Lying and Dying

by Graham Brack

  ‘Possibly. But why take her out to dinner, then?’

  ‘So he could tell her in public and she couldn’t make a scene.’

  ‘But then he drove her home and they made love. I haven’t had much to do with women for many a long day, lad, but I can’t see a girl you’ve just dumped inviting you into her bed.’

  ‘I suppose not. Not that I would know,’ Navrátil added hurriedly.

  ‘Well, there’s only one way to find out. Let’s go and interview him.’

  ‘When you say “Interview him”…’

  ‘Cassette recorder, no violence, all above board, Navrátil. What do you take me for?’

  Mucha and a junior officer were standing guard over Banda, who sat at the interview table, a hunched figure in a jumpsuit that was at least one size too big for him. The ends of the legs flopped over his shoes and he had turned the cuffs back to allow his hands some freedom.

  ‘Official interview,’ announced Slonský. ‘The caution still stands.’

  ‘I don’t want him near me,’ squealed Banda.

  ‘Navrátil? Why not?’

  ‘He hits people! I heard you tell him off for doing it.’

  ‘I don’t think so. Navrátil, have I ever told you off for hitting a suspect?’

  ‘No, sir.’

  ‘That would be a very serious disciplinary offence indeed. But since Dr Banda has concerns, why don’t you sit by the door over there, out of arm’s reach. I mean, out of harm’s way.’

  ‘What did you do to that unfortunate in the cell opposite?’

  ‘What unfortunate? What cell? Mucha, do you know anything about this?’

  ‘No, Lieutenant. That cell isn’t occupied and hasn’t been since Sunday night.’

  ‘You were in there earlier,’ Banda screamed. ‘I saw you go in. And there were those horrible noises.’

  ‘I don’t think Mr Sinatra would be pleased to hear you describe his singing as horrible noises. You want to watch that — he had some bad friends, you know.’

  ‘Good thing he’s dead,’ Mucha added, ‘or he might have been upset by that.’

  ‘I think you must be over-excited,’ said Slonský in his most soothing voice. ‘Shall we get on with the interview?’

  He recorded the date and time, and listed those present. On hearing his name, Mucha pointed to the door and slipped out.

  ‘Sergeant Mucha has just left the room,’ Slonský said. ‘Why he couldn’t do that before I recorded his name, I have no idea.’

  ‘I’m saying nothing without my lawyer present,’ declared Banda.

  ‘Very wise, sir. But of course your co-operation or lack of it may be a factor in court.’

  ‘I used to tell my clients not to talk until I got there.’

  ‘Well, you are here,’ Slonský pointed out, ‘so we can begin. The account you gave of your evening with Miss Gruberová contained, as you have admitted, some inaccuracies. Would you now like to tell us what really happened?’

  Banda sat with his arms folded.

  ‘The accused declines to answer. Then I’ll tell you what I think happened. You rang up and arranged to meet. At the end of your working day, around eight o’clock, you met up for dinner at the restaurant you named. The waiting staff confirm that you were both there that evening. During the evening you presented Miss Gruberová with the money for a car that you had promised. She was very grateful. She invited you in when you drove her home, and the pair of you made love. At some time after you climaxed you strangled her, inserted the car money in her vagina, dressed her again and drove her to Holešovice, where you dumped her body by the main railway station.’

  ‘Fiction. Pure fiction,’ said Banda.

  ‘It can’t all be fiction,’ Slonský retorted, ‘because some of it is lifted directly from your statements. And when I dropped in on the restaurant last night they agreed that the two of you had dinner there.’

  ‘It’s accurate enough until we get to the climax. Then I dressed and left.’

  ‘Did she dress?’

  ‘I think she said she was going to take a shower. She wasn’t dressed when I left.’

  ‘Did you see anyone else on your way out?’

  ‘No, but there must have been, I suppose, given that someone killed her soon after I went.’

  ‘Or you did it yourself, of course. So where could this invisible man have been hiding, do you think?’

  ‘I don’t know. Since I didn’t see him, how could I know where he was?’

