by Alan Bardos
The Archduke stopped to allow the rest of his suite, and the gendarmes assigned to protect him, to catch up. He turned to General Potiorek. 'Truly exceptional, Governor - beyond all commendation.' The Governor looked relieved, as well he might. If he'd failed, he would have been lucky to get a command in the swamps of the Eastern frontier, Franz Ferdinand would have seen to that.
'Thank you, Your Highness,' Potiorek beamed, fighting to maintain his hard-bitten professional persona. He'd been under considerable pressure to perform and he'd clearly stood the strain.
'I'll make a full report to the Emperor of your excellent preparations,' Franz Ferdinand added. The manoeuvres had indeed been a great achievement; the soldiers were well drilled and the excessive heat that had so worried his Sopherl hadn't transpired. It had mainly rained and there had even been snow. 'In fact, this whole visit has been a success, Governor.'
'Thank you, Your Highness. I trust your accommodation is satisfactory?'
'Very pleasant.' His rooms at the Hotel Bosnia had been extensively decorated with rich carpets and oriental objets d'art. He'd been so impressed that he and Sophie had paid a trip to Sarajevo's bazaar to add to his collection at Konopiste. They'd had a wonderful afternoon exploring the maze of back alleys, full of artisans working at their various crafts, and all the way they'd been followed by an enthusiastic crowd of cheering, loyal subjects.
'I trust Her Highness was pleased with her itinerary, while you've been observing the war games?'
'Yes, very pleased.' Sophie had been engaged to make a number of humanitarian visits, mainly to orphanages - good work which would increase her profile within the Monarchy. 'I'm very pleased.'
'I'm gratified, Your Highness. I was afraid that the difficulties you experienced on your journey might have been a bad omen.'
'Yes, we didn't get off to a promising start,' Franz Ferdinand said. The Royal couple had been forced to abandon their private railway carriage because an axle had overheated, filling the carriage with steam. 'I thought, now the carriage has broken down, what next - a murder attempt in Sarajevo? And finally, if all of that doesn't get anywhere, an explosion on board my ship on the way home,' the Archduke joked. The Governor laughed politely. Sophie hadn't found the jest quite so amusing.
'As I boarded the new train the electricity cut out, plunging us into darkness. They had to light candles – I thought I was sitting in a tomb!' he continued.
The Archduke heard a sudden cry of alarm and saw a man in an ill-fitting black suit, jump out of a copse and hurry towards him. He stopped just short of Franz Ferdinand, the sun glinting on a black barrel. Franz Ferdinand sat up straight on his horse and faced the man, as a gendarme seized him. The Archduke laughed. 'What are you doing? That's the court photographer. Let him go.'
Franz Ferdinand caught the Governor openly sighing with relief. The Heir Apparent was safe.
Chapter 30
Johnny paced around his room, frustrated after the meeting with Gavrilo and the others. He'd spent the rest of Friday and now the best part of Saturday waiting for Ilic to summon him. He wasn't sure what else he could do. It was the eve of the Archduke's visit to Sarajevo and he'd been banished from any further discussions with the group. Gavrilo was still insisting that the two cells be kept separate. Johnny got the distinct impression they didn't trust him and he couldn't say he blamed them.
Ilic was certainly playing his cards close to his chest and Johnny had started to feel pretty edgy. He only had a few hours left before he was due to meet Breitner at the Governor's residence. A loud knock at the street door had raised Johnny's hopes for an instant; he’d thought that Breitner might have turned up with a posse of gendarmes to arrest the conspirators.
The sound of Mrs Ilic's voice calling for her son had soon dashed that idea. It was just a visitor for Danilo and whoever it was had made a heck of a noise banging around with great clod-hopping feet. Johnny watched from his window as the visitor left and then he glanced impatiently around the room for the thousandth time. He picked up the book of Serbian poetry that Breitner had given him and began to thumb through it.
'It's good to see you using your time wisely, Jovo.' Johnny looked up with a start - Ilic had come in unannounced.
'Do you need me for something, Danilo?' Johnny asked hopefully.
Ilic looked at the book of poetry and nodded. 'Yes, come with me.'
