‘What’s the matter with frankness? Why has it to be forced?’
‘You say you fight no battles, Mr Foster,’ he said quietly, ‘but I tell you, you are wandering like a fool between the opposing forces of those who are. That is a crazy thing to do. Once, years ago in Vienna, I saw street fighting between troops and revolutionaries. The fighting went on for many days. But there was one street that was swept equally by the fire of both sides, and neither could advance. Then one afternoon something very silly happened, as so often it happens in war. Into this empty, silent street there came a man. We heard his footsteps first. Then we saw him. He staggered from a side turning right into the middle of the street and stood there swaying. He belonged to neither side. He was drunk and did not know where he was or what he was doing. He began to sing and wave and call out for a woman. At first the soldiers laughed and shouted jokes at him. But after a while their officer noticed that the enemy was taking advantage of the distraction to run across the far end of the street in ones and twos so as to outflank the troops. He shouted a warning and they opened fire. The enemy replied with covering fire and the street was swept from end to end with machine-gun bullets. The drunk was killed immediately. You see, Mr Foster?’
‘Which side were you on?’
‘I was a soldier then. I have been many things, Mr Foster.’
‘Yes. Tell me. The reason that your friend Valmo doesn’t want me to go to the Deltchev house again is that he doesn’t want me to ask Katerina Deltchev to confirm his story, isn’t it?’
‘I don’t know, Mr Foster. As long as you keep faith with Mr Valmo it does not matter. One thing I have to ask of you myself, however. I thought it discreet not to mention your connection with Petlarov; it would have complicated the affair. None of these things must on any account be mentioned to Petlarov. Or Mr Sibley. That is most important.’
‘All right.’ I was tired of the whole business now. I wanted to get to bed. I opened the car door. Pashik put out his hand again.
‘You will think over what I said, Mr Foster,’ he said anxiously. ‘It is for your own good I ask.’
I got out of the car. ‘I’ll be very sober,’ I said. ‘That I promise you. Good night.’
I was about to slam the door. He leaned across and held it open. His glasses flickered in the light from the hotel entrance as he looked up at me.
‘I hope so,’ he said slowly. ‘But if you do not intend to take my advice, Mr Foster, it might be less painful to be drunk. Good night.’
Then he shut the door and drove off.
I did not sleep well that night.
CHAPTER TWELVE
It was on the fourth day of the trial that the evidence connecting Deltchev with the Brotherhood was given.
When the court opened, a man named Kroum was called into the witness box. He was about fifty, with a bald head and glasses and an erect military appearance. He looked shrewd and brutal. He described himself as a Brigadier of Police in the detective department of the Ministry of the Interior. He was carefully washed and brushed and his manner was irritatingly complacent.
Prochaska began his examination in what was for him an unexpected way.
‘Brigadier Kroum, how long have you been a member of the police?’
‘Thirty years, sir.’
‘How long have you held your present appointment?’
‘Twelve years, sir.’
‘Are you a member of any political party?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Have you any political affiliations?’
‘No, sir.’
‘None at all?’
‘I do not interest myself in politics, sir. I have my work to do.’
‘An excellent citizen! Have you ever arrested a man or ordered his arrest for political reasons?’
‘The only reason for any arrest, sir, is that a man breaks or is suspected of breaking the law. I do not make the law. It is my duty simply to enforce the law under the constitution. That is the duty of every police officer,’ he added.
Someone near me sniggered at this; but my impression was that Brigadier Kroum meant what he said.
Prochaska glanced at a paper. ‘In March,’ he said, ‘were you concerned with the arrest of eight persons on the charge of trading illicitly in prepared opium?’
‘I was responsible for the arrests, sir.’
‘Did you also examine the prisoners?’
Kroum hesitated. ‘Unofficially, sir, and solely for the purpose of obtaining information about other members of the gang. The examining magistrate was responsible, of course, for the official interrogation.’
‘You were not usurping the magistrate’s function, but merely doing your duty as a police officer. Is that correct?’
‘Yes, sir. That is correct.’
‘But you gave the prisoners the impression that they were making official depositions?’
‘It is sometimes necessary, sir.’
He had a blubbery mouth with bad-tempered creases round it. Interrogation by Brigadier Kroum would not be an agreeable experience.
‘Was one of those arrested a man named Rila?’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Did you interrogate him?’
‘I did, sir.’
‘Tell the court about this interrogation.’
‘Yes, sir. This Rila is a criminal well known to the police. He is an old man who has served many prison sentences. I knew that his eldest granddaughter was pregnant for the first time. I told him that this time he would surely die in prison and never see his great-grandchild, but that if he assisted the police by telling all he knew, a permit might be obtained for the child to be brought for him to see.’ He looked doubtfully at the Prosecutor. ‘It is customary to offer such inducements to prisoners. No regulations would be broken, sir.’
‘No, no. Continue please.’
‘At first he refused to talk. Said he knew nothing. The usual.’ Kroum was gaining courage. ‘But the following day, when I saw him again, he was in a better mood. He had thought over my offer and he was worried. After a while he asked if I would protect him from any consequences there might be of his talking. That, too, is usual with criminals informing,’ he added confidentially.
‘Yes. Continue please.’
‘I asked him for the names of the other members of the gang. He said there were no other members and that we had them all and that there was no information he could give about that case. But he wanted to see his great- grandchild and there was other important information he could give in return for the concession. I said that if the information was valuable it might be possible.’
‘Continue.’
‘He then told me that there was in existence a conspiracy to assassinate Minister Vukashin and that the conspirators were members of the Officer Corps Brotherhood.’ He paused.
‘And did you believe him — this criminal who wished to purchase a concession with information?’
‘No, sir. At first I thought it was merely an impudent lie and sent him back to his cell. But on thinking it over I decided to question him again. Even though I thought that what he had said must be fantastic, the suggestion was so serious that I felt it necessary to make quite sure. I felt it my duty,’ he added virtuously.
‘Yes, yes. So you questioned him again.’
