Hunting the Hangman

by Howard Linskey

  Evidently deciding not to, he instead spoke to Gabčík and Kubiš. ‘I’ll need two, possibly three days, you understand, to make new papers of the necessary quality. You will need to stay out of trouble till then.’

  ‘That means not going out – literally,’ added Zelenka. ‘I have arranged rooms for you with sympathetic friends. Jan, you will stay first with Aunt Marie in Žižkov. She is not my aunt but everybody calls her that. Marie is a remarkable woman with contacts all over the city. She will make you very welcome.’

  ‘And me?’

  ‘You, Josef, will stay with Fafek, a good friend of mine.’

  ‘And remember you must stay inside until I have completed your papers,’ cautioned Hlinka. ‘Aside from arrest there is another danger. The Nazis are rounding up able-bodied young men and shipping them back to Germany as forced labour. I will need to get you medical exemptions. It’s okay, we have friendly doctors who are not afraid to write certificates for patriots. You, my friend,’ he was addressing Gabčík, ‘are really not looking well. I’m no physician but I suspect you could have a duodenal ulcer.’

  Gabčík smiled at Hlinka. ‘You can tell that just by looking at me?’

  ‘Oh yes, and you, sir, I feel may be about to become the victim of an inflamed gall bladder.’

  ‘How unfortunate,’ answered Kubiš.

  ‘I recommend you refrain from heavy work for some time.’

  ‘I’ll be sure to take your advice.’

  ‘Come on then both of you,’ said Zelenka, ‘we need to get you away from here now. There is no curfew currently but I don’t want you out on the streets too long after dark without proper papers.’

  Before Gabčík left he scooped up the banknotes Strankmüller had given them. Thankfully they proved to be entirely genuine. It seemed like a particularly generous bundle of crowns, and he had been reassured by the familiar presence of landmarks like the King Charles Bridge and Hradčany Castle on the notes. It was only when he had examined the money more closely that he realised they now contained German words as well as Czech. Even the currency had been tarnished.

  17

  ‘If Hitler were to say shoot my mother

  I would do it and be proud of his confidence’

  SS Reichsführer Heinrich Himmler

  Fafek was a short man with a labourer’s rough hands and a physique formed from a combination of hard work and the diligent intake of beer. The man was muscular yet rotund. As soon as Zelenka left his house he led Gabčík into a gloomy front parlour and introduced him to a young woman.

  ‘This is my daughter, Liběna. She will show you where you will sleep.’

  Gabčík turned to see a striking, dark eyed young woman, of 19 or so, watching him with a slightly guarded curiosity. She wore her dark hair long, cascading down over the shoulders, and her face was undeniably beautiful, with the healthy shine of youthfulness. Her eyes, which never left his, hinted heavily at intelligence.

  ‘You have a room upstairs at the back of the house.’ She spoke up now and her clear voice had a pleasing, melodic ring. Gabčík liked Liběna almost instantly. ‘There is fresh linen on the bed and clean water for you in a wash bowl.’

  ‘Thank you, I am sure it will be perfect.’ Oh God, could he not think of anything better to say than that? She smiled slightly and seemed eager to continue their dialogue.

  ‘If you are hungry I will bring you a plate of cold meats and black bread later.’

  ‘You are very kind.’ And extremely pretty, he thought.

  Liběna seemed embarrassed at the praise. ‘It’s no trouble.’ She said it dismissively and looked down at the floor for a moment before remembering she was a young woman now, old enough to be married and no longer expected to hold her tongue like a child. Before she could speak again her father intervened.

  ‘Enough talk, the man is tired, show him his room.’

  Gabčík realised Fafek immediately sensed the possibility of an attraction between this soldier and his daughter and had not taken too kindly to the idea. Josef knew it was a combustible notion, particularly while he was living under the man’s roof. The sensible thing would be to stay out of Liběna’s way, speaking only when spoken to, avoiding trouble but when was he ever noted to possess any sense?

