by Graham Brack
‘No coffee cups waiting to be washed,’ Navrátil noted.
‘Interesting bedroom, wouldn’t you say?’
‘A bit girly for my taste, sir.’
‘Undoubtedly. But I bet you have sheets on your bed.’
‘I bet she did too, sir.’
‘So our murderer took them with him, thereby removing a source of forensic evidence. I hope that doesn’t catch on or our lives will get a lot harder.’
One of the Scenes of Crime team glanced over at them.
‘No prints on the bedside furniture. But there are two nice thumbprints on the bed-head.’
‘Really? How careless. You might want to check them against the cup I dropped in the other day.’
Navrátil appeared to be enacting some strange ritual.
‘What are you doing, Navrátil?’
‘I’m trying to think how the thumbs would be if he gripped the headboard while he was … occupied, sir.’
‘I’m sure he gripped it nice and hard, son, so they’ll be good prints. Well, I think we’ve done all we can here. Nobody saw anything, not even the murderer staggering downstairs with a dead woman wrapped in a sheet over his shoulder. Whatever happened to old women, Navrátil? When I was a lad all the women in our street knew everything I’d been up to and shopped me to my mother without a moment’s thought. Now they don’t even see a neighbour being murdered and carted off. Come on, let’s get some sleep. It’ll be a long day tomorrow.’
‘It’s been a long day today, sir.’
Slonský smiled faintly.
‘I suppose it has, hasn’t it? But it’s what makes the blood rush in your veins, all this sort of thing. We’re on the move, lad, and someone is going to be behind bars soon.’
Chapter 7
Slonský gazed out of the window as the rising sun reflected from the windows of the buildings across the street.
‘I’ve got the report, sir. The Scenes of Crime team must have worked through the night.’
‘That’s because I told them to. What have we got?’
Navrátil scanned the cover sheet rapidly.
‘The prints on the bed-head match those on the cup, sir.’
‘Well, the Minister can hardly deny being in the bed, then. He lied to us, Navrátil. I can’t wait to tell Captain Lukas. He’ll be so shocked.’
Slonský picked a folder from his desk and handed it to Navrátil.
‘Have a look at that, lad. The DNA on the cup matches the swab from the victim.’
‘It’s looking pretty bleak for the Minister, then, sir.’
‘Look a little further, Navrátil. There are two sheets in that folder.’
‘The Minister’s bank statement?’
‘Yes. And look at last Tuesday.’
Navrátil gulped.
‘A cash withdrawal. Two hundred and forty-nine thousand, two hundred and fifty crowns.’
Lukas read and re-read the notes. ‘I don’t mind admitting I’m shocked, Slonský. Absolutely shocked. To think that a minister of the state could have a mistress, kill her and lie to us about it. Does he think we’re fools? The very man who should know better than any other minister what we can do. It’s … it’s …’
‘Shocking?’
‘Exactly! I’m shocked. Well, our duty is clear. I must take this to the Director and arrange for the Minister’s arrest. It’s your case, Slonský. I’m sure the Director will agree to your being present to get the credit for the arrest.’
‘That’s not necessary, sir.’
‘Nonsense. It’s a job well done for the whole department. We have to be seen to have done our duty.’
‘Will you be telling the Prime Minister we’re about to bang one of his ministers up for murder, sir?’
Lukas performed his goldfish impersonation one more time.
‘I think someone should, sir. It would be a shame if he read it in the papers first.’
‘Well, it’s hardly my place … surely the Director —’
‘I’m sure the Prime Minister will want to be convinced of the strength of the evidence, sir, so he’ll want to speak to the senior officer in charge.’
‘It’s your case, Slonský.’
‘But you’re my superior, sir. I must defer to you.’
‘Slonský, why do I think that there is something you aren’t telling me? Is this arrest unsafe?’
‘You’ve seen the evidence, sir.’
‘Indeed. It’s clear we must arrest him. But it’s going to cause a bit of a hoo-ha.’
