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

Johnny joined the doctors who’d rushed to treat the Royal couple and helped carry the Archduke as he and his wife were brought up to the first floor of the residence. The Archduke was put on an ugly green and red chaise longue in the Governor's study, while his wife was taken into the adjoining bedroom. Downstairs he could hear the clatter of cutlery as preparations for the Governor’s lunch continued.

In his shocked state, Johnny had a vague notion of trying to talk to the Archduke to explain what excellent service he'd been to him, up until he was shot.

He immediately regretted the idea. The Archduke's bleeding had got worse; there was blood on the gold stars of his collar insignia and down the front of his tunic. His breathing had become barely audible as he started to lose consciousness.

The four doctors in attendance started to cut off Franz Ferdinand’s uniform, desperately searching for his wound. Johnny knew it was hopeless; he remembered Ilic's words, “Where this hits, no medicine can help”. Dejected, he turned to leave and saw von Harrach with a group of outraged soldiers, blocking the door.

'There you are, skulking in the corner like the rat you are. Waiting to finish your handiwork, no doubt.'

'I beg your pardon?' Johnny replied in disbelief.

'You deliberately drove the Archduke into a trap!' von Harrach shouted, drawing some angry glances from the doctors.

'What are you talking about? I most certainly did not,' Johnny said indignantly. He knew he should have done more to prevent this from happening, but he thought von Harrach’s accusation was a bit strong.

'Save it for the hangman!' von Harrach bellowed and signalled for the soldiers to seize Johnny.

Chapter 38

Johnny came to on a rough, stone floor with a hazy memory of being hit over the head with a rifle. He could hear muffled voices and a door open and close behind him. He realised that he was in an office and thought he recognised it, but he just couldn’t remember where it was, or when he’d been in it before.

The door swung open again. Johnny looked around and saw Gavrilo and Nedjo, sitting in a medical room directly opposite him. His stomach turned over - they were in a terrible state.

A bloated, pasty-faced man made sure that Johnny saw the scene, then closed the door. Johnny realised then that he was in the City Hall Police Station; he’d sat in that same medical room when Breitner recruited him.

'I'd say, under the circumstances, you've got off lightly,' the man said. Johnny tried to get up but his legs gave way. The man signalled to a guard and Johnny was hauled into a chair.

Johnny now recognised the man as Leo Pfeffer. The chap from the Consulate had sent Johnny to see him when he had first arrived in Sarajevo. 'Mr Pfeffer, you know me. I came to see you a few weeks ago,' Johnny said.

'Did you really?'

'Yes, I asked you about the nationalist movement in Bosnia.'

'It appears you found them, by all accounts.' The last time they’d spoken Pfeffer had told Johnny that there was no nationalist movement in Sarajevo and it seemed that he wanted to cover up his lack of knowledge by pretending not to know him.

'Look, Mr Pfeffer, there have been some pretty wild accusations flying about, but it's nothing that can’t be explained. If you contact Laszlo Breitner he can straighten everything out.' Johnny felt that this was his only real chance to escape this mess. He couldn't expect any help from Sir George since this was exactly the sort of thing that Sir George had been hoping would happen to him.

Pfeffer put his glasses on, the preliminary side of their discussion over. 'I've been appointed as the investigating judge of this case, and as such it is my duty to inform you that Her Highness the Duchess Sophie of Hohenberg, died on arrival at the Governor's residence.'

Johnny was shocked. 'But surely, she just fainted.'

'One of the shots that Princip fired penetrated the right side of the car and hit her in the lower abdomen. His Imperial and Royal Highness the Archduke Franz Ferdinand of Austria-Este died ten minutes later, from a wound to his neck.’

'Princip couldn't have done that…he wasn't even looking at them when he fired.' Johnny felt numb.

‘The bullet hit the Heir Apparent just under the collar of his jacket, nicked the jugular artery and embedded in his spine,’ Pfeffer said blandly and then began to charge Johnny as an accomplice in the murder of the Archduke and his wife. All that Johnny could think of was the blood in the Archduke's mouth. It had been the first time that he had seen anyone shot and he hoped to God it would be the last.

Viktor Ivasjuk, the hawk-faced Chief of Detectives, whom Johnny had also met when he first arrived, wasn't quite so formal when Johnny was dragged into his office later that night. He examined the contours of Johnny's skull and deduced that he was a degenerate criminal, of the worst order.

'Maybe there is something to Lombroso's theory of criminology, after all,' Johnny said with a smile, trying to hide his unease at the examination.

Viktor struck Johnny in the face - his methodology didn't appear to be a laughing matter.

'Who were you working with to assassinate the Heir Apparent?' If Viktor recognised Johnny from their previous meeting, he saw no need to mention it.

'Look, as I told the investigating judge, you need to speak to Breitner. I've been working with him - you sent me to see him for goodness’ sake!' Johnny was deeply shocked by the deaths of Franz Ferdinand and Sophie and wanted to help in any way he could, but he saw that Viktor wasn’t in a mood to listen to reason. Johnny knew that anything