Heydrich thinks about it. He realizes his life is at risk, and that time is not on his side, so he agrees instead to summon the best specialist working at the German clinic in Prague. He is taken back to the operating room. Karl Hermann Frank and the first members of the Czech government are beginning to arrive. The little local hospital is busier than it’s ever been, or ever will be again.
Kubiš keeps looking over his shoulder but he is not being followed. He’s done it. But what exactly? He hasn’t killed Heydrich, who seemed perfectly fine when he left him, spraying bullets at Gabčík. Nor has he helped Gabčík, who looked in serious difficulty, with his jammed Sten. As for putting himself out of danger, he is well aware that this is only a provisional escape. The manhunt will begin any minute, and they won’t have much trouble describing who they’re looking for: a man on a bike with an injured face. He could hardly be any more conspicuous. Once again he is faced with a dilemma: the bicycle allows him to escape more quickly but it also makes him easier to find. Kubiš decides to dump it. He thinks while he’s riding. Bypass the curve in Holešovice Street, and leave the bike outside the Bata shoe shop in the old Libeň district. It would have been better to move to a different district, but each passing second outside increases the likelihood of him being arrested. That’s why he decides to seek refuge with his nearest contact—the Novak family. Inside the workers’ apartment building, he climbs the stairs four at a time. A female neighbor calls out: “Are you looking for someone?” He clumsily hides his face.
“Mrs. Novak.”
“She’s not here just now, but she should be back soon.”
“I’ll wait.”
Kubiš knows that good Mrs. Novak never locks her door, precisely in case he or one of his friends turns up. He enters the apartment and throws himself on the sofa. It’s the first respite he’s had on this very long and very testing morning.
The hospital on Bulovka now looks like a cross between the Reich Chancellery, Hitler’s bunker, and the Gestapo headquarters. Shock SS troops are posted around, inside, above, and beneath the building; enough of them to take on a Soviet tank division. Everyone waits for the surgeon. Karl Frank chain-smokes cigarettes as if he’s about to become a father. In fact, he’s brooding: he ought to inform Hitler.
The town is in pandemonium: uniformed men run in all directions. There is a great deal of agitation to very little purpose. Had Gabčík and Kubiš wanted to leave the city by taking the train from Wilson Station (although it’s no longer called that) during the first two hours after the attack, they could have done so without any difficulties.
Having got off to a bad start, Gabčík now has fewer problems. He has to get hold of a raincoat—because the description of him broadcast by the Germans will doubtless mention that he doesn’t have one, having dropped his next to the Mercedes—but on the other hand he has no injuries at all, visible or otherwise. He runs until he reaches the Žižkov district, where he stops to catch his breath and calm down. He buys a bouquet of violets and calls at the apartment of Professor Zelenka, a member of the Jindra Resistance group. He hands the bouquet of violets to Mrs. Zelenka, borrows a raincoat, then leaves. Either that or he borrows the coat from the Svatoš family, who have already lent him their briefcase—which he also dropped at the scene of the crime. But the Svatošes live farther away, near Wenceslaus Square. At this point in the narrative the witness accounts are unclear, and I’m a bit lost. Somehow he ends up at the Fafeks’ place, where a nice hot bath is waiting for him, along with his young fiancée, Libena. What they do, what they say, I have no idea. But Libena knew all about the assassination attempt. She must have been very happy to see him alive again.