The Canceled Czech

Page 13

“What is her name?”

“Greta Neumann.”

“She will do what you tell her?”

“Yes.”

“And how would this plan of yours work?”

“We would take the Slovak from the castle,” I said. “Without firing a shot. We would go in after him and take him out and no one would be the wiser.”

“Do you know how well the place is guarded?”

“I just know of the three guards outside. How many others are there?”

“In the daytime,” Haim said, “dozens. At night, considerably fewer. The three which you saw, and one on post outside Kotacek’s cell, and two at the foot of the staircase. If only we could get Kotacek to cooperate, there is one plan we might try. You know how sick he is. Everything in the world is wrong with him. Diabetes, his heart, catalepsy – whatever that is.”

Catalepsy is a form of epilepsy, except the victim doesn’t thrash around during a seizure. He lies like a corpse, and usually wears a little silver tag around his neck begging undertakers not to embalm him by mistake.

“Everything wrong with him,” Haim went on. “So if he could pretend to be sick, and then one of us went into the castle carrying the little black bag of a doctor-”

“I don’t think it would work,” I said.

“No, we have abandoned it.” He shrugged. “If your plan is workable, we ought to hear it. What is it?”

I told them.

“I don’t know,” Zvi said. “It sounds… I don’t know. Do you really think it could be done?”

“Yes.”

“And the girl?”

“She is perfect for the part. You will be convinced when you meet her, but for now you may take my word for it. She is ideal.”

“And she would do it?”

“She will cooperate in every sense of the word.”

“She is here in Prague?”

“Yes, at a friend’s house.”

“You can bring her here?”

“She will be here tomorrow night. We can put the plan into operation immediately.”

“Let’s go over it again,” Gershon said. “I would like to hear it one more time.”

We went over it several more times. I wanted to get an idea of the position of our quarters in relation to the castle, so Ari took me upstairs to the attic. He carried a flashlight with a very thin beam. We climbed the stairs in silence, moved to the attic window. From there we had a perfect view of the front of the castle.

“When we planned to take the castle with a direct assault,” he said, “we thought of posting one man here with a rifle. But there are so few of us, that would leave just three to storm the place. It is a good view, is it not?”

It was an excellent view. He handed me a pair of binoculars and indicated Kotacek’s cell, in the left rear tower. From our angle I could see the light in his cell window but nothing more.

“We’d better go now, Evan. We all need sleep. There is an extra bed on the first floor, if you need it.”

“I slept most of the day. I’m not tired.”

“You’ll be leaving, then?”

“I could stand guard, if you’d like. I want to go for the girl, but I can’t get her until morning.”

“We usually stand guard in two-hour shifts.”

“I could take the whole night, as long as there’s something to read.”

“You wouldn’t fall asleep?”

“No. I’m not at all tired.”

We went downstairs, and they discussed it. They decided that they were all very tired and would be delighted if I would stand guard and let them sleep uninterrupted. I was glad of this, not because of any mad passion for guard duty but because I read their decision as a sign of trust. It was vital that they trust me. Otherwise I would have a devil of a time in betraying them.

They all slept in the basement, on mattresses which they had lugged down from various second-floor bedrooms. The house evidently belonged to some important Communist Party functionary who had been sent somewhere as ambassador. I sat in the same chair I’d been tied up in, facing the cellar stairs and reading with the aid of the pencil-beam flashlight. The basement windows had been so well masked off that I couldn’t even tell when dawn broke. My companions awoke one by one, and we had breakfast together, and then I left to collect Greta. It was midmorning by the time I reached Klaus Silber’s bungalow.

He let me in, wreathed in smiles. “So we finally meet, Mr. Tanner. I have so greatly enjoyed your articles and letters. And there is much that I would wish to discuss with you.”

I wanted to talk at length but had no time to spare. Still, I let him persuade me to have a cup of tea and some rolls. We had a good talk. I asked about Greta, and he told me that she was fine. “But nervous, Tanner. A nervous girl.”

“She’s been sick.”

“Ah.”

I went upstairs and collected Greta. “You should have told me the man was insane,” she said. “I was afraid you would not come back for me. Such a man to leave me with!”

“He’s a fine old gentleman.”

“He’s out of his mind.”