III THE LONG VERSION
Tuesday 5th February 1923
Disappointment: Standing on the front doorstep to Dr Goran Belanzada’s house, Letty tugs at the pullbell. In answer to the ring a young lady opens the door. She is Dr Belanzada’s niece. As our only Croat speaker, Jazmina steps forward to enquire whether the doctor is at home. Unfortunately, no. Her uncle is at work, at the Opća Bolnica (Vinkovci General Hospital). Jazmina presses the girl about Dr. Moric. We’re informed that yes, Dr Moric is staying at the house, but he went out three days ago and has failed to return. The girl confirms that Moric’s clothes and other effects are still in the guest room. Before leaving, Ludwig presents his card to the young lady, having first penned the name of our current hotel on the reverse. If we should miss Dr Belanzada later at the hospital, perhaps he would be good enough to telephone us this evening.
A hole in the ground: Next, we decide to make an overdue visit to the dig site at the Crusader’s Tomb. To the north of Vinkovci, on a building site adjacent to a small school we come to the dig. The area is fairly isolated and surrounded by a temporarily erected perimeter fence. Letty picks the padlock and chain securing the crude gate and we enter unseen. The dig has clearly been closed down but the entrance remains readily accessible; beneath a tarpaulin is a hole in the ground, a shaft with a ladder descending to its bottom.
Afraid of the dark: Hubert begins to make nervous excuses. His growing fear of the dark prevents him from following his companions to the lip of the hole. He is adamant that he’s going to wait above ground. Ludwig reassures Hubert that there is nothing to fear in the shadows other than that which his own imagination alone creates. Hubert blinked. Ludwig continued. He encouraged Hubert and asserted that armed with flashlights we shall dispel the gloom and release Hubert from the fetters of his emasculated mind. Hubert, not exactly sure what Ludwig was waffling about and not wanting to be subjected to any further waffle, took a deep breath and climbed down the ladder.
The antechamber: From the bottom of the shaft we stepped into a subterranean chamber. It was empty, though on its wall was a superb mosaic depicting the archangel, St Michael. A stout oak and iron bound door of indeterminable age was set into one wall. The door opened into a second chamber.
The Vault: The second chamber was t-shaped so that together with the rectangular antechamber they formed the shape of a cross. Here was the obvious focus of the archaeological dig. There were obvious signs of recent activity and vacant shelves and niches. Out of the walls of the main body were carved large recesses, a catacomb for the remains of centuries-dead crusader knights. At one of these recesses, Pierre rubbed away the accumulation of dust and cobwebs from a stone marker. The stone was inscribed with the name, Brother David. Other stones set into the walls identified the remains of Reynaud of Flanders, Gilles de la Grave and Martinus de L’Isle.
The Sarcophagus: The centrepiece of the vault is a small stone sarcophagus, merely three feet long, carved with imagery of angels battling demons. The lead-lined sarcophagus had already been opened and emptied of any contents it once held. The stone lid, carved with an image of St. Michael defeating Lucifer, was propped against the wall nearby. On the underside of the lid is set a stone relief carved with a symbol. Ludwig recognised it as an elder sign, a protective ward against evil. Ludwig now realised the similarity to the symbol carved on the polished stone, the Barrier of St. Gabriel, that Hubert took from the strongbox yesterday. Beneath the ward on the sarcophagus lid is a Latin inscription: pestiferam lugubrem unguem anguis tollere noli—“remove not the serpent’s claw, bringer of pestilence and sorrow". The sarcophagus is empty. There is no knife. Everything worth taking from the vault has already been removed.
Opća Bolnica: We stop for lunch on the way to the hospital. Hospitals are Ludwig’s domain. It is a little after two o’clock when Ludwig, marches with glorious Teutonic pomp (quietly humming his own accompanying marching band music) up to the reception desk, harrumphs, clicks his heels and demands an audience with the good Doctor Belanzada. Ludwig’s air of arrogance fails to impress and it’s left to the decidedly hypnotic allure of the devilishly handsome Nicholas Cartwright (App 80) to charm the receptionist; who almost immediately swooned at his feet. Dr Belanzada, we’re told, only works at the hospital until midday, after which time he’s likely to be found at his private research facility to the north of the town. The receptionist provides us directions and an address.
The not-a-bit creepy clinic: We follow the directions to a rural spot beyond the town limits, and along a tree-lined street we stop outside a high-walled compound. The walls are topped with barbed wire and the tall entrance gates are solid steel. To get a view into the compound, we are forced to stand on the roof of our hire car. Behind the wall and at the end of a private driveway is a collection of converted farm buildings. Ludwig checks to see if the cultist van is anywhere in sight (from the station and this morning’s pursuit). He remembered now the signage on its side: Hovart Braća (Hovart Brothers); with relief the van was nowhere to be seen. However, we soon spy three men walking towards the gate. We have no time to retreat.
Second thoughts: The gate swings open and the men emerge into the lane. They’re evidently surprised to find us standing outside. We are even more surprised by the men now that we can plainly see their physical appearance: one man has a missing right arm, another has a missing left arm and is disfigured by burns, and the third wheezes audibly and has a missing right eye. Originally planning to announce ourselves as visitors, we suddenly get cold feet about wanting to enter the facility. We babble incoherently for a bit until courage returns and we request to brought before Dr Belanzada.
