Page 49 of The Secret of Secrets

Janáček wiped the sleep from his eyes, trying to focus. “Yes?”

“There are two prominent Americans in Prague right now. I need them arrested.”

“You know I can’t simply arrest foreigners without—”

“All the intelligence you require will be provided. Listen carefully.”

As Janáček listened to what the two Americans were plotting, he felt a familiar outrage. A publicity stunt? A bomb threat at the Four Seasons? Outrageous! He was tired of foreigners treating his country like a lawless playground.

“I have to warn you,” Janáček said, “the only charge I can use here is ‘disturbing the peace.’ If these Americans are wealthy or well-known, the U.S. embassy will instantly intercede.”

“Forget the embassy,” the man assured. “I’ll take care of the ambassador. All you need to do is amplify the severity of their offense. I’ll tell you how.”

The man’s idea had been a clever one—simple, clean—a minor embellishment that would enable Janáček to make an ironclad arrest and finally show the ambassador that “being American” did not elevate anyone above Czech law.

A white lie that serves justice is an honorable lie, Janáček believed. He had no interest in the handsome reward the man had offered for helping. Outsmarting the embassy will be reward enough, he thought, still bitter from past skirmishes. And so, precisely as the caller had suggested, Janáček had crossed the line and enhanced the truth…ever so slightly.

There was no bomb—just a bomb threat—but the simple tweak escalated the charges to a far more serious level.

Now, lying broken in the ravine, Janáček had seen his moment of glory evaporate like a mirage. Humiliated by the ambassador, who planned to contact Janáček’s superior, he had canceled his press conference and called off the demolition team. His eagerness to make a high-profile arrest had turned him into an easy target…a willing pawn.

Maybe the American caller used me for his own purposes? The man’s credentials checked out, as did the number from which he called.

None of it mattered anymore.

Sprawled on the rocks, Janáček felt warm blood flowing freely from the back of his head. He was aware of the life draining out of him. In an odd way, death almost seemed a kinder option than having to cower before the American embassy, especially the smug Michael Harris.

This is a blessing, Janáček decided, surprised by his complete lack of panic.

Strangely, the captain now felt as if he were moving farther away…from himself. He was pleasantly detached from his broken physical form, untroubled by pain or injury, as if he were rising and leaving the complications of the world behind him.

There was no fear…only a swell of serenity. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced in life.

Chapter 31

Dana Daněk was growing impatient with the lack of results from the facial recognition database to identify the woman on Charles Bridge. The process seemed to be taking an unusually long time.

While she waited, she had returned to the bird’s-eye surveillance footage. She was now watching the woman with the tiara standing motionless at the eastern end of the bridge…as if waiting for something.

Suddenly, at 6:52 a.m., the woman received a call. She answered immediately, speaking only a matter of seconds before placing the phone back into her pocket. Then, to Dana’s bewilderment, the woman produced a small bottle from her pocket and splashed the liquid contents all over the shoulders and arms of her black coat.

Perfume? Holy water?

She pocketed the bottle, adjusted her spiked tiara, and then reached inside the lining of her coat and pulled out a metal rod of some sort. It looked like a small silver spear.

Is she carrying a weapon?

Then she began drifting slowly, almost zombielike, across the deserted bridge. As she approached the halfway point, a tall man with dark hair entered the frame, striding eastward, moving toward her. He was wearing exercise sweats and running shoes. As he drew even, he abruptly stopped and turned, as if talking to her. The woman either ignored him or didn’t hear. She just kept moving. The man seemed momentarily paralyzed. He called out to her again with no response, and then abruptly he wheeled and sprinted away in the direction he had originally been running…until he was out of the camera frame.

What just happened?

Dana rewound the playback and watched the whole sequence again. She was curious to know where the man was running, but for now she scrutinized the strange phantomlike woman. Dana engaged the software’s “autotrack” mode, which used facial recognition, artificial intelligence, and projection algorithms to stay locked on a subject. As the video continued, the program switched from camera to camera, following the woman in the spiked tiara across the bridge.

She was just passing the statue of St. Augustine when she abruptly stopped. After glancing around as if to confirm she was alone, she removed her tiara and nonchalantly dropped it off the bridge into the waters below. The spear went over next. Then she pulled a white wool cap from her pocket and donned it, tucking her dark hair up inside it. Finally, she removed her black jacket, revealing a heavy red sweater beneath it. She folded the coat and set it like an offering at the base of the statue of St. Augustine, a common site at which to leave donations for the homeless or those in need.

Now transformed, the woman took an abrupt left turn, disappearing down a narrow staircase that clung to the outer wall of the bridge and connected to the west bank of the river. Whoever this chameleon was, she apparently did not want to be followed.

Dana fast-forwarded through the archived footage, following the woman at high speed across the cobblestone plaza outside Liechtenstein Palace…past Museum Kampa with its bizarre outdoor installation of three giant bronze babies with barcode stamps for faces…and finally deep into Kampa Park, where she wandered awhile before buying a coffee at a kiosk. While sitting on a bench and sipping the hot brew, she received a phone call.