Read The Doctor Dines in Prague Online
Authors: Robin Hathaway
The Doctor Dines in Prague (12 page)
P
andemonium broke out. Candles were knocked to the floor. The odor of smoke and melting wax engulfed them. There was a real threat of clothing catching fire and people being trampled, as they stumbled and groped their way through the darkness. Fenimore hung on to Jennifer's hand with a fierce grip. The only things visible were the choir boys' white tunics, which glowed with a faint luminescence among the darker clothing.
andemonium broke out. Candles were knocked to the floor. The odor of smoke and melting wax engulfed them. There was a real threat of clothing catching fire and people being trampled, as they stumbled and groped their way through the darkness. Fenimore hung on to Jennifer's hand with a fierce grip. The only things visible were the choir boys' white tunics, which glowed with a faint luminescence among the darker clothing.
As Fenimore and Jennifer emerged from the cathedral, a strong authoritative voice behind them shouted something in Czech. There were gasps and shocked expressions on all the faces around them.
“What's he saying?” Fenimore asked the people nearby. No one paid any attention to him. It was so frustrating not to be able to understand the language. It prevented him from pursuing his mission. He was stymied. A double wall of secrecyâthe mystery itself and the language barrier were like a brick wall lined with a lead wall. He would penetrate the bricks, only to run up against the lead. He realized what it was like to be deaf: frustrated and isolated. He kept asking what had happened until someone who spoke English finally answered him: “The royal crown. It's been stolen!”
Fenimore stopped, causing Jennifer to stop, too. He still gripped her hand. He scanned the crowd. A few feet ahead, he had spied a large blonde woman, her hair pulled back with a comb. Her companion, a small, dark-haired man, turned at that moment and looked over his shoulder; he wore granny glasses and a trim goatee. The woman was lugging a bulging, blue tote bag that appeared to be heavy.
“See that couple?” Fenimore pointed them out to Jennifer.
She nodded, recognizing Ilsa at once.
“Don't let them out of your sight.”
She nodded.
It was easy for Fenimore and Jennifer to stay out of sight in the crowd, but it was not easy to keep their quarry in view. They bobbed up and down, disappearing and reappearing. The strain of not losing them was intense. Fenimore kept his eyes on Ilsa's tote bag. As they approached the gates, the guards, who by now had been alerted to the theft, tried to prevent people from leaving. But there were not enough of them to hold the gates against the crowd. It overwhelmed them and reinforcements had not yet arrived. Ilsa and Redik made it through. Fenimore and Jennifer slipped out after them.
Once in the open plaza, there was more room and the crowd began to disperse. Redik paused to confer with Ilsa. They seemed to be having an argument over her tote bag. A mild tug-of-war ensued. They separated, heading in opposite directions. Ilsa turned back toward Golden Lane, and Redik continued straight ahead toward the steps that led down to Malá Strana. Redik had the tote bag.
“You follow Ilsa. I'll take Redik,” Fenimore told Jennifer. “Don't let her see you. And
don't
confront her. Just find out where she goes. Then go back to the hotel. I'll meet you there.” He hurried after Redik.
don't
confront her. Just find out where she goes. Then go back to the hotel. I'll meet you there.” He hurried after Redik.
F
or once the weather report was accurate. It was a perfect day for the zoo. A few other people had thought so, too, Mrs. Doyle observed wryly, as she watched the steady stream of parents and children pouring through the wrought-iron gates.
or once the weather report was accurate. It was a perfect day for the zoo. A few other people had thought so, too, Mrs. Doyle observed wryly, as she watched the steady stream of parents and children pouring through the wrought-iron gates.
Come on, kids. Let's pick up our tickets.” She herded Marie and Horatio over to the ticket window. “Two tickets reserved for Dr. Fenimore?” she said politely.
The man smiled and after a brief search handed her a white envelope with the doctor's name on it.
“I'd like to buy one more,” Mrs. Doyle said.
