by D K Bohlman
‘You saw her after that?’
‘Yes, we spoke about her visit to him. But I think she was planning on seeing him again. I don’t know if that happened. I didn't see her after that.’
Jenna slowed down her questioning. It might be jumping to conclusions, but Marton Kovacs seemed like her likely next port of call.
‘I assume you told the police this?’
There was a short silence.
‘Actually no, I don’t think I did. At least, I’m not sure. I don’t think they asked that question like you did.’
‘Well, that’s odd. Or pretty useless of the police. I think you should tell them, Eszter. It may help a lot. In the meantime, I’ll see what Mr Kovacs has to say.’
Eszter hesitated before she agreed. ‘Yes, OK I’ll call and tell them.’
Jenna nodded. ‘I’ll give you my number and email, let me know if there’s anything else you can think of that’s important. I might talk to you again. It’s possible myself or my boss will be coming to Budapest soon to understand more. Thanks for your time, Eszter.’
Jenna clicked the call off and thought about what to suggest to Calum. Visiting or calling Marton Kovacs had to be the next step. Given the circumstances, it seemed looking him in the eye would be the better option.
She yawned and pulled herself a cider out of the fridge. It was pretty much all there was in the fridge, so she made some toast and jam to go with it.
It was getting late by the time she finished her snack. She peeked out through the drawn curtains. Yep, there was her protection, sat in an unmarked police car. He’d been with her for a couple of days now, they said they’d probably stick with it for a couple of weeks then review. Unless they felt they’d cracked what Burton was up to any earlier.
Sleep came fast. Alcohol just before bedtime always did that.
But, just as certainly, wakefulness came early too. Around five a.m. she stumbled out of bed into the bathroom, trying not to wake her flatmate. She peed with the light off and left the flush. Her mouth was dry so she ran half a tumbler of water in the kitchenette and sipped it down.
She heard rain against the front windowpanes, the sash frames rattling gently in their sockets as a brisk wind blew through the street. She wandered over to the window and pulled the curtains back a touch, expecting that warm feeling of being inside and snug against the wind and rain.
She did feel that. But the warmth faded as she saw her protection was gone. She pulled her face back into the shadows behind the curtains and squinted up and down the street, through the rain-splattered grime of the glass. Yep, totally gone as far as she could see. Maybe he’d gone to the 24-hour McD’s for some coffee or an early breakfast. The street was deserted at least.
But there was a strange feeling of pressure on her face. Like the rays of sun you felt but couldn't touch. Except this felt less sunny. Like she’d felt before, after she’d last seen Gregor.
She snapped the curtains shut and turned back into the room. It was pitch black and her eyes hadn’t adjusted to it after the glare of the street lights. She walked towards her bedroom door by memory.
Then she was flat on her front, her left shin stinging and her forehead reeling from a hard blow. She rolled onto her back, moaning, trying to suppress a scream.
Amy’s room door opened and the room lights went on. Jenna screwed her eyes up at her flatmate as she came into the lounge.
‘What on earth are you doing? You woke me up.’
‘Ouch, my head hurts. Sorry, I got up and fell over something. Think it was the coffee table, it must have moved a bit. I think I hit my head on the doorframe.’
Amy smiled weakly. ‘Yeah, sorry, think I moved it to put my legs up on, watching TV last night. Let’s have a look at your head.’
Time to travel
____________________________
After a totally oversold pitch from Jenna, on why they needed to interview various individuals in Budapest, Calum agreed with Susan McTeer a visit was necessary and outlined a budget with her. Dull but necessary. In Calum’s experience, clients all too easily got upset if costs weren't clearly agreed upfront, even if they brought great outcomes.
He booked a flight for himself and three nights in the hotel where Sarah had stayed. Staying there might prove useful later on, being “on location” as it were. He hoped that would be long enough to get around everybody and double back on interviews if he needed to.
