A Second Death

by Graham Brack

  ‘At least the parents can think about closure now,’ she suggested.

  ‘Very like this kindergarten then,’ Slonský responded.

  ‘You seem unreasonably aggressive,’ she tried next. It took mere moments for her to realise that perhaps that was not the thing to say to a raging Slonský.

  ‘I am aggressive,’ he explained, ‘because I think it’s the job of a kindergarten director and her staff to ensure that the children in their care are returned safely to their parents. In the circumstances I don’t think that my aggression is unreasonable.’

  The Director had the grace to look rather sheepish.

  ‘Is this about that young girl who went missing some years ago?’

  ‘Why? Have you had any others you haven’t told us about?’

  ‘There was a full enquiry at the time,’ she protested, ‘and our procedures were declared acceptable.’

  ‘This would be the report conducted by the Head of Children’s Services for the District?’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Who happens to be your brother-in-law,’ said Slonský, using information provided by Velek.

  ‘That’s quite beside the point. He was the person whose responsibility it was to oversee our services.’

  ‘Well, he failed there, didn’t he? Peiperová, make a note that we may need to speak to him later. However, the deficiencies in the care of children are not our interest. We are much more concerned about the fact that you seriously misled the police at the time by giving the impression that Mrs Dlasková only noticed her child was missing at five o’clock.’

  The Director felt the need to interject. ‘I’m sure I gave an accurate account. The police simply jumped to the wrong conclusion, that’s all.’

  ‘Well, let’s examine what happened that day and you can give your testimony again, without any risk of misunderstanding. When did you become aware that Viktorie Dlasková had gone missing?’

  ‘I must protest! This is most unfair. I can’t be expected to recall these events at a moment’s notice.’

  ‘Oddly, that’s the way the police work. We tend to find that if we give witnesses notice of our questions their answers tend to be less useful than we are entitled to expect. So, I repeat, when did you become aware that she had gone missing?’

  ‘It must have been around a quarter past three. A group of mothers used to come around that time to collect their little ones.’

  ‘Who told you?’

  ‘I don’t remember. One of my staff.’

  ‘We understand it was a woman called Katja.’

  ‘Yes, that’s right. She was an assistant then.’

  ‘And what did Katja tell you?’

  ‘She said that Mrs Dlasková was complaining that her daughter had not been returned to her and Katja could not find her anywhere in her classroom or in the classroom behind which was used for the older children.’

  ‘I understand there are two classrooms in that building.’

  ‘Yes, the little ones go in the one nearer the door and the older children go through that to reach their room.’

  ‘So what did you do when Katja told you this?’

  ‘I immediately left my office to speak to Mrs Dlasková. The poor woman was extremely distressed and I gave immediate orders to search the buildings and grounds.’

  ‘Who did you have to carry out your orders?’

  ‘Each classroom has a teacher and an assistant at all times. Then there was me, the cook and the handyman.’

  ‘Seven of you?’

  ‘Yes. I asked the cook to check the kitchen and the dining area, and the handyman to search the grounds and the toilets. Then each teacher and her assistant looked round their own room, though, of course, they had also to mind the remaining children who were becoming aware that something was wrong.’

  ‘Did anyone find any clues?’

  ‘Katja produced Viktorie’s coat which was still on her hook, though her outdoor shoes were gone.’

  ‘Did she have gloves or a hat?’

  ‘It was a cold day so she must have come with gloves. Her coat had a hood attached so she did not need a hat.’

  ‘But she didn’t have her coat, so she would have been cold if she had gone outside?’

  ‘I assume so.’

  ‘Can the children open the doors themselves?’

  The Director looked uneasy. ‘Since then we’ve replaced the doors. You now need to hold two handles at once to open the doors, but then it was just one handle. But it was quite high up for a little one. I don’t think Viktorie could have reached it unless she stood on something.’

  ‘Could she have slipped out when the other children left?’

