Last Room

by Reah, Danuta

  The questions churned through his mind, less and less coherent as the night wore on. No one came to release the handcuffs. His shoulders were aching and a throbbing pain was starting in his hands as the blood pooled and they began to swell. He edged himself back onto his feet and went to the door. He shouted through the grille, then he kicked the wood in frustration as no one responded and no one came. All he could do was endure.

  The hours dragged on as the pain got worse. He made himself as comfortable as he could on the bench and tried to lower himself into sleep, knowing he needed to marshal his resources for the following day. He didn’t know how long he was there. They had taken his watch, and anyway, it would have been too dark to read its face. The long night dragged on.

  Chapter 43

  Dariusz must have slept in the end, because he jerked awake as the light in his cell blazed on and the door was pushed open. ‘Morning.’ It was an incongruously cheerful junior, carrying a tray that he dumped down on the shelf. ‘Room service!’ He looked at Dariusz sprawled on the bed. ‘Those should have come off last night.’ He reached for a key on his belt and released the handcuffs, tutting as he saw Dariusz’ purple, swollen hands.

  Dariusz couldn’t suppress a groan as his hands throbbed with the pain of returning life. He moved his shoulders, trying to relax the frozen muscles. The young man went cheerfully off to deal with the inmates of the other cells, and Dariusz took stock. As his nose had told him the night before, the cell was filthy. There was dirt ingrained on the floor and stains on the walls. He was inured to the smell, but the waft of fresher air from the corridor reminded him it was there. He felt grimy and sweaty. He itched, and he longed to get under the shower and wash the place off himself.

  He inspected the tray without much enthusiasm. It contained a cup of grey liquid that turned out to be coffee when he tasted it. It was thin and over-sweet but it was welcome and he drank it. There were a couple of slices of bread and jam which he ate. The sugar rush made him feel more alert, and he tried to think again about what had happened, concentrating on the events to take his mind away from the pain in his hands.

  Someone had planted a file containing child pornography on his computer. Judging by the bit he had seen, it was the worst kind of material, brutal to the point of lethality, and involving very young children.

  There was something nagging at him, something important that he’d seen and not seen, and he couldn’t bring it to the surface. He sat quietly, not concentrating, just letting his mind drift, letting something elusive and intangible rise to the surface, slowly, closer…

  The cell door clattered open again. This time it was an older man. He eyed Dariusz with some distaste and said, ‘You’ll be wanted upstairs in half an hour. Come on.’

  ‘I want a representative.’ He didn’t need a solicitor – he could act for himself – but he wanted a reliable witness. His rights had been violated and trampled on. He wouldn’t get any redress. The police defended their own. For the interview, he wanted a witness.

  ‘She’s here.’

  Dariusz breathed again. He’d called Krysia’s number last night, but he had no way of knowing if his message had got through. ‘What time is it?’

  ‘Eight. If you want a wash, you’d better get a move on.’

  The man’s attitude and distance told Dariusz he knew what the charges against him were. He focused on the toilet facilities available which were inadequate but very welcome. He washed himself all over in cold water at a small basin. His face looked back at him from the polished metal that served as a mirror, weary and unshaven, but he felt more equal to coping with what the day was going to throw at him. ‘OK,’ he said. ‘Take me up.’

  Chapter 44

  Will slept late. He ordered breakfast, then packed his bags while he was waiting for it to arrive. He felt light-headed and detached, the result of the sedatives he had taken, but at least the lurking pain in his chest, the sudden fast beating of his heart and the breathlessness had gone. He kept his mind focused on what he was doing and tried not to think too much about what lay ahead.

  He was ready to go home. His bags were still packed. He picked up the damaged toy from the desk where Erland had tossed it the day before. His fingers touched the worn fur. This is trash. It never meant anything.

  He tucked it into his suitcase. Ania had kept it all these years. He would take over its guardianship now.

