Aunt Anka let out a sudden wail, and, clasping her feeble hands, made a move to throw herself on her knees in front of Frček’s desk. It was her daughter who prevented her, by seizing her arm and exclaiming:
“Mother! Be sensible! You heard what the Comrade Minister said. If you behave he will allow us to go home in a few days’ time; but if you make a scene he may send us all to one of those labour camps.”
Nicholas felt the blood hammering in his temples. He was horrified at the state to which his relatives had been reduced, and even more so at the implications of the sort of treatment to which respectable families of their kind were now subjected. He wanted desperately to intervene, but realised that it would be futile. Clenching his teeth and hands, he stood rigid with helpless indignation as the moronic-looking warder hustled his aunt, uncle and cousin from the room.
As the door closed behind them Frček said to him, “Well; you have proved your case. I little thought that my insistence on your meeting our scientists would produce such an unexpected result; but I see now that faced with it you had no alternative to throwing in your hand. I think you had better tell me about this imposture of yours from the beginning.”
“There is nothing to tell,” Nicholas shrugged. “I mean, nothing that I haven’t already told you. Bilto asked me to explain to Comrade Vaněk why he wanted another night in London; then on the way to him I thought it would be fun to see if I could get myself a free trip to Prague, and persuaded Comrade Hořovská to help me carry through my silly prank. That’s all there is to it.”
“You say this idea occurred to you only when you were on your way to see Comrade Vaněk.”
“Yes.”
“And that Professor Bilto Novák definitely intended to come to Prague the following night?”
“Yes.”
“Then how do you account for the fact that you travelled on his passport?”
When Nicholas had hastily made up his story, that was a point he had entirely overlooked. Instantly he saw that it blew the whole thing wide open. No possible explanation could reconcile those two parts of his statement that Frček had picked upon so swiftly. Seeing his sudden discomfiture, the bull-like police chief leaned forward across his desk, and thundered:
“I will tell you how your cousin’s passport came into your possession. You stole it.”
No shot in the dark could have been better aimed. In vain Nicholas stammered a denial. The fact that the accusation was true temporarily deprived him of the wit even to grope for an alternative to account for his having come by it. Pressing his advantage, Frček shot out a thick pointing finger and repeated:
“You stole it! Yes, and I will tell you why! It is not easy for people from the West to enter Czechoslovakia now. On learning of the arrangements for your cousin to come here you realised that it was a unique opportunity to get in unchallenged. You lied to him, had him arrested, killed him—for all I know—so that you could take his place. Once in, you hoped to disappear, ferret out our secrets, then slip back across the frontier and sell them to our enemies.”
Nicholas paled. For a second he was struck dumb by this sudden revelation that Fedora’s worst fears had been really justified. Then he cried, “You’re crazy. I’ve already told you that I am a life-long follower of Karl Marx. If you don’t believe me, ring up London. Get Comrade Vaněk to find out about me. There are a score of people prominent in the Peace Associations who will vouch for it that nothing would ever induce me to serve the British Government as a spy.”
“Peace Associations!” Frček’s voice rang with contempt. “Surely you do not think that we pay any serious regard to the sort of people who sit on the platforms of those puppet shows. They are valuable only as a means of sabotaging the rearmament drives of the pluto-democratic West. We pull the strings, but the people who sponsor them publicly are no more than a collection of cranks, visionaries and fools.”
As though struck in the face with a tumblerful of ice-cold water, Nicholas winced. He could hardly credit that he had really heard that cynical exposure of what lay behind the crusade that he had participated in so enthusiastically and for so long. Before he could recover sufficiently to speak again, Frček went on:
“Irresponsible idealists who have never submitted to the discipline of the Party often go through a period in which they regard themselves as radicals of the extreme Left; but such people are an easy prey to other political ideologies, and quite frequently they become converts to Fascist-imperialism overnight. That may be your case. But I neither know nor care. I am concerned only with the fact that you entered this country as a spy.”