  ‘That was my first thought. When they are collected the drill is that one of the staff goes to fetch the coat and shoes of the child and dresses them to go home while the other walks them to the gate. That way one is always in the room with the children. No child leaves unless he or she is holding an adult’s hand, so a couple can leave at a time. I was worried that Viktorie had followed other children out when the door was open.’

  ‘But she had been coming to the nursery for a while. Surely she would have known where her mother would be and have headed straight for her if that were the case?’

  ‘You would expect so. When we couldn’t find Viktorie that seemed the likeliest explanation — she had run to the gate and her mother had missed her.’

  ‘A mother who never left the gate area?’

  ‘I know it sounds unlikely but excitable children can move very quickly. She might not have been noticed.’

  ‘The police report says there were no children’s footprints in the snow off the path, though of course there were plenty on the path to the gate.’

  The Director played nervously with a retractable ballpoint pen, flicking the button repeatedly to the great annoyance of Peiperová.

  ‘Did you come to work by car that day?’ asked Slonský.

  ‘Yes, as usual.’

  ‘Who else uses a car to get here?’

  ‘Then, nobody. Katja has a car now, but everybody else works within walking distance of home.’

  ‘I’ll need a complete list of all your staff then.’

  ‘We don’t keep records that far back.’

  Slonský stood up and bent over her as if addressing a particularly recalcitrant toddler. ‘Then perhaps you and your colleagues could put your heads together and recreate one. Today would be good. Peiperová can give you our fax number because I can never remember it.’

  ‘We’ll try.’

  ‘No, you’ll succeed. It would be very much in your best interests to do so. Is Katja around?’

  ‘She only works three days a week. Most of our staff are part-time. I can give you her home address if you like.’

  ‘Yes, I’d like that very much,’ smiled Slonský sweetly.

  Peiperová sat in the driver’s seat and waited for the coming storm. Slonský had suggested that she might like to start the engine while he “finished things off” with the Director, which she took to mean that some street Czech was going to be used which might be unsuitable for her delicate sensibilities.

  Finally the passenger door was flung open and Slonský threw his hat in the back seat as he climbed in. Peiperová decided to wait until she had instructions before starting the engine, partly because she was concerned about the colour of Slonský’s face and the force with which he was grinding his teeth.

  ‘Is everything all right, sir?’

  ‘No, Peiperová, as you well know everything is not all right. It’s very far from being all right.’ Slonský slammed his hand on the top of the dashboard. ‘If I do nothing else in this case, lass, I’m going to see to it that that woman is never allowed a position of responsibility again. By the time I finish with her she’ll be damn lucky if she gets a job hosing down a school bus.’

  ‘She seemed mainly concerned with defending her actions, sir.’

  ‘No, she wasn’t mainly concerned with that; she
was entirely concerned with that. I hope she goes to Viktorie’s funeral so I can drag her to the graveside and tell everyone it was her fault.’

  ‘She didn’t kill her, sir.’

  Slonský pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

  ‘No, she didn’t. But if she’d done her job Viktorie would have been here with her parents instead of getting herself killed a hundred kilometres away. Come on, Peiperová, let’s go and see what this Katja woman has to tell us.’

  The drive was quite short, but Slonský had recovered himself by the time they arrived outside a concrete block of flats. While the apartment blocks in much of the town were quite neat affairs with red tiled roofs, this row of blocks stood like children’s bricks. Graffiti disfigured the entry way and the space under the stairs smelled of urine. Slonský checked the address he had been given.

  ‘Third floor. Let’s take the elevator.’

  After a couple of minutes it became clear that the elevator was purely decorative and was going to take them nowhere, so the two detectives began to climb the stairs. Although Peiperová could have mounted them much faster, she felt that she should stay behind Slonský in case the unaccustomed effort proved too much for him. As it happened, the adrenaline released by the case, topped up by the interview with the Director, lifted Slonský to the third floor with relatively little effort, though he paused with his arm against the wall when they reached the door.

  ‘Shall I ring the bell, sir?’