  ‘It’s through here,’ mumbled Liběna, motioning to a door, and Gabčík felt a spark of something in her shyness. He wandered after her dumbly, feeling a strange contentment from her presence.

  No distractions – he told himself wryly as he limped heavily up the staircase after her.

  Kubiš spent a depressing first day at large. Everywhere the streets were festooned with swastikas set in blood red flags. These banners were suspended from windows or balconies owned by genuine Nazi sympathisers or those who merely wished to avoid trouble.

  Somehow he had convinced himself that just by being back in Prague his spirits would be lifted, and as soon as he was in possession of Hlinka’s remarkably authentic looking papers he had gone out to explore the city. Now he was experiencing the grim reality of a homeland occupied by Nazis.

  As he entered the Old Town Square his mood darkened further. Here the Germans had retaliated against a subversive resistance plan, encouraged by the western allies, to etch defiant letter Vs on buildings all over the city. To combat this propaganda they merely hijacked the symbol, using it as part of a V for Victory campaign – an outward sign of the capital’s supposed support for the Nazi war effort. After claiming it as their own they took the scheme a stage further. Huge letter Vs were painted in town squares, and planted into every flowerbed. Now the symbol was everywhere, on trams and buses and depicted on huge banners, which hung the entire length of tall buildings.

  It was a humiliation, and a degradation of the Czech nationalism so evident on the creation of this fledgling country twenty years before. And now, from the evidence of Jan’s own eyes, they were even making everyone drive on the right. A Czech policeman directing traffic the wrong way around the square, under the watchful eye of an armed German sentry, was such a disconcerting sight that Jan was reminded of the first morning of the occupation. He vividly recalled the profound sense of shock when the capital awoke to find the nation had been sold down the river. Some wept openly on the streets. Others wretchedly yet loudly proclaimed the national anthem of their dead country, as they stood in small, defiant groups in Wenceslas Square. They had deliberately chosen the statue of the country’s appropriately heroic, yet betrayed and martyred king as their rallying point.

  As German soldiers patrolled the streets of the capital the first curfew was imposed on the stunned citizens of the city. By 8 pm the streets had been deserted except for the armed sentries outside requisitioned hotels filled with German officers, and military vehicles that arrived unopposed but often became lost in side streets with strange-sounding names. In the afternoons at least they had been able to ask Czech policemen for directions. If you looked out of your window at night, Jan remembered, you could watch them as they drove up and down the silent streets petulantly searching for a landmark, until they chanced upon the river or caught a glimpse of the Castle in the moonlight.

  It was witnessing these alien vehicles in his homeland that finally spurred Kubiš to rebel, escape from the city and continue the fight. Now he once again felt the sense of violation that had driven him to take up arms in the first place.

  Kubiš traversed the Old Town Square then cut through a side street, where the displays of Nazi support were less ostentatious, and continued his journey. He moved swiftly over the cobbles for he was both cold and eager to reach his destination.

  Kubiš would not imperil his immediate family by visiting them – at least until his mission was over. There were too many friends and neighbours – all witnesses to his unexpected return and their questions and concerns would be an unwelcome distraction. He would stay focused until the operation was done. But Jan had to visit
Anna because he simply could not stay away from her.

  When he finally reached her parents’ tiny home he caught a first glimpse of her through the rear kitchen window. She appeared to be reading and he paused for a moment to take in the gentle features of her face. Here was the girl he had thought of constantly during his long separation from her – no less beautiful now for the absence of makeup or a pretty dress. He smiled to himself as he knocked and waited for her.

  Anna’s eyes widened with ecstatic shock as she opened the back door and the long dark hair fell forward into her face as she almost stumbled on the back door step.

  ‘Jan! Is it really you?’ she demanded disbelievingly, her arms outstretched.

  ‘Surely you have not forgotten my face already, Anna, have you?’ he teased, as he pulled the delirious young girl towards him.