Johnny followed Ilic into his room. Ilic looked decidedly ashen as he pulled the Gladstone bag from under Gavrilo's bed. He took out two bombs and tied them around his waist with a piece of cord.
'What's going on?' Johnny asked.
'I've arranged to meet the second cell,' Ilic answered, putting two guns into the pockets of his jacket and padding them out with newspaper. Johnny assumed that he needed the paper to show the other cell the Archduke's route through Sarajevo.
They left the boarding house just after two and strolled through the busy streets of the old town. The rain had started to ease up and Johnny felt a tremendous sense of relief as he enjoyed the first sunshine he'd seen in days. Things were finally starting to happen.
They came out of the old town and passed City Hall. Ilic looked around wearily before steering them towards Bembasa, a quiet district on the edge of the city where the Miljacka river meandered into Sarajevo.
'Are you okay, Danilo?' Johnny asked.
'It is possible the police might have heard about our plans, Jovo.'
'How do you know that?' Johnny asked, trying to keep his voice steady. He was pretty sure that Ilic was just nervous and didn't suspect him of being an interloper who was counting down the minutes before he could betray him - not that Johnny felt much guilt about that. The simple fact was he had a job to do and that job was furthering his career. No matter what, he would not crawl back to Sir George empty-handed.
'Are you going to give me my weapons today?' Johnny asked, but Ilic ignored him. 'Am I to be finally told what the plan is? The tyrant is coming tomorrow, so it might be helpful if I knew what is expected of me.'
Ilic stopped and gave Johnny a stern look. 'We are about to meet the other cell, Jovo. They hold very strong views about the destruction of the Habsburgs and the political unity of the South Slav people and will not be so tolerant of your flippant manner.'
'I'm sorry, Danilo. I did not mean to sound flippant. I'm merely anxious to take action against our oppressors.' Ilic nodded acceptance of Johnny's apology and carried on in silence, brooding no doubt about the rightness of what they were doing.
Ilic led Johnny to a small cafe across the road from a large, tree-filled park, on the banks of the river. Two members of the other cell were waiting for them at a table. Johnny recognised them straight away by their black suits and trim moustaches.
Trifko had said that the other cell was made up of schoolboys, but they didn't look that much younger than the others. They were both about sixteen or seventeen and burnt with the passion that only an absolute faith in a cause can give.
'There are only two - where is the third, older one?' Johnny asked Ilic, looking round for a likely suspect.
'He is on his way. I'm meeting him later tonight,' Ilic replied and went to greet the two schoolboys. Johnny swore long and silently to himself; he was going to have to mess about to find out who the last member of the cell was.
'Jovo, this is Cvjetko Popovic and Vaso Cubrilovic. Jovo will be with us tomorrow,' Ilic said as he sat at their table. Johnny greeted them. Popovic seemed the friendlier, with sad, melancholy eyes that had trouble focusing on him. The other one, Cubrilovic, reminded Johnny of Gavrilo in both his physique and intensity of spirit, but he had a slightly more refined manner.
The formalities completed, Ilic turned to the youngest member of the group first. 'Popovic, are you ready to act for our people?’
Popovic didn't blink. 'Through Franz Ferdinand I will revenge myself on those who oppress the Slavs. Let our vengeance serve as a warning to the ruling circles.'
Cubrilovic took up the statement of belief,
speaking as earnestly and unflinchingly as Popovic had. 'I consider the Heir to be an enemy of the Slavs. He represents the regime which harasses and oppresses my home.'
'Very good.' Ilic couldn't fault their zeal. Unexpectedly Ilic turned to Johnny. 'And you, Jovo. Are you with us?'
Johnny shrugged. 'Yes, I'm as ready as I'll ever be.' That wasn't quite the commitment they were looking for, so he tried to put more guts into his declaration. 'The Heir must not be allowed to stand in the way of my dream of freedom.' Ilic couldn't question his depth of feeling - he just didn't know that Johnny had a slightly different dream to the rest of them.
