Read THE HEART OF DANGER Online
Authors: Gerald Seymour
Tags: #War Crimes; thriller; mass grave; Library; Kupa; Croatia; Mowatt; Penn; Dorrie;
Yes,
like a blow from a sledgehammer .. . HEADMASTER/SALIKA VILLAGE
SCHOOL:
Salika (Serb) is twin village to Rosenovici (Croat), 1 mile apart.
(Capture of Rosenovici by Salika men, who were responsible for
killing
of wounded and DM.) Found praying at night in Rosenovici mass grave
site, 'a place of evil'. He helped me because 'you have the power
to
hurt the madness'. Educated, intelligent, early sixties, with
personal
bravery to condemn the war crime killing of DM and wounded. In the
past
he had carried food to KD (see below), but stopped after threatened
denunciation by wife. A man standing alone against his own society.
Recently removed from head mastership of school, now isolated in
Salika, recently beaten by para militaries Took me to meet KD, the
only known eyewitness to the killings (other than participants).
Was
due to accompany me and KD into Rosenovici, following evening after
meeting, but did not show. An extremely brave man. KATICA DUBELJ:
(See KD above). Aged 84. KD is only prime eyewitness to death of
DM.
Now lives in cave, 1 mile approx, in woodland NNW from Rosenovici.
Quite appalling conditions, diet of roots and berries, no hygiene.
All
other former residents of Rosenovici are refugees, or dead. Speaks
no
275
English, cannot write. Because Headmaster did not return, no signed
affidavit of her evidence. Unable to communicate with her except
by
sign, shown photograph of DM, recognized, kissed it. Took me in
darkness from woods into Rosenovici village. Showed me from her
house
the route used by para militaries to take DM and wounded to mass grave
site. Route passed directly in front of her window, which afforded
clear view of grave site. Paramilitaries commanded by MS (see
below).
KD mimed action. DM carried two wounded, kicked 1 paramilitary. DM
and wounded made to wait in field while bulldozer dug pit. DM and
wounded forced into pit. DM, holding her boy, last in line as wounded
knifed, beaten, shot. Final effort made to separate DM from her boy,
unsuccessful as DM fought para militaries back. DM and boy killed
by
MS (see below) after DM kicked him. KD escaped when I was captured
and
taken to Salika village. My opinion, KD is a most reliable witness
with total recall of events. MILAN STANKOVlC .. . Henry Carter felt
so
old. So old and so tired and so sad. They were all trapped by young Dome Mowat, who was dead. All trapped, Mary and Penn, Benny and Ham
and the eyewitnesses, and the Headmaster and this most extraordinary
old woman .. . and himself. All flies in the skein web of the spider
that was Dome Mowat. "Would you like some more coffee, Mr. Carter?"
The supervisor called across the Library floor. "They didn't have
it
in my day, but then that sort of music would never have been allowed
in
Library in my day .. . I don't suppose you've any brandy .. . ? We
all
demand the truth, but we very seldom stop to consider the consequences
of knowing the truth .. ." There was brandy, cheap and Spanish, kept in a locked drawer of the supervisor's desk, hidden from the day
shift,
and poured for him into his coffee mug. They were all looking at
him,
each young man and each young woman on the night shift, as though
he
were just a sad, tired, old desk warrior, trapped in nostalgia by
a
file. She came very quietly down the stairs, but then she knew which
step creaked, carrying her bag and her shoes. They were still
talking,
still discussing her, in the dining room, as she went silently back
276
into her kitchen. '.. . You've got a chance now, Charles, and you'd better damn well take it. Like someone's overboard and you go into
the
water to get them out, double damn quick. You've got a chance now
to
rescue her .. . My nephew was down in Bosnia, driving Warriors, he
said
that standards of common decency don't exist, it's a cruel madhouse.
We
should all turn our backs to it until they come to their senses, and
so
should Mary .. . She's such a lovely woman and the strain she's been
under, the stress, so many years, it's been pitiful to see ... I tell
you, Charles, each time I came here, when I left I'd say to Libby,
thank God that child's not ours .. ." Mary took the last saucepan
off
the Aga's hot surface, and she closed up the Aga's lids. The dogs,
slavering mouths, were sitting either side of the table and the tray
with the cutlets was between them. She covered up the vegetables.
She
took her coat from the hook behind the door, and the keys for her
car.
'.. . Do you think, Charles, that Mary needs a hand? Jocasta's such a
help .. . Emily's always there when I need her .. ." Mary took a
sheet
from the memory pad. She wrote, "Gone away. Dorrie's business.
Back
soon. Don't ever let those bastards and bitches into our house
again.
Mary." It was Charles's business maxim, never to explain, never to apologize. She left the note under the gravy boat, where he'd see
it,
when he came searching .. . She wondered how long it would take them,
the stupid puerile bastards and the malicious scavenging bitches,
before they came to offer help, and she wondered whether Judy and
Liz
would have beaten them to the lamb cutlets. She was drawn back, a
last
time, to look at the photograph in her den room. Mary said, "Darling, understand me, I am so sorry .. . and I am so proud." She slipped
out,
carrying her bag and her coat, through the kitchen door, closing it
carefully after her. She would drive away through the village, leave
it behind her. Behind her would be the garden of the Manor House
where
277
she had that afternoon picked spring flowers for the lounge
arrangements, and behind her would be the brick cottage with the
climbing wisteria where the old widow with the varicose veins lived
whom she had visited that afternoon, and behind her would be the
smiling greeting of the butcher where she had bought her meat that
afternoon, and her neighbours and her friends who had been a part
of
her life that afternoon. All behind her. There was a bitter wind
on
her face, a cleansing wind. When he had no audience then he hated
to
be alive. Sometimes the drink made Ham morose and self-pitying, and
sometimes it made him loud and aggressive. He sat on the floor of
the
hotel room and the Dragunov rifle with the big telescopic sight was
on
the carpet near his stretched legs, and he held loose to the bottle's
neck and the bottle was going down. He felt such morose self-pity
because he was alone and they ignored him. They were on the wide
bed.
