by Graham Brack
‘Jesus Maria! Is that the girl found in the warehouse?’
‘Yes. Her name is Daniela,’ Peiperová added, having remembered the lecture that told her that people empathise more with others when they know their names. ‘I knew her. I’d like to catch the people who did this, and I need your help.’
Slonský was going home. It was nearly midnight and Navrátil was just typing up a report.
‘Come in an hour or two late in the morning, lad.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘Just leave that on my desk when you’re done. Goodnight.’
Slonský clapped his hat on his head and strode downstairs.
The office door creaked open, and Peiperová reversed in with a mug in each hand.
‘Are you still here?’ said Navratil.
‘Obviously. Unless you’re dreaming, of course. I’ve been writing up Nejedlý’s secretary’s statement.’
‘Did you get anywhere?’
‘She’s got a good memory for dates. She also has an office diary she’ll bring in, along with Nejedlý’s address book.’
‘Good. I’m almost finished here. I thought you’d have gone home by now,’ Navrátil added, accepting the proffered mug of coffee.
‘I’m waiting for a strong man to walk me through the streets. If I go on my own I might get molested.’
‘You won’t get molested if I’m with you.’
‘No,’ she said. Shame, she thought.
Chapter 13
Nejedlý’s statement was a curious mixture, thought Slonský as he read it through for the third time. He had been prepared to give full details of many things, but there were a couple where he claimed to know nothing, or, more accurately, nothing useful in one case and nothing at all in the other.
When Navrátil and Peiperová arrived Slonský recounted these as he paraphrased the statement.
‘According to his account — and bear in mind he’s a criminal and therefore probably a liar too — Nejedlý’s business was entirely legitimate and very prosperous through the nineties. His downfall began with women — there’s a lesson there, lad — and in particular the staff of a couple of clubs where he was wont to go to unwind after a busy day humping his plums onto lorries. He became a bit too friendly with one of them, and his wife caught him in flagrante delicto in his office. I think that’s Latin for squeezing the fruit.’
‘I know what it means, sir.’
‘Jolly good. So his wife walked out and divorced him, and collared a good chunk of his net worth plus a monthly payment. This coincided with a downturn in the import-export trade and soon he was having trouble keeping going, to the point where he tried to get out of a contract to import tinned fruit from Serbia. His contacts there put an alternative proposition to him. Now, he claims that they threatened him, but if they did that why would they pay him handsomely too?’
‘They wanted him to smuggle girls into the country.’
‘Not necessarily to the Czech Republic, but here if possible because they could earn more here. And as a customer of the clubs in Prague he knew a few people who might take them. Before long the Bosnians bought some of the clubs — Klinger tells me this is called downstream vertical integration — and the profits became quite healthy. Nejedlý sent his lorries to Serbia, Brukić brought the girls from Bosnia, and then Nejedlý brought them home.’
‘Why didn’t Brukić just drive them all the way, sir?’ Peiperová wanted to know.
‘He had a very close shave with the Hungarians and he was convinced they were on his trail. Plus he could only bring six or eight in a minibus, what with the guards and luggage space he needed. This way he kept his hands cleaner — if the girls told their story, he could claim he only took them to Serbia and had no idea what happened to them after that.’
‘Would anyone be taken in, though?’
‘The likes of Brukić don’t care what people think. They’re only interested in what can be proved, and you couldn’t possibly have proved that he was lying. Nejedlý claims that when Daniela was snatched he was just told they needed a safe building for a few days, so he handed over the keys to a warehouse he no longer uses. He knew nothing about her abduction or anything that happened to her.’
‘Do you believe him, sir?’ asked Navrátil.
Slonský sighed. ‘I think I do, because I think he was keen not to know, so even if he didn’t know particulars, he knew something criminal was going on. Anyway, what I find interesting are the things he says he doesn’t know. He doesn’t know who killed Hrdlička and says he has an alibi, though we know that’s a lie because his hot kettle gave him away. But he says he hadn’t heard any mention of the knight before the day of the killing, and then he only heard about it immediately after.’