Johnny smiled smugly as Ilic unfolded the newspaper he'd put into his pocket. He had passed all of the tests and the full plan was at last going to be revealed to him. Then, to his horror, Ilic started tearing the newspaper up into strips, and sitting there in the cafe, he poured out grains of what Johnny could only assume must be poison onto the table and wrapped portions of it up in the strips of newspaper.
'This is potassium cyanide. You know what to do with it when the time comes. Dead men tell no secrets.' Ilic passed a sachet to each of them. He was remarkably calm and matter of fact, considering the uncertainty he'd expressed about the assassination.
They left the cafe and headed for the park across the road. Ilic handed Cubrilovic a bomb and a pistol as they ambled through the trees. He produced another Browning automatic as they reached a tunnel.
'Have either of you fired a gun before?'
Cubrilovic and Popovic shook their heads, impressed by the sleek modern design of the weapon. Johnny also indicated that he hadn't fired a gun, so as not to raise any suspicion.
Ilic cocked the pistol. 'Where this hits, no medicine can help.' Ilic fired the gun and the shot echoed loudly down the tunnel. Johnny started to think that maybe he should have taken the bullets after all.
Ilic handed the pistol to Popovic who accepted it with due reverence. Ilic then untied a second bomb from around his waist, told them how to use it and passed it to Popovic.
'Don't I get a weapon?' Johnny asked, feeling slightly bereft. How could he be a conspirator in an assassination plot without either a bomb or a gun?
Ilic waved Johnny's concern aside. 'Do not worry. We all serve the cause in our own way.' Cubrilovic and Popovic grinned at him - they had guns.
*
Breitner decided to take a risk on the weather and left City Hall, walking slowly along Appel Quay, over the cobbles of The Emperor's Bridge, to the other side of the city. With a reluctant sigh he trudged past the mosque and started up the hill to the Konak, the traditional residence of Sarajevo's governors since Ottoman times.
Breitner wondered if any of the previous governors had been as obtuse as the present incumbent - he doubted it. He skirted the thick, brick wall that surrounded the Konak. It had proved to be an effective barrier in keeping the Governor cut off from what was going on around him, but as he went through the gate, Breitner hoped it wouldn't prove to be so today.
It began to rain again and Breitner swore and quickened his pace towards the residence. It looked like a great, big, baroque layer cake, decorated with orange-brown icing. For luck, he patted one of the stone lions that protected the front of the building, and then he leapt gracefully out of the rain into the pillared porte-cochère.
At least if the rain continued, the crowds for the Archduke's visit would be reduced, making it easier to spot any would be assassins, Breitner reflected. Then he braced himself and went inside. He wasn't anticipating an easy interview with Governor Potiorek.
An orderly showed Breitner into a waiting room and not surprisingly there was no sign of the shiftless Englishman. Breitner tried to control his anxiety. He'd called in every favour he could to get on the appointment list - he was going to look a total fool if Johnny didn't turn up.
Breitner opened his pocket watch; it was four o'clock. They had three hours before the Governor was due to attend an official dinner in honour of the Heir Apparent. Breitner had no doubt that the Governor would wish to be early, to ensure that all of his meticulous arrangements were precisely executed.
He'd have to stall Potiorek until Johnny arrived. Not a pleasant task, but one he'd rather have than face the full fury of Archduke Franz Ferdinand in person.
*
Preparations were in full swing for the Royal visit on the streets of Sarajevo. Roads were being repaired and in response to the Lord Mayor's proclamation to welcome the Royal couple, the citizens of Sarajevo had decorated their houses with the yellow and black of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy.
Ilic led his merry band through the commotion, back past City Hall and down Appel Quay towards the bridges, making the most of the cover the trees on the city side of the embankment gave from the rain. Ilic explained that the embankment had been selected as the place of ambush because the Heir had to drive along it twice: once from the station to City Hall, for the civic reception, and back again after his tour of the museum, on his way to have lunch at the Konak with Governor Potiorek. At least Johnny had managed to find that much out.
Cubrilovic and Popovic definitely had a certain swagger about them as they promenaded along Appel Quay. They'd passed the Emperor and Lateiner bridges, when a friend of Popovic called to him, from the river side of the quay. It took a couple of shouts and Cubrilovic pointing him out before Popovic recognised him. When he did, he very nearly showed his pistol off to his friend, but Ilic just managed to stop him.
