by Alan Hunter
Kasimir closed his eyes, rocked a little.
‘A couple of thou?’ Empton said. ‘Don’t go to sleep, Jan. I might have to wake you.’
‘I did not kill him,’ Kasimir said huskily. ‘You know about that. It is not me.’
‘Eloquence,’ Empton said, slapping him. ‘Little Jan has got a tongue.’
‘I did not kill him,’ Kasimir said. ‘I will not confess. I did not kill him.’
‘I’ll make it three thousand,’ Empton said.
‘No,’ Kasimir said. ‘Was not me.’
Empton slapped him. ‘Don’t push your market.’ He slapped him again. ‘Three and a half.’
‘No. No.’
Empton paused. ‘Just what have you got to sell us?’ he asked. ‘Who was Teodowicz?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Four thou.’
‘Is no good,’ Kasimir said.
Empton slapped him. ‘Five thou.’
‘No,’ Kasimir said. ‘I will not confess.’
‘What’s the figure?’
Kasimir said nothing. Empton slapped him. Kasimir still said nothing.
‘So it’s something big,’ Empton said. ‘Or you think it is, little Jan. And you’re not going to muck it away because you think we can’t stick you with the killing. But you’re wrong there, little Jan. We can fix you up all right. And we don’t have to put in a confession which the judge would sling straight back at us.’ He eased away from Kasimir. ‘We’ve got you taped, little Jan,’ he said. ‘You received instructions to kill Teodowicz. We pay money. We get info.’
‘No!’ Kasimir said.
‘Oh yes,’ Empton said. ‘You’re a little green in the racket, aren’t you? There’s plenty of double-selling goes on among the ranks of Tuscany, you know. And you’ve been sold. Right up the Volga. You were sent here to kill him, little Jan. You took a week off from making instruments and you came here, and you killed Teodowicz.’
Empton leant forward casually, gave Kasimir a double slap.
‘Six thou,’ he said. ‘We’ll find a level of interest somewhere.’
Kasimir sat up even straighter. ‘That is a lie!’ he cried passionately.
Empton slapped him several times.
‘Naughty,’ he said. ‘Don’t call me a liar.’
‘But it is a lie. I was not sent to kill him!’
‘Seven thousand?’ Empton said.
‘And I shall never, never, confess it!’
Empton hit him in the mouth.
‘I don’t know why I bother,’ he said. ‘This is only to satisfy bourgeois prejudice. If we leak some info in the right direction, you’ll get no more letters out of Poland.’
Kasimir sprang up. ‘Swine!’ he screamed. Empton punched him in the stomach.
‘Don’t get hysterical, Jan,’ he said. ‘It isn’t British. Don’t do it.’
Kasimir fell back in the chair, gasping, sobbing, clutching his stomach. Empton watched him. He turned to Whitaker.
‘Sorry to worry you, old man,’ he said.
‘I think that’s enough of that,’ Whitaker said.
‘Damned un-bourgeois,’ Empton said. ‘But I’ve probably made my point now.’
‘I think that’s enough of it,’ Whitaker said.
Kasimir sobbed. His mouth was bleeding. He didn’t try to cover his face. He sat holding his stomach and crying, like any child might cry.
‘Well, well,’ Empton said. ‘Well, well, little Jan. Did you cry when you shot Teodowicz, or did you just close your eyes?’
‘Swine, swine,’ Kasimir sobbed.
‘Why was he killed, little Jan?’
‘It is you who kill him,’ Kasimir sobbed. ‘The British police. You kill Teodowicz.’
‘Dear me,’ Empton said. ‘This is doing us too much honour. Why should we kill Teodowicz, when you can think up an answer?’
‘Because we talk to him,’ Kasimir sobbed. ‘Because we ask him to go back. So you kill him, that is why. To make it seem that we kill people.’
‘How extraordinary,’ Empton said. ‘It sounds almost strange enough to be true.’
‘And you do kill him!’ Kasimir sobbed. ‘It is not us. It is you.’
Empton stared at him for some moments. ‘No,’ he said. ‘It’s too simple. Think again, little Jan. I don’t think we can quite swallow that one.’
