The Widow Killer Read Free Page B

quote—‘the police departments of the Protectorate are required to act on the instructions of the Reich’s criminal police,” end quote. What’s more, the imperial protector will no doubt offer a reward for the capture of this criminal. The murderer must be found. Lack of diligence will be treated as sabotage.“
    Buback watched the youth scribbling in his notebook, concentrating so hard his tongue nearly hung out. The kid wasn’t their intended audience, but he would convey the message accurately to his superiors. Thirty-three months ago, thousands of Czech hostages had paid with their lives for the assassination of the Nazis’ acting imperial protector, Reinhard Heydrich. The boy could certainly imagine the carnage to come if Germany decided that this murder had a political motive.
    “Do you want your people to keep the evidence?” the youth asked with surprising practicality.
    “I’ll tell you what we want,” Meckerle thundered. “I want that monster’s head. How you get it is your business! Detective Buback will be watching your every move. Unless he finds incredibly good reasons for your mistakes and delays, I will personally bring them to the attention of the Prague Castle and Berlin.”
    The colonel’s explosions always rattled his own men; therefore, it irritated Buback when the kid merely cleared his throat again.
    “I understand. May I use the telephone?”
    Meckerle gestured with a glove.
    “Tell your supervisor that his absence today is quite exceptionally excused. Tomorrow at eight hundred hours I expect to see his personal status report on my desk at Bredovska Street. Even”—and here he raised his voice again—“if it’s thundering and bombs are falling!”
    More bombs were falling on his beloved Dresden as they spoke, Buback remembered. Was his old home still standing? Anyway, what was the difference… ? Once the others had trooped off, Buback took his anger out on the Czech.
    “Is there a problem? The telephone is in the entrance hall; hop to it and look smart. We haven’t touched anything here, it’s your neck on the line now.”
    The kid rushed off and was heard asking a Jitka to get him an autopsy team quickly. Buback was alone in the apartment for the first time. He looked at the unbelievable object, which someone had created not long ago from a human being, and shivered.
    He described in a whisper how he had done the deed and, as expected, heard praise. He left the church a new man; the unbearable tension of the previous days was behind him. He had done it! He’d erased the shame of Brno. He had proved he was worthy of trust, and now he, and no one else, would carry out the rest of the assignment. This morning he had still doubted himself; would it be humanly possible? But incredibly she had calmed his fears and confirmed him as her judge on earth.
    For the first time in years, his spirits were high. However, he had a new problem. He had less and less control over his body. Even after a long rest, he felt as if he’d been marching all day. But even when doing it he’d just stood there; there had been no resistance. Why this stupor; why did even a light bag weigh him down?
    The answer he received was so simple he had to laugh. A woman rolled her bicycle out of a nearby courtyard; as she walked she bit into the heel of a loaf of bread, and his stomach immediately cramped up. Of course, he realized; with all the excitement, he’d had nothing to eat or drink since yesterday.
    He placed his satchel on the sidewalk and pulled his wallet from the inside pocket of his raincoat. Sure, he had tons of ration coupons left, even halfway through the month; he’d neglected himself completely the last few days. This would have to stop. If he was to succeed and fulfill the highest obligation, he needed strength.
    He looked around the unfamiliar street and wasn’t the least bit surprised to find a restaurant directly opposite. “Angel’s.” How appropriate. His spirits revived