The Martyr’s Curse

Chapter Fifty-Five

At precisely 11.58 that morning, Bezirksgefängnis Altdorf waved a relieved farewell to its former inmate Miki Donath. Guards stood by, trying not to smile with pleasure, and Governor Heckethorn watched from the safety of his window as the prison van drove out of the gates. Donath was finally off their hands. In two hours or less, he’d be arriving at his new home in Regensdorf, where the stricter regime might keep him in check as he served out the rest of his sentence.

The prison van was manned by a driver and co-driver. It was a simple short-distance transfer, meaning no stops were required, meaning no extra manpower. They cut through the quiet streets of Altdorf and headed out of town, south-eastwards on Seedorferstrasse towards Bahnhofstrasse and then through a series of roundabouts and junctions to catch the A4 motorway heading up towards Zurich and Regensdorf a little way further north.

It never made it as far as the motorway.

The incident would later be described in detail to the Swiss police by a number of badly shaken eye-witnesses, among them a travelling British wine buyer named Greg Turnbull who’d been taking an easy, meandering route through Switzerland with a couple of days in hand before meeting a client in Italy. Turnbull’s police statement related how he’d been driving through the outskirts of Altdorf when his Jaguar had been overtaken by a speeding black Mercedes saloon that had cut him up badly and then swerved unexpectedly and violently across the road, forcing dozens of cars to slam on their brakes. Turnbull’s Jaguar had been among the snarled-up mass of traffic that ended up strewn all over the road.

Forty yards ahead, the Mercedes had skidded to a halt at an angle, blocking the path of an unmarked white van. Turnbull said he’d been vaguely aware of the van’s heavy-built, boxy shape and reinforced window frames with unusually small, thick panes of glass. Only when it had been forced to a standstill did it strike him that it was a prison vehicle. That was when his heart started thumping and he began to realise what he was witnessing. Some drivers had been honking their horns in anger, unaware of the dynamics of the unfolding situation. They quickly stopped after what happened next.

The doors of the black Mercedes opened and two people got out. Turnbull described them accurately as wearing black jackets and ski-masks. One was taller, perhaps six feet or a little under. The other was a few inches shorter and more slightly built. Turnbull wasn’t the only witness who thought it could have been a woman. The two figures strode quickly up to the prison van. The taller one pulled out a handgun and stood in front of the van with the weapon pointed at the windscreen. The second figure produced a hammer, smashing the driver’s window and then yanking open his door.

They bundled the terrified driver out and forced him down on his knees on the road, together with his co-driver. The masked man with the gun stood threateningly over them. Moments later, the second attacker disappeared inside the van, reappearing after a few seconds and then striding briskly to the back doors and hauling them open.

From that point, due to the relative angle of the vehicles, it was unclear exactly what had happened. All that the witness statements could verify was that the single prisoner the van had been transporting had been quickly, efficiently transferred into the black Mercedes. Turnbull only caught a glimpse of the man, late thirties, jeans, T-shirt, cropped hair, being manhandled towards the car. The Mercedes then took off at high speed, wheels spinning and leaving trails of rubber on the road. Within seconds it was gone, leaving behind it an empty prison van, two very stunned guards and a whole crowd of shocked onlookers.

None of the witnesses had ever seen a hijack before. And it was unlikely that any of them would do so again in their lifetimes. Especially one so brazenly, swiftly and professionally carried out in broad daylight. Long after Turnbull and the others had finished giving their statements and been released to go their separate ways, the police still had no clue as to who could have snatched the violent offender Miki Donath so soon after his departure from Bezirksgefängnis Altdorf.

The search for the missing prisoner was soon underway. It wouldn’t take long to find him.