He could see Penn's head, and he might have been sleeping, and he
might
just have been lying still with his eyes closed, and he could see
the
fingers of the German woman playing smooth patterns on the skin of
Penn's face. Penn was his nightmare. When he was alone, his
nightmare
was capture, and capture was torture. They always tortured the
foreigners. He could see Penn's face, where her fingers made the
patterns, and his face was the start of the torture. There were many
nightmares for Ham, when he was alone .. . Torture was the worst but
the fears, when he was alone, competed with torture. The small kid
in
the tower block, his father long gone, with the acne, bullied and
rejected. His Karen holding tight to his Dawn and carrying the
suitcase to the door of the married quarters house and wearing the
bruise he had given her with his fist, and her not looking back as
she
walked to the taxi, and his bawling after her because he was rejected.
His "Sunray', commanding officer of 3rd Battalion, Parachute
Regiment,
reading the riot act at the depot in Aldershot, telling him it
wouldn't
go to court but that his services were no longer required, rejected.
Him being told, the bastard sneering, that he didn't fit into the
scene
278
at Personal Security Ltd (Bodyguards), wasn't smart enough with the
clients, didn't keep his mouth shut enough with the clients, going
at
the end of the week, rejected. His getting pissed up in the bunker
at
Osijek, and the crap guy Howard needling him because he had the
photograph of his Karen and his Dawn, and the gun pulled to shut the
bastard up, and the shot in the bunker blasting his ears and the blood
on his body, and the other Internationals chucking him out and letting
him know that they didn't want him when they headed for Bosnia,
rejected. The nightmares of rejection pushed close to the worst
nightmare, when he was alone .. . And the man on the bed with the
woman, he was different. The man, Penn, listened to what he said,
with
no shitty sneers. The man on the bed thanked him. Penn didn't shout at him, didn't rubbish him. There hadn't been officers like Penn
at 3
Para, hadn't been management like Penn at Personal Security Ltd
(Bodyguards), hadn't been commanders like Penn in the
Internationals.
Penn listened, and Penn thanked him, no other bastard did. Because
he
was close to Penn, Ham felt safe from the nightmares .. . And he
believed what Penn told him .. . believed that Penn would take the
flight out in the afternoon, when he'd slept and sobered, and go find
his Dawn and his Karen. He thought Penn the best man he ever knew
.. .
"Have you any bloody idea what the time is?" Georgie Simpson said miserably, "It's past one here .. ." "And if you didn't know it, there
is a time difference between London and Zagreb. I have 2.17, it is
2.17 in the morning." He could hear, down the telephone line, a baby crying. "I'm sorry ... I was told to speak to you personally. They seemed to think it urgent. I was told it wasn't to go by telex ..
."
"So damned urgent that it couldn't wait till the morning?" He ignored
sarcasm by habit. And Georgie Simpson had never been elevated to
the
responsibility of running a field station, and he had never ceased
to
wonder at the goddamn arrogance of field officers abroad, wearing
a
first secretary's cover. It was not the moment to let it be known
that
his own office, from which he had telephoned Zagreb at two-hour
279
intervals from eleven o'clock the previous morning, had the heating
off
and was cold as the grave. "You weren't in your office, and neither your secretary nor your wife knew when you were returning .. . I'm
sorry .. ." "We don't run by the clock here. I've actually been in
Sector East, not that you'd know where that is. I've actually been
in
a quite bloody unpleasant area, not that you'd understand it ... Well,
what's so important?" "Can we go to "secure" .. . ?" There were clicks on the line, a sharp bleep, then the voice level from Zagreb
was
at reduced volume. "Give it me .. ." Georgie Simpson gave the name of
William Penn, described the nature of his assignment, spoke of
Security
Service meddling .. . "I met him. I gave him a useless start point.
He
came to see me. I told him to let the dead sleep. I told him to
go
away." He felt he held the high ground, felt more cheerful. "Didn't listen to you, I'm afraid. Pity that you've been out of touch. If
you'd been in touch then you'd know of events in Sector North .. .
We
think he'll be back in Zagreb by now .. . Get him on the first plane,
will you?" "Yes." And it was not Georgie Simpson's business to concern himself with Penn. Not for him to consider the effect of
his
telephone call, on 'secure', to Zagreb. He was just the Joe who
passed
on messages from an unheated office in the small hours of the night.
But curiosity stirred in him. "You said that you'd met him?" "I did,
does it matter .. . Personally, I regard it as late for conversation
..
." "I just wondered about him ... I mean, what on earth did he do it
for?" "I am actually rather tired .. . They're a bit pathetic, these sort of people. Dig into their lives and you'll find angst ... are
you
following me? They're failures, and they're looking for a way back.
Myself, if I needed to up the dose of self-respect then I hope, dear
God, that I could find an easier way than trekking into Sector North.
It's a bad hook to be caught with because there are likely to be tears
at the end of the line .. . Don't ever bloody well ring me at this
time
280
again." "My apologies to your wife. Sorry I woke the baby .. ."
Ulrike thought the squat little man in the uniform that was a size
too
large, on the floor with the long-barrelled rifle beside his legs,