Dr Goran Belanzada: After first checking to see if the doctor will receive us, the three men, all Serbian war veterans in their sixties, lead us into the compound and to an administration office in what is or was evidently a farming cottage--the sounds and smells of farm animals are still evident nearby. We all file in, except for Cartwright, who chose to remain outside in the lane—due to his irrational fear of amputees. We are greeted as unexpected strangers by a bemused Dr Belanzada, a podgy fifty-something with receding hair: “Ladies and gentleman, how might I be of assistance?” We introduce ourselves and apologise for our intrusion. We explain we are trying to find our mutual acquaintance Dr Dragomir Moric, who we know is his house guest. We are most concerned for his welfare.
Troubling news: Realising Moric’s worried daughter is with us, Dr Belanzada talks candidly. He too is concerned for his friend. Dr Moric was furious the other day after reading an article in the Cibalis, a local newspaper. The article he believed tainted his professional name, insinuating that he was removing artefacts in secret from the dig he was working on. Belanzada tried to encourage him to not let things trouble him, but Moric’s mood became darker and his behaviour odd. Then three days ago, in a terrible fit of rage, Dr Moric stormed out of the house and has not returned. Belanzada admits to us that one of his shotguns is missing. Pressed for any thought on where Moric may have gone, Belanzada is unsure; however, his shotguns are used for hunting—it’s possible Dr Moric may have gone to Kunjevci, to clear his mind perhaps. Kunjevci is a wide forested area famed for its hunting trails and its fallow deer and mouflon.
The facility: Before we leave, we ask out of interest, what is it that Dr Belanzada does here? He informs us that his work at the facility involves exciting research—pioneering new surgical techniques of cosmetic reconstruction to benefit maimed war veterans. After thanking him for his time, he arranges for someone to escort us back to the lane.
A telephone call: Back at the lodge, its four o’clock when Letty gets Jazmina to telephone the Cibalis newspaper. She arranges to go over to their offices to discuss the dig site article. Pierre, appears from the bar area, loaded with brandy and preparing to consume more. Hearing that we’re going out again he joyfully volunteers to drive.
Cibalis: In an office above a noisy printing works, with ink-stained floor and walls adorned with photographic images, we wait to be seen. A woman in her thirties, a Miss Odok Biscira, comes to greet us. We ask about the dig site article and its author. Odok is straight-talking and does nothing to hide her disdain for the rival reporter responsible for the article: a trashy young woman named Vesna Femic. Femic authors barely interesting stories with questionable authenticity. A glorified columnist who only gets her stories printed at all because, in Odok’s opinion, Femic is a sleaze with loose morals. Odok is just happy that Femic is out of the way at the moment, disappeared three days ago; probably investigating her next rubbish story. Cartwright smiles, raises one eyebrow and leans in, the power of his irresistible hypnotic charm turned on full to elicit further information. Odok recoils and looks remarkably unimpressed by Cartwright’s moves. Pierre nudges Ludwig and whispers: “Must be a lesbian eh mon ami?*” Letty has more luck in gaining one final morsel of information from Odok—Vesna Femic’s home address.
*The outcome of Jim’s suggestion to the Keeper and subsequent successful roll on his homebrew "f*ck your mates over" skill during Mel’s attempt to roll to charm Odok.
Just because we’re still suspicious: We ask Odok Biscira if she has heard of Dr Goran Belanzada. Very much so it turns out. Belanzada is highly regarded in Vinkovci and the paper has run several articles over the years in praise of his selfless dedication to improving the lives of so many old war veterans.
At the house of Vesna Femic: Running close to curfew, we decide on a quick dash across town to call at the address we’ve been provided for Vesna Femic. We make sure that no-one is following. The address is a small single-storey cottage with a red slate roof. Standing outside the front door we see signs of forced entry. We walk inside. The open plan living and dining area shows obvious evidence of disturbance. We spread out to investigate. There are blood spatters in the main living space and two human incisor teeth on the floor. There are blood spatters too in the bathroom. Ludwig determined that this is the blood of one person, assaulted by blunt force in both rooms. Close to the dining area table there is a vacant discoloured rectangular space on the bare floorboards, a certain sign that a rug habitually was laid here but is now removed. Has the rug perhaps been used to wrap the body of an assault victim?
Notes and papers were stripped from shelves and strewn across the room. The bedroom was in good order, as was a darkroom at the rear of the property—though no photographic equipment other than trays and fluids were present; no cameras, no film and no negatives.
Lazar: Hanging on a coat hook affixed to the rear of the front door, Ludwig notices a jacket. We retrieve a well-worn notebook from a pocket. The last entry in the notebook mentions the name Lazar as the source of information for a latest story. Jazmina recalls that one of her father’s grad students was named Lazar—Lazar Andric. Tucked into the notebook is a handwritten message: “He knows. Fired us and closed down. Summoned daughter. Acting weird. Tell you more tonight at Rose Garden. Same room. L. “
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