The Assassins by Alan Bardos (best novels in english txt) 📗

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 smiled 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