‘Well, it isn’t every policeman that gets to arrest his own boss, I grant you.’
‘So what will you be doing while I go up to see the Prime Minister, Slonský?’
Slonský grimaced. ‘Navrátil is at her flat looking for an address for a next of kin, sir. Somebody ought to be told that she has died.’
Lukas dropped his head onto his chest. That was another job he would prefer not to have to do. All things considered, going to the PM’s office with the Director would be more comfortable.
‘Very well. You and Navrátil examine the flat and inform the next of kin while I tidy things up here. But come and see me as soon as you’ve finished. And don’t speak to the press under any circumstances, Slonský.’
Slonský agreed readily. He hated speaking to the press at any time, a natural consequence of his belief that journalists were, in many cases, more morally repugnant than murderers. When he condescended to share a few words it was either to ask them to help him or to spread misinformation about a case. In any event, it was unlikely to be Slonský that journalists wanted to speak to, especially after he told them in strict confidence that Lukas had been the one who arrested the Minister.
The Director was a fast reader. Before Lukas had managed to arrange his uniform so he could sit without creasing the tail of his jacket, the Director was on his feet and reaching for his uniform hat.
‘Clear enough, Lukas. It’s not conclusive but the forensics prove he was there, the money is strongly circumstantial and his alibi stinks. I have a telephone call to make, then we’ll take this dossier to the Prime Minister and ask him to help us arrest the Minister discreetly.’
‘I’m sure he will appreciate that, sir. The Prime Minister, I mean.’
‘I’m told there’s no love lost between them, Lukas. Would you mind stepping outside and asking my secretary to order my driver round to the front? We’d best go by car.’
Slonský pushed the door open with his foot and slipped crab-wise into the flat, each hand holding a cup of coffee with a pastry balanced on top.
‘Keep your strength up, lad,’ he explained to Navrátil, who was sitting at a small dining table on which he had arranged some small piles of papers.
‘Nothing to connect her directly to the Minister, sir. No love letters, birthday cards, thank you notes.’
‘There wouldn’t be. He’d give her a few coins and tell her to buy her own. Family?’
Navrátil silently handed him a couple of sheets of cheap notepaper.
‘Must be her mother. Not very educated spelling and a shaky hand equals an old lady who doesn’t write much. Anything before this?’
‘No, sir. It looks as if she had only been in Prague a year or so. Do you know the village, sir?’
‘It’s out towards Kladno, I think. Perhaps thirty kilometres away. We can radio in and check before we set out. God, it’s depressing. Her own mother doesn’t seem to know she’s dead yet. Any signs of a father?’
‘He’s mentioned in the second letter, sir. “Dad sends his best.” But no other family.’
Slonský scanned the room once more. He had already imprinted it in his memory the night before, but in daylight it looked a little shabbier. The furniture was neat, but not expensive.
‘She had a bit of taste, bless her. Cheap sofa but some nice cushions on it. She’s worked hard at polishing out the scratch on that table. Just missed a bit where it chipped the edge, look. How old was she?’
‘I haven’t found
anything like that, sir. All her official stuff must have been in a handbag we haven’t got. There are a few bags in the wardrobe but they’re all empty.’
Slonský slurped his coffee and took a large bite from the pastry, chewing slowly and without enjoyment.
‘Phone bills?’
‘There’s one for her mobile phone. We can get call records from that. I’ve started the ball rolling with the phone company.’
‘Good lad. Well, best drink up, son. We can’t put off going to see the mother.’
Lukas was sitting to attention. The Director seemed relaxed enough, but this was the Prime Minister they were talking to, and Lukas felt uneasy at proximity to the powerful. He had been offered a coffee and was paralysed with the fear that he might spill it on the carpet, as a result of which he was sitting bolt upright with the saucer wedged in his lap and had not tasted a drop.
‘Never liked the shifty little devil. Doesn’t surprise me if he topped his mistress. Let’s get him over here and you can slap the cuffs on him.’
