Indicted by Tom Saric

Author:Tom Saric [Saric, Tom]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Severn River Publishing
Published: 2019-02-17T22:00:00+00:00

22

Zadar, Croatia

In old town Zadar, Luka stood in front of a canary yellow apartment building, his hand hovering over the buzzer panel. Open-air cafés lined the street, people sitting with espressos accompanied by cigarettes. Locals sauntered past him along the stone road. No one paid him a glance.

Behind the yellowed plastic window on the panel were listings for two urologists, an optometrist, a photographer, and a lawyer. There it was, sixth name down.

Z Marić- Glas

Finding Marić had taken little skill. After leaving Visovac, Luka took a bus to a nearby town and stopped at an Internet café. A simple search showed that Zlatko Marić was a man who liked to bask in the limelight. Each article that referred to him as an “anonymous blogger” inevitably included his name and photo: Marić smiling glibly in his modern apartment, Marić posing next to his laptop. Zlatko Marić, it seemed, was not so anonymous, and didn’t want to be.

His website, Glas, which translated to “Voice,” featured a series of articles showing evidence of backroom government deals, detailed analyses of the flow of government funds in Croatia, and photos of officials meeting with unsavory businessmen. He didn’t make accusations in the articles. Marić tiptoed the line between his ideals and self-preservation.

An article written in the newspaper Slobodna Dalmacija made the reasons for Marić’s reservation clear: a list of the names of all individuals who served in the Croatian War of Independence was published online. Anonymously. It listed over four hundred thousand names. The Croatian government shut the site down within three hours, and the hunt was on for the person responsible for sharing “state secrets.” The main suspect: Zlatko Marić.

Marić, according to the article, was promptly arrested and held for seventy-two hours by secret police at an undisclosed location. He was eventually released due to a lack of clear evidence of wrongdoing. When interviewed later, Marić categorically denied posting the registry or “ever” sharing any state secrets. He had received his warning. Afterwards, the tone of Marić’s articles had turned defensive, careful. Was he on a probation of sorts? Had paranoia sunk in for him too?

Luka’s hand moved past Marić’s name and instead pressed the next button down: Fotografia Toni.

“Izvoli,” said a man’s voice. Go ahead.

“Good day, sir,” Luka said. “I have a package for delivery.”

“Leave it in the box.”

Luka looked over at the row of apartment mailboxes hanging on the wall, each the width of a textbook. He pressed the button again.

“Da?” The man sounded irritated.

“I need a signature. It’s FedEx.” The man didn’t say anything, but Luka heard a sigh. He added, “And the package is too big for the box.”

The door buzzed and the man said, “2-D. I’ll meet you in the hallway.”

Luka pushed past the door and started up the stairs. As he came to the second-floor landing, he heard a door open. A cinnamon-tanned middle-aged man with salt-and-pepper hair came out, barefoot, tying the knot on his housecoat. Luka rounded the corner and started up the stairs to the third floor.

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