by C. B. Lewis
Janos held his gaze. “You are lucky. You live in time when people can love where they choose. Other times were not like this.” He leaned forward, bracing his right hand on his knee. “I know you have been asked to tell big lies for me, but you do not need to do it this way. You can tell big lies and be afraid of being caught, or you can tell small truths. It is easier for you.”
“I don’t understand.”
Janos drummed his fingers on his knee. “If I am asked, I live here because my family could not accept that I love a man. It is true, but it is not all of the truth. If asked what I do here, I work in communication between teams. Again, it is true, but not all of the truth.” He offered that rare, solemn smile. “You can do this also with your policeman.”
Kit nodded slowly. “Give him enough information to answer some of his questions, without getting all of us in trouble?”
“This is so.” He sighed. “I am sorry I am problem for you, and for everyone.”
Kit shook his head. “It’s not just you. I’ve put my foot in it more than once with the detective. I showed him something I shouldn’t have, and I think that’s why he’s coming back again.”
Janos sat back in his chair. “Mariam said you saw video from Sanders’s attacker?”
Kit nodded. “I did and Ofori did too.” He clasped his hands together between his knees. “I—” He paused, wondering how much he should tell the man. “I think he thinks I know more than I let on, when we saw it.”
Janos raised his eyebrows. “You do.”
“Yeah, I do but that’s not….” Kit rubbed at his forehead. “How much do I tell him? I mean, without giving away everything? I talk too much. I always do. Especially when there are people I find attractive around.”
The other man chuckled. “You find this policeman good to look at?”
Kit felt the blush flood up his face. “He’s not bad.”
“And this is small truth? Or big lie to hide big truth?” Janos smiled, and Kit felt himself going even redder. Janos leaned over and patted Kit on the knee. “Don’t be afraid. You keep my secret. I will keep yours.”
Kit managed a wan smile. “I’ve been in the basement, working on gates too long,” he admitted. “I need to get out more, if I fancy the first non-staff member I see.” He sat up a little straighter. “Thanks. I mean, for the pointers.”
Janos got up from his seat. “It is selfish too,” he said as Kit got up. “I like it here. I do not want to become artifact of history.” He wrinkled his nose. “Dieter already makes too many jokes about fucking a museum relic. I do not need to give him more reasons.”
Kit couldn’t help laughing. “I bet. How is he, anyway? Is he okay?”
Janos’s smile was warmer. “He is much better now. Still not all good, but much better.” He glanced at the door. “Not happy I must be here now, but Mariam asked and I came for her.”
Kit frowned. “Why?”
“Just for talking,” Janos replied. “She has much pressure on her.” He patted Kit’s shoulder. “You should go. Hide in your basement, so you will not see your pretty policeman and go red in front of Mariam.”
Kit rolled his eyes. “Shut up.” Still, he couldn’t help feeling a bit of relief that at least he wasn’t hiding absolutely everything from everyone. It was exhausting. “Can you tell Mariam where I went?”
“Hiding in basement.” Janos nodded at once. “Yes. Connecting blush to gate for new power source.”
“Anyone ever tell you you’re a bit of a git?”
“Git?”
“You know? Like an arsehole?”
“Ah. Yes.” Janos grinned. “Not many people notice. I am quiet and nice.”
“And a git.”
“Yes. And a git.”
Chapter 19
MRS. ASHRAF met Jacob in the lobby herself at nine o’clock.
He was there earlier than he’d planned to be. Insomnia was playing havoc with him. It was all down to whether Kit could be trusted. He hated to think otherwise, especially when Kit was such good company, and he hated being such a suspicious bastard about it.
Mrs. Ashraf looked just as worn out, and the shadows under her eyes suggested sleepless nights. No wonder, if she was running the TRI and looking after a small, scared child as well. Still, she treated him with every courtesy as he was signed into the building.
“How’s Ben doing?” he asked as the elevator ascended.
“The nightmares are still bad.” She was standing upright, where he was leaning against the handrail. “Is this absolutely necessary?”
