Passions of War (5 page)

‘Come on, quick!'

Tom climbed on to the barrel that remained in place, grabbed Ralph's hand and jumped. His free hand reached the wooden frame round the opening, and he felt splinters pierce the flesh. He hung for a moment, kicking his legs, then Ralph hauled him up till he lay like a stranded fish across the edge of the trapdoor. He scrambled to his feet and looked round. There were few people about, and he remembered that it was Sunday. Two women, on their way, he guessed, to early mass, looked curiously in their direction but no one seemed inclined to question them.

Ralph was peering into the cellar. ‘I don't see how we can fasten the trapdoor back in place, so anyone from the house would see at once that we had escaped. The best thing we can do is get away as quickly as we can and try to blend in with the crowd.'

‘Once we're on the train for Belgrade we should be safe enough, shouldn't we?' Tom asked.

‘Train? We can't just get on the train. For God's sake, Tom! There's an assassination about to take place, unless we can find a way to stop it.'

Tom choked back a protest. ‘All right. What do you suggest we do?'

‘Inform the authorities. We must have enough proof now to convince them to take action.'

As they headed for the centre of the city the streets grew more crowded. People were heading for the Appel Quay, the road along which the archduke's motorcade would pass. Ralph stopped one man and asked what time it was expected.

‘Soon after ten o'clock, if he keeps to the schedule,' was the reply.

Ralph looked at his watch. ‘It's nearly nine. There's still time. Either the whole procession must be abandoned, or at least he must go by a different route.'

They had to ask the way to the town hall, where the reception was due to take place, and when they reached it they found all access to the building barred by the police.

‘Listen to me!' Ralph said to the man barring their way. ‘I am the British military attaché in Belgrade. I have urgent information regarding the archduke's visit. I must speak to the mayor at once.'

The policeman looked him up and down and Tom was suddenly aware of the picture they must present, dirty and unshaven, their deliberately shabby clothes further rumpled and torn by their efforts in the cellar.

‘Do you have any identification, sir?' he asked.

Ralph put his hand to his pocket and swore. He had intentionally left behind anything that might identify him as a British soldier. ‘No, I don't, because I have been kidnapped and locked up in a cellar. All my papers were stolen. There is going to be an attempt on the archduke's life. I must speak to someone in authority.'

The policeman hesitated, then called to a colleague and the two conferred in undertones. From the glances cast in their direction Tom inferred that they were being cast as madmen or troublemakers, but after a moment the second man went off into the building and the first returned to them.

‘I've sent a message to the captain. You'll have to wait here until he's free to talk to you.'

‘But don't you understand?' Ralph expostulated. ‘It's a matter of the utmost urgency.'

‘So you say,' the policeman said stolidly. ‘But I've done everything I can do. It's against orders for me to let anyone into the building.'

Minutes passed and Ralph paced backwards and forwards, clenching and unclenching his fists. Tom kept watch on the crowd behind them, fearing at any moment to see Illic or one of his cronies. If their escape had been discovered he had no doubt that the conspirators would be looking for them, and this time they would not hesitate to shoot.

After a long wait a man in the uniform of a police captain came down the steps and Ralph repeated his story.

‘Kidnapped, you say?' the captain queried. ‘Have you reported this?'

‘No! There isn't time. The men who kidnapped us are planning to assassinate the archduke. You must get a message to him. He must stay away from Sarajevo.'

The captain frowned at him for a moment and then said, ‘You had better come with me.'

‘At last!' Ralph exclaimed.

His relief was short-lived. They were conducted to a small office and told to wait while the captain went in search of his superior officer. More time passed. Eventually two men arrived: one a colonel in the police and the other, in civilian clothes, who introduced himself as the mayor's secretary. Ralph embarked on his story again.

‘One moment,' the colonel interrupted, looking at Tom. ‘Who is this?'

