by Alan Bardos
'Here, take this.' Ilic passed him the box and Johnny took it gratefully, assuming that if he was holding the box, Ilic couldn’t use whatever was in it to kill him. Then it dawned on Johnny that his sole purpose for being there was to act as a decoy. If they were stopped, it was Johnny's neck on the block.
They took a branch line train going to Ilidza and Johnny wondered fleetingly if Libby had arrived there yet or if she was still in the arms of the preening dandy. Ilic kicked Johnny out of his gloom as they got into Mariendvor Station in the suburbs of Sarajevo. From there they had a hot and sweaty tram ride to the Cathedral of the Sacred Heart and a short walk back to the boarding house.
Ilic finally took the box back when they were in his room.
'You got them?' Gavrilo asked, looking up from a book as they entered.
'Yes,' Ilic answered and started to struggle with the cord tied around the box.
‘Here use this.’ Without thinking, Johnny handed him the knife he’d brought and Ilic cut the cord and unwrapped the newspaper. To Johnny's surprise, there was a black sugar box inside. Ilic opened the box and looked reassured and worried, almost in the same moment. Then he pulled out a small automatic pistol and pointed it straight at Johnny.
Johnny recoiled, caught unaware. A jumbled mass of thoughts tumbled through his mind: being with Libby, betting every penny he had on the spin of a wheel. Johnny had done all he could to live a life and still had so much more to do. He couldn't understand why Ilic had waited until he was home to do this.
Ilic lowered the gun, his demonstration over. 'You kept your nerve today, Jovo. Are you willing to swear your allegiance to our cause?'
‘I am,’ Johnny said, regaining his composure. ‘With my dying breath I will fight for what is right.’
'On Vidovdan, we shall honour the memories of Obilic and Zerajic by killing the tyrant, Archduke Franz Ferdinand and sacrificing ourselves for our people. Are you willing to join us?' Gavrilo asked.
'I would be honoured.' Johnny smiled with relief and pride. He looked from the lofty intellectual to the slight, intense adolescent and couldn't believe they'd be capable of such an act. 'Will it just be us?'
'No, there are others,' Ilic replied.
Johnny nodded. 'Nedjo also?'
Ilic and Princip exchanged a look. 'Nedjo may be one of us but we have one other in our group. There is also a second cell known only to Ilic,' Princip replied as he started to take the rest of the guns out of the box. Johnny decided to leave it at that - he'd already gone above and beyond the call of duty. This little escapade was over.
Chapter 23
Johnny was entranced by the nimble figure of a belly dancer. She moved naturally, as if she was making love - wild and beautiful.
They were about the same age, but the dancer was epochs ahead of him in every other respect. He'd tried to catch her eye, but she’d continued to beat out the rhythm with hypnotic hips, giving nothing away under her green veil. Johnny had never seen a woman out of his league before; it was a disquieting and arousing sensation.
He glanced over at Breitner, sitting next to him in judgement, waiting for Johnny to finish his report. He'd been hoping that Breitner might be as distracted by the entertainment as the little chap from the British Consulate had been. Instead, it was Johnny who was caught in the trap, unable to think or talk.
'You did ask for this meeting,' Breitner said piously. Johnny had sent him a note after his little adventure with Ilic. As nerve-racking as that had been, Johnny felt he'd met the challenge manfully and was now enjoying the new experience of a job well done. 'Did you see what was in the package?'
'You say that as if it was nothing,' Johnny replied, gulping down his wine and signalling to the waiter for another. Now that it was all over, he could afford himself a little insolence.
Breitner sighed. Johnny stole another glance at the belly dancer, trying one last time to catch her eye with a rakish smile, but it just made her stop dancing and sashay off the stage in the same heartbreakingly provocative way in which she'd owned it.
The spell broken, Johnny faced Breitner, who was smiling as he enjoyed Johnny’s disappointment. It was the first time that Johnny had seen Breitner since he’d been press ganged into this whole sordid affair. He hadn’t been in a fit state then to realise just how irritating this jaunty Hungarian could be.
'Yes, I saw what was in the box, Breitner.'
'Good. They must trust you.'
'In a manner of speaking.' Johnny related how Ilic had pointed a pistol at him.
