This Drakotny_A Gripping Spy Thriller by Philip McCutchan

Author:Philip McCutchan [McCutchan, Philip]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Endeavour Media
Published: 2018-01-24T22:00:00+00:00

8

The snow started again, falling softly, gently on the spreadeagled bodies. The big flakes drifted through the air, slanting across the headlight beams still blazing from Vorsak’s car. Beside me, Heilersetz was cursing beneath his breath, cursing Vorsak but doing it in a hiss as though he, like I, had been struck by the curious solemnity of that bitter evening, and the sudden dead, and the drifting, falling snowflakes.

Then we heard a man sobbing and we moved forward, Heilersetz and I and the old servant. We found Krajcin’s fur hat, then we found Krajcin, cowering in the lee of the snow-plough. I reached towards him and took his arm, and drew him to his feet. He was crying like a baby, with his face all crumpled, and he could hardly stand upright.

Heilersetz, looking over my shoulder, was full of contempt. “Is this the man Krajcin?” he asked.

“Yes.”

“You wanted me to meet — that?”

“I still do,” I said. “General Heilersetz, you’re a soldier. Gunfire and death doesn’t hit the university life all that often.”

Heilersetz swung away with a sharp movement of distaste for universities, making towards where Vaclav Vorsak’s body lay. He stirred at it with the prong of his shooting-stick, his face set like a vice. He spat. Then he came back to where I was still trying to keep Krajcin on his feet.

“What happened?” the General barked at Krajcin.

Krajcin wept.

Heilersetz lifted his arms and in a strangled voice said, “Get him inside, and quickly. Frumm!”

“Sir!” This was the manservant who had used the submachine-gun and was clutching it still.

“Give the Commander a hand, Frumm.”

Frumm did as he’d been told, and I too found myself obeying the General’s orders. Frumm and I half carried the weeping Krajcin towards the castle entrance, while Heilersetz remained behind to examine the bodies of the Security Police, and the two cars. I left Krajcin in the porch with Frumm, who certainly wouldn’t let him get away, and ran back through the snow to Heilersetz. I sensed that up to a point the old man was enjoying himself: he had smelt powder again, and seen action and death. It was a better thing than waiting around and doing nothing. Nevertheless, he was in a bad temper. Vorsak had let him down, Vorsak had fooled him.

“You’re very sure of that,” I said.

He glared. “Of course! You were quite right and I admit it now. Was he not friendly with the Security Policeman?”

“Haven’t you been sometimes — or appeared to be?”

“This was quite different — there was obviously genuine friendliness, comradeliness, and the whole circumstance was of treachery!”

“Okay,” I said. “I won’t disagree — I never did believe Vorsak was on your side, myself. What now, General?”

“There is much to do, very much to do.” Heilersetz had a strong note in his voice now, the man of action responding to the call. His hand made a slapping motion against his side, as though he was flicking his thigh with a once-familiar riding-switch. “My man’s gone, I see — not Frumm — the driver of the snow-plough.

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