‘So why did he leave before the questioning?’ Peiperová enquired.
‘He says he had incriminating documents in his office and decided he had better hide them when he saw us heading for the building, so he took off down the fire escape.’
‘But we weren’t in uniform,’ Navrátil objected.
‘Maybe not, but we were talking to uniformed police and waving our badges around, and it seems he overheard one of your rat-catching visits. Then the other thing he claims not to know about is Opava. According to him he hasn’t been in or through Opava and he has no idea why Hrdlička was so interested in it. Anyway, let’s get down to business. We’ve got enough here to bring in Brukić and Savović but I doubt they’ll come quietly, so we need to plan our campaign carefully.’
There was a prolonged silence as they waited to hear what the plan was.
‘But before we do that,’ said Slonský, ‘let’s get some coffee and pastries.’
The summons from the Director of Criminal Police came halfway through Slonský’s second pastry, so he was obliged to put half the tartlet in his mouth in one go as he departed. The Director did not rise to greet Slonský or offer him his hand as he entered, which Slonský interpreted as bad signs.
‘Good morning, Slonský.’
‘Good morning, sir.’
‘I thought I asked you to keep me informed of the progress of your enquiries?’
‘I think that too, sir.’
‘But you haven’t.’
‘Not entirely, sir.’
‘Not at all, Slonský.’
‘No, sir. I’ve been too busy detecting crime, sir.’
‘Then there’s no time like the present, seeing as you were detecting crime in the canteen.’
Slonský looked nonplussed.
‘You’ve got a smear of blueberry juice on your chin, man.’
‘Ah. Well, where to start, sir?’
‘How about explaining why there’s an army camp full of impressionable young cadets and a busload of prostitutes?’
‘Place of safety, sir. I had to improvise somewhere to keep the girls out of the reach of intimidators.’
‘That’s worked, then, though whether the cadets will ever be the same again is a moot point. Then there’s the girl who went missing?’
‘Found in a warehouse in a bad way, sir. The owner of the warehouse is in custody and denies involvement in that. He’s one of the people in the building Hrdlička was watching.’
‘And what progress on trapping the killer of Hrdlička?’
‘There’s some oddities there, sir. Hrdlička was using a non-authorised radio microphone and earpiece obtained from an ex-policeman.’
‘Don’t tell me — Gazdík.’
‘Yes, sir. Gazdík seems to have been asked to provide this because Hrdlička didn’t want to go through normal channels. That implies that he didn’t trust someone in his department.’
‘Go on.’
‘Peiperová visited his wife and found a map of Opava among his effects. He doesn’t mention this in any of his reports, but his enquiries seem to centre on a derelict manor house. This is where we come to a delicate bit, sir.’
‘You think you know who the officer is that Hrdlička was keeping it from.’
<
br /> ‘Yes, sir. Captain Grigar asked Mrs Hrdličková what her husband had been doing at the time of his death and wanted any papers he had, but she says Hrdlička had already sent them all in. So presumably he was sending them to someone other than Grigar. Then there’s the curious incident on the night Navrátil got arrested.’
‘Yes, I heard about that. I trust there was some mistake?’
‘I can’t think of anyone less likely to expose himself than Navrátil, sir. It was a cover story I improvised on the spur of the moment to explain why he was on the roof of a villa looking into a woman’s bedroom.’
‘In the course of duty, I hope?’
‘Yes, sir. Technically he was working overtime. Anyway, a source was listening to the police frequencies that afternoon when Navrátil and Peiperová went to meet the girl who was found in the warehouse, and the source says he heard Captain Grigar order that Navrátil should be followed.’
The Director put his pen down and stood up. Slonský tried to do the same but a gesture from the Director told him to resume his seat.
‘I think better when I walk,’ the Director explained. ‘This is serious. Grigar is a senior officer with an excellent record. It’s hard to imagine any kind of bad practice where he is concerned.’