'There couldn't have been a dry pair of trousers in the house,' Breitner said wryly. Johnny shrugged. He should have known he wasn't in any real danger - Ilic hadn't cocked the pistol.
'So, there were pistols in the box?'
'Yes, four Browning model semi-automatics - modern and compact, lethal looking things.'
Breitner nodded, surprised. 'You sound quite knowledgeable.'
'I am a special reserve officer in the British Army.' In truth Johnny had recognised the pistols as the same type used in the Caillaux case. ‘There were also six bombs, about the same size and shape as a half decent hip flask and ammunition for the guns.’
'Where are the weapons now?'
'In the Gladstone bag you gave me, under Gavro's fold-down bed.' They'd needed something damp proof to keep the weapons in, so they'd naturally taken Johnny's bag.
'He hid them under his bed? Incredible.' Breitner smiled, amused by the calibre of people he was dealing with. 'Did they tell you exactly what they plan to do with this arsenal?'
'On Vidovdan, we shall honour the memories of Obilic and Zerajic, by killing the tyrant, Archduke Franz Ferdinand,' Johnny said, repeating what he'd been told.
Breitner raised an eyebrow. 'You haven't, as you English say, gone native?'
'Of course not - you knew that's what they're planning to do,' Johnny snapped. He felt glad that he wouldn't have to suffer Breitner for much longer.
'Did your new friends tell you how they intend to kill the tyrant?' Breitner asked, with a mocking tinge to his voice.
'Why don't you just go and arrest them? Surely you have enough evidence now?' And leave him to get on with his life, or what was left of it, Johnny thought.
Breitner gave him a sceptical look but Johnny ignored it, too distracted by the long elegant fingers that had just tapped him on the back. He gazed up into a pair of amber eyes, shining from the veiled face of the dancer. They were slightly hooded and gave her an irreverent, mocking look that seemed somehow familiar. He had only caught her eye for a split second, but there had been a definite summons.
'Have you met the third person who came from Belgrade with Gavrilo, or any of the members of the local cell which Ilic is recruiting?' Breitner asked, pretending not to have noticed the dancer.
'Not that I know of.' Johnny resented this constant nitpicking. None of that was important now, as he watched the dancer sway through the cafe.
‘I’ve met that girl before - in the park!’ She’d stopped to stand in a side door. He still hadn't met a woman who could resist his brash charm, he thought cheerfully, as he got up to follow her.
Breitner put a hand out to stop him. 'You have to find out who else Ilic has recruited.'
Johnny's legs buckled and he sat back down. 'You want me to go back?'
'Surely, you don't think what you've just told me is enough to regain your honour? We don't even know how they're planning to carry out the assassination, or if they're being supported by anyone.'
'Isn't waiting dangerous? They're armed now. Anything could happen… to me,' Johnny said, his mind reeling. He looked around but the dancer had disappeared, the side door most definitely shut.
'You'll have to spike the weapons, Johnny.'
'How do you expect me to do that?'
'You're a special reserve officer are you not? You must know about such things,' Breitner replied smugly.
'Square bashing is all I know - and how to polish buttons.'
Breitner s
miled softly; he knew Johnny was lying. 'It's important that you render the weapons safe, so that your new friends won't pose a danger to you… or to the Heir, while you discover what Gavrilo and Ilic are planning, and who else is involved in the plot.'
'But not even Gavrilo's met the other cell. These are expert revolutionaries we're dealing with here, Breitner.'
'I think not, my dear Johnny,' Breitner smiled. 'Nedjo Cabrinovic has registered at an address in Franz Josef Street. No doubt his father made him do that; he owns a cafe nearby and believes in the benefits of our rule, which I'm sure is a bone of contention between them. Go to the cafe and see if you can find out anything else. Nedeljko Cabrinovic is not exactly discreet, so you might pick something up. Other than that, keep trying to ingratiate yourself with Gavrilo and Ilic. We must know everything about their plot before we can ensure the safety of the Heir and you can claim your reward.'
Johnny groaned. He had no choice but to carry on. 'They’re expecting me to have cash, I told them I was going to visit my maiden aunt to beg for money.' Breitner gave him a few coins - any more would obviously have aroused suspicion.
