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

'That's not the arrangement. You haven't had the training and there aren’t enough for everyone.'

Nedjo bristled at Princip's words. It had been bad enough that he'd been excluded from the planning of the outrage but now it was apparent that Gavro thought him unworthy of a pistol. Nedjo had been the one who’d received the newspaper clipping informing them of the tyrant's visit; he'd asked Princip to join him in the assassination and now Princip would rather give a gun to someone he hadn't even met.

*

Breitner returned to the Hotel Bosnia and made his way to the Archduke's suite. He was planning to see Franz Ferdinand before the Heir attended low mass. According to the meticulously arranged schedule, mass would start at 9.00am, in the room which General Potiorek had had specially converted into a chapel for the purpose.

The letter of authorisation still held sway with the local police, who let him pass without any difficulty. The Archduke's regular security detail were slightly more resistant, but eventually deferred him to the Archduke's staff. Breitner found himself ushered into the atrium of the Archduke's suite and face to face with the Archduke’s Chamberlain once again.

'This is most irregular, Herr Breitner,' the Chamberlain said, moving to block the doorway into the main apartments of the suite.

'I have to see His Imperial and Royal Highness. It's a matter of the utmost urgency.'

'His Majesty is not available,' the Chamberlain replied.

'I must insist.'

'You don't insist…' The Chamberlain was indignant, but fell silent as the double doors behind him swung open and Franz Ferdinand came out, followed by Colonel von Merizzi and a small entourage. The Heir Apparent was dressed in a light blue jacket and black trousers with red side striping, which Breitner recognised as the ceremonial uniform of a cavalry general. The oriental décor of the suite shone behind the Archduke like a sultan's harem. Breitner wondered if the Nationalists who planned to kill the Archduke would have enjoyed the juxtaposition of the present Imperial ruler taking on the trappings of the last.

'I'm sorry to disturb Your Imperial and Royal Highness,' Breitner managed to get out, caught off guard by the Archduke's sudden appearance. The Order of the Golden Fleece hung around the Heir’s neck - his country's highest award. The design of the medal always reminded Breitner of a sheep caught in an eagle’s talons, which seemed particularly appropriate for his present circumstances.

The Archduke's hussar’s moustache twitched with irritation, as he appeared to remember Breitner. When Breitner had tried to engage General von Hotzendorf as an intermediary the previous evening, von Hotzendorf had citied the audience which he and Breitner had had with Franz Ferdinand, after the Redl debacle. The General claimed it was the most unpleasant thing he'd endured as Chief of the General Staff. It was without doubt the worst thing Breitner had been through; he could still remember the shock he felt when the Heir Apparent roared that they should have hanged Redl in front of the whole army, rather than let him take his own life.

'Breitner the Hungarian. So this is the rathole you ended up in,' the Archduke said, as he studied him. Franz Ferdinand’s eyes were light blue with an inner bright blue iris, giving the appearance of two sets of eyes looking out. Breitner had found this disconcerting the last time they'd met; it made him feel as if ‘The Ogre' was waiting to jump out at him from behind the shadows of the Archduke’s affable persona.

'Well, what is it?' The Archduke asked.

Breitner couldn't speak, hypnotized by those eyes, which amused the entourage. The Archduke's valet handed his master a gold chain - Breitner had evidently caught the Archduke as he finished dressing. He watched as the Archduke put the chain on. It had seven gold and platinum amulets attached to it, each containing religious icons and charms to protect Franz Ferdinand from evil. Breitner gathered himself and prepared to do his duty; the Heir would need something slightly more tangible to ward off the bad tidings that faced him in Sarajevo.

'I regret I must ask Your Highness to cancel today's visit to Sarajevo. I believe there will be an attempt on your life.'

'Do you indeed?' The Archduke looked around at his aides, none of whom gave Breitner's statement any credence. 'Do you have any proof of this, Herr Magyar?'

'No, Your Highness,' Breitner replied. He was still hoping that Johnny might turn up and tell him what the Young Bosnians were planning. He'd checked his office before leaving Sarajevo, but there hadn’t been any messages from Johnny or reports of a body matching his description being found. Breitner had left word for Johnny to be dispatched to Ilidza if he made an appearance at City Hall.

That was about all Breitner could hope for. The idiocy he was currently engaged in would only serve to cause him further discomfort and damage, but he knew he must try everything. ‘Your Highness, there are Bosnian extremists in Sarajevo, planning an attempt on your life.’

'Your Highness, if I may? This… person is nothing more than a scaremonger,' Colonel von Merizzi said, trying to prevent all of his hard work from being undone. 'He's hell-bent on ruining Your Highness’s visit with these tales of woe.'

'I see.' The Archduke smiled at Breitner. 'We are all constantly in danger of death. One must simply trust in God, Herr Magyar.'

'Your Highness, you must understand that this is the Serbs’ national day and your presence is a tremendous provocation…'

Before Breitner could finish, the Archduke's face contorted with rage as 'The Ogre' jumped out of the shadows. 'Enough! I have made my decision. You say yourself, you can't prove a thing. I won't be dictated to by a “pinchbeck” Magyar! This constant questioning is everything I detest in your people! If you dare to contradict me one more time then so help