The Assassins by Alan Bardos (read novel full .TXT) 📕

maiden aunt to beg for money.' Breitner gave him a few coins - any more would obviously have aroused suspicion.

The Cabrinovics’ cafe seemed pretty shabby compared to the wonders that Johnny had just witnessed and come so close to experiencing at his previous port of call. The sound of shouting in some far off backroom did nothing to lift the gloom of the place. He couldn’t believe Breitner had cast him out of paradise to come here.

However, Johnny soon forgot his woes when he saw a striking girl sitting in a far corner. She was about seventeen, her face an attractive blend of strength and sensitivity. Everything about her radiated a bright, vibrant nature. To Johnny's surprise, she was talking to Gavrilo. He knew this was too good an opportunity to miss.

'Hello there,' Johnny called as he headed towards them. Gavrilo turned around and scowled at him. 'Please, introduce me to your friend, Gavro.'

'Jovo, this is Miss Vukosava Cabrinovic,' Gavrilo said grudgingly.

'Good evening, Miss Cabrinovic. Pleased to meet you,' Johnny said.

Vukosava looked up at him, her eyes smiling even before she greeted him. 'Good evening. Please join us.'

Johnny ignored Gavrilo's withering looks and pulled up a chair at the end of their table.

'Cabrinovic - are you a relation of Nedjo Cabrinovic?' Johnny asked.

'Nedjo is my elder brother,' Vukosava said. 'How do you know him?'

'Hasn't everyone heard of Nedjo Cabrinovic?' Johnny answered, for want of anything sensible to say.

Gavrilo frowned. 'Jovo has heard Nedjo talk of the great deeds he will perform for our people.'

'Nedjo is your friend and comrade, Gavrilo,' Vukosava cut in, before Gavrilo could say anything further about her brother.

'We have a common cause,' Gavrilo agreed.

'Nedjo used to bring Gavro home. He was a poor half-starved wretch and we'd feed him.' Vukosava grinned at the memory.

'Even with nine children to feed, they always had a place for me,' Gavrilo said.

'Do you remember, Gavro, when you caught me reading, "The Secrets of the Istanbul Palace"? You were so annoyed that you took it away and made me read Uskokovic and Oscar Wilde.' She made a mock sad face. Gavrilo beamed - the poor peasant boy was definitely sweet on this smart, city girl.

'Someone had to take charge of your moral well being, Vukosava,' Gavrilo said, making her laugh.

'What would my father say if he heard you talk like that?' She chided him gently and ruffled his hair. Gavrilo blushed, embarrassed. Johnny wondered if Gavrilo had decided not to deny himself love in the name of his cause after all; Johnny would certainly have forgotten about everything he believed in for a girl like her.

'Will Nedjo be joining us? Johnny asked. He hadn’t completely forgotten his own cause and it was time he got on with it.

Vukosava inclined her head towards the shouting. 'Nedjo is talking with my father.'

'Oh I see, sorry.' Johnny quickly changed the subject. 'Your father owns this cafe?'

'That's right, Jovo,' Vukosava replied.

'A self-made man?' Johnny asked.

'He certainly understands the value of thrift and hard work.'

'You and your brother must have learnt a lot about the practicalities of life from such a man,' Johnny said gently, trying to steer the conversation back to Nedjo.

The shouting in the backroom started to get nearer and Vukosava smiled, embarrassed. 'Vaso Cabrinovic is a very practical man. When I was at school I had to read a poem in a pageant. I longed for a new dress and shoes to wear for the occasion, but I knew my father would never buy me them without good reason, so I told him that if I didn't have a new dress and shoes we would be shamed in front of our neighbours.

He saw my point, but instead of the pretty dress I dreamed of he brought me the most hideous thing you can imagine, made from the strongest material he could find. It was several sizes too big for me so that it would last for years and I had a new pair of boots to go with it.'

'Do you and your brother follow in his footsteps?' Johnny asked.

'No, Nedjo is a dreamer. He doesn't follow my father's lead in anything, as you can hear. I, on the other hand, well, I'm studying to be a dentist.'

'A dentist?' Johnny was genuinely surprised.

'She likes to inflict pain,' Gavrilo said sarcastically. He was tired of being ignored. 'My brother is cut from the same cloth as Vaso Cabrinovic. He thinks more of making money than freeing his people from oppression.'

'Maybe he feels they can free themselves by following his example and exploiting the opportunities the Monarchy has given us, rather than pursuing ideas and pipe dreams,' Vukosava replied, teasing him, but Gavrilo looked angry. He might have lost his temper if the argument backstage hadn't burst out into the cafe.

Johnny recognised Nedjo Cabrinovic as he was pushed into the cafe by a giant of a man. 'I do not wish to live like you, father!' Nedjo pointed at the coffee grinder in the serving area. 'A bean counter in every sense!' Nedjo stopped shouting, and with energetic dark eyes and an insolent smile, looked around the cafe.

'You talk to me like that, in my place of business!' The giant was beside himself with rage. For a moment, Johnny was home again, facing the full fury of his stepfather, after he'd been expelled from school.

'Why not? Will you get your friends in the police to lock me up again, or will I be expelled from Bosnia by your masters once more?' Nedjo was enjoying the stir he was causing, as he deliberately tried to provoke his father. 'I wish to live free from the taint of Austro-Hungarian capitalism.'

'Do you get these naive ideas from those peasant boys?' the giant said, pointing at Gavrilo and Johnny. 'Under the Monarchy we have