The Assassins

by Alan Bardos

  The Hofburg elite didn't seem to care whether or not Franz Ferdinand was killed in Sarajevo; he was universally disliked and considered to be something of an ogre. They probably believed that cancelling the Heir's visit would only have provoked his anger - a view Breitner could sympathise with.

  Breitner had heard through his old colleagues in the Intelligence Bureau that the warnings from the police, consular officials in Serbia and military intelligence which had been pouring into the Interior, Foreign and Military Ministries in Vienna had been ignored or lost in the massive bureaucratic muddle of the Austro-Hungarian Monarchy.

  There was a general distaste for information gathered through intelligence sources, not least because Austrian agents had inadvertently provided forged documents that had become the basis for two recent high profile trials. Breitner believed that the forgeries had been produced by Serbian Intelligence and passed on through a double agent, as part of an operation to stir up trouble and embarrass the Austro-Hungarian Government. The ensuing scandal undoubtedly caused Vienna to cripple intelligence gathering activities in the Balkans.

  The considered view of the Foreign Ministry was that the Serbian Government and its army were more concerned with fighting each other, than staging an operation against the Heir, regardless of what any extremist splinter groups might attempt. The Foreign Ministry had even asked for the colour coded ribbons that were put around the warnings to be changed from red to the standard yellow and black. The Ministry of the Interior argued that Bosnia was not within their area of responsibility. His own superior at the Joint Ministry of Finance, Count Bilinski, whose responsibility it certainly fell under, had washed his hands of the visit as a purely military matter.

  At the local level, Count Carlo Gallas, the Chief of the Bosnian Government's Political Department, had told General Potiorek of the growing militancy of the Young Bosnians' societies.

  Count Gallas had even drafted a report on the subject in the previous year, which Breitner had contributed to. Dr Gerde, the Chief of the Sarajevo Police, had tried to advise both Potiorek and the military committee about the incendiary nature of the Heir visiting on Serbia's Patron Saint's Day. All of these warnings were ignored.

  The person who created the biggest stir was Dr Sunaric, the Croat vice-president of the Bosnian Parliament, who'd urged Potiorek to cancel the Archduke's visit because of possible Young Bosnia activity. He'd even attempted to go over the Governor's head and telegraphed Count Bilinski directly, which caused a certain degree of indignation, but ultimately, like all of the other warnings, this had been dismissed as being the pessimism of doom and gloom merchants. Unlike other areas of the Empire, there had been no violence specifically attributed to nationalism in Bosnia.

  Some concessions had been made to security: all of Sarajevo's schools had been closed since the middle of June and any student who wasn't a resident of Sarajevo had been expelled. The border controls were also more strictly enforced and strangers coming into Sarajevo were to be monitored. However, Breitner knew that that hadn't stopped Gavrilo and his cell from crossing the border or organising their plot.

  The police were also allowed to face the crowd, rather than the Heir, during the visit, to scan for any potential assassins lurking in the shadows. That didn't change the fact that there were only one hundred and twenty gendarmes to provide security for a city of over fifty thousand people. Bringing in additional policeman from Budapest was deemed to be too expensive, as all of the budget had gone on building a chapel for the Royal couple in their hotel.

  There was talk of bringing additional police from the surrounding area but even so there was still a lot of ground to cover, unless of course Breitner could tell them exactly who the assassins were and where they were likely to be - which he couldn't do if Johnny didn't turn up. Breitner flipped open his pocket watch again.

  Chapter 31

  Johnny rhythmically turned his last crown over. He was loath to spend it, but he had to show that he wasn't a vagrant. A waiter was coming to his table for the third time, expecting to take his order. Johnny made a performance of looking embarrassed and eventually shrugging, he told the man that he was waiting for a girl, who was late, and that he didn't want to order until she arrived.

  The waiter wasn't particularly sympathetic, but went away. Johnny glanced through a gap in the café's picket fence. Ilic was still sitting in the garden, reading 'The Seven to be Hanged'.