  They made love in Anna’s room, grateful for the absence of a household distracted by long factory shifts or the need to find food for the evening meal.

  ‘You know I can’t keep visiting you here like this, Anna,’ he said when it was over.

  Anna wrapped herself around him. ‘You must. I won’t let you leave me again.’

  ‘It’s too dangerous for you if I do. Today okay, we can get away with it once maybe but sooner or later I will be seen by somebody.’

  Anna laughed. ‘You think you visited me here today without being seen? Are you serious? Have you forgotten old Sissi Kitlova – guardian of virginity for every girl in these streets? She sees all with her widow’s eyes. Even as we talk she knows you are in here corrupting me.’

  ‘Really? And what about your mother?’ He tried hard not to sound concerned.

  ‘I told you she would not be back until much later. If I was not entirely sure of it, you can bet I would never let you into my bed like this.’

  ‘I meant what if widow Kitlova tells her?’

  ‘Mother would tell her to mind her own business and not dare to go gossiping about her daughter or there’ll be trouble. Besides, she knows what goes on in days like these. All the old conventions seem ridiculous to the young now. We do not have the luxury our parents had. They could afford to wait.’

  She laid her head against his chest. ‘I was going to wait before, remember, until I knew you would be taken away from me. My mother is no fool. She merely says “Make sure you are careful Anna, that’s all”.’

  She kissed his forehead.

  ‘My father, he is different. He would, of course, kill you.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘But we are careful. We stop before the very end and finish outside, so there are no babies and everyone thinks Anna Malinová is a nice virgin girl instead of the terrible woman she has become, totally corrupted by her soldier lover,’ she turned her head and looked up at him then, ‘and he is so much older than she is!’

  Kubiš tickled her in revenge until she laughed and gasped and begged him for mercy. When he stopped, he held her tightly to him.

  ‘We should be careful in other ways, Anna. It is too dangerous for you to be seen with me. I have a mission you can know nothing about but the Germans will arrest you just the same if it comes to it.’

  ‘Then I will have to learn to live with the danger, Jan, because I never did learn how to live without you.’

  She kissed him full on the lips then and trailed her hand very slowly down his torso.

  ‘So, you really have no choice, you see.’

  She bent to kiss him again and Kubiš murmured his agreement as the hunger for her returned.

  ‘Young love is supposed to be reckless, Jan. Come to me carefully if you must, come to me cautiously, but make sure you do come to me.’

  18

  ‘Of course the Czech workers must have their swill’

  Reinhard Heydrich, October 1941

  The next day Kubiš met Gabčík at the Union Café – a renowned gathering place for intellectuals and would-be future statesmen, a room filled with wood panelling and ancient, gloomy oil paintings. They were there to recruit a contact to assist with surveillance on the Reichsprotektor. The man, chosen by Zelenka, was Šafařík, a joiner on the Hradčany Castle staff, who had reluctantly agreed to meet Gabčík but, when Kubiš arrived, there was no sign of this unlikely spy.

  Instead he joined his friend at a quiet corner table. All around them cigarette smoke hung like incense, obscuring already clandestine gatherings further and adding to the illusion that the café was a somehow sacred place – a chapel for atheists. But who was a spy and who an informer? Who was committed to the resistance and who working for the Gestapo?

  ‘Perhaps this was not the best place to meet,’ pronounced Kubiš.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Well, for a start, everyone in here looks suspicious.’ Gabčík let a smile escape that suggested his friend had a point. At the next table an earnest bunch of philosophers was being addressed by a bespectacled youth with a face the colour of whitewash. ‘If I was the Gestapo I’d just arrest all of them, right now.’

  ‘Tell me,’ said Gabčík, ‘how are things where you are staying?’

  ‘Good,’ replied Kubiš grinning. ‘The lady has a son of about twenty who thinks I am a total hero, come to singlehandedly rid Prague of the Germans.’

  ‘He has not guessed why you are here?’

  ‘No, but he keeps asking me.’

  ‘And what do you say?’