‘I’d hoped to avoid that, sir,’ the Director replied.
‘Really? Shame. I’d have enjoyed that. Well, you know best. But if he falls down the stairs a few times during questioning, I won’t take it amiss. I never wanted him but there was pressure from coalition colleagues to give him a top job. At least now I can put my own man in.’
The office door opened and a middle-aged man with an immaculate dark suit and white shirt slithered into the room noiselessly.
‘Komárek, please telephone the Interior Ministry and ask the Minister to come here at once. No excuses. And don’t tell him who is here.’
‘Very good, Prime Minister.’
When he had gone, the three men sat in silence, the Director relaxed in his seat, Lukas rigid and watchful, and the Prime Minister doodling on a notepad.
‘I don’t suppose you’d reconsider the handcuff thing?’ he asked hopefully.
Navrátil slowed as they approached the exit slip road, and was relieved to see the promised police car waiting there. He pulled in to the side of the road about thirty metres further on, and stepped out of the car to greet the local officers.
‘Sergeant Tomáš,’ announced a barrel-shaped officer who emerged from the driver’s seat and flapped a hand like a seal’s flipper in the general direction of his colleague. ‘And that’s Officer Peiperová.’
Slonský completed the introductions.
‘Bad business,’ said the sergeant.
‘Do you know the family?’ asked Slonský.
‘I don’t,’ admitted the sergeant, ‘or, at least, not particularly well. But Peiperová was at school with Gruberová.’
‘She was a year or two ahead of me,’ explained the young officer, who was a tall woman with thick, yellow-blonde hair which she had somehow managed to pile inside her uniform cap.
‘Brothers or sisters?’
‘There’s a brother, but he’s been away from home for a few years now,’ Peiperová explained. ‘I can’t say I knew Irina well, but it’s a shock to me so I can imagine what it will be like for her poor mother.’
‘Father not around?’
‘In body, if not entirely in spirit,’ Tomáš interjected. ‘He’s well known to us. Likes a drink, then gets pulled in for some sort of hooliganism. Usually public nuisance, like urinating in someone’s shop doorway. But he’s quietened down a lot lately. Poor devil is a bit damaged now. Brain running on empty.’
‘Let that be a warning to you, Navrátil,’ Slonský snapped.
‘Me? Why me?’
‘I’m responsible for you, lad. We don’t want that fine brain of yours turning to mush. Well, we’d best get it over and done with. Shall we follow you?’
They returned to their respective cars and smoothly pulled into the traffic. The squad car turned left and after two or three minutes took another left before following the road to the end of the metalled surface. A glutinous muddy track lay before them, but they continued barely fifty metres before the police car signalled right and they turned into a small yard. To the left of them was a fairly substantial old house, though in need of some redecoration and a bit of repair to the rendering at head level. In front there was a chicken shed and a fenced compound where the shed’s inhabitants scratched and pecked their way through their days. On the right-hand side there was a barn of sorts, relatively derelict but still housing some old tools and a quantity of hay.
‘Seen better days,’ Slonský concluded.
‘Haven’t we all,’ the sergeant replied.
The house’s back door opened and a dumpy, grey-haired woman was framed in the doorway. She rubbed her hands on her apron and squinted into the low sun.
‘Mrs Gruberová?’ Slonský asked.
The woman nodded.
‘I’m Lieutenant Slonský of the Criminal Police in Prague. This is Officer Navrátil, who works with me. And Sergeant Tomáš and Officer Peiperová are from the local police.’
‘Is something wrong? Is it Irina?’
Chapter 8
If the Minister was surprised to see Lukas again, he hid it well. He stood in front of the Prime Minister’s desk for a moment, then looked around for a vacant seat.
‘No point in getting ourselves comfortable,’ the Prime Minister barked. ‘Unpleasant business, best done quickly.’
‘Unpleasant business, Prime Minister? What unpleasant business?’