Five minutes further up the quay they passed the charity where Johnny had worked. Ilic stopped on the corner of Cumurija Street, where Johnny had stood with Gavrilo, opposite the steel Cumurija Bridge. Johnny looked at the tobacconist's but he still couldn't afford to buy anything.
Ilic addressed them. 'You and the other cell will be placed along a three hundred yard killing ground from here to the Emperor's Bridge. Popovic, this is where I want you to stand. Jovo will be with you to act as your eyes, which is why he doesn't need a weapon. If the comrades before you fail, then you will attack. Throw your bomb and then in the confusion finish the tyrant off with your pistol. There will also be someone opposite you, on the river side of the embankment, who will attack at the same time. If you can't act when the Heir comes past the first time, change positions and try again when he comes back from the museum.'
Popovic was not happy with this arrangement, 'Can we not choose our own positions?'
'This is where I need you, for one concentrated effort. If there are too many policemen here on the day, then you can go to where you choose,' Ilic added conciliatorily.
'Can I not stand with Vaso? I do not know this person,' Popovic asked, eyeing Johnny guardedly.
'You could always wear glasses,' Johnny suggested.
'How could he afford glasses?' Cubrilovic asked.
'I have never worn glasses. If I started on Vidovdan, it would only raise suspicion,' Popovic said.
'Very well, but you need someone. You can't see fourteen yards across the street, Popovic,' Ilic said, then led them past the Austro-Hungarian Bank on the corner and across the narrow stretch of Cumurija Street, where it led onto the embankment. They stopped in front of the adjacent triangular baroque building at the end of Cumurija Street, which appeared to house a doctor's surgery. Johnny had never looked at the front of it before. The bottom half of the building was made up of striped stonework, with a plain brown facade above it, topped by an ornamental gable and an onion spire.
'Cubrilovic, this is where you will be, next to the first in line, who will be just over there.' Ilic indicated a cafe and the old Turkish houses at the end of Cumurija, in the gap between the triangular building and the other new Neo-Romantic Austrian buildings on the embankment.
'Where exactly?' Johnny asked. He needed to know the precise positions.
'In front of the Mostar.' Ilic pointed to a wooden picket fence around the cafe's garden. Johnny saw Ilic glance quickly into the garden before turning back to the group.
'Cubrilovic, you are t
o act as soon as you see the first in line throw his bomb.'
'Who is this first in line?' Cubrilovic asked.
'The most experienced man,' Ilic said. 'He will know when to act.'
Johnny wondered how they were going to coordinate their actions if they didn't know each other. He didn't like to ask, as he hadn't been on the friendliest terms with Ilic since he had accused him of being a traitor.
From what Ilic had said, Johnny supposed Gavrilo and his cell would be further up Appel Quay near the other bridges, but there was no way for him to know for sure. Breitner had said that the priority was to find out who all of the members of this cell were, so Johnny decided to put all his effort into finding this other man. If he was as experienced as Ilic said, he would likely be the most dangerous.
*
Breitner snapped open his pocket watch for the umpteenth time. It was nearly five and Johnny still hadn't arrived. He stood up and began to move impatiently about the waiting room, prompting the officer of the guard, who was busy writing lists of lists, to make a huffing noise. Breitner ignored him - it was because of bureaucratic fools like him that he was in this situation.
Breitner had expected the Archduke's visit to be cancelled. There had been numerous warnings about the threat posed by nationalist organisations to the Archduke, should he come to Bosnia, which had been issued to both Governor Potiorek and Vienna. Consequently, Breitner hadn't been overly concerned about Johnny's apparent lack of progress infiltrating the Young Bosnia cell over the past few weeks. It took time to establish oneself with people like that and he wasn't convinced that Johnny was up to the task. He'd been pleasantly surprised not to have read about the murder of some nameless youth in his morning reports. However, when it became blatantly clear that the visit wasn't going to be cancelled, what had started out as an experiment to try and flush out a group of possible assassins had become the last line of defence, and all that stood between his world and catastrophe.