[Josef Slonský Investigations 06] - Laid in Earth

by Graham Brack

  When the three cars arrived, Slonský directed them to park well away from Rezek’s car so that he would not be suspicious of their presence.

  Together the six detectives walked to a display board which showed the geography of the park.

  ‘Unfortunately I daren’t ring Hauzer in case Rezek hears the phone, but let’s assume he’s following the main path,’ said Slonský.

  There was a finger of flat land that cut into the forest leading south-west from the village. A path curved away to the right entering the forest after about three hundred metres and another path diverged from the main one to the left and entered the forest on that side.

  ‘There are so many ways out of the forest but in the end he has to come back to his car, so if we cover those three we should be able to trap him. Peiperová and Jerneková, you take the right hand path, Navrátil and Krob, you go left, and Dvorník and I will proceed up the centre. Remember that these men are dangerous. I want them alive if at all possible. If you have to shoot, shoot to disable rather than kill, but if push comes to shove I’d rather see one of them dead than one of you. All clear?’

  There were exclamations of assent and the pairs split up to do their work. Navrátil and Krob returned to the car to collect their weapons but Slonský and Dvorník walked straight on.

  ‘Shame I didn’t go home first,’ said Dvorník. ‘I’ve got the ideal rifle for this job there. It can take the eyebrows off a marmot at fifty metres.’

  ‘Well, if we’re threatened by an armed marmot I’ll bear that in mind,’ Slonský replied.

  They had progressed to the end of the flat section and were climbing slowly into the forest when they came across Hauzer, who was lying face down in some bracken. Slonský rolled him over and was delighted to see that he was breathing and conscious, if groggy, though the side of his head displayed signs of a blow from someone behind him.

  ‘It shows we’re on the right track,’ Slonský commented grimly.

  ‘He obviously wasn’t as discreet about his following as he thought,’ Dvorník replied. ‘He’ll be okay, but his head’s going to hurt. I’ll call for an ambulance.’

  ‘Okay,’ said Slonský. ‘I’ll keep going for a while and you can catch me up.’

  Slonský’s shoes may have been adequate for an office job, but they were not the best option for a hike on a mountain trail in the forest, and he slipped a couple of times on loose material as he climbed steadily upwards. He tried telephoning the other pairs as he went but his declining battery, and poor phone signal in the forest, meant that he was not able to reach them. This did not concern him too much, because he had learned to have confidence in his lieutenants.

  On a Monday morning in spring there were not many people about and none at all in the area where Rezek had headed. The sky was blue, there was a bright sun, and if it had not been for the breeze Slonský would have found it quite enjoyable. That, and the absence of food — and the exercise. Together they were making it a fairly miserable experience for a rather portly (Slonský would have preferred “well-built”) middle-aged man.

  On top of everything else, the birds in the trees were keeping up a spirited conversation with each other, making it difficult for him to think. Objectively, a few woodland creatures cannot make as much noise as the population of Prague, but urban sounds did not seem to disconcert him so much. He had grown up with those and was perfectly capable of snoozing through a convoy of lorries rattling his windows, but the sound of a starling was enough to prevent him getting any more sleep. Glancing up at the trees he detected a wide variety of different birds, but that was as far as his ornithological knowledge would stretch. Asked to describe the wildlife, he would have been reduced to “Bird, type 1”, “Bird, type 2” and so on. Had there been an owl around he might have done a little better.

  He was just wondering whether any of the fungi he was passing were edible when he heard a loud noise. The birds scattered, and it took a moment or two for Slonský to register that the loud noise was actually two loud noises, each made by some kind of gun. Still unable to obtain a telephone signal, but his senses now fully focussed on the task in hand, he jogged in the direction of it.

  The others had heard it too. Peiperová and Jerneková were furthest from it, but they briefly debated whether to cut through the trees on the most direct bearing or to stick to the path. Peiperová decided that they should keep to the path because they would move more quickly, they would be able to see around themselves better, and it was where Rezek and Kašpar were most likely to be. They followed the first path they found to their left and moved forward at pace, their guns drawn and ready for use.

