Dennis Wheatley - Duke de Richleau 07 (51 page)

Weak from loss of blood,
exhausted by strain, and still feverish as he was, the Duke had sufficient wits
left to realize that he had landed himself in a fine mess. To tell the
truth—that he had uncovered the plot while working to that end as a secret
agent of the British Government—was out of the question: but somehow he had to
account for his knowledge of it. Taking refuge in his parlous state, he
declared that he had found the whole thing out by accident, then feigned a
return to his delirium.

The following day he had
been visited and questioned by General Potiorek and the Sarajevo Chief of
Police, but they had got little more out of him. He said that on leaving Vienna
he had gone down to Constantinople on business, and that having completed it he
had decided to break his return journey for a few days in Belgrade. There, in a
night-haunt called
Le Can-Can,
he had learned of the plot, and at once taken such steps as he could to thwart
it. Then, to give himself further time to think matters out, he had insisted
that talking tired him too much for him to say any more at the moment. Next
morning he had been transferred from his bed to a stretcher and spent most of
the day travelling to Vienna.

As he lay, in a bed that
seemed absurdly small for the fine square room, and gazed at the tree-tops of
the park out of the broad bay-window, for the fiftieth time he reviewed his
difficult situation. Somehow he had to give a satisfactory explanation of not
only how he had obtained foreknowledge of the plot, but of the bullet—since
extracted —which had been in his shoulder on his first arrival at the hospital
in Sarajevo; and why he had, apparently, sent no warning of the plot to Vienna,
or attempted to go there, but, instead, relied entirely on his own ability to
make the frightful cross-country journey to the Bosnian capital in time to stop
the outrage.

On the previous day he
had seen no alternative but to admit that he had learned of the plot in
Belgrade; and he now doubted his ability to persuade the Austrians that it had
not been hatched there. If he substantiated that, it would cut the ground from
under the Serbians’ feet. They were counting on gaining the sympathy of Europe
for the Bosnian Serbs in connection with such repressive measures as the
Austrians might take against them as a result of the assassination. But if it
became known that members of the Serbian General Staff had plotted the murders,
Serbia would get no sympathy from anybody. On the other hand, if the Austrians
were given the true story bout the Black Hand they might make demands for
reparation from Serbia that she would refuse; in which case the outcome would
still be war.

It was a horrible
dilemma, and to his great distress De Richleau realized that he was in the
unhappy position of a man who knew too much. Whichever course he took now might
tip the scales and result in helping to ferment a lesser or greater war. But on
three counts he finally decided that he would refrain from attempting to shield
the Serbs.

Firstly, he had been in
the State prison in Belgrade on Friday night and Tankosić and Ciganović
had taken him from it. Therefore, the Serbian police could hardly fail to
associate their deaths and that of their Chief with him. The Serbian secret
service would almost certainly have learned and reported his activities on
arriving in Sarajevo, so it would be known that he was in Austria. Therefore,
although it seemed unlikely, it was, nevertheless, possible that the Serbian
government would demand his extradition to face a charge of murder. If they
did, his only protection would lie in having told the Austrians at least a part
of the truth about the killings.

Secondly, given that the
chances of war resulting from the assassinations were more or less even
whatever he said, justice demanded that the Serbians should not escape
responsibility for the initial cause that led to it.

Thirdly, the odium
attaching to this foul deed should go a long way to deprive Serbia of the
support of Russia and the great democracies, thus rendering it much less likely
that they would take up the cudgels on her behalf and a general war result.

On Wednesday morning a
small committee of the highest importance came to see him. It consisted of the
Foreign Minister, Count von Berchtold, his right-hand man, Count Hoyos, the
Emperor’s aged aide-de-camp, Count Paar, General Conrad von Hötzendorf, Count
Harrach and General Urbanski von Ostromiecz, the Director of the Imperial
Secret Service.

Evidently the meagre
report received from General Potiorek had already given them the impression
that De Richleau was reluctant to tell all he knew: so to encourage him to
speak frankly they opened the proceedings by disclosing what they had so far
found out for themselves.

The examination of the
two assassins, and other inquiries, had elicited the information that on the
fatal Sunday there had been at least seven young fanatics in Sarajevo, all
armed and all prepared to make an attempt on the Archduke’s life. All except
one were of Serbian blood and had been living in Belgrade for some time. They
had recently re-crossed the frontier in secret and the weapons they carried
bore the marks of the Serbian State Arsenal. It was, therefore, clear beyond
dispute that the murders were not nihilistic in character, but had been
deliberately planned and stage-managed by Belgrade. The existence of the Black
Hand had long been known to the Austrian Government, and they had no doubt that
responsibility for the crime lay with it.

Further, De Richleau’s
visitors admitted that numerous warnings had been received, including one from
a Serbian diplomat to a minor official in the Austrian Foreign Office. But all
of them had been so obscure or seemingly ill-founded that no steps had been
taken about them. On the other hand, the Duke’s telegram from Visegrad had been
so positive and categorical that he must obviously have been aware of the true
facts.

Count Berchtold, who had
so far done most of the talking, looked down his long, sharp nose and added, “I
need hardly stress the immense importance we attach to getting to the bottom of
this terrible matter; and it is for that reason my friends and myself have come
to request you to give us a personal account of the events which led up to your
sending that telegram.”