“I deny it! You have not one atom of proof on which to base such an accusation. Even your theory about Bilto does not make sense. Is it likely that I would have betrayed my own cousin? Who would credit for one moment that, unless he had trusted me implicitly, he would ever have confided to me the deadly secret that he meant to come here and place his knowledge at the disposal of the Soviets?”
“I never said that he confided in you.”
“Then who else could have told me about his intended journey?”
Frček’s black eyes flashed. His arm shot out, and he pointed at Fedora.
“Her! This woman who is in love with you, of course! She was Professor Bilto’s contact. She knew all the arrangements. She disclosed them to you; then the two of you hatched this plot in which you were to impersonate him.”
“You’re wrong! Utterly wrong! I’d never even seen her until the car came to the Russell Hotel to pick Bilto up.”
“You lie! And do not dare to repeat to me that childish story about her pretending that you were Bilto as a joke entered into on the spur of the moment. Your having his passport in your possession disproves it. That is conclusive evidence that the whole business was arranged beforehand.”
Standing up, Frček walked round his desk and halted in front of Fedora. For a moment he stared at her in silence, then he said: “You were Professor Bilto’s contact. You must have known him intimately, yet you identified this other man as him to Comrade Vaněk. Why did you do that? Was it love for him, or was it for money; or is it that for a long time you have been in secret a traitor to the Party? Answer me?”
In a low, expressionless voice she replied, “I have nothing to say.”
Stretching out his left hand, he seized her beret and the coiled hair beneath it. Then, raising his open right hand, he slapped her with all his force across the side of the face.
The blow would have knocked her flat had he not been holding her up by the hair. Staggering sideways under it, she let out a choking gasp.
“You swine!” yelled Nicholas, and, reckless of the consequences, he sprang upon the Minister. Grabbing him by the shoulder, he swung him round, then aimed a blow with his clenched fist at the cruel, pasty, moon-like face.
Frček ducked the blow and took a quick step back. Nicholas got no chance to strike at him again. Kmoch had been standing at his side, and only a pace away from him. Whipping a small automatic from the pocket of his long overcoat, the fat little detective rushed in and jammed its barrel against Nicholas’ ribs.
“Move again and I fire,” he cried. “Put your hands on your head and keep them there.”
The two uniformed thugs had dashed forward at the first sign of trouble, but their assistance was not necessary. White with anger and still panting slightly, Nicholas did as he had been ordered.
For a moment no one moved or spoke. Slowly Frček’s black eyes travelled over Fedora, surveying her from head to foot, then he looked at Nicholas and said:
“Your childish attempt to play champion to Comrade Hořovská tells me one thing. Whether or not she is in love with you, it is obvious that you are in love with her; otherwise you would never have risked the sort of punishment to be expected for aiming a blow at me. I mean to get to the bottom of this business. I want to know all the things you were instructed to try to find out while acting as a spy here, and full details of your contacts with the British Se
cret Service. Men can be stubborn about such matters, but they usually soften up when obliged to witness certain things done to a woman that they love. I think I shall learn quite quickly all I wish to know about you through her,”
He raised his hand, beckoning the two thugs and the wardress. Then, pointing to Fedora, he said:
“Strip her.”
CHAPTER XII
A TASTE OF SOVIET JUSTICE
Kmoch still had the barrel of his pistol jammed hard against Nicholas’ ribs. In spite of that Nicholas lowered his arms and cried in ringing protest, “This is monstrous! Your order is a violation of all human decency.”
Frček’s underlings were just about to seize Fedora, but he waved them back, and said, “Whether my order is carried out or not lies with you. I am ready to cancel it if you are prepared to tell me what I wish to know.”
“How can I?” Nicholas’ voice was high-pitched with anger and exasperation. “There’s nothing to tell! No one gave me any instructions! I don’t know a thing about the British Secret Service!”
