activity outside the purview of the criminal police. Superintendent Beran has apparently stayed true to his prewar principle that police work should remain apolitical. As far as the Gestapo is aware, only one of Beran’s subordinates violated that commandment—the one who was subsequently executed in July 1942 for sympathizing with Reinhard Heydrich’s assassination. His guilt, however, is questionable, since his accuser was an informer he had jailed several times for fraud.”
Meckerle, tightly wedged into a chair that would have comfortably fit two normal men, smirked knowingly.
“Now comes the ‘but.” “
Buback nodded. His supervisor did not have many likable traits, but at least he was direct; long speeches bored Meckerle and brought out his aggressive side.
“Despite this I do not believe Commissioner Rajner’s assertion that the professional departments of the police will remain loyal to us; Rajner is completely in the dark. Although none of the Czech detectives sense or even imagine that I understand them, there is a heightened vigilance in my presence. My frequent visits have blunted this somewhat, and not all of the Czechs manage to hide all their feelings. What’s especially interesting is the mood early in the morning, when people trade fresh news and rumors. Even if they aren’t listening to enemy radio themselves, the Protectorate’s newspapers unfortunately give them more than enough information; the names of eastern cities in the old Czechoslovak Republic appear more and more frequently in announcements from the Reich armed forces high command. During their morning break for rye coffee or herb tea—which they brew up by the hundred-liter—there is a palpable air of excitement throughout the building. Now and then one of them will even drop the pretense of decorum in my presence.”
“Do we have an agent in the building?”
“Two, in fact: one is a technician, the primary one is the garage manager. Their reports are muddled, and all I can read from them is that they no longer believe Germany will eventually prevail, and that they are afraid for their own skins. To judge by what happened in the Netherlands, they will be the first to stab us in the back, if it gives them an alibi. Things will certainly be even worse in the operations units of the Czech police, since they are part of the repressive apparatus of a collaborationist government. As the front moves closer to Prague, the danger will grow that they’ll turn against us at the eleventh hour to rehabilitate themselves.”
“How can we avoid it? Should we lock a couple of them up? Or shoot them?”
What a waste of time, Buback thought; if he can’t even come up with a more intelligent idea…
“I’m afraid it would radicalize the Czech police; in Prague alone there are up to two thousand of them—badly armed, it’s true, but well trained.”
“So then what?”
Meckerle was evidently starting to feel bored.
“Give me a bit of time, Standartenfuhrer. I’ll try to gain the confidence of one of the office workers, Beran’s secretary.”
The giant’s eyes once again showed interest.
“Aha. A little ‘give-and-take’? At last. You’re too young and handsome to play the lifelong widower. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“That’s exactly what I have in mind…”
My God, he stopped short; what am I thinking?
He recalled his first sight of the young woman: in the Czech police superintendent’s anteroom, the eyes of his Hilde had looked shyly and touchingly out at him, just like when he had seen her for the first time…
“What’s new with the deviant?” Meckerle remembered as Chief Inspector Erwin Buback stood up to take his leave.
“The most promising trail leads to Brno. I’m going there with Beran’s assistant this afternoon. Brno’s close to the front; it will be easier to assess our overall situation from there as well.”
At the very same moment as Buback was filling Meckerle in, Morava was reporting his
Meckerle, tightly wedged into a chair that would have comfortably fit two normal men, smirked knowingly.
“Now comes the ‘but.” “
Buback nodded. His supervisor did not have many likable traits, but at least he was direct; long speeches bored Meckerle and brought out his aggressive side.
“Despite this I do not believe Commissioner Rajner’s assertion that the professional departments of the police will remain loyal to us; Rajner is completely in the dark. Although none of the Czech detectives sense or even imagine that I understand them, there is a heightened vigilance in my presence. My frequent visits have blunted this somewhat, and not all of the Czechs manage to hide all their feelings. What’s especially interesting is the mood early in the morning, when people trade fresh news and rumors. Even if they aren’t listening to enemy radio themselves, the Protectorate’s newspapers unfortunately give them more than enough information; the names of eastern cities in the old Czechoslovak Republic appear more and more frequently in announcements from the Reich armed forces high command. During their morning break for rye coffee or herb tea—which they brew up by the hundred-liter—there is a palpable air of excitement throughout the building. Now and then one of them will even drop the pretense of decorum in my presence.”
“Do we have an agent in the building?”
“Two, in fact: one is a technician, the primary one is the garage manager. Their reports are muddled, and all I can read from them is that they no longer believe Germany will eventually prevail, and that they are afraid for their own skins. To judge by what happened in the Netherlands, they will be the first to stab us in the back, if it gives them an alibi. Things will certainly be even worse in the operations units of the Czech police, since they are part of the repressive apparatus of a collaborationist government. As the front moves closer to Prague, the danger will grow that they’ll turn against us at the eleventh hour to rehabilitate themselves.”
“How can we avoid it? Should we lock a couple of them up? Or shoot them?”
What a waste of time, Buback thought; if he can’t even come up with a more intelligent idea…
“I’m afraid it would radicalize the Czech police; in Prague alone there are up to two thousand of them—badly armed, it’s true, but well trained.”
“So then what?”
Meckerle was evidently starting to feel bored.
“Give me a bit of time, Standartenfuhrer. I’ll try to gain the confidence of one of the office workers, Beran’s secretary.”
The giant’s eyes once again showed interest.
“Aha. A little ‘give-and-take’? At last. You’re too young and handsome to play the lifelong widower. Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“That’s exactly what I have in mind…”
My God, he stopped short; what am I thinking?
He recalled his first sight of the young woman: in the Czech police superintendent’s anteroom, the eyes of his Hilde had looked shyly and touchingly out at him, just like when he had seen her for the first time…
“What’s new with the deviant?” Meckerle remembered as Chief Inspector Erwin Buback stood up to take his leave.
“The most promising trail leads to Brno. I’m going there with Beran’s assistant this afternoon. Brno’s close to the front; it will be easier to assess our overall situation from there as well.”
At the very same moment as Buback was filling Meckerle in, Morava was reporting his
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