Stattin Station (2009) by David Downing

Author:David Downing [Downing, David]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: David Downing
ISBN: 9781569476345
Publisher: Soho Press
Published: 2009-01-01T00:00:00+00:00

The Petschek Palace

Soon after eleven the train reached Dresden, where most of the passengers got off, and Russell was finally able to stretch his limbs on a very cold platform. Several carriages were detached from the rear of the train and, much to his astonishment, replaced by a Czech dining car. There were no meals on offer, but the range of alcoholic drinks seemed wider than that found in Berlin's better hotels. Russell treated himself to three glasses of slivovitz, and sat for the better part of an hour enjoying the views of moonlit mountains in the unscreened windows.

Finding a line of unoccupied seats to lie down on proved surprisingly easy, and he dozed off for a couple of hours. Woken at the Sudeten junction of Usti by the slamming of doors, he noticed that some but not all of the station signs bore the new German name of Aussig. A trip to the waterless toilet indicated that the train was now virtually empty - visas for Heydrich's Protectorate were either hard to come by or in low demand. He was almost asleep again when the train reached the essentially meaningless border, and officialdom required a long and overly suspicious perusal of his papers.

The next few hours were spent in that unsatisfying netherworld between sleep and wakefulness, and as light began filtering around the blackout screens he made his way back to the dining car, where the fields of the Protectorate were now visible. The counter was closed, but Russell could smell the coffee, and a short burst of abject begging persuaded the old Czech in charge to supply him with a cup. It was the best he had drunk for several months, and would prove the undisputed highlight of his trip to Prague.

The train pulled into Masaryk Station - now renamed Hiberner Station - almost two hours late. Russell was supposed to be returning that evening on the same train, but had decided to take a hotel room in any case - after his adventures in Prague two years earlier he had no desire to spend his day wandering the streets, where someone might recognise him. The same risk applied to the Europa Hotel, but any of the other establishments on the long and inappropriately-named Wenceslas Square should prove safe enough. He was just wondering what the new German name might be when he saw the two leather coats waiting at the ticket barrier.

He told himself they were waiting for someone else, but didn't really believe it.

'Herr Russell,' the shorter of the two stated.

There seemed no point in denying it. 'That's me.'

'Come this way please.'

Russell followed, conscious of the other man walking behind him, and of the scrutiny of their Czech audience. He felt an absurd inclination to start goose-stepping, but managed to restrain himself.

They walked through one office and into another. The latter was obviously home to the local transport police, but none were there. Perched on the edge of one desk, arms folded across his stomach, was Obersturmbannfuhrer Giminich of the Sicherheitsdienst.

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