“Then we must see if Comrade Hořovská’s tears will refresh your memory.”
“Nothing could make me remember things I never knew. And you’re quite wrong in believing that I am in love with her.”
“Then why should you show such recklessness in her defence?”
“Good God, does that need an answer! Any man would do his utmost to prevent a woman being treated as you are treating her.”
“Prevent it, then, by a full confession.”
“I have nothing to confess.”
“Your stubbornness certainly suggests that you do not care for her very much; but we shall learn the truth about that after we have taken off her clothes.”
“Your attempt to extract information from me by threats of what you will do to her reduces you to the level of the Nazis.”
“If you intend that as an insult to my way of conducting this affair, it is without point,” Frček replied quietly. “The Nazis were self-seeking protectors of a bourgeois-industrialist society; and therefore of criminal mentality. But their methods of dealing with spies and saboteurs were most efficient, and therefore admirable.”
Nicholas glared at him. “To proclaim such a belief shows you to be utterly unprincipled.”
“My principles are the teachings of Marx-Lenin as interpreted by Comrade Stalin, and no one has ever accused me of deviation. But we waste time. Are you or are you not prepared to answer my questions?”
“How can I? You might just as well ask me if there are men on Mars!”
Frček signed to his underlings to go ahead. The police troopers each took Fedora by a wrist. The hefty wardress stooped down, grasped a handful of skirt on either side, and pulled it up to her waist.
“One moment!” Nicholas threw up a hand. “Please listen to me.”
Again Frček checked his underlings, then enquired, “Well?” “Am I right in believing you to be a Minister in the Czechoslovak People’s Government?”
“You are.”
“Then in the name of the People I appeal to you not to sully your honourable position by such unworthy conduct.”
“As Minister of Police it is my duty to protect the workers from traitors like her, and capitalist-spy-swine like you.”
Nicholas let the terms of opprobrium pass and said, “All right; but the essence of this affair is that you believe us to be guilty of having committed some crime against the State.”
“Your admission that you entered this country on another man’s passport, and that the woman abetted you, makes that obvious.”
“To you, perhaps. But it has not been properly proved. I insist that we should both be formally tried in one of the People’s Courts, and …”
“You will be in due course; but not until I have got the truth out of you.”
“To extract statements from the accused under threats is the negation of the basic principles of jurisprudence. Whatever you may think we have done, we have the right to demand that we should not be subjected to further examination before we have received legal aid, that specific charges against us should be formulated, and that our case should be heard before a court which is properly qualified to administer justice.”
Frček shrugged. “Within a few minutes of your first being brought before me I realised that you were one of those halfwitted socialists who believe that it is possible to run a country by State planning and at the same time preserve individual freedoms. In the Socialist Soviet States nobody has any personal ‘rights’. As for justice, that is my affair. If I conclude that anyone has been falsely accused I order their release; if not I inform the court of the sentence that I wish to be inflicted on them.”
Horrified beyond measure by these brutal revelations, Nicholas found himself temporarily bereft of words. Frček muttered disdainfully, “I have given time enough to answering your childish quibbles.” Then, turning to the group about Fedora, he called, “Get on with it, now!”
The two men thrust her wrists up as high as they would go while the woman peeled her frock upwards until it covered her face. They had got no further before Nicholas attempted to intervene again. Starting forward, he cried:
“I won’t stand by and see this!”
“Stay where you are!” snapped Kmoch. “Stay where you are, or I’ll put a bullet into you!”
Frček swung round on his subordinate. “No! Be careful with that gun! I don’t want him shot—yet.” Then he shouted at the nearest police thug. “Here, you! Take care of the man; two people are quite enough to get the clothes off a woman.”