  There was nothing left to do. He was impatient to leave. He expected Erland to arrive at any minute. Despite the hostility between them, he didn’t want to go without saying his farewells. But the morning wore on, and there was no call. He tried Erland’s phone, but it was switched off. Their last encounter had been too bruising. Erland had had enough. Will was surprised by a sharp stab of regret.

  He went down into the street and took a last walk along Piotrkowska and towards the university. Round the corner was Coffees and Toffees where the same girl polished her counter. ‘Cześć,’ he greeted her. She gave him a bright, blank smile and he took his coffee to a far table. The person he had hoped to see wasn’t waiting for him. He had no sense of her now at all. She’d gone, and it was time for him to leave as well.

  Chapter 45

  Dariusz was released at midday. ‘The Komendant says you can go. You’re lucky you’ve got friends, Erland,’ the officer who had questioned him said as Dariusz prepared to leave. Dariusz hadn’t seen Król, but he knew Król must be observing what was happening. His faith hadn’t been misplaced.

  ‘My things?’

  ‘You can collect them at the desk. We’re keeping your computer and your phone. And don’t think about going anywhere for the next few weeks. We don’t like your kind, Erland. We’re watching you.’

  The interview had been bruising. They’d gone after him with everything they had. Krysia had sat beside him, a silent witness to the proceedings. He had tried to catch her eye a couple of times, but she kept herself disengaged.

  ‘Why didn't you report this break in?’

  ‘I didn't know it had happened.’

  ‘And you just happened to find the file last night? How?'

  'I was searching my system. I thought my girlfriend might have left a message or me.'

  'Why would you think that?'

  'Because she was murdered. I think she found something and was killed to keep her quiet.'

  ‘She killed herself, Erland. Maybe she had a guilty conscience. She shared your interest in… videos, didn’t she?’

  On and on it had gone, round and round, pushing and prodding, trying to confuse him in his fatigue, trying to make him lose his temper, anything that would make him talk. Through the endless morning he told himself he just needed to hold it together for a bit longer. He couldn't prove his story: without further evidence, they couldn't disprove it. Before too long, they would have to release him. And eventually, they did.

  As Krysia, drove him back to his flat, he could sense her unease. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘I didn’t do much.’ He could see she was struggling with something, and it burst out. ‘All this stuff about Ania. I know you don’t want to think… Dariusz, can’t you see this is destroying you?’

  ‘Ania was murdered.’

  ‘She killed herself, Dariusz. She committed a crime and she couldn’t face up to what she’d done so she killed herself. Why can’t you see it?’

  He didn’t reply and they drove in silence before she began again. ‘Why didn’t you report the break-in?’

  ‘I didn't know it had happened. Shit, Krysia, weren't you listening?’

  ‘It's just us now, Dariusz. You can tell me what’s going on. You don't have to...’

  'I told the police what happened. That's it. That's the truth.'

  ‘How could someone break in and you not know? And how did you find the file? If you didn't know it was there, how did you find it?'

  'What is this, Krysia? What are you saying?'

  'It's just... Did you know the police got an anonymous tip off yesterday that you h
ad illegal stuff on your computer? Then suddenly you're on the phone with a story about a break-in. It looks bad, Dariusz. That's all I'm saying.'

  She pulled up outside his flat. He waited until she looked at him. ‘Krysia, if you don’t believe me, we can’t work together. I need to know what you think I’m capable of.’

  Her gaze was all over the place. He waited. When she finally looked at him, he could see the doubt in her eyes. ‘I want to believe you, but I can’t ignore the evidence. I wish you'd reported the break-in earlier. The police think you’re lying. ’

  He felt a stab of anger. Was this what it was going to be like? ‘And you? Do you think I'm lying?’

  She wouldn’t look at him. ‘No. Of course not. If you say you were set up, I believe you.’

  She was still angry with him. He couldn’t tell whether it was her anger that was dictating her behaviour or if, deep down, she had doubts. He could taste something bitter in his mouth. But it was the best he could hope for. ‘OK. Let me know what’s happening. I’ll be in touch.’

