on foot.’ Apparently cobblestones and Doyle’s feet are incompatible.”
“She does better on sea than land. Where did she learn those lifesaving techniques?”
“She was a Navy nurse … and keeps fit with karate.”
“There it is.” Jennifer stopped in front of a stucco cottage with a crooked chimney and reached into her purse. She handed Fenimore the cheap little camera she had picked up at the airport.
Fenimore took two pictures of Kafka’s house.
Jennifer scanned the guidebook. “Kafka lived in about a dozen places in Prague. Should we take them all?”
“One’s enough for Larry,” Fenimore said emphatically. He took a picture of Jennifer leaning over the wall, gazing at the city. Then she took one of Fenimore leaning over the wall, gazing at the city.
A woman was about to walk between them, but paused so she wouldn’t spoil their picture. Then she said, “Would you like me to take one of you together?”
They smiled self-consciously, and Fenimore handed her the camera.
Click.
“Thanks so much.”
“Yes, thanks.”
“No problem.” She walked on.
They took the steep, cobblestone path back to the city.
ALSO BY ROBIN HATHAWAY
DOCTOR FENIMORE BOOKS
The Doctor Digs a Grave
The Doctor Makes a Dollhouse Call
The Doctor and the Dead Man’s Chest
DOCTOR JO BANKS BOOKS
Scarecrow
The Feast
“ … he who does not mind his belly, will hardly mind anything else.”
Samuel Johnson in Boswell’s Life of Johnson
EPILOGUE
They were all gathered at Fenimore’s dining-room table. Vlasta was seated at one end, Anna at the other. Marie, Jiri, Horatio, Mrs. Doyle, Jennifer, Mr. Nicholson, and Detective Rafferty completed the party. The latter could hardly be left out when he had played such an important role in the zoo episode. Fenimore had been filled in on that when he returned and he was extremely grateful to Horatio and Rafferty for their rescue of Marie. (Horatio’s reward had come in the form of a state-of-the-art yo-yo.) And Fenimore had been properly chagrined when he realized that he had played a part in the attempted kidnapping. If he had been more astute and less taken with Ilsa, he might have noticed her reading Jennifer’s email address over his shoulder at the cyber café and prevented her from setting up the whole scheme.
Anna had prepared the dinner—a traditional Czech feast with all the trimmings. Fenimore had introduced her to the Reading Terminal Market, where she had spent a wonderful day roaming among the stalls, exchanging pleasantries in German with the Pennsylvania Dutch farmers and selecting all the ingredients. The celebration was for Vlasta. His “Welcome Home” party, or his coming-out party—from the hospital, where he had received his new stent—the clever device by which his artery would be kept open, allowing blood to flow freely to his heart.
How ironic, thought Fenimore, that I had to wait until I got back to Philadelphia to have a bona fide Czech dinner. He looked around the table at his friends and relatives. Everyone I care about is either at this table—or under it. (Sal was nibbling at his shoelaces.) He reached down and gave her a piece of schnitzel. “Did you know,” he interrupted the general conversation, “that President Masaryk came to Philadelphia in 1918 and read your Declaration of Independence at our Independence Hall?” They were all speaking English now.
“What did you say, Andrew?” Anna asked.
He repeated what he had said more slowly, then added, “And tomorrow I will take you all to see the Liberty Bell.”
“Jiri, too?” asked Marie.
“Jiri, too.”
“I’ve seen it,” Rafferty protested, “a million times.” His office was located in the Police Administration Building only a few blocks from Independence Hall.
“Well, you’re excused,” Fenimore said, “although I don’t think it would hurt you to see it again.”
Rafferty snorted.
“Lovely.” Anna nodded, agreeable to the idea. Then she pointed her camera at Fenimore and said, “Smile.”
Fenimore looked straight into the lens and smiled (forgetting, for the moment, about his ears).
Conversation dwindled as they concentrated on their palainky filled with prune butter, topped with melted butter, confectioner’s sugar, and sour cream. (Except for the guest of honor, of course. Poor Vlasta was on a low-cholesterol diet and had to make do with stewed apricots.)
Notes
1 Václav Havel was president of the Czech Republic when this book was written.
THE DOCTOR DINES IN PRAGUE. Copyright © 2003 by Robin Hathaway. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews. For information, address St. Martin’s Press, 175 Fifth Avenue, New York, N.Y. 10010.
THOMAS DUNNE BOOKS.
An imprint of St. Martin’s Press.
www.minotaurbooks.com
eISBN 9781466814356
First eBook Edition : February 2012
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Hathaway, Robin.
The doctor dines in Prague / Robin Hathaway.—1st ed.
p. cm.
ISBN 0-312-29036-5
1. Fenimore, Andrew (Fictitious character)—Fiction. 2. Americans—Czech Republic—Fiction. 3. Prague (Czech Republic)—Fiction. 4. Philadelphia (Pa.)—Fiction. 5. Kidnapping—Fiction. 6. Physicians—Fiction. I. Title.
PS3558.A7475D625 2003
813’
.54—dc21
2003046827
First Edition: November 2003