The blue-jowled policeman threw himself in the advancing Nicholas’ path and hit him hard beneath the jaw. The impact sent him staggering back and left him momentarily dazed. Kmoch pocketed the pistol and seized one of his arms; the policeman grabbed the other. Before he had time to recover, they had put a double half-Nelson on him. Kmoch then left matters to the brawny uniformed man, who took a firm grip of both Nicholas’ arms and held them behind his back as tightly as if they had been pinioned.
Fedora offered no resistance. She had the sense and self-control to realise how futile it would be. Without any aid from the man the gorilla-like wardress could easily have over-powdered her. As it was she neither helped nor hindered, but the wardress was well experienced in such tasks and had her naked except for her shoes and stockings within two minutes.
When they had pulled her suspender belt off they let go of her and stepped aside. She stood there motionless looking down at the floor.
Frček walked over to her, took her chin in his hand, tilted up her face and looked down into it. One cheek was sadly disfigured, having turned a bright scarlet from the slap he had given her; but he now favoured her with a smile of approval, and said:
“You and I must have a little private session later on. If you behave yourself I might make things much easier for you. But we mustn’t let such ideas interfere with our present business, must we? Since your boy-friend doesn’t care enough about you to talk, perhaps you would like to start the ball rolling by telling me what you know about him? If you give me some good hard facts I may decide to go no further for the moment, and twist his tail instead of yours until he gives me the rest of the story.”
Again, in a low expressionless voice, she said, “I have nothing to say.”
He shrugged and said to the underlings who had stripped her, “Turn her round and put her up against the wall.”
Swinging her about, they gripped her wrists again, marched her over to the panelling and held her flat against it with her arms spread wide above her head, so that with her body they formed a ‘Y’.
She was tall and slender, with good shoulders and boyish hips. Nicholas gazed at the triangle of her back, thinking how beautifully proportioned it was. The muscles in it rippled slightly when the man and woman who held her jerked her arms slightly, and having been stretched taut they became still.
Frček had stooped down behind his desk and opened one of the bottom drawers i
n it. As he straightened up Nicholas saw that from it he had taken a whip. It had a thick handle ending in a round knob, so if reversed it could have been used as a formidable cosh; its lash was of thin plaited leather and about two feet along.
“You can’t do that,” Nicholas shouted. “You can’t do that.”
A sadistic smile spread slowly over Frček’s round pasty face. “I can, and I am going to,” he said softly. “Even if you decide to talk, as you have kept me waiting I mean to keep you waiting until I have made a pretty pattern on your mistress’s skin. To watch me will give you only a mild idea of the much more painful treatment that I may order her to be given later, should you not talk fast and to the point when I am ready to listen to you.”
Raising the whip, he gave it a preliminary crack. Fedora, her nerves strung to the highest pitch, jerked spasmodically as though she had already been struck. Nicholas swore.
Like most social revolutionaries he was an agnostic, so it did not occur to him to pray for divine intervention. Nevertheless he shut his eyes. By doing so he hoped to blot out the harrowing scene, but the attempt was futile. In his mind he could still see the big room, with its long stretch of window, through which the afternoon sunlight was coming at an angle. He knew the position of each person in it, and saw them as though they were wax-work dummies posed in a grim tableau. Above all, the central figure remained clear. Fedora’s body spread-eagled against the dark panel was vividly etched upon his closed eyelids.
Although he had not heard the whip come down he heard her give a sudden gasp. Automatically his eyes flickered open. Frček had not struck her. He was standing there grinning. All he had done was to administer an unexpected shock by using the end of the whip to tickle the base of her spine.
But next moment he stepped back, raised the whip and brought it down smartly just below the spot he had tickled. She gave a sharp cry and jerked herself erect. One of her stockings slithered down into a ruff round her ankle. Frček raised his whip again and gave her a quick cut on the calf of the exposed leg. She had set her teeth and did not cry out this time but automatically drew up the hurt leg. At her movement the stocking on the other floated down, and with a swift flick Frček gave its calf similar treatment. Then, crossing to her other side, he gave her another vicious cut. She twitched violently and let out a low moan.
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