‘We can all be tempted. A nice nest-egg to take into retirement, a foreign holiday, who knows what it would take? And he’s been pestering me for details of the progress of my enquiries.’
‘I hope he hasn’t got anywhere.’
‘No, sir.’
‘Good. I’d be put out if I thought he knew more about what was going on than I did. Have you spoken to Grigar about these suggestions?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Reported them to Internal Affairs?’
‘No, sir. I didn’t think I had enough proof.’
‘It’s their job to look for proof, not yours. I’ll speak to Major Rajka and get his team onto it.’
‘Thank you, sir.’
‘So what next? These Bosnians are still out and about.’
‘I plan to bring them in, sir, but I don’t expect it to be easy. We may need armed backup.’
‘I hope that doesn’t mean Dvorník and his personal collection.’
‘No, sir. But it’s hard to think how best to do this.’
The Director looked at the map of Prague on his wall. ‘Do you know where they are?’
Slonský walked over to join him. ‘Savović’s office is here. They share a villa here. Their clubs are here and here. The clubs are the place they’re most likely to be but that means arresting them at night.’
‘Let’s try the office first. You interviewed him there so that’s a possibility. If he isn’t there we’ll leave a man watching and we’ll raid the club tonight. I’ll organise some armed support for you.’
Slonský felt just a smidgen of concern at the use of the word “you”. He had hoped his presence at the arrest might not be needed but managed to stammer his thanks. The Director examined his watch.
‘Shall we say 14:30 for the roundup?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Good. Now to the other reason I asked you here. Captain Lukas was here yesterday to discuss returning to work.’
‘Excellent news, sir. Shall I clear his room?’
‘Not yet, Slonský. I hear you aren’t in it anyway. I receive regular reports on the arrangements you’ve made.’
‘Bloody Doležal.’
The Director smiled. ‘You know a policeman never reveals his sources. Don’t worry, I told you to organise it however you thought best and that’s what you’ve done. I’m not going to criticise you for that. In fact, the department has never run so efficiently. I can’t recall a time when so many reports arrived punctually.’
‘I can’t claim the credit, sir.’
‘And you weren’t going to get it. Officer Peiperová possesses a rare administrative talent. So much so that when Captain Lukas returns, I’d like her to come here to act as my personal assistant.’
Slonský was taken aback. ‘I don’t have to have Kuchař, do I, sir?’
‘No, Slonský. Nobody should have to have a Kuchař, not even among my enemies. When his year is up I’m sending him to Interpol. With luck he won’t come back. But I thought I’ve had enough of Academy graduates. It would be good to have someone who has come up through the ranks the long way round.’
‘She’s undoubtedly qualified, sir. And she’s ambitious, and there’s no doubt that being personal assistant to the Director of Criminal Police would look good on any job application.’
The Director coughed gently. ‘It may be personal assistant to someone at a higher level by then.’
‘We live in hope, sir,’ said Slonský quickly. ‘I’m just unsure what effect this will have on Navrátil.’
‘Of course, there’s no special relationship between workmates under your supervision, is there?’
‘Not during work time, sir.’
‘Not quite what the regulations say, Slonský. Perhaps separating them now would be a good thing in the long run.’
‘Perhaps, sir.’
‘Well, it’s an offer, Slonský, not a posting. She’s free to make her own mind up. Will you raise it with her?’
‘Yes, sir. Maybe after the excitement this afternoon, sir, rather than before.’
‘Good idea. But you haven’t asked me when Captain Lukas will be returning.’
‘No, sir. You’ll tell me if you want me to know.’
‘He may appear for a day or two before Christmas, but we’re going to phase him back into work slowly in the new year. However, Captain Lukas has intimated that he plans to retire next July. I propose to appoint his replacement in May so Lukas can be around to offer support and guidance. Start thinking, Slonský. Do you want the job?’
The sausage tasted like sawdust in his mouth. For some reason he did not really understand Slonský decided he should pay a quick visit to Lukas to share the discussion he had just had with the Director.