Tom gave his name and explained that he was a friend of Ralph's from England, simply here on a visit. The colonel appeared to regard this with some suspicion and Tom could understand why. Ralph outlined the reasoning that had brought him to Sarajevo and described the events of the previous evening, adding the names and descriptions of the five conspirators. There followed a lengthy and ponderous inquisition and it became obvious that the colonel viewed everything they said with extreme scepticism. Tom saw that Ralph was struggling to remain calm but as the minutes ticked by he grew more and more frustrated. Finally, he jumped to his feet and thumped the desk where the colonel was sitting.

‘Do you not understand? There are men out there determined to murder the heir to the Austrian Empire, on the streets of your city. It could start a war. Do you want that on your conscience?'

The colonel looked at his watch. ‘The archduke will already be on his way. It is too late to stop him now. I assure you, all precautions have been taken for his safety but I will go and give orders for everyone to be on the alert.' He rose. ‘I will send someone to take down your statement regarding the kidnapping. Wait here, please.'

‘Wait!' Ralph stormed. ‘Wait! Is that all you can say?'

But the colonel and the secretary had already left the room.

Ralph turned to Tom. ‘Come on. There's no point in hanging about here.'

‘Will they let us leave?' Tom asked.

‘We'll soon find out,' Ralph replied.

The corridor outside was empty, although they could hear voices and footsteps from above, moving towards the front of the building.

‘This way,' Ralph said, heading in the opposite direction.

A few minutes later they emerged, unchallenged, from a service entrance at the rear. As they turned towards the main street Tom felt the ground under his feet shudder and heard the noise of an explosion from somewhere not far distant. Ralph stopped dead.

‘What was that?'

‘A bomb,' Tom replied. He had heard enough on the battlefields of Kosovo to be in no doubt. ‘I'm afraid we're too late.'

‘The bastards!' Ralph ground out. ‘That stupid, bloody colonel! They could have avoided this if only they had listened.'

‘You did your best,' Tom said. ‘There's nothing more we can do now.'

In the main street there was chaos. Some of the crowd, impelled by curiosity, were trying to hurry in the direction of the explosion; others, terrified, were attempting to run the opposite way. On the steps of the town hall, where the official reception party were waiting, there was much agitated waving of arms and running to and fro. Then, into this confusion, came the sound of engines and three motor cars appeared, driven at speed. In the first there were uniformed policemen, while the second contained high-ranking officers, to judge by the amount of medals and gold braid. The third car was a Graf and Stift cabriolet, its top folded back to reveal the moustachioed figure of the Archduke Franz Ferdinand with his wife at his side.

‘They missed!' Ralph exclaimed. ‘The incompetent idiots missed! Thank God!'

‘Who are the other two with them?' Tom asked.

‘The fat one is Potiorek, the Governor of Bosnia. I assume the other is an aide-de-camp.'

The three cars screeched to a halt at the foot of the steps and the archduke got out to be met by the mayor. Tom was too far away to hear what was said, but it was obvious from the archduke's demeanour that he was extremely angry – with reason, Tom reflected. The royal party and their entourage were conducted quickly into the town hall and the crowd on the pavement began to disperse.

‘What now?' Tom asked.

‘The archduke is entertained to lunch, there are the usual speeches and then he's due to open the state museum, but if they've got any sense they'll get him out of the city by the shortest route,' Ralph responded.

‘I meant, what next for us?' Tom said. ‘But do you mean there could be another attempt?'

‘There are at least five men involved in the conspiracy, to our knowledge,' Ralph pointed out. ‘I presume the entire Sarajevo police force is looking for them now, but if I was in charge I certainly wouldn't take any chances.'

‘Well, I don't see that there is anything more we can do,' Tom said. ‘Let's get back to Belgrade.'

‘The next train doesn't leave until this evening,' Ralph pointed out. ‘There's no point in sitting in the station for hours. Let's go and see what happened.'

They made their way through the crowd until they came to the road running beside the Miljacka River. Here there was a dense knot of people, but between their shoulders Tom saw a large crater in the road and beyond it another official car, its doors open, windscreen smashed and bonnet a twisted mass of blackened metal. On the far side of the road, by the river bank, three policemen held a bedraggled figure who was writhing in their grasp as if in agony.

‘It's Cabrinovic!' Ralph murmured in Tom's ear.

‘What happened?' Tom asked a man standing near him. ‘Did you see?'

