Belgrade Noir

The Criminal Investigation Bureau, every day throughout all of Belgrade, prevents violence, arson, and vile homicides that many believe could be committed today and go unpunished, under the veil of war, poverty, and limited access. Nothing can surprise the well-prepared detectives from all seven of the Belgrade quarters. They’ve seen all sorts of riffraff and vagabonds, even before the Germans seized control of Belgrade. And yet, one brutal and ferocious murder before the eyes of hundreds of spectators surprised even the most seasoned police officer of the First Belgrade Precinct.

The drama

Elga by Gerhart Hauptmann was staged at the newly reopened National Theater. In one scene, a confirmed bachelor, played by the actor Miodrag Marinković Baća, alias Dude, is waiting for his sweetheart, but there is no sign of her. The bachelor twiddles his thumbs, smooths the lapels of his frock coat, and, in the end, dozes off. The bride is due to appear, trailed by a flood of audience laughter, and poses many daunting questions to which the snoring bachelor has no answers. This is how it happened, except that the bachelor did not snore as written in the script, rather he fell “dead asleep.” One after the other, her questions went unanswered. Silence. According to the script the bachelor is supposed to startle and jump — but he didn’t move. The prompters were puzzled, the stage manager didn’t know what to do; the actors started improvising, until suddenly, Dude fell from the chair, blood running from his lips, completely soiling his coat.

As a result, the National Theater audience certainly witnessed the most vile murder of 1942. As we have been informed, the case was assigned to the best detective in the First Belgrade Precinct, Miodrag Mika Golubjev, who arrived at the crime scene in no time and forbade spectators from leaving the grand hall of the recently reopened theater. Word has it that throughout the night he questioned the audience — member by member — and only in the wee hours did he begin interrogating the actors.

The set designer Vladimir Žedrinski, a refugee from Russia, muttered something in Russian and the composer Mihovil Logar, a refugee from Slovenia, said something in Slovenian. The others rattled on in some unknown language. Out of those potentially involved in the crime, only the director, Dr. Erich Hetzel, was missing from the scene. Thus, this experienced policeman immediately had a suspect; he tossed away his toothpick, called it a day, and went home to get a few hours of sleep.

We will inform our loyal readers as to how the event unfolds.