Authors: Michael Genelin
She felt a tinge of regret for what she’d done. Then she pictured her grandchild, having fun, no fear in her mind, no terror in her heart. That regret was short-lived.
E
va and Soros were watching Kamin’s house when they saw Jana drive up. It was hard to miss her, still in full uniform, as she walked to the gate with assurance.
Eva was disappointed. “There have been murders in her city, she’s been the target of an assassination attempt, and she still walks around as if she’s the lord of all she surveys.”
Soros disagreed, but only slightly. “She’s required to look confident. She’s a commanding officer. They’re never supposed to show fear. It would send a bad message to the troops.”
“It’ll destroy her one day. Maybe today.”
“Maybe today,” Soros agreed. “If she gives us the opportunity.”
They watched Jana pick the lock on the gate. It came off within seconds.
“She’s very good at that.”
“Professional,” Soros commented.
“She’s going to go inside the house.”
“No question.”
The man they were waiting to “see” was inside the house.
“She doesn’t know he’s inside.”
They looked toward the house. The shutters on the lower windows were all closed. The lawn and bushes were still in reasonable trim, although the yard was unkempt, a few stray pieces of paper lying on it, some leaves blown under a hedge. Jana had entered the yard and was now circling the house. She was on the alert, ready for a surprise if it came.
This time Eva’s comment carried a tone of approval. “She knows the untended appearance of the yard may not be real.”
“We know that she’s resourceful after what happened yesterday at the market.”
“They’re right to want her dead.”
“Soon,” he assured her.
“What will happen inside?”
“It depends on him.”
“You can’t rely on him to do it.”
“Look at her. She’s not sure if the house is occupied. That’s bad. It may give him an edge.”
“It may make her more alert.”
“He’ll know she’s coming in.”
“Yes.”
“It depends on who takes the first shot.”
“It should never depend on that, which is a good reason not to get into these situations: too many imponderables.”
Jana returned to the front door. They watched her attempt to make a cell phone call. Her disappointment was apparent. She put the phone away and stared once more at the house.
“She was calling for officers to back her up,” Eva ventured. “She wasn’t able to reach who she wanted.”
Jana walked to the front door, tried it, then resorted to picking this lock as well.
“She should have waited for the other cops.”
“Yes, but she’s courageous. I admire courage.”
“Courage kills people.”
“Much of the time.”
“Whichever one comes out of the house will then become our business.”
“Everyone may be happy after our day’s work.”
“
I’ll
be happy.”
They watched Jana go inside and settled down to wait for whoever was left alive to emerge.
J
ana put her lockpicks away, pulled out her gun, and shut the door behind her. The house was fully furnished, though there was a light film of dust on the furniture. It confirmed the impression: Kamin had probably left a few days ago. She listened.
Quiet.
She relaxed slightly.
Adonis’s information pointed at Kamin, but according to him there had been a lot of people giving orders; too many of them conflicting. This buttressed her hypothesis that there were two groups. But she could not tell who was on which side. One thing was sure: she had enough now to justify picking up Kamin, an event she had been looking forward to for a long time. So she had come straight from the hospital to the house where she had followed Kamin once before.
Jarov had not answered his cell phone; Seges was out of the question. But she had been too eager to confront Kamin to wait. It was an emotion that every young police officer has to get over in order to survive, she warned herself.
She began to prowl the first floor of the two-story house. She saw nothing unusual until she got to the kitchen. There was a smell of garbage. Jana examined the kitchen garbage pail, pulling out two cans of half-eaten food. She then checked the counters in the kitchen. The one near the garbage didn’t have the same coat of dust on its surface. Somebody was using the house.
Jana went to the door, then used her cell phone again. Jarov answered at last. Jana gave him the house’s address, telling him to pick up another man, even Seges, and come there as quickly as he could: she needed assistance in making an arrest.
She hung up and tried to decide whether to wait. Again, her eagerness to arrest Kamin propelled her out of the kitchen and brought her to the stairway that led to the second floor. The nap on the stairway runner did not show any footprints until she was halfway to the landing. A very large impression of a sole and heel marked the rug. A man was upstairs. Jana cautioned herself once more: he might have heard her prowling around the lower floor.