  ‘Let’s return to the matter of the car money. Do you admit going to a bank near your office on the morning of the killing and withdrawing the money for the car?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘I’d promised it. I like to keep my promises.’

  ‘There’s a bit of a fine distinction between refusing the money, and giving it but then murdering the recipient, wouldn’t you say?’

  ‘This is preposterous!’

  ‘So you wouldn’t agree with me?’

  ‘No!’

  ‘So the accused sees no distinction at all between refusing to keep his promise and keeping it but snatching the money back.’

  Banda’s hand snaked out and switched off the cassette. Slonský stared him down for a few seconds, then he turned the recorder back on.

  ‘The recorder was turned off by the accused and was off for less than twenty seconds,’ Slonský recorded. ‘Isn’t that the case, Dr Banda?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I don’t think we heard you.’

  ‘Yes! Yes, I turned the tape off. No, it wasn’t off for long.’

  ‘Temper, temper!’ cooed Slonský. ‘Would you like us to give you a moment to collect your thoughts?’

  ‘There’s no need. I’m perfectly collected, thank you.’

  ‘Would you like a glass of water?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Perhaps a biscuit?’

  ‘No, thank you.’

  ‘Do you have an anger management problem? I only ask because you’re clenching your fists.’

  ‘That’s because I find you intensely annoying.’

  ‘Just doing my job, sir. Trying to find the murderer of a young Czech girl whom you admit to having screwed just minutes before she was strangled.’

  ‘We don’t know it was only minutes before.’

  ‘You don’t know that,’ agreed Slonský.

  ‘That’s it,’ Banda announced. ‘I’m not saying any more until my lawyer is here.’

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Slonský. ‘Navrátil, call Sergeant Mucha and have the accused returned to his cell.’

  Mucha and the young uniformed policeman escorted Banda to the cells. Slonský waited until they had gone, then turned to Navrátil with a broad smile on his face.

  ‘That went very well, I think. Beer and a sausage, Navrátil?’

  The bottle smashed against the brick wall, and the thrower sank back onto a bench in the square. A stout figure in a dark coat slipped onto the bench beside him.

  ‘They killed my girl. Where were you when they killed my girl?’

  ‘I know,’ said Tomáš. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a lift home.’

  ‘Aren’t you going to arrest me like normal?’

  ‘Not tonight, Václav. You’re entitled to throw a bottle or two tonight.’

  Chapter 10

  The morning newspapers made interesting reading, thought Slonský. The sacking of the Minister and his arrest by the police were given due prominence on the front pages of all the papers, except one tabloid that chose to lead with a story about a television personality who had denied having cosmetic surgery. The press release announcing the arrest had come, by agreement, from the Prime Minister’s office; the police had declined to give any details of the charge, nor to reveal where the ex-Minister was being held, though every resident of Prague knew where that would be. And the majority of them were wrong. If everyone arrested finished up at Pankrác, it would need a capacity bigger than the Sparta football stadium.<
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  It was the best time of the day, thought Slonský, the half hour or so before everyone began arriving. Time when he could do his best thinking. Today his best thinking was devoted to one subject: why would an intelligent man like Banda, who had been the personification of caution all his adult life, do something as profoundly stupid as inserting nearly a quarter of a million crowns in his girlfriend’s vagina? Was he two-faced enough to make love to her one minute, and despise her enough to humiliate her corpse like that a few minutes later? Well, he was a politician. Being two-faced probably came naturally to him. But even so …

  Captain Lukas entered the room.

  ‘Is it going to stick?’ he asked.

  ‘I’m not sure, sir,’ Slonský replied. ‘We’d best be cautious about what we say.’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Lukas. ‘I’ll make sure we are. What worries you?’

  ‘I don’t believe a man like Banda does silly things. And this was a profoundly silly thing to do. If Banda turned murderer he’d be better at it than this.’

  Lukas pulled up a chair and sat down heavily.

  ‘Josef, we’ve both known intelligent men do really stupid things.’