“We’ve done as much as we can without speaking to him again,” Jacob said with a sigh. “If there was any other way, I’d take it, but he knew his father better than anyone. He might know something that could help.”
“He’s a child.”
“Don’t underestimate the things a child will notice.” Jacob shook his head. “The number of times my kid caught me out….”
“I suppose.” She stepped toward the doors, touching the sensor panel. The doors slid aside. “We’d prefer if you spoke to Mr. Nagy first, if you don’t mind. It’ll show Ben there’s nothing to worry about, and that other people will be answering questions too.”
“Of course.”
Jacob had to admit he was surprised. She hadn’t once asked him why he wanted to speak to Nagy. That suggested she at least was aware of Nagy’s history. Whether for good or ill, he wasn’t sure yet, but it wasn’t what he’d expected.
Instead of taking him to her office, Mrs. Ashraf led him along the corridor to a conference room. Inside, Ben was sitting on the edge of the long conference table, holding out a toy robot to a man sitting on the chair in front of him. The boy was talking, and the man was listening attentively.
Ben was the first one to look toward the doors.
Mrs. Ashraf stepped forward. “Ben, you remember Detective Inspector Ofori?”
Ben nodded. He looked back at the other man. “Can you help me down?”
The man smiled and pushed his chair back, then lifted Ben down from the table. Ben caught his hand and tugged him up from the chair to lead him over. Jacob couldn’t help noticing that the limb Ben was clinging on to was a prosthetic attached just below the elbow.
“DI Ofori,” Mrs. Ashraf said, “this is Janos Nagy.”
Jacob held out his hand, which Nagy took without hesitation. Nagy looked him up and down, and he did the same. Nagy was a big man, not just tall, but broad shouldered. He was dressed like anyone in an office would be, in trousers and a casual short-sleeved shirt that gave the impression it should be loose. On Nagy, it was pulled taut around his upper arms and shoulders, only loose at the waist. A physically strong person.
He met Nagy’s eyes.
No. Not just physically strong.
There was something iron in the man’s expression, though he gazed back placidly.
“You have asked to speak to me?” Nagy’s English was still strongly accented, which wasn’t a surprise, if he had only been in England for three years.
“We just have a few questions we’d like to clear up,” Jacob said. “I hope that’s not too much trouble.”
“If it helps, I will answer all things.” Nagy turned and crouched down to speak to Ben. “You stay with Mariam for now, and then you can answer questions like me, yes?” He smiled at the boy and earned a shy smile back. “Maybe you can show Mr. Policeman your robot too?”
Ben nodded. “Be nice,” he said in a whisper. “Jacob is nice.”
Nagy ruffled Ben’s hair. “I am always nice.” He straightened up and nudged the boy toward Mrs. Ashraf.
As woman and child left the room, Nagy returned to his seat at the table. He motioned to the opposite side of the table with his prosthetic hand. He moved naturally, which meant he must have had some time to get used to the mechanism.
“You have questions? It is to help find Sanders?”
Jacob sat down at the table. “Potentially.” He folded his hands on the tabletop. “I want to start
with your status here.”
Janos looked surprised. “This will help to find Sanders?”
“This will answer some questions.”
Nagy tilted his head, watching Jacob. “I am suspect now? This is why you have looked at my past?”
“We have looked into all members of staff,” Jacob demurred. “Your record was flagged during our checks. That’s why we have to ask, and that’s why I hope you’ll cooperate, so we can put it aside.”
Nagy sat back, folding his hands and mirroring Jacob’s stance. “Very well. Ask your questions. I will answer what I can.” He smiled, a brief tilt of one side of his mouth. “Then you can put a note on case that this was all waste of time and go back to find Sanders.”
“That’s what I’m hoping for.” Jacob set his slate down by his right hand. “Your records indicate you came to Britain in 2041.”
“Sometime like that, yes.”
Jacob raised his eyebrows. “You don’t know?”