  ‘Unless you can magic us inside some other way, that would be good,’ he wheezed.

  Katja proved to be a small, dark-haired woman with a neat figure. She wore a chunky wool sweater and jeans, and quickly invited them in when they produced their badges and identified themselves.

  ‘Come in and sit down,’ she insisted. ‘Sorry about the mess.’

  Slonský looked around for any sign of disorder but saw nothing. His own flat had not been this tidy since around fifteen minutes after he moved in, so he felt that the apology was unnecessary.

  ‘You might want to sit down,’ he began. ‘I’m afraid we’re here because we have some sad news.’

  Katja did as she was bidden, pulling a handkerchief from her sleeve as she did so in case it might be needed.

  ‘You’ll recall that seven years ago a little girl called Viktorie Dlasková was abducted from the kindergarten where you work.’

  Katja nodded.

  ‘I’m afraid we’ve found her body. This is now a murder enquiry.’

  Katja’s eyes opened wide and her hands jerked involuntarily towards her face.

  ‘She’s dead?’

  ‘I’m afraid so.’

  ‘And it’s definitely her. I mean, after all this time…’

  ‘She only died in the last few days,’ Slonský explained. ‘Perhaps a week or so.’

  ‘But I don’t understand. Where has she been for the last seven years?’

  ‘That’s what we need to establish, Mrs…’

  ‘Švandová. Katja Švandová.’

  ‘Well, Viktorie’s body was found outside Prague. But in the process of trying to solve that crime, we’ve become aware of some — lack of clarity, shall we say? — about the original abduction. And since you were there, I hoped you could answer some questions.’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I think we’ve established the timeline. Let’s start when Mrs Dlasková tells you that she hasn’t got Viktorie.’

  Katja closed her eyes and frowned in concentration. ‘I’d taken two children out, one on each hand. I think they were probably the fifth and sixth children I’d delivered. Mrs Dlasková asked if Viktorie was ready, so I said I’d bring her next. I went back into the classroom where Petra was putting their coats on.’

  ‘Petra?’

  ‘Petra Vesecká. She was the class teacher. I was just an assistant.’

  ‘Do you know where she is now?’

  ‘She gave up work soon after. I’ve lost touch with her, I’m afraid.’

  ‘Never mind. We can check national records. Please continue.’

  Katja paused as if internally repeating what she had already said. ‘I asked Petra if Viktorie was ready. She looked around the room and said she hadn’t seen her, but the girl wasn’t there. At Petra’s suggestion I went through to the back room to see if Viktorie had sneaked into the older children’s class, but she wasn’t there either. By the time I came back, Petra was holding Viktorie’s coat, a white one with a little hood.’

  ‘And it was a cold day.’

  ‘It had snowed earlier but there was only little bits of snow falling by that time. But if she had gone out without a coat she would have been freezing. That’s what I’ve always thought must have happened to her; she had somehow got outside without her coat and been overcome by the cold. And — I hate to say this — her body had been eaten by animals in the woods.’

  ‘No, she lived to be ten years old, but it involved a lot of abuse, I’m afraid.’

  Katja’s eyes filled with tears. ‘Oh, my God,’ she gasped. ‘How horrible!’

  ‘You see now why I’m so keen to find out exactly what happened. You didn’t hear a car leaving?’

  ‘There were a few cars leaving, because the other parents were going.’

  ‘But not one in the car park where the Director parked?’

  Katja looked at each of them in turn.

  ‘I don’t know! I didn’t think…’

  ‘No reason why you should,’ said Slonský gently. ‘Let’s carry on. So you had a coat but no girl. What did you do next?’

  ‘Petra stayed with the remaining children while I ran to fetch the Director.’

  ‘She was quite abrupt with you, I believe.’

  ‘She called me a silly girl and told me to stop panicking. But a toddler isn’t like a ring or a key. They’re not easy to lose. I was already convinced something terrible had happened.’

  ‘So you searched the rooms again?’