  ‘I tell him, “Ata, don’t let anyone know will you, but I am on a secret mission to count the ducks on the River Vltava.” An answer he does not seem too happy with.’

  ‘As long as he doesn’t tell his friends about you.’

  ‘He won’t – his mother has threatened him with bread and water for a month if he breathes a word and she is formidable, believe me.’

  ‘Sounds like a good woman. And how is Aunt Marie’s cooking?’

  ‘Excellent. I have not eaten so well in years. What about your young girl?’

  ‘Oh, she’s a pretty good cook too.’

  ‘I am more interested in how she looks than how she cooks.’

  ‘She’s okay – you know?’

  ‘Okay? Josef, that is praise coming from you. She must be a rare beauty.’

  Gabčík seemed eager to change the subject. ‘And what about the lovely Anna – how is she?’

  Kubiš beamed. ‘Very pleased to see me, Josef, very pleased to see me.’

  ‘I thought you had an air of contentment.’

  ‘You should try it. It brings out the best in you.’

  Suddenly Gabčík’s expression changed. ‘I think this is our man, Jan.’

  Šafařík walked uneasily into the Union Café – a small figure, he peered apprehensively around the room before recognising Gabčík from the description he had been given and quickly joining the two men at their table. The first thing Kubiš noticed about the man was his greying beard. The hairs were long, harsh and unkempt like the bristles on a broom. When he leant in close to talk to them his breath smelt of liver sausage. Šafařík betrayed nervousness with his first words.

  ‘This man is with you?’ he asked.

  ‘This is Jan and, yes, he is with me. You can tell him everything you wish to say to me.’

  Šafařík still seemed unsure of himself but he conquered his fears long enough to nod an introduction at Kubiš before addressing them both in an under-confident ramble.

  ‘President Hácha was at Hradčany today. He has prepared a birthday gift for the Führer from our nation. A hospital train for German wounded. The man is a total traitor.’

  Hácha had been swept to power immediately after Beneš’ exile. This weak and malleable little fellow found himself in the presidential chair. Heydrich tolerated his continued presence because Hácha was entirely compliant to German wishes.

  Šafařík continued. ‘He took Heydrich down to the bones of St We
nceslas and gave him the keys to the crown jewels. I was one of many to witness the ceremony. The Nazi even held the skull of Wenceslas in his own hands. Obviously, he is unaware of the curse.’

  Kubiš grunted his understanding but Gabčík was no child of the capital.

  ‘What curse?’ he asked.

  It was Kubiš who answered him. ‘It is said that anyone who dares touch the bones of Wenceslas directly will meet a violent death.’

  ‘Really?’ asked Gabčík, genuinely impressed and willing to embrace any omen.

  ‘Yes, and I am sure Hácha knew that,’ added his friend.

  Gabčík turned back to Šafařík. ‘How often does Hácha visit Heydrich?’

  The joiner looked doubtful, reluctant to continue.

  ‘What is it?’ probed Gabčík.

  Šafařík glowered at him and when he continued it was in a resentful whisper.

  ‘I told Zelenka from the start that I don’t like this. I have no idea what you are up to but it smells of the grave to me. I do not want to get involved but Zelenka tells me you are good men and must have information on Hradčany; where everyone goes and when, who sees who and for how long. What the plans are for the days and weeks ahead.’

  ‘That is correct,’ confirmed Gabčík.

  ‘I tell him okay but it is too dangerous for me to keep meeting you in public like this. They would shoot me if they found out. So he says to give this information to two girls he has set up in rooms across the way from the castle. He will give you the address later.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Don’t thank me. I don’t know you. I do this for Zelenka who is a good friend and if he says you are okay then you are okay, but I do not want to hear from you anymore. You cannot contact me or try to meet me after today because, if you do, it will finish and I will stop helping you. Is that understood?’

  ‘Completely,’ confirmed Gabčík while Kubiš stayed silently in the background not wishing to unnerve Šafařík any further.