  The police search had left chaos behind. He started picking up the papers and the clothes that were scattered across the floor, then felt overcome with weariness. The drawers of his desk had been forced open, the wood splintered beyond any easy fix. He surveyed the mess and wondered what his chances were of getting the police to pay for the repairs. Last night was catching up with him. He needed to sleep, but he didn’t have enough time.

  The message light on his phone was flashing. He played the voice mail. There were two messages. The first one was from Will Gillen. It was short and stilted. ‘I’m leaving in an hour. If you want…You’ve got my number. Goodbye.’ Dariusz felt a reluctant grin spread across his face. Fucking tight-arse Brit.

  The second one was from Leslaw Mielek, the office manager, asking him to call immediately. He sounded agitated.

  Dariusz knew he should have expected this. The police would make sure Mielek knew what had happened to him, and why he had been arrested. Mielek had been looking for reasons to cause trouble, and now he had them, in spades. He toyed with the idea of keeping his head down, but that would just play into Mielek’s hands.

  Mielek picked up the phone as soon as Dariusz keyed in his number. ‘Erland. You’re on leave as of now. Don’t come near the office.’

  ‘You don’t have that authority, Mielek.’

  ‘I do now. This doesn’t come from me. It comes from the top.’

  ‘On what…’

  ‘You know what grounds. You’re lucky they just want you on leave. If it was up to me, you’d be suspended. You’d be well advised to start looking for another job.’

  ‘That’s not your decision, Mielek, so don’t…’

  ‘You’ll get paid up until I know whether I can sack you or whether I want you to resign.’ He put the phone down before Dariusz could respond. He sank down into his chair, feeling as though he’d just taken a massive punch. He didn’t know if Mielek truly believed what he was saying, or if he was just taking an opportunity as it arose, but Krysia… OK, there’d been bad feeling between them because of Ania, because of the crass way he’d handled it, but he’d thought he could rely on her for something like this. After what they’d shared, how could she believe…? He couldn’t think of any way to respond to what was happening, because he wasn’t sure he understood himself what was going on.

  As his head began to clear, he could see how he had been corralled. Someone had placed the file in his computer and tipped the police off. What had saved him had been police caution. They’d been wary of picking up a high-profile lawyer without firm evidence. Before they’d made their move, he found the file. That bit of luck might save him.

  Despite Krysia's doubts and Mielek's call, he was certain he had done the right thing going to the police. It was the action of an innocent man, and the fact they had released him suggested that in the absence of evidence to the contrary, they thought so too.

  The danger wasn’t over. They had asked him about Will Gillen, and they had dug deeply into his relationship with Ania. He and Gillen had been looking for a conspiracy. Dariusz had peered into its depths only to find conspiracy hunters looking back. If he couldn’t find the person who’d done this to him, then he was well and truly fucked.

  Just like… The elusive thought he had lost when he was locked up in the police station, the one that had evaporated as his cell door was opened, came into his mind full formed. Like Derek Haynes. What had happened to Derek Haynes had just happened to him.

  Derek Haynes, condemned by all right thinking people, could be as innocent as he was.

  Chapter 46

  Will’s plane landed in Edinburgh on a bleak January night. He could see the rain gleaming on the runway as the plane came down through the clouds. Ania’s body had been flown back two days before, the day he should have returned. As he ran with his fellow passengers from the plane to the airport terminal, the rain hammered down through the grey evening. It seemed a fitting tribute to her death.

  He’d left his car at Manchester Airport. He took a taxi into the centre of Edinburgh, to the bus station. The bus from the city to Berwick called at St Abbs. The journey was just under two hours and he had checked the timetables before he left. He could get a bus at ten past seven, and be in St Abbs before nine. It would be better than a long taxi ride, being stuck for over an hour with a driver who might want to talk. Will needed silence.