  He'd finished his briefing next to the Mostar Cafe, which Johnny thought was curious. It would have made more sense to start at the café, where the first in line would be standing and then to work his way up along the route the Archduke would take. Ilic would then have finished his instructions nearer to the boarding house.

  When Ilic dismissed the cell, Johnny stayed back and discreetly followed him into the café and found a table, partly hidden by the cafe's picket fence. He was banking that Ilic would be meeting the third member of the cell, so that he could tell him where to stand for the attack on the Archduke.

  Although Johnny couldn't account for Ilic's eccentricities (he might just have been enjoying the sunshine), he had no choice other than to wait and watch him make notes in his book. Johnny put the coin back in his pocket and hoped the waiter would think he looked suitably desperate to be waiting for a girl - who would never turn up.

  *

  Breitner was eventually summoned by Lieutenant Colonel Erich von Merizzi, Governor Potiorek's aide-de-camp. 'I understand you wish to see His Excellency, the Governor.' Von Merizzi spoke without looking up from his work.

  'Yes, sir.' Breitner stood to attention and adopted a brisk, military tone.

  'You may not be aware of this, Breitner, but we are currently hosting the heir to the throne. The Governor is extremely busy attending to his needs.'

  'It is a matter of the utmost urgency, sir.'

  The Colonel slowly looked up from his desk, trying to understand how a junior bureaucrat could possibly have anything of interest to say to the Governor.

  'Oh come now - aren't you being a little over dramatic, Herr Breitner?'

  'It concerns his Imperial and Royal Highness, sir.'

  'You're the fellow who was friends with Redl?' Von Merizzi made it sound as if Breitner was guilty of all manner of corruption and treachery.

  'Colonel Redl was my superior in the Intelligence Bureau,' Breitner said flatly. Along with his fall from grace he'd come to accept that people would be suspicious of him. Breitner had worked closely with Redl for years and like everyone else in the Intelligence Bureau had had no idea that he spied for the Russians, or that he entertained young officers in a lavish boudoir.

  Breitner had resigned his commission in the army at the first hint of scandal, but the disgrace to the Kaisersrock, the Imperial uniform, would always be there. Nothing Breitner could do would wash the stain from that most revered symbol of Imperial honour and duty.

  'Don't you just fetch and carry for the Joint Ministry of Finance?' Von Merizzi was stunned that Breitner, of all people, had the gall to seek an interview with the Governor.

  'I believe the Governor is personally supervising every detail of the Archduke's visit, sir, including tonight's official dinner for the Heir Apparent at the Hotel Bosnia.'

  'That is correct.'

  'I've been approached by an intermediary from one of the dignitaries attending tonight's evening meal. He raised some concerns about the menu, which I urgently need to discuss with His Excellency.'

  'Good God man, what are you saying?' The Colonel was beside himself. Franz Ferdinand's visit was a make or break issue for any serious, career-minded officer.

  'It has been suggested that perhaps there should be a local delicacy on the menu, aside from the fish of course. It could be interpreted as an insult to the loyal subjects of Bosnia, if something produced locally wasn't offered to His Imperial and Royal Highness.'

  'I see.' Von Merizzi looked ruffled. 'This is appalling. Consolidating local support for the Monarchy is key to maintaining
a stable government in the province.'

  'Yes sir, after some not inconsiderable wrangling and negotiation I managed to reach a compromise on a local wine being served - a Zilavka.' Breitner paused. 'If I could have the Governor's approval for its addition to the wine list, and perhaps a letter of authorisation to ensure delivery, then the loyalty of our subject people can be assured. At dinner at least.'

  'Yes, quite,' von Merizzi said, ringing the bell for his orderly.

  *

  The waiter had given up trying to take Johnny's order and had started to smirk at him, which rankled Johnny more than the attempts to move him on. Princip had turned up, which had appeared promising for a while, until he and Ilic started to argue, no doubt about the assassination. They gave no indication that they would be doing anything other than arguing for the rest of the day.

  Johnny was on the verge of giving up and going to meet Breitner when a tall man sailed into the café's garden and greeted Ilic. The man looked a few years older than the other members of the group Johnny had met, which fitted in with what Ilic had told him about the third man.

