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The killers of Zoran Djindjic, it turns out, had quite a plan. It started with the death of the Serbian Prime Minister on March 12, but did not end there. After the Djindjic hit, the conspirators planned to lie low while the government teetered; then they would strike again — first Foreign Minister Goran Svilanovic, then two top Djindjic aides. As panic spread, the special forces unit known as the Red Berets — some of whose commanders carried out the Djindjic murder — would step forward, posing as guardians of the peace. They would urge calm, and dispatch letters to local politicians and foreign diplomats offering their "assistance" against the wave of "terrorism." The government would be forced to step down, and allies of Slobodan Milosevic's bloody regime would volunteer to fill the vacuum. Serbia would return to nationalist rule.

That's the picture police in Belgrade painted for Time last week as they wrapped up their investigation into the Djindjic murder and prepared for a trial that begins in July. It's an apocalyptic scenario, perhaps, but the plan stood a 50% chance of success, according to Nenad Milic, Deputy Interior Minister and leader of the police investigation. "They believed that the police would stay put and not step out of the box," Milic told Time. Instead, the assassination produced a massive crackdown against criminal elements of the old regime still operating in Serbia's security forces, as well as a broader — and equally overdue — attack on organized crime. Codenamed Operation Sabre, it was the largest police investigation in Serbian history.

As police began sending their evidence — literally by the truckload — to the special prosecutor's office, the list of those charged in the assassination lengthened from 15 to 45. An additional 3,500, many of them linked to the Djindjic conspirators, face charges ranging from drug trafficking to murder. The sweep turned up new evidence against Slobodan Milosevic and his wife, Mira, and shed light on dozens of unsolved murders. A special courtroom to handle the cases is being built in downtown Belgrade, complete with secret booths and bullet-proof glass. "Nothing was ever done so well in this country," says Rajko Danilovic, a prominent defense lawyer in Belgrade. Human-rights investigator Natasa Kandic calls the probe, "The first serious attack on the roots of the Milosevic regime."