The man gave her another ticket. “That'll be twelve dollars.”
Gracious, how prices had gone up! When she was a child, a trip to the zoo had cost one or two dollars at the most.
Once inside, Marie said, “Can we see the bears first?” She was clutching Jiri tightly.
Mrs. Doyle studied the zoo map that the cashier had given her with the tickets. The bears were located smack in the middle of the zoo grounds. “I think we'd better start at the beginning and visit the animals in order,” she said. “Monkeys first, pachyderms nextâ”
“Huh?” Horatio looked up from his yo-yoing. Lately the toy seemed to be glued to his fingers.
“Elephants,” Mrs. Doyle amended. “Then the lions, and tigersâand bears,” she went on, unaware that she was quoting from
The Wizard of Oz
.
The Wizard of Oz
.
A brown arrow with MONKEYS printed on it in white letters pointed the way. Marie skipped ahead, while Horatio strolled behind. Mrs. Doyle followed more slowly, but was careful not to let them out of her sight. She couldn't rid herself of an uneasy feeling. That e-mail message from the doctor had been so strange.
After the elephants, Mrs. Doyle stopped at a vendor's stall and bought three boxes of Cracker Jack. No visit to the zoo would be complete without burrowing into the sticky, caramel-coated popcorn to find the prize at the bottom. Her father had always bought a box for each child. (Mrs. Doyle was one of a family of eight) and then they would all compare to see who had gotten the best prize. In retrospect she wondered why there hadn't been more fuss over the toys. She put it down to her father's personality. He had had that rare gift of maintaining discipline and good feeling at the same time.
For Marie, this was a new treat. She bored to the bottom of the box and came up with a tiny silver ring. As she slipped it on her pinky finger, she crowed with delight. It was a perfect fit.
Horatio pulled out a little silver frog with a slightly misshapen head. “Kid's stuff,” he muttered, handing it to Marie.
Mrs. Doyle had to admit she was just a big kid. She was getting as much kick out of this as Marie was. Slowly, Mrs. Doyle reached in the box and drew out a miniature silver whistle. She pressed it to her lips and was thrilled when it produced a tiny
peep
. Marie clapped her hands. At a nearby drinking fountain, the nurse washed the whistle and gave it to the child.
peep
. Marie clapped her hands. At a nearby drinking fountain, the nurse washed the whistle and gave it to the child.
As they moved on, Mrs. Doyle saw a scruffy-looking man staring at them. He was leaning against the railing that ringed the Otter Pond. When she caught his eye, he quickly looked away. Marie ran
up to the rail and stared down at the otters. “Look,” she cried, as one otter slid down the sliding-board and landed in the water with a splash. They watched the otters' antics for a while. When they moved on, the scruffy man had disappeared.
up to the rail and stared down at the otters. “Look,” she cried, as one otter slid down the sliding-board and landed in the water with a splash. They watched the otters' antics for a while. When they moved on, the scruffy man had disappeared.
The next sign said BEARS, and Marie chatted with Jiri, in Czech, preparing him for the coming reunion with his relatives. Horatio resumed his yo-yoing. And Mrs. Doyle tried not to think about her feet.
J
ennifer wove through the throng, stretching her neck from time to time to keep Ilsa's blonde head in sight. The other woman was moving rapidly down Golden Lane, as if on an urgent errand.
ennifer wove through the throng, stretching her neck from time to time to keep Ilsa's blonde head in sight. The other woman was moving rapidly down Golden Lane, as if on an urgent errand.
Golden Lane was a row of tiny stucco houses built during the reign of Rudolph II, when Bohemia still belonged to the Austrian-Hungarian Empire. According to legend, these houses were occupied by alchemists looking for a magic potion that would turn lead into gold. At one time, Franz Kafka had lived and written in one of these houses. Jennifer would have loved to linger there, but now was not the time to play tourist. She was on a mission.