  ‘Yes, I suppose we have. But this man does nothing by impulse. He’s a cold, unemotional piece of flint. If he put the money inside her he did it for a reason. And I can’t think what that reason could be. Until I can, I can’t be sure he’s our man.’

  ‘The evidence tells its own story.’

  They sat in silence for a few moments as Slonský revisited the evidence trail in his head.

  ‘He seems guilty. I can’t explain how he could be innocent in the face of the evidence.’

  Lukas lifted himself out of the chair with a degree of effort.

  ‘Well, we all know things aren’t always what they seem.’

  As the Captain headed for his office, Slonský repeated his words to himself.

  ‘Things aren’t always what they seem. No, they aren’t. Why aren’t they?’

  When Navrátil arrived about a quarter of an hour later he found Slonský in a state not far off a trance. He was gazing fixedly at a blank wall and mumbling as if reciting his catechism.

  ‘Are you all right, sir?’

  ‘Never better. Lukas is a genius, you know that?’

  ‘Captain Lukas? Our Captain Lukas?’

  ‘Things are not always what they seem. That’s what he said. And he’s right.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘Navrátil, what do we know? We know that the Minister made love to Miss Gruberová, and that she was strangled very soon afterwards; so soon, in fact, that we can probably pin it on him. But we’ve been assuming he was alone.’

  ‘He was, sir. He drove her back from the restaurant. And she’d hardly do … what she did … in front of an audience.’

  ‘But suppose he’d arranged for an accomplice to be there. She was a fit young woman and he isn’t exactly Samson, is he? How did a little runt like him pin down a girl like that? If he’d knocked her out I could understand it, but she was strangled. She fought — remember the leather under her nails? — so how did he subdue her? But if he had an accomplice, it’s easy. He makes love to her, leaves the door open when he leaves; the accomplice comes in, strangles the girl, and there’s no sign of forced entry. If the Minister is quick enough he can even get home to establish an alibi. Maybe his wife isn’t lying; maybe he really was home when Irina was killed.’

  ‘But if a third party did it, why insert the money? Wouldn’t a hired criminal just pocket it? There’s no hint that he was disturbed, and he disposed of the body as and when he wanted.’

  Slonský mulled this argument over for a while to the accompaniment of mumbling and staring as before.

  ‘Who wanted her dead, Navrátil? Who is most likely to want a mistress out of the way?’

  ‘A wife, I suppose.’

  ‘Exactly. A wife who gives her husband an alibi.’

  ‘It’s a pretty feeble, inexact alibi, sir.’

  ‘Yes, but we can’t prove it isn’t true. We’ve been looking at the alibi as Banda’s alibi provided by his wife. Actually, they’re guaranteeing each other. And if they’re in it together, it could be false as a ninety-crown note.’

  ‘You’ve lost me, sir.’

  ‘Mrs Bandová finds out about the girlfriend. She makes a scene. The girlfriend can’t harm Banda’s career — he’d shrug it off, like so many do — but if his wife divorces him and sells the story to the press, he’s in trouble. He agrees to get rid of Irina, but Mrs Bandová knows of only one way to guarantee that he doesn’t go on seeing his mistress behind her back. So they cook up a plan. He’ll be the usual loving friend, take her to dinner, take her home, make sure he leaves DNA traces on her, make sure there is evidence tying him to the crime. Then he leaves and establishes an alibi while the murderer kills her. It might be Mrs Bandová herself or, more likely, someone she recruited. Now, here’s the cunning bit. If we don’t charge Banda, suspicion could fall on the real murderer, so Mrs Bandová’s security depends on Banda being charged. The best guarantee of non-prosecution she can have is if we think he’s guilty but got away with it. We’ll devote all our efforts to nailing him and forget to look for anyone else.’

  ‘But he might get convicted. How does that look so cunning?’

  ‘Because he won’t. We can’t quite prove it was him. His lawyer will ask whether he is so stupid as to leave his sperm inside the victim, or to put money we can easily trace to him inside her vagina. He’ll create just enough doubt to get his man off. Banda will threaten to sue the rear end off anyone who accuses him of having done it, and he’s protected from a life in jail because he has already been acquitted and he can’t be charged with the same crime again.’