He considered Jenna. He knew she wanted to come, probably mostly for the trip but once she got her mind into something, it was hard to keep her from it. He’d have to tell her not this time. That bit he was putting off. He smiled to himself and shook his head. It was hard to put into words … he was her boss and yet he had to answer to her sometimes. It suited him somehow, though.
Bugger it, he’d do it now. He picked up his phone and took a deep breath.
‘Are we sorted for Budapest then, boss?’
No damn tact sometimes. ‘Yep. Just me for now. We’ll see how it goes.’
She was ready for that.
‘OK.’
Calum smile-frowned. Too simple. ‘Really? Good.’
‘Yes. Once you’re there on your own you’ll realise why you need me. Waste of my time waiting for that process to happen. I’ve uni work to do. Take your time and call me when you need me. I’ve done a pile of research on Arrow Cross, by the way. I expect it’ll be useful at some point. Hope Eszter opens up to you, though I got the feeling she might be more receptive to a woman.’
The phone clicked off at Jenna’s end.
Calum shook his head. Man, could she be annoying when she wanted to. Annoying and naggingly persuasive. He turned his attention to his packing and wondered whether, if he slipped a couple of his favourite pork pies in the case, they might stay fresh for a couple of days.
Beginning in Budapest
____________________________
The air of calm civilisation was what struck Calum most about Budapest. Grand buildings and wide streets. People that know their city is beautiful. Something like Edinburgh. Not Glasgow or Aberdeen.
His interview list was: Marton Kovacs; Eszter Borbely; the library. Then take it from there. The local police he really wasn’t sure about. He had no contacts or third-party network into that organisation. For now, he’d try to do without talking to them.
He arrived in the evening, to be disappointed by the lack of Talisker in the hotel bar. The Grand Danubius hotel seemed a bit dreary. A faded beauty, quiet. He congratulated himself on having brought a half-bottle of the wondrous stuff in his bag and retired to his room to enjoy a dram before turning in.
The next morning, an early breakfast of ham, eggs, and coffee spurred him on to get started immediately. He strolled to the central library, thankful for his warm overcoat. The air was stone cold and the sky grey. One of those days that chills the bones.
He walked up to the reception desk in the lobby. A long wooden bar, with the thick glass-like polish of decades protecting its surface. He headed for the younger of the two receptionists, gauging this would probably mean better English. His name badge announced him as Janos.
‘Hello, I wonder if I can ask you a few questions about some researchers that have been here, a couple of weeks ago now. My name is Calum Neuman, I’m a private investigator helping the family of Sarah McTeer. Sarah has been reported missing since she last spent time in this library. Are you aware of this?’
The tall young man behind the desk blushed slightly. ‘Yes, we have all heard this, of course. The police have been here asking about her.’
He paused for thought.
‘I think I will have to ask my manager if it is OK to talk to you. Just a moment.’
He disappeared through a door behind reception and closed it. Within a minute he was back.
‘Yes, she says it is OK. What do you want to know?’
Calum motioned for him to follow him to the end of the desk, away from the reception queue, so they could speak more discreetly.
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The young man didn't play ball, though. He moved only slightly away from the door he’d passed through and silently insisted Calum start to talk by cocking his head to listen.
‘OK. So do you know how long she was here, how often and what she was working on?
‘Yes, we told the police all that. A few days, most days for a few hours, usually in the mornings but not always. With another academic, from Budapest. They were researching Arrow Cross.’
‘Did they have any books or papers out on loan?’
‘Not that we know. Not according to our records. Not unless they smuggled something out.’
Calum looked up from his notebook. The boy’s eyes danced around a little.
‘People do that here?’
‘Well, yes like everywhere I think. Not all of our books have a security tag on them, so we can’t be completely safe from thieves. But, I mean, I don’t think these ladies stole anything, of course.’
Calum nodded. ‘Sure. So, did they meet anyone else while they were here do you know?’
‘Not in the library as far as we know. We don’t watch our visitors all the time, of course. The police looked at our CCTV, maybe they can help you?’
