Božena Kostihová

"Around Christmas, Radim had already been transferred to the remand centre in Litoměřice, and suddenly a letter arrived for my son. He and the parish priest were friends. The letter was sent from Most and was written in pencil. At that time, Major Fiedler came to my house. He came to get his typewriter, which they had not taken away at that time. I asked him if Radim had been in Most, because I had received a letter from Most. He told me that he had sent it himself, that Radim had written it already in the prison in Litoměřice, and that he had asked if he could send it. So he took it to his place and dropped it in the mailbox in Most. He also smuggled cigarettes to Radim's prison, and I sent him a package from home. But I think if I had given him twenty crowns, he would have bought them. Major Fiedler wasn't such a bastard. Then I found out he had a drinking problem."

"So we drove behind the cemetery, I took the stuff and put it in Radim's car. We got in and, hello, there were policemen there. They checked Radim and asked him why one stamp on his driver's license was brown and not black. Radim replied that they probably just had a brown pad. The policeman told him that we would go with them, that they had to check it out. So we went to the police. Radim was taken away. And they took me home, about four of them. They were standing outside the apartment and I asked why they were coming to us, that I wanted to see some paper - and they pulled out a search warrant. I saw the name of the bookbinder, that it was because of her, the signature of the prosecutor and the stamp, I knew that should be there. So I told them to come in. That day my kids were sick, they were home in bed. I told them to go to their room, and prepared for coffee. I had the biggest fear of my life. I didn't know what was going to happen, the kids were here, it was a crazy fear. Suddenly I thought, I'm not going to make them coffee. So I turned off the water. Because Radim sometimes had money at our house, ten thousand, for example, I just told my daughter that there was an envelope with money in the first drawer in the living room and to take it to her. So she took it, and she carried the envelope behind her trousers all day. They'd roll up their gloves and go for the mugs, the books, occasionally grab something. They picked up, for instance, Jack London's book, The White Fang, and next to that was Arthur London's Confessions, and they left that there because they thought it was the other London."