  Navrátil and Krob had realised that they were likely to have been nearest to the source of the gunfire. Navrátil had suggested when they set off that they should separate by ten metres or so to make it harder for a gunman to shoot at them in quick succession, and this had enabled them to get a fairly good fix on the source of the noise. As they clambered upwards they came upon a small wooden shelter that had been constructed to allow walkers to take cover in the event of a storm. There was a sign on the door telling passers-by it was temporarily out of use, but Navrátil carefully opened the door. It was difficult to move because a sleeping bag and bedroll were pushed up against it, but eventually he forced it open, and found a man sitting against the rear wall. It was clear that this was the source of the shots because blood ran down the side of his face from a neat hole in his left temple. He was holding a gun in his right hand but it lay uselessly on the floor of the cabin.

  ‘It’s not Rezek, so I’m guessing it’s Kašpar,’ said Navrátil.

  Krob was crouching outside, keeping watch. ‘No chance it’s suicide, I suppose.’

  ‘Not unless he’s a contortionist. His gun’s in his right hand but he’s been shot in the left side of the head. I was sure I heard two bangs, though.’ Navrátil inspected the body more closely. ‘It’s been posed,’ he decided. ‘He’s been shot in the back under the left shoulder blade. He probably dropped to the floor and was then finished off with a shot to the head. His gun was put in his hand afterwards, I expect.’

  ‘He can’t be far away. Let’s leave Kašpar and get after him.’

  ‘We ought to phone this in. Are you getting a signal?’

  ‘No. How about you?’

  ‘No. I guess we’re not going to phone it in yet, then. Come on, same drill, ten metres apart whenever we can.’

  Krob was scanning the path ahead. ‘We’ll have to go front and back rather than side by side over the next part. He didn’t pass us going down, so let’s assume he’s planning to descend one of the other paths.’

  ‘I just hope he isn’t heading for the women,’ said Navrátil.

  Slonský had stepped off the path because he had spotted a rock that he could climb on get a better view. This meant that he would present an open target, but he was of the opinion that whoever had survived the duel must be on the upper path he could just see, and if they could pick him off at that distance they deserved a round of applause. The rock was an awkward shape, bulging in the middle but just a little too high for him to step on the outcrop to lever himself up, so he tried pulling himself up with his hands. It took a lot of effort, and he realised that it would have been a good idea to take his overcoat off when he left the car, but eventually he rolled onto the top and shaded his eyes with his hand to give him a better view.

  Ahead of him he could see the trees leading up to a hill. There must have been some soil erosion because the middle third of the hill was bare of both soil and trees, at least in patches, and then there was a ledge that ran around the hill like a shelf before the hill resumed its upward tilt. From where Slonský was perched he could see that the hill had the appearance of a cone from which large spoons had gouged rock from the sides and front, with the result that the section directly in front of him was concave, forming an arc with the centre furthest from him, and hairpin corners to his left and right, that to his left being sharper than the on
e to his right.

  Suddenly he saw movement in the bushes to the left and a small figure laboriously climbed up to the ledge and lifted himself up. Even at this distance, Slonský recognised Rezek, and dropped off the rock as quickly as he could to avoid being seen.

  Below him he could see Dvorník following his route up the slope and signalled to him where Rezek was. Dvorník nodded, having seen the old man resting briefly on the ledge, and obeyed Slonský’s instruction to head to the right to cut him off at the hairpin there. Slonský himself would cover the left hairpin.

  Rezek looked exhausted by his activity thus far, and was not making a move in either direction at present, which suggested to Slonský that he and Dvorník should be able to trap him in a pincer. He might still try to shoot it out, but it would be stupid. On the other hand, Slonský had known an awful lot of stupid criminals in his time, and not all that many smart ones.