‘Yes,’ Kasimir sobbed, ‘yes. It is you who have done that. That is why I have to come back, to find out who has done the killing. And now I know. It is you. And you want that I shall confess. And I never, never shall confess. It is the British police who kill Teodowicz!’
‘Better and better,’ Empton said. ‘Who is your contact man, Jan?’
‘How should I know who he is – twice, only, I have seen him.’
‘What do they call him?’ Empton said.
‘I do not know what they call him.’
‘Is he tall, short, fat, thin?’
‘He is tall man, not fat.’
‘A Pole, is he?’
‘Yes,’ Kasimir sobbed.
‘And that’s all the description you can give us?’
‘He comes from the Embassy!’ Kasimir sobbed. ‘He is man like you. But he is a Pole.’
Empton’s teeth appeared very slowly. ‘A man like me, Jan,’ he said. ‘We’re getting compliments thick and fast now you’re opening your mouth a little. Is it Razek?’
‘I do not know.’
‘A man with grey eyes and a cheek scar.’
‘I do not know . . . yes, a scar.’
‘Speaks slowly. Doesn’t look at you.’
‘Yes,’ Kasimir said. ‘That is the man.’
‘Wears light grey suits, pale ties.’
‘Yes, a light grey suit,’ Kasimir said. ‘That is the man. Speaks slowly.’
‘Well, well,’ Empton said. ‘So this is one of Razek’s projects. And he’s a man like me, is he, Jan? That’s more of a compliment than you’re aware of. Razek,’ he said to Whitaker, ‘is an old acquaintance of mine. Rule Britannia to one side, I’m a great admirer of Razek’s. That makes little Jan almost a friend. I’m sure we ought to do some business. I’m sure it would hurt Razek’s feelings if we were crude enough to deport little Jan.’ He flicked Kasimir affectionately. ‘Now see here, Jan,’ he said. ‘Let’s get together on this like pals instead of playing it tough with each other.’
‘I have told you about it,’ Kasimir said.
‘Yes,’ Empton said. ‘But not enough. Cards on the table, Jan, old fellow, then we’ll see about a deal. You aren’t in this for love, I know, and we don’t expect you to be. There’s some ready money sitting in my car and it was signed out especially for little Jan. Now – why did Teodowicz have to die?’
Kasimir moaned, covered his face.
‘I’m not asking who killed him,’ Empton said. ‘That’s something we’ll leave between you and Razek. These things happen. You didn’t want to do it. You had pressure put on you, I know about that. And Razek had pressure put on him too, he isn’t a man who kills for policy. But he’d give you a hint of why you were doing it, and it’s that hint I’m ready to pay for. This is business, little Jan. You don’t have to fence any longer.’
‘I will not confess,’ Kasimir said. He said it between his teeth. ‘I will not confess.’
‘Jan,’ Empton said. ‘You play ball with me and I’ll play ball with you. You won’t be touched if you cooperate, you’ll just get your money, that’s all. You’ll go back to West Hampstead and you’ll report to Razek that we’re off the scent – he’ll believe it, I’ll drop some info – and he’ll never know about the deal. Then I’ll give you a man you can contact when something fresh turns up, and you’ll be paid pretty well, Jan. We aren’t mean with our agents.’
Kasimir sobbed.
‘Jan,’ Empton said. ‘You aren’t listening, Jan.’
‘I will not confess,’ Kasimir said.
Empton struck him in the face.
‘Here,’ Whitaker said. ‘That’s en
ough. I’m not going to permit that sort of thing.’
‘Bloody wogs,’ Empton said. ‘He’ll talk.’
‘I won’t have it,’ Whitaker said.
‘I’ll take him back with me,’ Empton said. ‘He’ll talk. A couple of days will make him vocal.’
Gently said: ‘He walks out of that door unless you’ve a charge to hang on him.’
Empton turned to look at Gently. He stared hard, showed the teeth. ‘Bless my soul, old man,’ he said. ‘English justice in person. You want to be technical? I’ll be technical. I’ve got a charge tucked up my sleeve for him. He’s an alien, you know, and you heard what he admitted to us. He’s been in touch with a foreign power.’
‘They’ve been in touch with him,’ Gently said. ‘He seems to have been under some duress.’