  His departure from Poland had been low-key. There had been no sign of Erland and no communication from him. Will told himself he didn’t care. It wasn’t important – they’d said everything they had to say to each other, but in fact he was disappointed. His antagonism towards Erland had burned out at some stage during the past couple of days. In the end, he had wanted Erland's support, wanted his good wishes. He'd wanted to say goodbye.

  The bus crawled through the black night, the journey accompanied by the scrape and swish of the windscreen wipers. The driver, high in his seat in front of the massive windscreen seemed more like a captain on the bridge of an ocean-going vessel as the storm battered them. The road was a circle of light held in the headlamps.

  He was back in St Abbs. He was walking along the cliff top with Keeper beside him. It was a beautiful summer’s day, and he was on his way somewhere, to something he was looking forward to. He could see the rise in the ground ahead, and he could hear, carried on the breeze, the sound of voices, of children playing. He smiled to himself. He was nearly there. But Keeper suddenly danced off towards the edge of the cliff and he had to turn away to catch her. When he turned back to the path, the sun had vanished behind clouds that came rushing in, and the sound of children playing was gone. He looked round, confused.

  ‘St Abbs!’

  He jerked awake. The driver had pulled in by the side of the road. He was looking back at Will. ‘St Abbs!’ Will staggered to his feet, stiff from fatigue and hours of travel.

  In the short walk from the bus stop to the cliff top, the rain soaked him to the skin. The downpour obscured his vision and he wiped his gloved hands over his face in a futile attempt to clear it. The prospect of his cottage that had seemed like a haven from the distance of Łódź felt grim and lonely as he battled against the wind down the road to the village.

  The lane to the cottage was dark. He could just make out the wall where it jutted out to mark the end of the path. As he got closer, he saw a shape bulked against the cottage door as though someone was waiting there silently, concealed in the night.

  He stopped, then something burst out of the darkness. He staggered back as something hit him in the chest, almost knocking him off his feet. He was engulfed by wet fur and frantic barks as Keeper welcomed him back.

  The shape detached itself from the shelter of the wall and proved to be Jack, the car park attendant. Will put up his arm to defend himself from Keeper’s frantic leaps. He couldn’t bring himself to speak sharply to her. ‘Thank you for bringing her. It’s a foul night. I would have come down tomorrow and picked her up
.’

  ‘No problem.’ Even in the depths of winter, in the thin light of his torch, Jack’s face looked tanned. He had thrown a waterproof over his shoulders in concession to the storm, but he was still wearing cut-offs and trainers. ‘Be a bit of a depressing homecoming spending the first night alone.’

  This simple act of thoughtfulness caught Will unawares and for a moment he found it hard to speak. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ He knew it sounded abrupt but he couldn’t trust his voice. ‘Do you want a drink before you…?’

  ‘No thanks. I’ll be getting back unless there’s anything else you need. Here.’ He thrust a carrier bag into Will’s hand. ‘Shopping. You can settle up with me later.’ He turned back along the lane and vanished into the darkness.

  Will was home.

  He fumbled with his keys in the lock then pulled the door open. It swung back silently, releasing chill, musty air. He stepped inside, shut the door on the storm and stood on the stone flags as he took off his coat and shook the worst of the wet off his hair and clothes.

  Keeper shook herself thoroughly then started exploring, her nose fastened to the floor, snuffling along the skirtings and under the bookshelves. Her hackles were starting to rise. Every now and then she came back to Will to press her nose against him and brush more rain from her coat onto his already soaking trousers, then she returned to her search, growling deep in her throat.

  ‘What is it girl?’

  She paid no attention to him, but kept on searching until she came to the old sideboard. She looked at him and whined, then pressed her chest to the floor, trying to get her nose underneath the heavy piece of furniture. Will crossed the room and crouched down next to her. He reached under with his hand and pulled out a lump of dried mud. Keeper sat back, satisfied.