At the bottom of the lane, Jennifer lost sight of Ilsa. She looked frantically to her right and her left, berating herself for even glancing at the quaint houses on Golden Lane. Finally she spied her quarry, slipping between the trees on the riverbank, heading toward a bridge. Not the Charles Bridgeâanother one, that was not as crowded.
Now Jennifer worried about her cover. There were only a few people crossing the bridge and if Ilsa turned, she would see her immediately. At the risk of losing her, Jennifer hung back. At one point Ilsa paused and glanced over her shoulder. Jennifer, who was
about fifty feet behind her, leaned over the railing, pretending a deep fascination in a mallard duck. Ilsa had seen Jennifer once, and only for a minute, at a distance. They hadn't even been in the same room. But Jennifer had recognized Ilsa immediately. Why couldn't Ilsa do the same? Ilsa turned back and continued walking. Jennifer breathed easier. But she must be careful.
about fifty feet behind her, leaned over the railing, pretending a deep fascination in a mallard duck. Ilsa had seen Jennifer once, and only for a minute, at a distance. They hadn't even been in the same room. But Jennifer had recognized Ilsa immediately. Why couldn't Ilsa do the same? Ilsa turned back and continued walking. Jennifer breathed easier. But she must be careful.
They continued their cat-and-mouse routine until Ilsa paused at a bus stop. This was not good. How could Jennifer get on the same bus with Ilsa without being seen? Answer: She couldn't. She would have to get a cab and follow the bus. But cabs were not plentiful in this neighborhood. In fact, Jennifer had not seen one since she had left the bridge. Impatient with the poor bus service, Ilsa moved on. Good. Jennifer prayed she would keep walking. The path they were following was lined with trees and thick shrubbery. If Ilsa decided to turn around, Jennifer could easily duck behind a tree or shrub. Ilsa didn't turn. She kept walking for three long blocks. The neighborhood began to change, from park-like to more urban. The trees grew sparser and some commercial buildings began to sprout up. A bank. A dress shop. On the next corner was a supermarket. Smaller than your average American market, but with a row of self-service carts lined up in front. To Jennifer's dismay, Ilsa went inside.
R
edik moved fast. Fenimore had a hard time keeping up with him. His motion was like that of a dancer or acrobatâfluid and swift. Fenimore remembered that Redik had moved his marionettes with the same dexterity. The tote bag didn't hinder him.
edik moved fast. Fenimore had a hard time keeping up with him. His motion was like that of a dancer or acrobatâfluid and swift. Fenimore remembered that Redik had moved his marionettes with the same dexterity. The tote bag didn't hinder him.
The streets were full in Mala Strana. But the crowd had broken up into smaller clusters and people were talking excitedly about the theft. Fenimore understood a few exclamations.
“Zlod
j!”
(
“Thief!”
) and
“Policie!”
(
“Police!”
), but most of it sounded like gibberish to him. Redik was heading for the Charles Bridge. Fenimore had no trouble keeping out of sight. Most of the people were heading in the same direction. He had trouble keeping Redik in sight, however. The man was wily, and disappeared easily. Midway across the bridge, Fenimore thought he had lost him. But he caught sight of him again near the Old Bridge Tower, the one he had climbed with Ilsa the day before. Keeping his eyes fixed on the back of Redik's head, he was startled to see him make a sharp turn into the tower.
Oh my god. How can I follow him now?
Fenimore hesitated, his hand on the door.
“Zlod
j!”(
“Thief!”
) and
“Policie!”
(
“Police!”
), but most of it sounded like gibberish to him. Redik was heading for the Charles Bridge. Fenimore had no trouble keeping out of sight. Most of the people were heading in the same direction. He had trouble keeping Redik in sight, however. The man was wily, and disappeared easily. Midway across the bridge, Fenimore thought he had lost him. But he caught sight of him again near the Old Bridge Tower, the one he had climbed with Ilsa the day before. Keeping his eyes fixed on the back of Redik's head, he was startled to see him make a sharp turn into the tower.
