The Furies Read Online Free PDF Page B

in a pale blue tunic with three gold stars on his collar and an impressive array of medals on his chest, and Gabriel had watched as Potiorek skilfully worked the room: one minute clapping old friends on the back, the next shaking hands with others, and then cracking a joke and laughing before moving on to the next person. He was clearly very pleased, as well he might be; he had invited the Archduke to Sarajevo for this three-day visit and so far it had all gone swimmingly. On the Friday and Saturday the Archduke had observed the two corps of the 6 th Army undertake military exercises in the hills outside Sarajevo: the 15 th Corp had defended the northern camp whilst the 16 th held the southern one. During competitive war games like these mishaps were fairly common, but Gabriel was only called upon to deal with a few minor injuries: several sprained ankles from the rocky terrain chosen for the exercise; one broken arm and concussion when a gun carriage overturned whilst cornering on a steep track; a nasty perforated gangrenous appendicitis, which he had personally removed; and three cases of acute urinary distress due to venereal infection. Probably gonorrhoea, Gabriel thought, as all three soldiers had visited the same brothel whilst on leave the previous weekend. But apart from these incidents the manoeuvres had gone well.
    â€˜Yes indeed, Peter. General Potiorek seemed very pleased with the visit so far…ah, here we are.’
    They had arrived at Moritz Schiller’s café on the corner of Franz Josef Strasse where it intersected the Appel Quay embankment. The pavements on both sides of the embankment were already lined with spectators, and the Latin Bridge, which spanned the Miljacka River, was teeming with onlookers jostling for the best positions to view the royal couple. Gabriel could only see two uniforms on the bridge; Flieger scanned the crowd for a moment, and then turned to him with a quizzical look.
    â€˜Not many gendarmes on duty.’
    â€˜At the Archduke’s request,’ Gabriel replied, with a twinge of concern. ‘It’s the duchess’s first royal tour and – according to Colonel Harrach – the Archduke thinks that too large a security presence might alarm her.’
    Flieger looked surprised ‘I’d have thought that too
little
a presence would be more alarming.’ He shrugged. ‘Anyway I’d better go, or I’ll be late.’
    â€˜Who else is on duty with you?’
    â€˜Major Arnstein.’
    â€˜Good. Well, enjoy your shift, Peter. I’ll see you tomorrow.’
    Flieger nodded, then turned away and hurried west along the embankment in the direction of the garrison hospital. Gabriel watched him disappear from sight and then stood on the corner for a moment, squinting slightly into the sunlight as he studied the crowd on the bridge ahead. He had, of course, been given a full itinerary for the visit, but officially he was off duty: there was to be no fuss, General Potiorek had repeatedly emphasised to him and Chief Fischer at their last meeting. However, Gabriel was still uneasy at the low-key security for the visit. As Colonel Harrach had said last night, it hardly seemed adequate. What if there were protests from Serbians in the crowd? Gabriel had felt slightly ill at ease on waking that morning and now, looking at the sparse police presence, he felt even more unsettled. But was there any point in worrying? Probably not: he and the chief had followed their orders to the letter, the garrison hospital was on full alert, and Flieger and Arnstein – both capable surgeons – were on duty. Anyway, his priority now was caffeine. So he turned and walked into the café, hearing the gentle pinging of an entry bell as the door swung open, and being greeted with the delicious aroma of freshly ground coffee.
    The café was unusually empty and only one table was occupied, by two older women gossiping over cake and coffee. The walls of the