“Not exact date, no.” Nagy shrugged. “It was… bad time. I was sick. Hurt.” He uncurled his left hand and waved his prosthetic fingers. “Before this.”
“How did you cross the border control? We have no record of you entering the country.”
Nagy hesitated and looked down at his hands. His flesh hand wrapped around his false one. “The name I leave behind is not the name I come here with.” He raised his eyes to Jacob. “Where I came from, they did not agree with me on many things. I left everything behind, including my name.”
“You’re admitting to carrying false papers?”
Nagy nodded. “I know this is crime, but I had no choice.” He met Jacob’s eyes. “People I knew then, they hurt me because of who I was.” He significantly tapped the back of his false hand. “I run away because I do not want to die. I hide. I come here. Easy country to come to. Good people. Big city for people to hide in.”
Jacob leaned back in his chair. “You could have come here legally.”
“All my papers were with my family.” He hesitated, then drew up his shirt, showing a vicious scar down his right side. A knife wound, if Jacob was to take a guess. Nagy lowered the shirt, smoothing it back down. “It was not possible to go back for papers.”
Jacob was thrown. He had expected Nagy to lie about his origins, and his arrival, but instead, Nagy had admitted that he had committed a crime to enter Britain. He even gave reasons that were plausible. “Why did they attack you?”
Nagy was silent for a moment. His prosthetic fingers twisted around a gold band on the ring finger of his right hand. “There is much tolerance in the world,” he said finally. “In some places, there is less tolerance. In some places, people condemn for loving the wrong person.” His smile was fleeting and didn’t reach his eyes. “I loved the wrong person. Some people would have killed me for it.”
That was vague enough that Jacob knew he had to ask. If the man had some kind of perverted proclivities, they had to know. “The person you loved….”
“A man. Gone now.” Nagy looked down at the ring on his finger. “Here, I found another. Better.” He closed his left hand over his right, then looked back up at Jacob. “You want to know if I was involved in Sanders’s case. I was not. Why would I risk all I have now to hurt my friend?”
Jacob gazed at him, curious. For a man who said he would not risk everything, he had confessed to a crime that could result in his arrest and imprisonment.
Nagy wet his lips with the tip of his tongue. There was another scar there, across his lips and chin. He looked like he had been through the wars. “You will arrest me now, yes?”
On the surface, it was a simple case of identity fraud. Jacob knew he could arrest him, but the man had come here, no doubt expecting to have his past raked over, and had been nothing but honest about his crimes.
If Nagy had been from another country, and he’d fled persecution and claimed asylum, it would have been simpler, but within an EU state, there was never any reason. He could have crossed the borders with his papers, but his scars supported his story and why he had fled without them.
If his story checked out, and his current paperwork was in order, it might be possible to push matters through for him and keep him out of trouble. If it all turned out to be a load of bullshit, then they could cross that bridge when they came to it.
“I’ll need your birth name,” he said finally, “and copies of your current paperwork.”
Nagy nodded. “I will bring it to you.” He reached out, then hesitated. “I can type the name for you. It is….” He laughed shortly. “It is very Hungarian.”
Jacob opened up a note on the slate and passed it over. Nagy balanced it carefully in his left hand and started typing with his right. He paused, frowned. “You do not mind if I change keyboard settings for a moment? I need accents.”
“Whatever you need to get the name down.”
A moment later, he slid the slate back across the desk to Jacob, who looked at the mess of letters from the arse end of the alphabet. “I definitely wouldn’t have been able to spell that.” He copied the name over into a message and pinged it to Anton with the instruction to check it. “If you can collect your papers and bring them to the police station as soon as possible, I would appreciate that.”
“Of course.” Nagy looked relieved. “I am not arrested now?”
“Not for now,” Jacob replied. He nodded to the door. “If you can let Mrs. Ashraf know we’re done, I’d like to speak to Ben.”
Nagy rose at once, offering his right hand again. “Thank you, sir.”