  When Ilic finally left with the stranger, Johnny decided to chance it. He shrugged a goodbye to the waiter, before hurrying after Ilic and the tall man. He followed them up Cumurija Street, towards the centre of the city. He saw Ilic hand the man a metal object, the size of a half decent hip flask and mime how to use it. Johnny smiled; he’d found the last man.

  He continued to trail after them as they walked through the square in front of the Catholic Cathedral and watched as they proceeded to the Hotel Sarajevo. He waited a minute then followed them into the hotel, taking out his last carefully hoarded crown.

  *

  Breitner focused on the gold, floral decoration on the ceiling of General Potiorek's study. Even though he was standing, Breitner felt a little like Sigmund Freud giving a consultation. He looked down at General Potiorek, staring impatiently at him as he reclined on a green and red chaise lounge. The Governor's close cropped hair and neatly trimmed moustache added to the severity and dignity of his manner. General Potiorek was the very embodiment of the Austrian military, even in his shirt sleeves. Breitner had evidently disturbed him while he was resting.

  'It was very good of you to see me, Your Excellency.'

  'Yes, yes - what do you want?' The Governor regarded him coldly. He reminded Breitner of the commandant of his military academy. They both made him feel like an outsider, a Hungarian and a Jew, although he was never sure if either title fitted him. Breitner's parents had converted to Catholicism and fully assimilated into the Magyar way of life, going so far as to send their youngest son off to do his duty as an officer cadet.

  The only true identity Breitner had ever felt was that of a soldier. He loved the discipline and ritual of the army. When he joined the Intelligence Bureau of the General Staff, Breitner thought he'd found a place where he could actually belong. Under the guidance of Colonel Redl, a fellow outsider from the East of the Monarchy, Breitner learnt counterintelligence, the work he was born to do.

  After Redl was exposed as a spy and Breitner had been banished, the only thing he had left was his sense of duty. Duty was his life raft in an ever volatile and unpredictable world, even if that meant further sacrificing what was left of his career for 'The Ogre'. He wondered if maybe that's why he had an affinity with the strange Englishman. They were both looking for approval from men who would never give it.

  'Your Excellency, I must urge you to cancel tomorrow's Royal visit. I believe His Imperial and Royal Highness Archduke Franz Ferdinand would be in mortal danger if he comes to Sarajevo.'

  The Governor was speechless for a moment; the absurdity of Breitner's statement was beyond his comprehension. Breitner really did feel as if he was psychoanalysing Potiorek. The Governor had cut himself off so completely from what was happening outside the walls of his residence that he had no way of understanding the danger he faced, irrational or otherwise.

  'Herr Breitner, you are aware that the manoeuvres were shortened from four days to two? Not to mention that the scale of the Archducal visit was significantly reduced.'

  'Yes, Excellency.' Breitner knew the Governor had planned a much longer visit for the Archduke, complete with excursions and shooting parties.

  'There was even uncertainty about whether or not the Archduke would make the visit, up until the last minute. In spite of that, the manoeuvres were a tremendous success. The Archduke is extremely pleased and you want me to cancel the crowning glory of his visit?'

  'There's a clear threat to the Archduke, from...'

  Potiorek cut him off. 'You people see phantoms everywhere.' Governor Potiorek had given the same response to the local police when they'd tried to warn him of the possible dangers to the Heir. 'There has never been any significant political unrest here, Breitner.'

  'Your Excellency, an agent of mine has infiltrated a Young Bosnia cell, here in Sarajevo. If I could have a detachment of gendarmes I can arrest them now without any effect on the Royal visit.' Not an ideal solution, he reflected - he wouldn't get all of the conspirators, but it might be the best he could manage.

  'Breitner, you have no power to act in a military matter. Your involvement is neither desired nor needed.'

  This was precisely the situation Breitner had been trying to avoid. Without Johnny, all he had was hearsay and supposition. 'Excellency, these fanatics mean to commit a terrible outrage on the streets of your city.'

  'And do you have any evidence of that? Preferably something that isn't one of the forgeries you cloak and dagger people like to produce.'