  Navrátil and Krob had also gained the ledge path, Krob having suggested that if they ascended to it they might be looking down on Rezek amongst the greenery, so they were proceeding in single file, Navrátil in front, Krob ten metres behind and looking downwards whenever he could for any sign of their quarry.

  At one point he saw movement below him and dropped to one knee to present a smaller target and get a better aim, whistling softly to Navrátil as he did so, but once the branches parted they could see it was Slonský below them, making heavy weather of scrambling up the rocks, seemingly oblivious to their presence.

  They continued forward until they reached the bend in front of them. Navrátil rounded it carefully, his gun at shoulder height. He could see nobody in front of him and beckoned Krob forward.

  Navrátil took two more steps and found himself facing Rezek, who had stepped out from a small niche and pulled his trigger. The bullet smacked into Navrátil’s chest, followed by another a little lower, and he fell backwards on the path.

  And stayed there.

  Chapter 18

  After the shots, there was a profound silence. The women ran forward to the bend in front of them. They could see a figure on the ground, Rezek backing away with his gun raised, and another figure stooped over the casualty, protecting him from further harm with his own body while trying to determine if there was any hope for him. The stooping man rolled the fallen one onto his side and stood up, at which point they knew him to be Krob.

  Peiperová let out an anguished howl, redolent of pain and grief, and clasped her face in her hands, pulling them away in the forlorn hope that she had seen some kind of trick of the light. Unable to move, she crouched, shaking with sobbing, until Jerneková was able to pull her backwards by her shoulders and push her up against the rock around the corner.

  ‘Leave this to me,’ Jerneková told her. ‘I’ll get the bastard.’

  She moved forward, dropping as low as she could to present the smallest possible target. On the other side Krob was inching forward cautiously. At one point he fired a shot to discourage Rezek from stepping out from his niche again, but Krob remained patient, refusing to let the desire for immediate revenge make him reckless. However long it took, he was not going to let Rezek escape them now.

  Slonský had been too close to the hill face to see clearly what was happening on the ledge when the shots were fired, but now he had retreated to a better vantage point. He had seen Krob and Navrátil advancing, and had seen one of them fall, shot at not much more than twenty metres, but it was not until he recognised Krob inching forward that he realised it was his former trainee, his great hope, his surrogate son, who had been felled.

  Rare indeed had been the times in Slonský’s life when he had felt anything like the emotions that were now filling him. The loss of Navrátil left him empty; but he filled the space with rage.

  ‘Rezek!’ he bellowed. ‘Your sorry arse is mine. Dead or alive, you’re coming off this hill with me. That’s a promise.’

  Rezek answered with a couple of shots in Slonský’s general direction. Slonský had been shot once in his career already — an event that he was always at pains to point out involved a ricochet, in view of where the bullet had lodged in his backside — and knew that being hit by a bullet did not always hurt as much as you might expect. He therefore paused for a second or two to check himself over before resuming his drive towards the old man who now realised that he was trapped unless he could kill Krob or the two women, and since Krob was clearly prepared to take his time about flushing Rezek out, the General decided that the women were the likelier option and began to make his way round the ledge towards them.

  Jerneková remembered the order not to kill if possible, and fired at Rezek’s knee. It chipped the rock beside him, close enough for him to realise that she was a better shot than he had expected, but he knew he was a good one too, and he backed himself to bring her within lethal range before she could stop him.

  He reckoned without Dvorník, who had found a small soil-covered bank with a lateral tree branch on which he could steady his arm. As Rezek advanced with his gun drawn there was the crack of a shot and a bullet smacked into Rezek’s forearm, causing him to drop his gun. It lay about two metres below the ridge but before he had the chance to get to it Krob had sprinted forward and grabbed him by the injured arm. In a fever of activity he cranked his handcuffs open and attached them to Rezek’s right arm and his own left.

  The old man was not prepared to show any pain from his wound. ‘Go on,’ he said to Krob. ‘Finish me off. You know you want to.’

  ‘I want to,’ Krob agreed, ‘but I follow orders. You’re coming with me.’