The Director stepped forward and formally cautioned the Minister before telling him he was being arrested for the murder of Irina Gruberová.
‘But this is preposterous!’ the Minister squealed. ‘She was alive and well when I left her.’
‘I would strongly advise you to say no more without your lawyer present,’ said the Prime Minister. ‘Needless to say, I shall have to relieve you of your office. I’ll go to see the President later. Perhaps you’d leave any official keys on my desk before they cart you off to pokey.’
The Prime Minister turned his back and returned to work, leaving a bewildered Minister to walk to the car in the company of Lukas and the Director. As they reached the office door, the two policemen turned and saluted smartly.
‘Shame about the handcuffs,’ muttered the Prime Minister.
Mrs Gruberová cried silently as Peiperová sat beside her and patted the back of her hand.
‘I know this is distressing,’ Slonský began, ‘but we need to ask you some questions to help us find the person who did this. I’m sure you’d want to help us if you can.’
The old woman nodded mutely.
‘How long had your daughter been in Prague?’
‘A bit less than two years.’
‘Do you know what she did for a living?’
Mrs Gruberová looked away for a brief moment, sufficient to tell Slonský that she was unhappy with the answer she had to give.
‘She got a job as a dancer in a club. A man saw her in Kladno and offered her a job. It was better paid than anything she could get around here.’
‘But, if you’ll forgive me, it sounds as if you weren’t happy with the arrangement.’
‘What mother could be happy with her daughter working in such a place? Irina always said nothing nasty happened to her, but if you go around showing yourself to men like that they’re bound to get ideas about the sort of girl you are.’
‘You don’t happen to know the name of the club?’
She shook her head. ‘No. But she stopped working there after a while. She told us last September that she had a boyfriend and he didn’t like her working there, so he made her give it up and gave her money instead.’
‘How did you feel about that?’
‘I thought he would marry her, but I got to thinking that he must already be married and that keeping her like this wasn’t proper. Irina never mentioned marriage and when I raised it with her she said I was silly and marriage was old-fashioned. Well, maybe I am old-fashioned, but who’ll want to marry her after she’s been living with a man?’ There was a pause before Mrs
Gruberová choked back a sob and corrected herself. ‘Who would have wanted to marry her, I mean.’
Slonský let her cry for a while in the silence. When he finally spoke, his voice was unusually soft, and there was just a hint of pain in it. ‘I’ll find him, Mrs Gruberová. Someone will pay for what has happened to your daughter.’
The first interview with the ex-Minister was short and entirely unproductive. It was conducted by Lukas and the Director and was punctuated by demands for lawyers to be present.
‘Of course,’ said the Director. ‘We just wanted to give you the opportunity to avoid the wasting of police time.’
‘I’m innocent!’ Dr Banda insisted. ‘I have told you exactly what happened.’
‘Unfortunately,’ the Director responded, ‘that is what you have not done. You have attempted to mislead us. You said you left Miss Gruberová at her door and drove home.’
‘I think I said that, yes.’
‘But you know that in fact you accompanied her into her flat and made love to her there.’
Banda lowered his head. ‘I admit I did that.’
‘So your first statement to the police was untrue?’
‘Yes.’
‘A deliberate lie?’
‘Yes.’
‘That presents us with some difficulty, Dr Banda. You were, after all, the Minister in charge of policing. It would be reasonable, I suggest, to expect a man in such a position to offer the police every assistance when investigating a crime.’
‘I didn’t want it known that I was consorting with a whore.’
Lukas’ face reddened. Before he knew it, he had spoken. ‘Nothing we have found supports that suggestion!’
Banda raised his head slowly and fixed Lukas with an intense gaze.
‘Then look harder.’
Navrátil, Slonský and Tomáš were standing outside the door, getting some fresh air while Peiperová helped Irina’s mother look for any useful documents and letters.
‘Sir, why do you keep saying you’ll find the man who did this when we already have?’