  'My agent can provide details of the plan and the names of the conspirators - when he gets here.' Breitner snapped open his watch, trying to suppress his impotent rage.

  *

  Johnny slowed his pace as he approached the Europa Hotel. Its pavement cafe was teeming with people and he realised that it must be about tea time by now. He didn't have much time to order his thoughts. He looked through the mixed group of patrons in traditional and modern dress, enjoying Viennese cakes and coffee. Framed against the old covered market on the corner, it was like a view of two worlds merging into one. He was coming to the end of Franz Josef Street and it was just a matter of rounding the corner, crossing Lateiner Bridge and then a short stroll to the Governor's residence. He still wasn't sure how he was going to get the maximum amount of credit for all this, when he reported to the Governor.

  Johnny had successfully managed to get the name of the last man, Mehmed Mehmedbasic: with the right inducement a maid at the Hotel Sarajevo had been more than happy to help Johnny. He was now penniless on the streets of a foreign land, with one last chance to redeem himself.

  An elegant woman stepped out of the hotel in front of him without any thought of where she was going and started to raise a parasol. The graceful, fluid movement felt somehow familiar. Johnny glanced around as he passed her and found himself face to face with the girl he’d thought would never turn up.

  'Ah, there you are Johnny,' she said casually, as if he was just late for tea.

  Johnny was dumbfounded for a moment, as his two worlds collided. 'Libby, where have you been?'

  Libby stepped closer, covering Johnny with her parasol and bringing him into her realm. 'Where have I been? I've been scouring the streets of this frightful place for a week trying to find you.'

  'A week? I've been here for nearly a month!' She'd been fluttering about Vienna with her coffee house fops, while he'd been subjecting himself to all manner of danger and degradation, he thought irritably.

  'Well you know how it is, Johnny.' Her green eyes smiled whimsically and his antagonism faded.

  Johnny had to get away before she totally overwhelmed him. 'I'm sorry but I'm in a hurry. I'll come and find you at the spa tonight.'

  'I can't go back there. The hotel's been commandeered for that blasted Royal visit. I'm staying here now.' Libby waved vaguely at the Hotel Europa.

  'Well then, I'll come back here.' Johnny st
epped out from under her parasol.

  'Where do you think you're going? I can't believe you'd just abandon me now I've finally found you,' Libby said mockingly. She never needed anyone, least of all him.

  'I'm sorry Libby, it's vital I go now.' If he missed his chance with the Governor, Breitner would take all the glory and he'd never get out of here.

  'I trust you haven't forgotten that you owe my husband a considerable sum of money?' Her well-bred features became hard.

  'What can I do about that now? We're not exactly in Monte Carlo.'

  Libby gave him a patient look. 'Now that the manoeuvres have finished the local gambling dens are going to be awash with money as eager young officers throw away their pay, desperate for a few hours' amusement.'

  'Manoeuvres - what manoeuvres? I really have to go.'

  'The manoeuvres - the reason for the Archduke's visit.'

  Johnny wondered how Sir George would react if he knew that Johnny had put the heir to the Austro-Hungarian throne's life in danger to go off gambling with his wife. It wouldn't surprise him, in fact he would probably expect it. Johnny was determined to prove him wrong for once. He wouldn't let Libby distract him this time. 'I can't do all that now. I'll come and find you later.'

  'You promised to win the money back, Johnny and win it back you shall.'

  'Libby, I've got nothing.'

  'When has that ever stopped us?' Johnny felt the call of the wild. He could hear the ball spinning, feel the nausea as it dropped and the anguish of it landing in the wrong pocket.

  'I haven't had much luck recently, Libby.'

  'Don't worry about that. I'm sure we can turn things around.' Libby's green eyes sparkled. The first time he'd seen her at an embassy garden party, she'd been a force of nature, a maelstrom at the centre of everything, effortlessly bending servants and guests alike to her will.

  Johnny wondered if he'd told Breitner enough about the assassination plot to get the Royal visit cancelled. Breitner knew that there were people running around the city with guns and bombs; there wasn't much Johnny could add to that.