Calum’s instinct kindled his interest.
‘Do you know if they found anything like that? Them talking to anyone else?’
‘They didn’t tell us.’
Calum took a deep breath.
‘Would you mind if I had a look at the CCTV files too?’
‘I’m sorry. I was told we can’t let anyone else see those. It’s our visitors’ privacy, you see. Of course, the police had the right to see them. But not anyone else.’
A stonewall, final answer response.
Janos threw his eyes left, almost glancing over his shoulder at the open doorway behind him. No one came through.
Calum pushed him a bit further about their patterns of work and managed to get some idea of a few texts they’d been reading or interested in. It didn’t feel like that would help at all, but he knew not to turn down information, however peripheral it seemed at first.
‘Sir, I’m afraid I need to help the queue now.’
He nodded to the line of visitors at the desk and his colleague who was starting to look as if she was going to give him a piece of her mind at any moment.
‘OK, thank you. I might come back after I’ve made some more checks. But thanks for now.’
‘You're welcome.’ He smiled and turned to the queue, encouraging Calum to move.
Calum swivelled to leave and stuffed his notebook back into his pocket. He looked back over his shoulder to nod goodbye. Janos was gone. Not helping with the queue.
*
Beata moved away from the doorframe as she heard Calum bid his farewell and sat down. Janos came through immediately.
‘So what did he want to know? I heard a little of it.’
‘Same sort of questions as the police, Miss Sandor. He seemed OK. I told him he couldn’t look at our CCTV, that’s right?’
Beata smiled. ‘Well done. They’re a nuisance with all these questions, nothing more. I suppose they have to ask them. The poor girl’s family must be very worried.’
Janos looked aside and asked a question.
‘Did the police say they had found anything on the CCTV?’
‘No. Not that I know. I don’t think a library could be involved in her disappearing, though, do you? I’m sure there was something else going on here. It’ll all come clear when the police finish their investigations, I’m sure.’
Janos looked at her and shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Anyway, I’d better go, or else Hanna is going to murder me for the size of the queue.’
Beata smiled again as Janos turned and went back to the front desk.
Her smile faded like a dropped stone as he went through the door. They needed to cut this new threat off cleanly … but she wasn’t sure how. She dialled Peter, then Marton’s private numbers. Neither of them answered. That was odd. Especially Marton, he hardly went anywhere these days. She’d try them again later.
TWO WEEKS EARLIER
Sarah visits Marton
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Sarah stepped out of the cab, toting her grey rucksack and looked up at the facade of Hotel Cristal. It was lovely, like all the building fronts along this road. She paid the driver and strode up the stone steps into the lobby. The floor was laid with gleaming tiles and narrow walkways of well-worn patterned carpet. Traditional, cared for, old-fashioned. She walked up to the wood-panelled front desk.
She was greeted by a young girl. Smartly dressed, she spoke in a pleasing, even tone. It felt welcoming.
‘Hello, I’m here to see Mr Kovacs. I have an appointment at two o’clock.’
‘Ah, OK. Just a moment please, I’ll ask the manager to help with that.’
The girl disappeared around the back of a glass panel behind reception. Less than a minute later she reappeared, followed by a tall and much older woman. Well past retirement age by the look of her skin.
‘Miss McTeer? I’m Aliz Gal, the manager of the hotel. I believe you are due to see Mr Kovacs at two o’clock?’
Sarah nodded, noticed she didn’t use the term manageress. ‘Hello.’
‘Well. You are a few minutes early but I have just called Mr Kovacs. He can see you straight away. Please come with me.’
Obviously comfortable in her managerial skin.
Aliz ushered her down the main corridor with a small flourish of the hand. She walked slightly ahead of Sarah, with a sedate, almost cat-walk perfect stride. She had the air of a woman with long-held confidence.