  ‘We were told that one of us had to mind the children while the other searched the room, then we should switch over and do it again. Meanwhile the cook and the handyman searched the grounds.’

  ‘Were there footprints in the snow that might have helped?’

  ‘The children had run everywhere during their playtime. It would have been hard to pick out any particular prints.’

  Slonský knew what she meant, but it was disappointing.

  ‘And they found no clues of any kind?’

  ‘Not a thing. By this time Mrs Dlasková was nearly hysterical. She was screaming at us to fetch the police.’

  ‘Was she still outside the gate?’

  ‘Yes. That was the rule.’

  ‘You might have thought it would have been relaxed in the circumstances.’

  ‘I don’t think anyone would have told her off if she had come in, but from there she could see along the paths and a bit of the main road. She could just about see that back car park too, or at least a part of it. We brought her inside and tried to calm her down but she said that if we didn’t call the police at once she would run round there herself. The city police station was about six hundred metres away. The Director rang the police and explained what had happened and they were there in about five minutes. We had to repeat the search with an officer, and then we had to give statements, but to be honest I was so shocked I don’t think I could remember anything very useful.’

  Slonský could be brutal with uncooperative witnesses, but he was certain that Katja was being as helpful as she could be, so he just picked up his hat and thanked her.

  ‘We may need to talk to you again, but you’ve been a big help,’ he assured her.

  As they walked back to the car Peiperová’s curiosity got the better of her.

  ‘Was that really any help, sir?’

  ‘Well, I think I know how it was done. And I think I know who took her. But apart from that, not much.’

  Peiperová held her tongue all the way back to the driver’s seat, but then felt compelle
d to ask a question. ‘So are you going to tell me what happened, sir?’

  Slonský chewed his lip for a moment before replying. ‘I wish we hadn’t asked for the file to be sent to Prague. If it was still here I could have settled my last doubts on the spot. As it is, I want to read that file before I say anything. But don’t fret; with luck it’ll be waiting for us when we get back. Especially if we stop on the way for a little something to keep body and soul together. Keep an eye open for somewhere we can get coffee and a pastry or two. I tell you what — I’ll treat you.’

  Chapter 6

  Back in Prague, Officer Krob tapped politely on the open door of Slonský’s office before walking in. Navrátil glanced up at the new arrival.

  ‘Sorry to intrude. I was looking for Captain Slonský.’

  ‘He’s out of the office, I’m afraid. Can I help?’

  Krob dipped into the inside pocket of his uniform. ‘I have to return this letter of acceptance.’

  Navrátil accepted the envelope. He had no idea what this was all about but he was, when all was said and done, a detective, so he decided to do some detecting.

  ‘Acceptance of what?’ he asked.

  ‘The job.’

  Seeing the expression on Navrátil’s face Krob realised that some further explanation might be needed.

  ‘The captain said he had a job going. I had the job offer in the post yesterday.’

  ‘I didn’t know there was a job going,’ Navrátil explained, ‘but he doesn’t tell me everything. Did he say who you would be replacing?’

  ‘I’m afraid not. I can’t start for another couple of weeks because the City Police are making me serve out my full term of notice, but I’m looking forward to it.’ He offered his hand. ‘Krob. Ivo Krob.’

  ‘Jan Navrátil. Well, I suppose we’ll be working together.’

  Krob was sufficiently sensitive to realise that the atmosphere was a little strained.

  ‘Yes. I suppose so. Well, better get back to work. Nice to meet you.’

  Navrátil watched Krob depart and wondered, not for the first time since he had joined Slonský, what on earth was going on.

  Colonel Urban had left his meeting and returned to his office to discover that his personal assistant was not around. The little yellow sticky note that Navrátil had left being markedly uninformative, largely because Navrátil did not know enough to make it otherwise, Urban picked up the phone and dialled Peiperová’s mobile phone. If she had been driving at the time she would not have picked up the call, but since Slonský had spotted a bakery with a queue, which he said was always a good sign, they were enjoying a refreshment stop so she was able to answer.