Jana had a choice: she could back down the stairs with her gun at the ready, or she could continue up to confront whoever she might find. She was already halfway up. Having come this far, she decided to go all the way.
The carpeting helped, but she could not stop the stairs from squeaking. She had almost reached the landing when an arm snaked over the top of the stairs, a gun pointed at her. Guzak’s head appeared. She froze. The man had lain prone at the top of the stairs in wait for someone. He looked surprised to see that it was her.
“No, I’m not Kamin,” Jana said.
His surprise began to fade.
“From the greeting you gave me, I suppose you were going to shoot him. You should be having second thoughts by now. I don’t think you want to kill a police officer, Mr. Guzak.”
The gun continued to point at Jana’s head. She was developing a cramp from standing still, her weight on one foot. But if she moved, Guzak might misconstrue her intention and shoot her. Sweat was beginning to drip down her back.
“I came to arrest Kamin. Perhaps you and I are on the same side.”
The gun did not waver.
“I talked to a prisoner in the hospital. He said Kamin had arranged to kill your brother and your mother. I think he was also responsible for your uncle’s death in Hungary. I’m after them, Mr. Guzak. We can help each other.”
The barrel of the gun wavered for a moment, then steadied, centered on her forehead.
“I tried to get word out on the street that I wanted to talk to you. It would be mutually beneficial. I hope you heard it.”
He nodded slightly.
The cramp in Jana’s leg was becoming unbearable. She willed herself not to move.
“Think about it, Mr. Guzak. I arrested you; you escaped. You didn’t harm anyone during your escape. Not a huge crime.” The pain had become excruciating. “Think about it: you shoot me, the neighbors hear it, they call the police. The police come, that ends your hunt for Kamin.” She did not tell him that Jarov would arrive soon.
“I can offer you a fresh chance to get Kamin. I propose a partnership with the police. If the police are on your side, and you’re on theirs, there’s no way for him to evade us. We’ll have him in a box. The man who murdered your mother and brother will be taken down.”
The pain had become unbearable. She had to change position.
“I’m going to sit on the steps while we talk, Mr. Guzak. My back will be to you. You’ll still be able to shoot me if you wish. However, before you do, I’d like to tell you about my plans, so please listen.” She slowly began to shift position. The relief was enormous. She kneaded her calves and thighs.
“I’ll describe the evidence I already have, and how you fit into it. If I am wrong, I want you to correct me. At the end of our conversation, I’ll tell you how you can help. Is that understood, and acceptable to you?”
She waited a few seconds to let him digest the proposal.
“If my mother and brother had been murdered, I’d do anything to avenge myself on the people who killed them. Think. You’ll never have a chance like this again. You and I can do it.”
Guzak grunted. Jana took it for a “yes.”
Twenty minutes later, Jana walked out of the house with Guzak, just as Jarov and Seges drove up. They put Guzak in their car, Jana got into hers, and they drove away.
There had been too many police officers at the scene for Soros and Eva to go after their prey. They could only watch them drive off, untouched.
They were not happy.
J
ana called Andras in Hungary and gave him the address for Solti she’d obtained from the hotel in Kathmandu. She asked Andras to check it out. If Solti had any personal belongings there, she asked Andras to forward them to her as quickly as possible.
The connection between Kamin and the two Borydas was tenuous at best. Their link had to be money, dirty money. The rule in all corruption cases is to follow the money. Sofia had told Jana that the Party needed financing, and that Kamin was going to provide it. Jana needed to talk to Sofia again, to persuade Sofia to tell her where the linkages were between Kamin and the Borydas.
Sofia’s love affair had gone bad, had clouded her judgment and her honesty. But if anyone could sway Sofia, Jana could. She drove to Sofia’s house, then walked around to the side where Sofia’s office was, once again climbing the stairs, hoping that this time she would be more successful.
She knocked on the door to the office, then walked in without waiting for a reply. Sofia was at her desk, working on papers, tears silently streaming down her face. Something had happened.
Sofia looked up and put the papers aside, waiting for Jana.
“As one of your constituents, I’ve decided to come to you as a legislator, a reputable member of parliament, and state my grievance.”
Sofia’s tears continued to flow. Jana went on.
“I’ve knocked on doors all over the city, and nobody wants to talk to a woman whose best friend refuses to talk to her.”
