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

in the early morning sunshine. He wondered if he had enough money to buy something that would help him get through the day. It was going to be a long one, by the sound of it. He checked his pockets but there was barely enough to buy a box of matches.

'Would you like some matches, Gavro?' Johnny asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Gavrilo gave him a disgusted look. 'If I could afford a box of matches I would set Sarajevo on fire.'

'That's one way of getting out of going to work, I suppose.'

Gavrilo ignored Johnny and they continued on to a large, elegant building next to the tobacconist's. It had a statue on the roof, of what Johnny took to be Athena, the goddess of poetry and knowledge, sitting on a chair dispensing wisdom to Serb children. It was very different to the Imperial depiction he'd seen of the goddess outside the Austrian Parliament building. He was briefly reminded of the cab ride with Libby down the Ringstrasse and the promise he’d made her.

'How is it that you have never heard of Prosvjeta before?' Gavrilo asked, studying Johnny curiously, as they entered the building. 'You said you received a scholarship to study.'

'The church was of some assistance,' Johnny replied, then shrugged, embarrassed, and started to climb the stairs to their office. He had no idea which organisations provided Serbian students with scholarships. The scholarship he'd won had come from the school and the church council. Prosvjeta or 'Enlightenment', as he'd recently learnt, was a cultural society for the development of Serbs through education and gave support to poor but gifted students. They'd helped among others, Gavrilo and Bogdan Zerajic.

Gavrilo and Johnny reached their desks and settled down for a day at work. Gavrilo had managed to find himself and Johnny jobs at Prosvjeta through its Secretary General, who paid them fifteen crowns each to copy out minutes of meetings, which Johnny told Gavrilo would be enough to pay off his debts.

Johnny had done very little else to further his cause in the last week before the Archduke’s visit to Sarajevo. It was Thursday and he had been well and truly seduced back into the monotony of meaningless work. He was starting to wonder if he should stop gambling and womanising, and accept that he'd be perfectly happy spending the rest of his life engaged in simple clerical tasks.

The stark reality was that he couldn't have hacked it, even if he'd wanted to. He kept making mistakes. The chief administrator had already questioned his work several times. If one thing was for sure, Johnny would have to find some way of making this agreement with Breitner work, as he couldn't go back to the way his life was before.

'This work is of the highest importance, Jovo. Prosvjeta gave me a chance - we must do the same for the next generation,' Gavrilo said, seeing how bored Johnny was.

'You value education more than the great work we are doing for our people?' Johnny asked.

'Education has always been important to me. I was a very earnest child - I hardly played with the other children in my village. Even before I went to school I'd follow our cows and make believe I was going to school, with a bag full of books. My father wanted me to be a shepherd, but my mother took my part and I went to school eventually, when I was nine.'

Johnny looked at Gavrilo's small hands and slight frame, and wondered if he would have survived the harsh conditions of a peasant farmer. 'You were lucky that your father supported you as far as high school.'

Gavrilo shrugged. 'It wasn't easy. The peasants are crippled with taxes and rents, but my brother saw the potential of my education as a means of social advancement, rather than its true purpose of enlightening the people. When he was no longer willing to support me I managed to get a small stipend from Prosvjeta.'

Johnny smiled sympathetically. He was starting to feel comfortable in his role as an informant. He’d gradually begun to win Gavrilo's confidence and he was opening up to him. Out of the corner of his eye, Johnny suddenly caught sight of a blurred vision of loveliness and he got up instantly.

He'd have recognised that nimble figure anywhere, even restricted by layers of whalebone. It was the belly dancer he'd seen with Breitner, gliding effortlessly through his office on the arm of a rich old industrialist. If Johnny had believed in such things, he'd have said he was in love.

The man she was with went into the chief administrator's office without knocking, leaving her outside and unguarded. Johnny didn't miss a beat. 'Good afternoon, Miss...?' Johnny left the last part of the sentence hanging, hoping that she'd fill in the gap, but she just arched her eyebrow questioningly.

'Good afternoon, Mr...?' she replied, leaving the last part of her sentence to hang too. Johnny choked - even if he could have remembered what his name was, he'd never have been able to say it. She was truly beguiling.

'Didn't we meet the other night?' he managed to ask.

Her amber eyes flashed the same mocking look that she’d given him in the park and the cafe. She recognised him, there was no doubt about it. Johnny couldn't believe he hadn't followed her through the side door in the cafe.

'I'm sorry I wasn't able to join you, but I had a rather pressing matter to attend to.' Whatever it was, Johnny couldn't remember now.

'We have met.' Her eyes were willing him to say where.

'In a cafe - you were performing. Although that wasn’t the first time we’d met…’

'Sir, you seem to have mistaken me. I've never seen you before.' She smiled, making Johnny feel dizzy.

'Just what the hell's going on here?' A harsh voice brought him back to the