The Cabrinovics’ cafe seemed pretty shabby compared to the wonders that Johnny had just witnessed and come so close to experiencing at his previous port of call. The sound of shouting in some far off backroom did nothing to lift the gloom of the place. He couldn’t believe Breitner had cast him out of paradise to come here.
However, Johnny soon forgot his woes when he saw a striking girl sitting in a far corner. She was about seventeen, her face an attractive blend of strength and sensitivity. Everything about her radiated a bright, vibrant nature. To Johnny's surprise, she was talking to Gavrilo. He knew this was too good an opportunity to miss.
'Hello there,' Johnny called as he headed towards them. Gavrilo turned around and scowled at him. 'Please, introduce me to your friend, Gavro.'
'Jovo, this is Miss Vukosava Cabrinovic,' Gavrilo said grudgingly.
'Good evening, Miss Cabrinovic. Pleased to meet you,' Johnny said.
Vukosava looked up at him, her eyes smiling even before she greeted him. 'Good evening. Please join us.'
Johnny ignored Gavrilo's withering looks and pulled up a chair at the end of their table.
'Cabrinovic - are you a relation of Nedjo Cabrinovic?' Johnny asked.
'Nedjo is my elder brother,' Vukosava said. 'How do you know him?'
'Hasn't everyone heard of Nedjo Cabrinovic?' Johnny answered, for want of anything sensible to say.
Gavrilo frowned. 'Jovo has heard Nedjo talk of the great deeds he will perform for our people.'
'Nedjo is your friend and comrade, Gavrilo,' Vukosava cut in, before Gavrilo could say anything further about her brother.
'We have a common cause,' Gavrilo agreed.
'Nedjo used to bring Gavro home. He was a poor half-starved wretch and we'd feed him.' Vukosava grinned at the memory.
'Even with nine children to feed, they always had a place for me,' Gavrilo said.
'Do you remember, Gavro, when you caught me reading, "The Secrets of the Istanbul Palace"? You were so annoyed that you took it away and made me read Uskokovic and Oscar Wilde.' She made a mock sad face. Gavrilo beamed - the poor peasant boy was definitely sweet on this smart, city girl.
'Someone had to take charge of your moral well being, Vukosava,' Gavrilo said, making her laugh.
'What would my father say if he heard you talk like that?' She chided him gently and ruffled his hair. Gavrilo blushed, embarrassed. Johnny wondered if Gavrilo had decided not to deny himself love in the name of his cause after all; Johnny would certainly have forgotten about everything he believed in for a girl like her.
'Will Nedjo be joining us? Johnny asked. He hadn’t completely forgotten his own cause and it was time he got on with it.
Vukosava inclined her head towards the shouting. 'Nedjo is talking with my father.'
'Oh I see, sorry.' Johnny quickly changed the subject. 'Your father owns this cafe?'
'That's right, Jovo,' Vukosava replied.
'A self-made man?' Johnny asked.
'He certainly understands the value of thrift and hard work.'
'You and your brother must have learnt a lot about the practicalities of life from such a man,' Johnny said gently, trying to steer the conversation back to Nedjo.
The shouting in the backroom started to get nearer and Vukosava smiled, embarrassed. 'Vaso Cabrinovic is a very practical man. When I was at school I had to read a poem in a pageant. I longed for a new dress and shoes to wear for the occasion, but I knew my father would never buy me them without good reason, so I told him that if I didn't have a new dress and shoes we would be shamed in front of our neighbours.
He saw my point, but instead of the pretty dress I dreamed of he brought me the most hideous thing you can imagine, made from the strongest material he could find. It was several sizes too big for me so that it would last for years and I had a new pair of boots to go with it.'
'Do you and your brother follow in his footsteps?' Johnny asked.
'No, Nedjo is a dreamer. He doesn't follow my father's lead in anything, as you can hear. I, on the other hand, well, I'm studying to be a dentist.'
'A dentist?' Johnny was genuinely surprised.
'She likes to inflict pain,' Gavrilo said sarcastically. He was tired of being ignored. 'My brother is cut from the same cloth as Vaso Cabrinovic. He thinks more of making money than freeing his people from oppression.'
'Maybe he feels they can free themselves by following his example and exploiting the opportunities the Monarchy has given us, rather than pursuing ideas and pipe dreams,' Vukosava replied, teasing him, but Gavrilo looked angry. He might have lost his temper if the argument backstage hadn't burst out into the cafe.