  ‘Am I?’ said Rezek, ran two steps forward and jumped off the ledge. Too late, Krob realised his predicament. He just had time to drop his gun before his feet slipped over the edge.

  It was not a sheer fall, but a steep, rocky slope littered with bushes and tree stumps. It was around one of these that Krob managed to hook his free arm, so that Rezek was dangling in the air from his other arm. If he had wanted, Rezek could have planted his feet on the soil but he kept his knees drawn up so that his whole weight was pulling Krob downward.

  Slonský and Dvorník scampered sideways as fast as they could, each aiming to get underneath Rezek to take his weight before Krob’s shoulder gave way, but they were beaten to it by Jerneková. Racing along the ledge she jumped into a bush to break her fall, then scooped Rezek’s legs up with one arm. With her other she dipped into the pocket of her trousers to produce her handcuff key and deftly released Krob’s wrist.

  Rezek was still struggling to free his legs, but Jerneková’s eyes met his, and he fleetingly glimpsed her smile as she let go of his legs and let him drop.

  She pushed Krob upward so that he could get both arms on the stump then continued to force him up until she could get him safely on the ledge. It was clear that the episode had caused a good deal of damage to his shoulder, which hung limply at his side, and he was in considerable pain, but he gasped his thanks.

  She had gone, chasing after Peiperová who was running towards Navrátil’s body.

  ‘Wait!’ she yelled. ‘Kristýna! Wait!’

  But it was no good. Nothing was going to stop Peiperová running to embrace her fallen hero. She stumbled the last few metres, dropping to her knees and lifting his head so she could get an arm underneath it.

  This was clearly Rezek’s lucky day. Having been sent on his way by Jerneková, his downward progress had been arrested by Dvorník, whose bulk flopped on him with split-second timing. Since Slonský was wont to describe Dvorník as “large-framed”, this abrupt deceleration did Rezek no good at all, and he was struggling to breathe under the weight of a hundred and twenty kilos of detective lieutenant when Slonský arrived, himself rather breathless, and gave the injured man a kick in the ribs for starters.

  Dvorník was not moving until Rezek was secured, so Slonský fastened his own cuffs on Rezek’s arms before using Dvorník’s to pin Rezek’s ankles either side of a thorny bush, giving Rezek a little shove so that his crotch nestled ni
cely against its trunk.

  ‘If he moves, beat him ninety per cent dead,’ Slonský ordered Dvorník.

  ‘Let’s call it ninety-five,’ Dvorník replied.

  As Slonský ascended to the ledge he could see Krob had joined the women and was blocking his view, but Peiperová was kneeling over Navrátil while Jerneková wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Krob was gesturing back along the path and Slonský was surprised to see Jerneková suddenly break away and sprint as fast as she could away to his left.

  Finally Slonský gained the ledge and made all speed to join them. ‘Lass, I’m so, so sorry,’ he began.

  Peiperová turned to look at him, her blue eyes reddened with tears, her cheeks glistening with their trails. ‘He’s alive,’ she whispered

  ‘No, Kristýna, he was too close…’

  ‘He is, sir,’ Krob confirmed, and used his left arm to roll Navrátil onto his back. It was then that it registered with Slonský that both Krob and Navrátil were wearing bulletproof vests. The two bullets had ripped right into the vest but he could see very little blood around the holes. ‘He hit his head when he fell back,’ said Krob. ‘That’s why I turned him into the recovery position before I moved on.’

  ‘Right! Let’s get an ambulance for him double-quick.’

  ‘That’s where Lucie’s gone, sir,’ said Peiperová. ‘She’s a rough diamond, but she’s a gem, sir. In her own way.’

  Krob agreed. ‘She saved me. I couldn’t have held on much longer, sir.’

  ‘Get yourself down that hill, lad, and get that shoulder seen to.’

  Krob nodded. ‘I don’t mind admitting I could do with something for the pain.’

  ‘I’m not surprised. That looks nasty. I’d better see if we can find Kašpar, I suppose.’