‘That fellow threw a bomb at the archduke's car,' was the reply. ‘It bounced off the hood and landed in the road behind.'

‘What has happened to him?' Tom inquired, indicating the assassin. ‘Why is he all wet?'

His informant gave a harsh guffaw. ‘The fool swallowed something and jumped into the river. He obviously isn't a local or he'd have known it's only a few inches deep at that point. Some men dragged him out and gave him a good kicking before the police got to him.'

As they spoke a police motorcyclist forced his way through the crowd and circled the hole in the road to reach the damaged car. He dismounted and leaned into it, obviously searching for something, and finally straightened up with a sheaf of papers in his hand. As he passed Tom, heading back towards the town hall, Tom saw that they were wet with blood.

‘Clearly someone didn't escape unharmed,' he said. ‘What do you think those papers were? Documents of state?'

‘More likely the archduke's notes for his speech,' Ralph replied with a humourless laugh.

They watched Cabrinovic being taken away and then Ralph yawned suddenly. ‘Do you know, I am ravenous! We haven't eaten since last night. Let's find some food.'

‘I don't think we are in a fit state to go into a restaurant,' Tom said, indicating their filthy clothes.

‘True,' Ralph agreed. ‘Let's see if we can find somewhere we can buy a sandwich.'

They walked a little further along the river, until they came to the Latin Bridge. Ralph pointed across the road. ‘Look, there's a place – Schiller's delicatessen. We should be able to get something there.'

They bought sandwiches and sat at a small table in a corner to eat them. Tom felt himself grow drowsy after his broken night, but he could not relax. The image of Cabrinovic twisting and vomiting in his captors' grip alternated in his mind with the thought that Illic and the rest were still at large and might be looking for them. It must be assumed that their escape had been discovered by now. ‘What do you think Cabrinovic swallowed?' he asked Ralph.

His friend shrugged. ‘I'm not a medical man. I should have thought cyanide was the obvious thing, but that is supposed to work much faster – unless there was something wrong with it. I wouldn't put it past Tankovic to have supplied them with pills that had been kept so long they had lost their efficacy.'

‘He looked so young,' Tom said. ‘Just a boy, really.'

‘They all are,' Ralph agreed, ‘except for Illic. No wonder the whole plan has gone off at half cock, when you give bombs and guns to a lot of teenagers with hardly any training.'

‘Look, can we get away from here and find somewhere quiet?' Tom said. ‘My head is bursting.'

Ralph paid the bill and they were just getting up to leave when he grabbed Tom's arm. ‘Keep your head down! Princip has just come in.'

‘Where is he?'

‘Over at the counter, buying a sandwich.'

‘Is anyone else with him?'

‘No, he seems to be alone. This is our chance, Tom. We'll wait till he leaves the shop and then grab him. His testimony will be enough to put Tankovic and all the rest of the Black Hand in the dock.'

Tom had his back to the rest of the shop and Ralph picked up a newspaper and held it in front of his face, glancing over the top of it every few seconds. After a moment he said, ‘He's going. Come on.'

They rose and followed the slight figure out of the shop. He paused at the kerb, biting into his sandwich, and at that moment the official cars reappeared, heading out of the city. The two leading vehicles crossed the bridge, the Graf and Stift following, with the archduke and his wife and the governor; the aide-de-camp now standing protectively on the left-hand running board.

‘My God, that was close!' Ralph said, adding abruptly: ‘Now what? What the devil . . . ?'

The Graf and Stift was reversing, bringing it back to a point immediately opposite the delicatessen. Paralysed, as in a nightmare, Tom saw Princip drop his sandwich and reach into his pocket. Drawing his pistol he stepped forward, close to the right-hand side of the car and fired once. The archduke jerked backwards, blood spurting from his neck. Ralph was already plunging towards the assassin and as Princip raised the weapon again, aiming at the governor, he attempted to knock the gun out of his hand. The weapon went off and Sophie, the duchess, collapsed against her husband. Several passers-by leapt on Princip and wrestled him to the ground, but not before he had crammed something into his mouth. Meanwhile, the car accelerated away, heading back into the city.