Oh my god. How can I follow him now?
Fenimore hesitated, his hand on the door.
“You goin' up or what?” demanded an American tourist, draped in a backpack and multiple cameras.
“Uh ⦠.”
“They tell me this is one of the best views of the city.” The man pushed past him.
Fenimore followed cautiously.
T
he smaller brown bears were the ones that bore the closest resemblance to Jiri. Marie held the teddy bear over the rail and made him wave his paw vigorously. At one point the bear slipped and almost had a more intimate visit with his relatives. But Horatio reached out and grabbed him in the nick of time.
he smaller brown bears were the ones that bore the closest resemblance to Jiri. Marie held the teddy bear over the rail and made him wave his paw vigorously. At one point the bear slipped and almost had a more intimate visit with his relatives. But Horatio reached out and grabbed him in the nick of time.
After watching the keeper feed the bears, Horatio announced, “I'm hungry.”
“Me too,” echoed Marie.
Mrs. Doyle escorted them to the picnic ground where they bought hot dogs, hamburgers, and sodas. When she saw the prices she fervently wished she had packed them a lunch. Too late now. They settled down on a bench at a long picnic table and removed the foil from their sandwiches.
At these prices, the foil should be sterling silver,
Mrs. Doyle thought,
and the sodas liquid gold.
As she took her first bite, she saw that man again. The one from the Otter Pond. He was eating at a table a few yards away. Well, that wasn't too unusual. People moved at a similar pace. It was the same in the supermarket; you kept running into the same shoppers over and over in the aisles. She relaxed and concentrated on her burger.
At these prices, the foil should be sterling silver,
Mrs. Doyle thought,
and the sodas liquid gold.
As she took her first bite, she saw that man again. The one from the Otter Pond. He was eating at a table a few yards away. Well, that wasn't too unusual. People moved at a similar pace. It was the same in the supermarket; you kept running into the same shoppers over and over in the aisles. She relaxed and concentrated on her burger.
Horatio finished first and began playing with his yo-yo. He was
so good at it, he attracted a little crowd of spectators. When he completed one especially elaborate trick, they even clapped. Mrs. Doyle was sorry he hadn't brought a hat. He could have set it out and collected enough to pay for their lunch.
so good at it, he attracted a little crowd of spectators. When he completed one especially elaborate trick, they even clapped. Mrs. Doyle was sorry he hadn't brought a hat. He could have set it out and collected enough to pay for their lunch.
After a while Horatio pocketed his toy and the crowd dispersed. Reluctant to get to her feet again, Mrs. Doyle prolonged her respite by eating slowly and sending the children off to buy ice cream. She was wrapping up their trash when she heard a commotion at the other end of the park. Quickly looking that way, she was horrified to see Horatio grappling with a man much bigger than himself. The man from the Otter Pond. To see Mrs. Doyle cover the ground between the table and Horatio, you would think she had the fittest feet in the universe. As she drew near, the man seemed to be getting the best of the boy. Marie cowered on a bench, eyes wide. Now and then she smacked her fist into her palm and cried, “Get him, Rat! Get him!”
Mrs. Doyle was about to enter the fray when Horatio freed himself and stepped back. There was a hiss, followed by a
thwack
, and the man fell to the ground.
thwack
, and the man fell to the ground.
Marie ran over to look at him.
“What's going on?” Mrs. Doyle grabbed each child by one arm.
“He tried to snatch Marie!” Horatio said, between pants. Sweat poured down his face, and, now that the danger was past, he looked scared.
“What in the world did you do to him?” Mrs. Doyle was relieved to see the man's foot move. For a minute she had been afraidâ
“He hit him in the head with his yo-yo!” Marie stared at Horatio with awe.
“Good grief.” Stirred by visions of David and Goliath, Mrs. Doyle patted the boy on the back. “Good for you, Rat!”
Turning, she saw a small crowd descending on them, a security guard leading the pack.
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