  Navrátil was unconvinced, but could not disprove the argument.

  ‘So how do we test this theory, sir?’

  ‘Cherchez la femme, Navrátil.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘The woman, lad. Let’s go and talk to the Minister’s wife. If she genuinely didn’t know about the mistress, my theory falls to bits. But if she did know, we have to put the frighteners on them by hinting that we’re after her rather than him. If she is in the dock, the sperm evidence and the money don’t help her. Far from making her look too stupid to be guilty, they make her look like a jealous wife who gave a whore her earnings after she killed her.’

  ‘I’ll get the car, sir.’

  ‘You do that, Navrátil. Meanwhile I’ll go and get some essential detective equipment.’

  ‘Sir?’

  ‘A flask of coffee and some pastries, my boy. I can’t think on an empty stomach.’

  Chapter 11

  Banda’s wife opened the door herself. She was a tall, attractive woman, with chestnut brown hair that just brushed her shoulders, and some expensive-looking pearl stud earrings. Her eyes, though green in colour, flashed red with annoyance when she discovered who they were.

  ‘Should I call my lawyer?’

  ‘If you wish, but we don’t intend this as a formal interview.’

  ‘You say that now, but if I say something that helps your case against my poor husband, you’ll use it, caution or no caution.’

  ‘There are rules about that, madam. And I don’t need to bolster the case against your husband. I want to hear your side of it all.’

  ‘Mine? I have nothing to do with it.’

  ‘Your loyalty to your husband does you credit, Mrs Bandová, particularly since he has admitted that he betrayed you with a younger woman.’

  ‘Not to me, he hasn’t.’

  ‘Perhaps not. But you’re an educated woman, and the Minister isn’t the sort of man to spend his life with someone who isn’t an intellectual match. You’ve got brains; you must have known something was going on.’

  ‘Brains, yes, but not experience. I don’t know what a man does when he has a mistress. He didn’t buy her jewellery and leave it lying around, if that’s what you’re getting at.’

  �
��What about your intuition? Didn’t that tell you something? Aren’t women supposed to know these things?’

  She chewed her knuckle for a moment in deep thought, as if the action would help her keep something to herself. It failed.

  ‘He had been a little distant.’

  ‘Distant?’

  ‘Undemonstrative.’

  ‘You mean he slept in the spare room?’

  ‘No! But it’s certainly true that he showed less interest in me.’

  ‘But you didn’t know Miss Gruberová?’

  ‘Certainly not. She wasn’t the sort of woman I would meet socially, Lieutenant.’

  ‘Your husband tells us she was helping him to plan your birthday party.’

  ‘Does he? Far-sighted of him. It isn’t for another eight months yet.’

  Slonský smiled gently.

  ‘Looks like he’s slipped us both a pack of lies, then.’

  ‘He’s not a bad man, Lieutenant. He’s been incredibly stupid, but he’s not wicked.’

  ‘I wouldn’t argue with that assessment, madam, and coming from his wife it carries some weight. But was he stupid enough to kill?’

  ‘Maybe. But he couldn’t swat a fly. He hasn’t the stomach to be a killer. If he was going to turn to crime it would be something like fraud, something where he could pit his wits against yours. Killing someone he didn’t give a toss about isn’t his style.’

  ‘Didn’t he love her?’

  ‘Albert doesn’t love anyone except himself, Lieutenant. He’s fond of me and the children, but he’s not a loving person.’

  ‘So why have a mistress, if not for love?’

  ‘I don’t know. Because he can, because he likes the thrill of his little secret, because his friends have all got one. I don’t know.’

  ‘Forgive me, but I have to ask. Could it be just for sex?’

  She gave a small, but mirthless laugh.

  ‘His appetite did not exceed mine. If quantity was all he wanted, he could have topped up here. But he is a busy man and he was often “tired” at the end of the day.’

  ‘So he’d rather have burger out than steak at home.’

  ‘Indelicate but accurate. Steak was waiting for him.’