government actions. He was hoping that would give them enough power to stop Rehling before EurCon’s special commissioner rode roughshod over the whole police force.
The Prosecutor General’s building stood out like a sore thumb among its more graceful, elegant neighbors. It was a drab, featureless concrete structure originally erected by Russian engineers hastily repairing bomb damage after World War II. Hradetsky suspected Hungary’s old communist puppet government had housed its lawyers in such a place to foster the notion of grim, faceless state authority. Bureaucratic inertia kept them there even after the communists fell from power.
Still, the foyer was bustling — crowded with attorneys and legal clerks coming and going on court business. Feeling out of place and conspicuous in his uniform, he brushed past them to an information desk where a lone, harried clerk reluctantly provided a building directory for his use.
Finding Bartha’s office number, he rode the creaking, manually operated elevator up to the right floor, got off, and walked down a hall painted a fading tan. To save electricity, every other light fixture was empty, creating pockets of shadow. The dingy gloom made Hradetsky faintly uneasy, almost as though he were committing a treasonous act in coming here. He squared his shoulders, rejecting the notion. Certainly he was going outside the normal channels of communication, but the idea of appealing to that drone Dozsa was ludicrous.
He stopped in front of an old-fashioned frosted-glass door. Black lettering told him the office belonged to “Anthal Bartha, Assistant to Budapest Prosecutor.” He knocked, waited a moment, and then went in.
The room’s only occupant sat at a desk facing the door, surrounded by piles of folders and bound documents. More paper filled the bookshelves on either side. The impression was not one of disorder, but of a tremendous work load.
The man at the desk was younger than Hradetsky by several years, but his black hair was already more than half gray. He was taller, too, but Hradetsky was used to that. He had a narrow face that looked up at his visitor in mixed puzzlement and expectation. “Yes? What can I do for you” — keen dark eyes took in the three silver stars on his shoulder boards — ”Colonel?”
“Solicitor Bartha, I’m Zoltan Hradetsky. We worked together a few years ago in Sopron — on the Andorka case.”
“That’s right.” Recognition and pleasure replaced Bartha’s previous expression.
Hradetsky nodded toward the only other chair in the room. “May I?”
“Please.” The lawyer waited for him to get settled. “So what brings you here today? I assume you have more on your mind than pleasant reminiscences.”
Hradetsky cleared his throat. This was where things got tricky. “I must ask you a question before I tell you my business, Solicitor.”
“Certainly.”
“Will you swear to keep this meeting private, until I say otherwise?” Even in Hradetsky’s ears that sounded melodramatic. Nevertheless, he couldn’t see any other way to proceed. With eyes-only documents that could be traced back to Silvanus in his attache case, his wasn’t the only career at stake.
“Of course,” Bartha answered, his curiosity evidently piqued. “I am quite used to sensitive matters.”
“Not like this, I am afraid.” Hradetsky shook his head. “I’m here to ask your help. I have information, some documents, that I must get into the right hands. I believe this new EurCon liaison, Rehling, has plans to turn my service into another secret police force, another AVO!”
Bartha’s eyes opened wide at his mention of the hated Stalinist-era security service. Used to smash all dissent during the first years of communist rule, AVO troops had even fired on their own people in the 1956 revolution.
“Brigadier General Dozsa is doing nothing to stop him, and my own situation inside the ministry is so tenuous that I cannot take any action myself.”
“What? But you’re full colonel. A man with years of honored service. How can this be?”
Hradetsky sketched in the details of his clash with the French in Sopron and his subsequent exile to the ministry’s bureaucratic depths. Reliving the humiliating events of the past few months ate away at his self-control. By the time he finished, his voice was tight with anger.
“So now this Rehling appears and suddenly rules us by fiat. If he has his way, real criminals will wander unchecked while we become just guards protecting French and German businesses! Just another group of thugs hunting down our own people who object to all of this!” The memory of Sopron leapt into his mind again.
His face full of concern, Bartha nodded his understanding. “You mentioned some documentation of these charges?”
Hradetsky passed him the printouts he’d been given and waited in silence while the lawyer perused them, carefully scanning each page.
When he’d finished, Bartha handed them back, shaking his head unhappily. “Is this all you have? There is nothing else you can show me?”
“Isn’t this enough?”
“Not for my superiors or me to take action.” Seeing Hradetsky’s puzzled look, he hastened to explain. “Yes, a few regulations have undoubtedly been broken, but these are all internal police organizational matters. They aren’t even misdemeanors.”
“I wasn’t looking for an indictment,” said Hradetsky. “I just wanted to show these to someone who could cancel them, or stand up to this German. Dozsa certainly won’t.”
“Nor will anyone in this building. I can tell you right now that my superiors would throw you out of their offices.” Bartha jerked a thumb toward the ceiling. “Your commander isn’t the only one who’s running scared of our new ‘allies.’”
Hradetsky spread his hands. “I have nothing to lose.”
Bartha’s tone hardened. “Yes, you do. Your freedom.” He leaned forward and lowered his voice. “We have our own problems here in the Prosecutor General’s Office. The government has been quietly issuing new decrees for the past several weeks. They allow the arrest of anyone labeled a subversive — on very shaky legal grounds. As a lawyer, I would challenge these laws if I were ever asked to enforce them.”
His shoulders slumped. “But in this day and age I don’t think our Supreme Court will ever get to hear such a case.”
“So we are losing the last vestige of our rights.”
“Perhaps. In any case, it would be well to lie low for a while and see how things develop. Getting yourself in trouble won’t help anything.” Bartha suddenly stood up, ending the interview. He went to the door, opened it, and looked left and right down the hall.
We’ve become prisoners in our own country, Hradetsky thought sadly. Even our best officials are afraid.
He took his leave quickly and left the building. Silvanus’ documents were still in his briefcase. Walking back to his own office gave him time to think. He didn’t even feel the cold wind still blowing off the Danube.
Things were as bad at the Prosecutor General’s Office as they were inside the Interior Ministry. Maybe even worse. Watching existing laws flouted or ignored under emergency military rule had been troubling enough. But he’d be damned if he’d enforce a whole new set of laws designed to make Hungary’s serfdom a permanent condition.
So nobody in higher authority would talk to him. Very well. He grimaced. Bartha’s advice to “lay low” left a bad taste in his mouth. He’d laid low long enough.
Changing direction, Hradetsky lengthened his stride. He had a long way to go, but he needed the time to plan. He knew someone who would look at the evidence he carried. Someone who might be able to do something about it.
CHAPTER 13
Revelations
Vance could smell the sea as soon as he climbed out of his rented Audi. He was beginning to hate that smell.