Jacob leaned over the table and shook it. “And for your time,” he said. He sat back as Nagy left the room and sent a follow-up note to Anton to look for any violent incidents involving a stabbing, and potentially mutilation of an arm.
A moment later, Mrs. Ashraf returned with Ben.
“Can I show you my robot?” Ben asked, clinging to Mrs. Ashraf’s hand.
Jacob smiled. “I’d love to see it.” He turned in his seat as Ben came around the end of the table and held it out to him. It was a small two-legged creation with a cartoonish smiley face drawn on the round head. “What does it do?”
Ben carefully set it on the table, and it strolled across to the other side, where Mrs. Ashraf caught it before it could fall. “Kit made it for me,” Ben said, looking solemnly at Jacob. “It was a present.”
The shoebox.
As gifts went, building a toy for your boss’s distressed son was a good one.
It was also yet another reason that he was finding it hard not to trust Kit. Kit seemed like a genuinely decent person, and that was rare. He hoped like hell his suspicions were wrong, or if they were right, there was a good reason for them.
“You’re very lucky,” Jacob said. “It’s a very good robot.”
Ben nodded, running around the table to retrieve it. He returned and stood in front of Jacob, hugging the robot against his chest. “Aunt Mariam says you want to ask me stuff.”
“I’m afraid so.” Jacob leaned forward, bringing himself down to Ben’s height, resting his forearms on his knees. “You’ve been very brave, and now, I need to ask you if you can be a little bit braver for me?”
Ben nodded, hugging the robot tightly.
“When your dad told you to hide, do you know why he didn’t hide with you?”
Ben’s lower lip trembled. He nodded. “He said he had to put something away downstairs.”
Jacob kept the frown at bay. They’d asked Ben the standard questions on day one. Sanders had told Ben to run, and Ben had been so distressed, it was impossible to get anything else out of him. He definitely hadn’t mentioned anything about putting something away.
“Put something away?”
Ben nodded gravely. “He always kept his special things locked away safe.”
Jacob glanced over at Ashraf. Her expression was giving nothing away, but she had her arms tightly folded, and her lips were pressed into a thin line. He looked back at Ben. “Do you know what special thing he
had to put away?”
Ben shook his head. “I wasn’t meant to touch.”
Jacob took his slate down off the table and opened a picture of the odd mechanism that he’d found at the house—the one that had a twin at Kit’s flat—and showed the boy. “Is this one of your dad’s special things?”
Ben shook his head. “Dad says that’s a spare part.” He looked up at Jacob. “Do you know where he is?”
“Not yet,” Jacob said apologetically, “but I won’t stop looking, I promise.”
Ben’s face fell, and he turned and hurried to Mrs. Ashraf’s side. “Can we go home now?”
Mrs. Ashraf glanced at Jacob, raising her eyebrows. He nodded. She put her arm around the boy. “Yes. We can go home.” She looked back to Jacob. “Stay here. I’ll have someone escort you out.”
Jacob rose. “Thank you.”
He sank back down into the seat after the door closed and looked at the image on the screen, then flicked through several of the crime scene photographs. He always kept his special things locked away. All the walls were lined with shelves, but there was no sign of any cupboards or a safe or anywhere that anything could be locked up.
They were missing something.
There was something they had overlooked at the house, something downstairs, somewhere that Sanders could lock up his prized possessions. Jacob’s mouth opened in shock. Sanders locked up his special things. He had a safe room for his son on the upper level. Who was to say he hadn’t done something similar for himself on the lower levels?
When a young woman came to escort him out, he barely paid her any attention, his mind racing. He had to get back to the crime scene. He had to find what Sanders had hidden.
Chapter 20
THERE WAS something comforting about being left alone to work.
Kit closed himself up in the temporal chamber with the gate. He had been trying for days to replace parts so he could test the lock mechanism, and every day, he’d been interrupted by someone or another.
With tools in his hands and machines opened up before him, he felt more at ease. He could put aside the worries about his appointment in the evening and focus completely on the job at hand. It was so much simpler than trying to think about what he was meant to say to Jacob.