‘Come in, Slonský! Darling, Slonský’s here! Would you like some lunch?’
‘Thank you, but I’ve just had a sausage.’
‘Ah, sausages! A thing of the past for me, I’m afraid. My stomach won’t take it.’
‘No sausages? Ever?’
‘No. Too much fat, you see.’
Slonský needed to sit down. ‘No sausages — for life. I can’t imagine that, sir.’
‘A sacrifice I’m happy to make if it means the pain doesn’t come back.’
‘But what kind of life is it without sausages?’ Slonský whispered.
‘I’m sure you didn’t come to discuss the existential importance of sausages, Slonský.’
‘No, sir. I’ve been to see the Director this morning who gave me the good news that you’ll be back soon.’
‘Part-time,’ called Mrs Lukasová from the kitchen.
‘Part-time,’ agreed Lukas. ‘For now.’
‘Nevertheless, very welcome, sir. Less welcome was the Director’s plan to get his hands on Officer Peiperová and make her his personal assistant.’
‘Yes, he shared that with me. She’ll be very pleased. She’s an ambitious and competent young lady.’
‘From the selfish point of view, I’d rather hoped to keep her. Competence isn’t in great supply in the police force.’
‘You’ve got Navrátil. You mustn’t be greedy.’
‘Will he be the same if she moves on like this?’
‘Isn’t he up for his lieutenant’s grading next year?’
‘He could be. Perhaps I should make sure he gets the paperwork in. That’s one thing that shouldn’t go into Peiperová’s in-tray.’
‘Very wise. Bring it to me and I’ll sign it.’
Slonský was just getting into the car when Major Rajka phoned. Rajka was one of the good guys in Slonský’s view, a relatively young officer who headed up the division that investigated the behaviour of police personnel. It was so refreshing to have someone running that team wh
o was not the biggest crook in the police force, Slonský reflected.
Rajka asked a few pertinent questions, then said that he thought they should give Grigar some rope.
‘If you mean round his neck, I’m all for that,’ Slonský commented.
‘If he’s guilty, I’ll agree with you, but what I actually meant was that we shouldn’t let him know we’re onto him just yet. I may just send a man to do some quiet digging and a bit of surveillance. Disclosure time, Slonský — I know Grigar, and I’d be very surprised if he’d done anything amiss. But I’ve been doing this work long enough to know that my instincts are by no means infallible.’
‘I’d normally agree with you, sir. I just can’t think why he would be watching Navrátil. Or, for that matter, why Hrdlička withheld his full reports. It can only be because he discovered something that made him distrust his superior.’
Navrátil started the engine as Slonský hung up, but before they had gone many metres the phone rang again.
‘Novák here.’
‘Ah, the prodigal returns. Where have you been when I needed you?’
‘Speaking at a conference in Brussels.’
‘What organisation was so desperate that they wanted you to speak to them?’
‘The European Forensic Biometrics Group. You may not realise it, Slonský, but I am an acknowledged expert on footprints and foot recognition technology.’
‘I don’t need technology to recognise feet, Novák. They’re the odd shaped bits that stick out at the ends of your legs.’
‘Ha, ha. Give me a week or two to stop laughing. I’m ringing about Hrdlička’s ears.’
‘I thought you specialised in feet?’
‘Do you want to know or not? I think your suspicion was right. He was subjected to a very loud noise that damaged an eardrum. It wouldn’t be conclusive in court, but it’s a fair bet.’
‘Thank you, Dr Novák.’
‘That’s not all.’
‘No?’
‘You’ll be very glad you had me to hand when I tell you the next bit. It occurred to me that the use of a short-bladed knife implied that the killer was right behind Hrdlička. And we know where Hrdlička was because we found him there and his knees were firmly in the snow. There’s a footprint between Hrdlička’s legs that attracted my attention. It’s a left foot, which is consistent with a right-handed attacker leaning forward to push the blade home.’