“I am only too willing to
aid you in any way I can, Count,” replied De Richleau amiably. “This, then, is
the bald outline of the most unpleasant adventure into which I was quite
unexpectedly precipitated owing to my having paid a short visit to Belgrade. On
Friday night I went to a night-haunt there called
Le Can-Can.
The male patrons of the place were
mostly young officers, and a party of them invited me to join their table. The
liquor was flowing freely and as the hour advanced we all got a little drunk.
They then began to toast an event that was to take place on Sunday, which would
lead to war with Austria. Through my mother I am half Russian, and I was making
myself understood by them in that language, so they undoubtedly took me for
one. Naturally I was much alarmed, so to lead them on I pretended hatred of
Austria myself. One youngster, drunker than the rest, then gave away the plot
in a single sentence before his companions had time to stop him. I could see
that a middle-aged Colonel who had joined us was much annoyed, but I gave a
drunken grin as though I had not fully taken in the sense of what the young man
had said. Some of the officers, including the Colonel, left shortly afterwards,
but the party continued for another hour. I did not dare to leave before them,
but avoided drinking any more, and had determined at once that as soon as I
could get away I would take the first train for Vienna.”

“But no sooner did I get outside
in the dark street than I was set upon,
bundled into a big
car,
and had
a pistol
pushed
into my ribs.
Three
of
the officers who had attacked me,
one of
who was the
Colonel, took me in the car some miles
out of
Belgrade to a ch
âle
t
in
the
forest. There,” the Duke
repressed a cynical smile, “I found myself in the unenviable position of ‘the
man
who
knew too much’. They
informed me that they meant to keep me a prisoner in the cellar, and would have
to do so for an unspecified period; or at least until their vile plot had
brought about the opening of hostilities against Austria that they desired.”

“I saw at once that the
only chance of saving the situation lay in gambling my life in an attempt to
escape. Fortunately they had not searched me, and I was carrying a loaded
pistol in my hip pocket. As they led me to the cellar, I rounded on them and
drew it. Having taken them by surprise gave me an initial advantage. A
frightful melee ensued. I was shot in the shoulder, but I succeeded in leaving
all three of them either dead or severely wounded, and getting away.”

“The car in which they
had brought me there was still outside, and it was a Rolls. I jumped into it
and drove off. While I was at the châlet I had seen no servants, but I feared
that the sound of the shots would bring them on the scene at any moment, and
the police would soon be warned to hold me up. So I did not dare to drive back
through Belgrade and attempt to cross the frontier into Hungary. Neither could
I send any warning by telegraph or telephone as long as I was in Serbia. I
decided that my best chance lay in heading across country for Sarajevo.”

“With luck I should have
got there late on Saturday night, but unfortunately I twice lost my way; and
the second time I was benighted in the mountains near the frontier. As soon as
I got to Visegrad, on Sunday morning, I sent the telegram of which you know,
and I reached Sarajevo myself at two-thirty in the afternoon. That is the whole
story.”

As De Richleau ceased,
his little group of visitors looked at him in unfeigned admiration, and von
Hötzendorf grunted: “To have taken on three of those swine single-handed, and
afterward made such a journey, although wounded, was a magnificent piece of
work. I’ve never heard of one that better deserved a decoration.”

Old Count Paar nodded. “When
I inform the Emperor of your gallantry in the service of the Monarchy, I feel
confident that His Imperial Majesty will wish to confer one on you.”

“Your account confirms
everything we already know,” said Count Berchtold. “I now feel that we are
amply justified in taking immediate steps against Serbia.”

Von Hötzendorf turned
swiftly to him. “I have already told you, Count, that I need sixteen days for
mobilization.”

“Surely, gentlemen,” protested
the Duke, “terrible as this crime is, you will not allow it to lead to war.”

“No, no!” Count Paar
shook his white head. “There is no question of war. But we must have
satisfaction. The whole nation is seething with righteous indignation. We
cannot permit the vile act to go unpunished.”

“I agree.” Count
Berchtold gave the old man a sideways glance. “The insolence of the Serbs has
long needed humbling, and this is our opportunity. But it should not be
necessary to resort to war.”

“I tell you it is futile
to make threats unless they can be backed by force.” declared the General.

“We have force enough for
our purpose while the Army remains on a peace-time footing. It should not be
difficult to seize some Serbian town or district, and declare our intentions of
holding it until the Serbian Government surrenders the officers concerned in
the conspiracy, and agrees to such other demands as we may make.”

“And what if the Serbians
attacked such a force?” cried von Hötzendorf, almost hopping with rage. “At the
moment Potiorek has only 25,000 troops under him, and they are scattered all
over Bosnia. Once we are mobilized he will have 80,000 infantry, which makes a
very different picture. It would be positive madness to start anything until we
are properly prepared.”

Count Hoyos came to his
Chief’s rescue. “But, General, surely you realize the danger in allowing the
sixteen days you require for mobilization to elapse before we act. All sorts of
diplomatic complications may arise. As matters stand we are fully justified in
seizing guarantees that will ensure Serbia punishing these criminals. If the
Great Powers are presented with a
fait accompli
they will admire our resolution; but if we wait they may believe us too weak to
protect our honour. That would discourage Germany from giving us her backing,
and encourage Russia to threaten intervention if we belatedly show signs of
taking up the Serbian challenge.”