‘The mere spirit,’ Empton said. ‘You asked for the letter, I’ve given it to you. And don’t forget that Teodowicz was murdered, however venial the act may seem. I think the law has a hold on Jan, if Jan has a hold on the law.’
‘Jan,’ Gently said, ‘will you talk to me now?’
‘I won’t confess,’ Kasimir whispered.
‘I’m not asking you to confess,’ Gently said. ‘I’d just like you to explain what you told us. It wasn’t us who killed Teodowicz, and we’re not trying to find a scapegoat. But we have to understand how you came into it. That seems to have a bearing on Teodowicz’s death. Won’t you tell me about that?’
‘I have told you this,’ Kasimir said. He began crying again, with a helpless bitterness. Empton sighed, got up, walked over to the window.
‘Jan,’ Gently said.
Kasimir sobbed. His face was twisted and blotched with tears.
‘Jan.’
‘I have told you . . .’
‘It’s important, Jan.’
‘I have told you . . . I go to speak to him.’ He faced Gently, his eyes glazed. ‘I am not a criminal,’ he said. ‘I am a decent person, you understand . . . ? I want to live like a decent person.’
‘Tell me, Jan,’ Gently said.
‘And I’m not a coward!’ Kasimir sobbed. ‘I was in the Resistance, I fought the Germans, I have been tortured, sentenced to death . . . I am not a coward, you understand? They broke my leg . . . I am not a coward.’
‘Tell me what happened,’ Gently said.
‘And I am not a traitor,’ Kasimir sobbed. ‘I leave Poland, but I am not a traitor. I love Poland very much. I am not a traitor to Poland. I think it is good, much that they do there. But me, I have said too many things, I have to leave, I have to come here . . . and I do not have any illusions about your country, I think only you let me live decent. You understand? I want to live decent, I have all that I can take . . .’ He broke down again. ‘I am not a traitor . . .’
‘Go on, Jan,’ Gently said.
‘I love Poland,’ he sobbed. ‘I love my mother and my sister.’
‘They’re still in Poland?’
‘Yes . . . still in Poland.’
‘And that was the pressure they put on you?’
Kasimir nodded. ‘This man . . . he knows my mother and sister by name. He does not threaten me, nothing like that. Just ask me how they are getting on . . .’
‘What had you to do?’ Gently said.
‘To talk to Teodowicz, this is all. To make him see it is right for him to go back, stand trial . . .’
‘Not to threaten him?’
‘No . . . this is true! I have to appeal to him to go back. It is good if he do this, you understand? He would not get a heavy sentence.’
‘And you talked to Teodowicz.’
‘Yes, of course. I cannot do anything else.’
‘How did he take it?’
‘He does not like it . . . is a big shock, I think. All this time he has been forgotten, thinks he has done with all that. Then I talk to him.’ Kasimir gulped. ‘I did not want to do that.’
‘Was he difficult?’
‘No, not difficult . . . he knows I could not help coming. He is shocked, first of all . . . doesn’t know what to do about it. He asks me if he is threatened. I tell him no, no threats. What will happen, he says, if I take no notice. I do not know what to tell him. He keeps walking up and down, up and down, like an animal.’
‘Did he make his mind up?’
‘No. He must have time, he says. I must come back in a few days, then he will know what to tell me.’
‘What did you do?’
‘I stop here. I have to go back with an answer. I tell him where he can find me so he can talk to me again.’
‘I see,’ Gently said. He sat some moments frowning at the desk. ‘What were you doing during that time – two or three days, it would be?’
Kasimir gave a little shrug. ‘It is very dull. I visit Cambridge I have a friend there, a college professor, he will tell you it is true. Mathias Lukov, that is his name. He is in the telephone directory.’
‘You were in Cambridge on Monday?’
‘Yes. I am sleeping here, you understand. On Monday we go to the Arts Theatre, a first night, ‘‘The Italian Straw Hat’’. I have a hire car, you see, I come back quite late.’
‘How late?’
‘Oh, after midnight. We had some supper in Lukov’s rooms.’
‘You can prove it?’
‘But yes. There is Lukov, also his friends. It is a small party, six or seven. I am not back here till perhaps two o’clock.’
‘Go on,’ Gently said. ‘How did you learn that Teodowicz was dead?’