Johnny recognised Nedjo Cabrinovic as he was pushed into the cafe by a giant of a man. 'I do not wish to live like you, father!' Nedjo pointed at the coffee grinder in the serving area. 'A bean counter in every sense!' Nedjo stopped shouting, and with energetic dark eyes and an insolent smile, looked around the cafe.
'You talk to me like that, in my place of business!' The giant was beside himself with rage. For a moment, Johnny was home again, facing the full fury of his stepfather, after he'd been expelled from school.
'Why not? Will you get your friends in the police to lock me up again, or will I be expelled from Bosnia by your masters once more?' Nedjo was enjoying the stir he was causing, as he deliberately tried to provoke his father. 'I wish to live free from the taint of Austro-Hungarian capitalism.'
'Do you get these naive ideas from those peasant boys?' the giant said, pointing at Gavrilo and Johnny. 'Under the Monarchy we have security and modernisation.' He spoke as much to the people in the cafe as to his son.
'And illiteracy and the same feudal system that we had under the Turks, leaving our people no better than serfs.'
'Franz Ferdinand will reform things,' the giant said.
Nedjo shrugged. He was lost in the heat of the argument. 'Franz Ferdinand will not rule here. In a year's time we shall all be under Serbia.' Nedjo broke off, coughing.
Gavrilo smacked the table in rage, but managed a curt goodbye to Vukosava before leaving quietly. Johnny did one better and kissed her hand. He followed Gavrilo along Franz Josef Street as they headed towards the embankment.
'The fool will give the game away,' Gavrilo hissed.
Johnny knew that now was the time for him to exploit Gavrilo's anger and find out what was going on. 'Gavro, is it safe to have included someone so… I'm sure Nedjo is a great patriot, but…' Gavrilo shot him a hard look and Johnny let his sentence drift off. Nedjo was Gavrilo's friend and Johnny didn’t want to sound overly critical of him.
'Nedjo included himself in the plot. Well, Pusara included him - he sent Nedjo a clipping announcing the Heir’s visit, while we were still in Belgrade,' Gavrilo said.
'Does Nedjo know how you plan to destroy the Heir?' Johnny asked.
'You heard him in the cafe. Ned
jo can't keep a secret. I haven't even told him the weapons are in Sarajevo.'
Johnny looked longingly at the Hotel Europe, an elegant Austro-Hungarian building, as they continued down the street. If his own plans had worked out he'd have been sleeping there tonight, before going to find Libby in the morning.
'Franz Ferdinand will be staying in Ilidza. When he comes, would that not be the best place to act? Is that why Nedjo has been going there?' Johnny asked, hoping to get some idea of what Gavrilo was thinking.
'The tyrant will be too well guarded at his hotel,' Gavrilo said. 'Don't worry Jovo, we have the means. We will act.'
They rounded the corner at the covered bazaar. The domes and ancient stone work reminded Johnny of a picture he'd seen on a Christmas card and he said a silent prayer, as he speculated on how he could render the 'means' safe.
They continued to the end of Franz Josef Street, past Schiller’s delicatessen, on the corner where the street met the embankment. ‘Rum’ and ‘lager’ were emblazoned on the sign above the arched windows and further along there was a massive picture of a champagne bottle on the wall. Johnny hoped that they were going to cross over Lateiner Bridge, and visit the wine shop again. Gavrilo stopped and looked up and down the embankment.
'The only question is how and where we act, Jovo.'
'The attempt will be made when the Heir comes to Sarajevo?' Johnny asked, unsure how he was going to discover a plan that hadn't been made.
Gavrilo nodded confirmation. 'Once we know the programme of the tyrant's visit, we will make our plans and move quickly.'
There was a certainty in his voice that chilled Johnny; it was the voice of someone who intended to die in two weeks.
Chapter 24
'Do you want to abort, Apis?' Major Tankosic asked, as he took a seat in the Colonel's office. Apis looked at Tankosic. There was an innate guile in the Major that made him invaluable to the Head of Serbian Intelligence, as he walked the political tightrope in front of him.
They’d just returned from a meeting of the executive council of Unity or Death, where they’d been ordered to cancel the Sarajevo operation.