Sofia almost smiled.
“It’s lonely not having a best friend any more.”
“Aren’t we best friends any more, Jana?” There was regret in Sofia’s voice.
“Best friends can argue, can give and take, without being apprehensive. I’m talking to a woman who I used to call my closest friend. Do you think, if we try again, that it’s possible we can regain what we once had?”
Sofia thought, then shook her head. “I no longer have any friends. Politicians, I’ve found out, don’t have them.”
“Real people have them. A
few
politicians are real people.”
“I haven’t met them.”
“I have. I think you’re one of them.”
Sofia proffered a tremulous smile.
“Can you take off your politician’s hat? We have to think together. We have to have an honest give-and-take.”
There was a wistful note in Sofia’s voice. “There’s good in politics; you just have to find it.”
“Sofia, when politicians do the things that they feel are necessary to be
successful,
nothing is beyond them. They become bottom-feeders, or worse.”
The tears began to slow down. “Are you being honest, Jana?”
“I’m trying to be.”
“You’re not.”
“How so?”
“If you were being honest, you’d acknowledge that you’ve come here only to get information about Ivan Boryda. You’re here as a policeman, not as a friend.”
“I’m here, at this moment, as a friend so I don’t have to come back later as a police officer.”
“You haven’t come to get information from me that would help in a police investigation?”
“I’m here to get information on people who have taken money they shouldn’t have, and, in turn, have dragged down a friend of mine. But she may no longer be the reformer, the woman who wants to help the people of this country. She may no longer be the people’s servant. She may have joined the predators.”
“I hope not.” Sofia’s voice became stronger. “I don’t want to be.”
“Are you the same woman who ran Transparency? ‘A person’s ideals are the person,’ you used to say. Do you still believe that?”
“ . . . Yes.”
“Are you still serving the people, or yourself? Or the Borydas? Or Kamin? What ideals can anyone have who serves
them?”
The tears had stopped. Sofia’s face had taken on a faraway look, as if she were remembering herself at another time.
“Ivan Boryda is gone, Sofia. He won’t come back. He can’t leave Klaudia. She won’t leave him, not voluntarily. And both are tied up with Kamin.”
Jana pulled out the diamond, letting it hang from the chain. Their eyes followed the sway of the diamond.
“This is one of the keys.”
Sofia’s eyes focused even more closely on the diamond.
“Explain.”
“Kamin has been financing Boryda for a long time. Long before you arrived on the political and personal scene. Long before I saw him in your office.”
“He said Kamin would make him prime minister.”
“Boryda needed money; the money had to be funneled from Kamin to Boryda. You became the go-between. Boryda remained untouched. You took the risk.”
Jana studied Sofia, trying to read her. It was very important not to make a mistake now. “You arrived late in the game. There was another person who had received the money before you. It was Klaudia Boryda, wasn’t it?”
Sofia nodded.
“Was there a lot of money involved, Sofia?”
Sofia hesitated. “Hundreds of thousands.”
“A huge amount.”
“Enormous.”
Jana thought about the sums of money that had been flowing into Boryda’s hands. “It comes down to a question of control. The more money involved, the more people want to manage it, to possess it. You were sucked in because Ivan Boryda wanted to escape Klaudia’s domination. You were the tool he needed to transport the money from Kamin. Klaudia knew that if she lost control of the money, she would be unnecessary. She had to get rid of you.”
The beginning of comprehension dawned on Sofia’s face.
Jana twirled the diamond around on the chain. “We know that Klaudia sent you the diamond and you walked right into that trap. There’s still the question of where Kamin got the money to finance Boryda. There’s also another question, perhaps even larger:
Why
did he want to finance Boryda? What could Boryda do for him? And why all the killings?”
“I don’t know, Jana.”
Sofia’s face was open. She was telling the truth.
“Boryda and his wife are no longer in Vienna. They’re not in Bratislava. Do you know where they are?”
“At the schloss.”
“They have a castle?”
“In Austria, near our border. I tried to call him.” She shook her head. “One last attempt to get him back. He told me we were through. Then he called me Kamin’s whore, and hung up. That’s why I’m crying, Jana.”
“He wanted to hurt you, Sofia.”
“He succeeded.”
Jana had one more account to settle with these people.