Calgary, July 2022
Disclaimer: Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.
The only famous person I ever knew, Iva, died recently by falling down the stairs. It was all over the newspapers. I couldn’t understand why she would fall like that. Iva was athletic, in her youth she exceled as a ski racer, and certainly didn’t have any problems with balance. Skiing was also the reason why I knew her. In my youth I was a part time ski instructor helping with the ski races, and Iva was a member of the Czech women national team. I always liked to watch her training; it was a pleasure to see Iva going through the slalom gates. I also met her few times at the Prague university, where she was studying Physical Education. But then I emigrated to Canada and never saw her again.
After her death the newspapers printed Iva’s whole life story. I found out that she also moved to Canada, then to US, married a rich man and became a celebrity. Her husband got involved in politics, they divorced, she got a huge alimony, making her even more famous. She married other men who valued her money more than the woman they married, and then came the news about her death by falling down the stairs. It was declared an accident, but it was hard to believe. Why should a former ski racer in good health fall like this? It looked suspicious. Then I remembered, there was a similar case which happened in Edmonton five years ago. A woman, Jana Robánek, died falling down the stairs and her husband, George Robánek, was charged with murder. The interesting thing was that according to the investigation, Jana was also a former Czech ski racer. This was too much of the coincidence and I decided to investigate. After all, investigation is my job, I work as a journalist for the Edmonton Journal.
The obvious start was to look at the details of the court case against George Robánek. He was acquitted for the lack of evidence, but there was strong case against him. The main witness of the prosecution, Dr. Young, testified that Jana was killed before she fell down the stairs. He was sure that her death was not caused by the fall. Therefore, I arranged a meeting with him so that I could ask some questions.
“Dr Young”, I introduced myself, “I am a journalist investigating the death of Jana Robánek. In your report you expressed doubts that she died by falling down the stairs.”
“Yes, she was killed. The severity of her injury couldn’t be caused by such a fall.”
“Therefore, you think that George Robánek got away with murder.”
“Yes.”
“Why would he do that? Why would he kill his wife?”
“He inherited her house.”
“And he sold the house, got the money and disappeared,” I concluded.
“You are right,” said the doctor.
It all started to make sense. I read more about the case, and the name George Robánek sounded vaguely familiar. Then I remembered. Jiří Robánek was one of the instructors working at the same ski school as I did. He just changed his Czech name Jiří to English George. Now it started to make even more sense. Jana, as I found out, came to Canada shortly after the Russian invasion of Czechoslovakia, got married to a Canadian who later left her for a younger model, and she ended up lonely in a big house. Perhaps there was some romance between her and Jiří during their ski days, perhaps they kept in contact after Jana’s emigration to Canada, I don’t know. But I do know that Jiří Robánek immigrated to Canada shortly after the fall of the old Czech government, changed his name, moved to Edmonton, and married Jana. The rest you already know.
The next piece of the puzzle was the link between the Jana’s murder and the death of Iva. The circumstances were similar: dying by falling down the stairs. Presuming that Iva was also murdered by the same man, there were two questions: What was the motif and how was Iva's death linked to that motive. The answer to the first question was simple: the motif was money. The second question needed investigation and the first step was to find out how George Robánek would benefit from Iva’s death. As it turned out, he wouldn’t. There was no link between him and Iva. But there was one person who would benefit from Iva’s death, her first husband Andrei Wilfred. He was an Austrian ski instructor who met Iva while she was still ski racing. Apparently, it was a marriage of love. After the Russian invasion, they moved to Canada and had a ski boutique together. But then came a heartbreak for Andrei. Iva traded him for a rich businessman and Andrei was left alone with a boutique on the verge of bankruptcy. The rich businessman was a public figure, Iva’s wedding was a social event, and the newspapers were asking Iva unpleasant questions:
“You left your husband who loved you for a man with money. Why did you do that?”
“I wanted to start a new chapter of my life, but I will always love Andrei. I will never forget him. Not even after I die.”
“Does that mean that you will include him in your testament?”
“Yes.”
So, here it was, black and white. Iva will include Andrei in her testament. This was good news for Andrei. The boutique went bankrupt and ski instructing is not very profitable, especially as one gets older. Andrei needed all the help he could get, but Iva was healthy, and it would take a long time before her testament could be implemented. Unless somebody speeds things up.
As I mentioned, Andrei met Iva during her ski racing days and surely must have known her ski racing crowd. Maybe he even met me and Jiří Robánek. It is also probable that Andrei knew about Jiří’s murder case, and that might have given him an idea. If somebody can get away with murder once, he might get away with it twice. That gave Andrei good reason to talk to Jiří. I don’t know how he got his address, perhaps from the newspapers. The murder trial was extensively covered. So, perhaps Andrei invited Jiří to come to see him, to talk about the old times. And perhaps he also suggested something which could benefit them both. But all that was just my theory. I needed a proof, and for that I had to talk to Andrei Wilfred. Newspapers published some information about him which helped me to locate his address, and I sent him a touching note. I introduced myself as Iva’s old ski friend who wants to write a book about her, and that I want to talk to people who were close to her. To make it little sweeter for him, I mentioned that his love for Iva will be well commented in my book and this would give him some badly needed exposure. Not surprisingly, Andrei invited me for a visit.
Our meeting started on a friendly note. We talked about the old days, about how great skier Iva was, and then I started the important part of our conversation.
“Do you know anybody else who knew her? Somebody from the old ski crowd I could talk to?”
“No, I don’t. I lost touch with everybody.”
“What about Jiří Robánek? He was my friend. You know anything about him?”
When I mentioned the name, for a split-second Andrei’s face showed a sign of panic, and that was enough for me. I was on the right track.
“No, I don’t” he replied, and the warm feeling of our chatting cooled down considerably.
The last part of my investigation concentrated on Andrei’s and Jirí’s finances. If my theory was correct, shortly after Iva’s death there would be a large deposit into Andrei Wilfred account, and then half of it would go to Jiří’s account. Being a journalist, I know the right people, and a friendly computer hacker confirmed everything I suspected. He even gave me Jiří’s address. Therefore, one evening I rang the bell at his door.
“Hello Jiří,” I said in Czech. “Long time since we talked the last time.”
He appeared startled. “What are you doing here?”
“I want to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“It would be better to talk about it inside. Will you let me in?”
We went to his apartment, and he asked again: “What do you want to talk about?”
“About the two murders you did.”
He looked at me furiously and shouted: “Get out of here!”
“I can leave if you want, but I know that you got money from Andrei Wilfred, and the police might be interested to know it too.” Then I told him the date and the amount he received from Andrei Wilfred. Jiří was silent and then asked: “Did you come to blackmail me?”
“No, I didn’t. And I am not going to talk to the police either. I just want you to know that I know. And in case you are thinking about killing me too, my friend has a record of everything. Have a nice, relaxing rest of the evening,” and with that I left.
At home I was thinking about Iva and the life she had chosen. Then I wrote epitaph which I thought would be appropriate for her: In memory of Iva, who lived dangerously.