‘It is in the news,’ Kasimir said. ‘The BBC, Tuesday morning. I hear it at breakfast where I am staying. I am flabbergasted to hear this. If he had shot himself I could understand, but he could not have shot himself like that. I go back to London straight away and get in touch with this man, he says the British police must have done it to give our government a bad name. He is very surprised too, cannot understand at all. I must return to Offingham, he tells me, try to find out the truth about it.’
‘What did you find out?’ Gently asked.
Kasimir shrugged again. ‘I am a poor detective. I think that woman have something to do with it, the one you talk to at the café.’
Gently nodded. ‘But now you think we did it?’
Kasimir said nothing, glanced at Empton’s back.
‘You don’t really believe that,’ Gently said. ‘Just as I don’t believe you did it, either.’
Kasimir looked at him. ‘You know . . . ?’ He hesitated.
‘I’m getting a rough idea,’ Gently said.
‘It is difficult,’ Kasimir said slowly. ‘Very difficult. I think perhaps you are a good detective.’
‘You’ll be seeing this man again – Mr Razek?’
Kasimir glanced at Empton again. ‘Yes. I have appointment.’
‘You’d better tell him you’ve talked to us about it,’ Gently said. ‘And that at the moment it looks to us like a simple criminal job. It may or may not concern some other nationals, but we don’t regard it primarily as a political killing. We’re as anxious as he is, you can tell him, to avoid giving this case a political colouring.’
‘I will tell him,’ Kasimir said. ‘I will return today and tell him.’
Empton turned from the window. ‘How nice,’ he said. ‘How terribly nice. Little Jan and English justice settling their differences like gentlemen. What a pity we haven’t got it on tape to give them a belly laugh in the Kremlin.’ He showed his teeth, came into the room. ‘Sad,’ he said, ‘I must break up the act. But I belong to a different school of thought and suffer from a chronically reluctant gullet. Little Jan isn’t sliding off yet, for all his cultivated wog-pals in Cambridge.’
‘I think he is,’ Gently said.
‘Decent of you, old man,’ Empton said. ‘But I’ve a charge to prefer, don’t you remember? Are you up to charging someone yet, old man?’
‘Oh yes,’ Gently said. ‘Ever since last night.’
‘A parking offence?’ Empton said.
‘
No, murder,’ Gently said. ‘This is a murder case. Haven’t you seen the newspapers lately?’
He took a newspaper out of his pocket, uncapped his pen, marked an item. He handed the newspaper to Empton. Empton snatched it. He read the item. He stared at Gently.
‘So?’ he said softly.
‘So we’re ready to charge him,’ Gently said. ‘Just as soon as we can pick him up. I’m afraid you’re wasting your time, old man.’
CHAPTER NINE
EMPTON DROPPED THE newspaper on the desk, walked round the desk, sat down on the edge of it. He took out his cigarette case, took from it a yellow cigarette, looked at the cigarette for a moment, rolled it between his lips, flicked a light for it, sucked. He looked at the angle of the wall and the ceiling.
‘I see,’ he said. ‘Men at work.’
He sucked in air along with the smoke and forced the smoke through his nostrils.
‘And you’ve got it all tied up,’ he said. ‘Ready to hit me over the head with it. You ring for Joe to open the tin, then shunt him off back to stores.’ He sucked hard. ‘Congratulations. Nice timing and all that. Trusting I gave every satisfaction, must hurry away to other clients.’
‘Jan,’ Gently said. ‘You can go.’
‘Yes, you can go, Jan,’ Empton said. ‘We’ll give you a ring if your alibi’s faked. Slide. Shove off. Blow. Fade.’
‘Unless Superintendent Empton has any questions,’ Gently said.
‘Oh, laughable,’ Empton said. ‘Run along Jan. Sling your hook, Jan. Love and kisses to Mr Razek.’
Kasimir rose, hesitated. ‘I will answer the questions,’ he said.
‘Dear boy,’ Empton said. ‘Remind me to send you a card at Christmas.’
Kasimir gave his little shrug, picked up his possessions from the desk. His lips were puffed, his face bruised. He held his back very stiffly. To Gently he said:
‘I have Flat 5A, 22 Bonser Street, West Hampstead. My alibi is not a fake. You will find me there if you want me again.’
‘Leave me your handkerchief,’ Empton said.