The lift was open and they stepped in and stood on opposite sides. As she pressed the button for the 4th floor, Aliz stared at Sarah’s face. Stared to the point where it was uncomfortable.
‘Please remember Mr Kovacs is a very old man. He is frail. So I hope you will be gentle with him and leave as soon as he is tired please?’
Not really a question. Sarah was already feeling intimidated by this woman.
‘Of course. I will.’
The lift bleeped as it reached the 4th floor. Aliz stepped out first and led Sarah to room 41. She knocked lightly on the door.
A frail, but somehow strong voice replied. ‘Kerlek faradj be.’
Aliz opened the door, announced the guest and withdrew, leaving Sarah stood in the room. She looked down at Marton Kovacs. Big head, rheumy blue eyes. A large but slim frame, clearly ravaged by time. Maybe illness. A man who would once have been quite imposing. He was sat in a wheelchair, his legs half-covered by a blanket.
‘Welcome,’ he said. ‘Please sit down.’ He indicated a pair of winged leather chairs close to where he was positioned.
‘One of these used to be mine, but I can’t easily use it now. So choose whichever you like.’
Sarah smiled, looked around the room as she walked over to one of the chairs and sat down.
‘This is a lovely old room.’ She meant it too. It was filled with old but expensive furniture. Obviously kept clean and tidy. There was an air of calm, faded luxury around it all.
‘Thank you … may I call you Sarah?’ he enquired with a faint smile. He looked a bit nervous to her eye.
‘Of course. I don’t want to take too much of your time up Mr Kovacs. Just to help me with my research. I’ll take some notes if that’s OK?’ She pulled a blue leather notebook out of her rucksack.
Marton nodded his agreement. ‘Let’s begin. I often become tired after half an hour of talking. So I hope you’ll forgive me if I call a stop when I’ve had enough.’
*
More than an hour later, they were still deep in conversation. It seemed Marton was enjoying describing the roots of the Arrow Cross movement, his part in it, his family, life in Hungary at that time. Doesn’t everyone like to talk about when they were young, invincible, unfettered by a life that has mostly played out? His manner was tinged with unease, though.
‘Of course, it was really about b
eing Hungarian. Being a strong nation, not subservient to another. Our motivation was a pure one, I think.’
‘No, I don’t think our leader, Szalasi, was like Hitler. Hitler … and Germany … were conveniently useful to Szalasi.’
‘Well, yes, the party attacked the Jews. We are not proud of that. But it wasn’t really about the Jews, it was about Hungary for Hungarians.’
‘I’m not sure it actually went wrong, Sarah. But well, the war ended and Arrow Cross was shut down, as you know. Many of the leaders were executed. So we will never know how things would have turned out, will we?’
‘Me? Well, I was young, some of my friends were with Arrow Cross before they took power, I joined them, I was fed up with the war pulling our people apart, of the foreigners in our midst. I wanted to help my country.’
‘My father agreed with what I was doing actually. My mother, of course, was worried too!’
‘Now? I feel a little ashamed about some of the bad things that were done. It is all so long ago now. But I think Hungarian people still feel they want to keep their country free of outside influence. These days, there are a lot of people coming to Hungary. I’m not sure that is a good thing. Perhaps one day, Arrow Cross will start again. In a different way, of course.’
Sarah had sucked it all in and thrown it out into her notebook, balanced on the arm of the chair with her left hand as her right scribbled feverishly.
Marton’s last comment triggered a thought that Eszter had voiced yesterday.
‘So, do you think the Arrow Cross will reform, or as you say, take on a new, modern guise?’
She peered at Marton, searching for a reaction.
And there was something wrong about it. He looked away briefly. He hadn’t done that so far, not that she could remember anyway.
He turned back with a faint smile on his face. ‘I don’t know, I leave that to the young people. It is their future now, not mine.’
She nodded.
‘Well, Sarah, I’m afraid it’s time for my nap, I’m a little tired now, I hope you understand. I hope I have been helpful to you?’