A Blind Eye: Book 1 in the Adam Kaminski Mystery Series

by Jane Gorman

  Łukasz smiled briefly, then looked down at his glass. “I believe you might be able to help us.”

  He tilted his head back as he downed the clear liquid in a smooth motion, replacing his glass on the small table.

  “I believe the criminal has already attempted to cover up his crimes with murder. He killed a young woman who found him out, and now he is trying to kill Adam and myself.”

  Malak shook his head in surprise. “No. That is not possible. If there had been a murder in the Sejm, I would have heard about it.”

  “Basia Kaminski.”

  “Ah…” Malak nodded and looked at the ground. “I understand now.” He paused. “But that was ruled a suicide, was it not?”

  “It was murder. I’m sure of it.” Łukasz spoke quickly.

  Malak shrugged and his face showed his indecision.

  “Don’t you want to know if it is true, Tomek?” Sylvia said, leaning forward.

  Malak stood, replacing the bottle on its shelf and carefully closing the door of the armoire. He walked over to her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Of course I want to know. I simply do not believe it is possible.”

  She smiled up at him and nodded. “I know how closely you work with everyone in the Sejm. I know how important this is to you.”

  Adam frowned and jumped into the conversation. “Yes, but what if there’s more? Digging into Basia’s death has led Łukasz to believe there is corruption within the legislature. A minister, or ministers, are using their positions for personal gain.”

  Malak smiled at Sylvia one more time, then regained his seat. “Perhaps” — he shrugged — “it is possible. This is politics.” He raised a hand before anyone could utter a protest. “I agree, if there is someone stealing from the people of Warsaw, from the people of Poland, this would indeed be a horrible crime.”

  “That’s not all. Whoever it is, he or she has tried to stop me several times. My life has been threatened. And now another life has been taken.”

  “What… what are you saying?” Malak asked, his concern clear on his face. “Has someone else been killed?”

  “Jared White, whom you met the other day,” Sylvia answered softly. “He has been killed. In a vicious attack.”

  “My God!” Malak stood again and paced around the room, once again coming to rest near Sylvia, his hand on her shoulder. “This is terrible. And he was here as an ambassador, seeking a closer relationship with the United States. This cannot be.”

  “It is, Tomek. He is dead. He died this morning.”

  “How could I not have heard of this?” Malak wondered aloud.

  Adam was wondering the same thing, but kept his answer brief. “It was in all the papers, sir, and on the TV news. I am surprised you had not heard.”

  “You must have been locked in committee meetings all day, Tomek; you mustn’t feel bad about this,” Sylvia tried to comfort him.

  “Not meetings, a hearing.” Malak seemed distracted as he answered her. “We are moving forward with action on a lustration case. Very rare. It has taken all of my focus.”

  “What case is this?” Adam asked. “I hadn’t heard about it.”

  “Oh no, you would not have. It’s too sensitive, we are keeping quiet about it. Once the legislative committee makes a decision, it will be passed on to the courts. It only becomes public information at that point.”

  He looked around the room. “I should not have shared as much as I just did, it was very unprofessional, I apologize. It’s only this news that you bring me — of criminal activity, murder even — has upset me very much. I love this country and I love this city. I have given so much to it, I cannot stand the thought of it slowly crumbling apart under the weight of corruption and crime. This has happened to too many countries. Not Poland. No!”

  Sylvia looked as if she had been brought to tears by Malak’s speech. “It is a horrible thing, but we think you may be able to help. You can help us find out who is behind this and bring that person to justice.”

  Malak nodded absentmindedly as the others stood and prepared to leave. “Two murders, then. Two.”

  “You must look into this yourself, Malak,” Łukasz explained, “you must find out who has committed a crime so heinous that he is willing to kill to cover it up. We need your help.”

  “Of course,” Malak responded, “I will help you in any way I can. But I cannot let it take time away from this other proceeding, you understand. We must not look indifferent in our response to this accusation of collaboration.”

  “There is a criminal working in this government, sir. Isn’t a criminal investigation more urgent? This is about the present, not the past.”

  “Yes, perhaps.” Malak said. “Some people believe that we must resolve problems from the past in order to move forward, that lustration is really about the future, not the past. It is important for the lustration process to proceed. The citizens must be fully informed. They must trust the system.”

  With that, Malak guided them back down the elegant staircase to the heavy front door. “I will help you, do not worry,” he said as he stepped onto the path that led down to the sidewalk.

  Adam and Łukasz shook his hand. Sylvia gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. The three of them turned to head back to the bus stop.

  Adam paused at the sidewalk and looked back at Malak. He had turned his face to the black sky, where only a handful of stars were visible through the light streaming upward from the city’s many buildings. He heard Malak say something under his breath and he grabbed Sylvia.

  “What did he just say?” he asked.

  Sylvia stopped and watched Malak. “He is expressing his hope that he can regain control, that he can take action and not simply be a victim.” She looked at Adam. “This is something that he believes in, I know. Too many Poles are willing to let others handle their problems. They become victims to other people’s desires instead of being in control of their own.”

  Adam pulled Sylvia toward him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as he turned back to the street. “We will stop these guys, Sylvia. Whoever they are. We will take control.”

  36

  Adam slept with one eye open that night, listening for anything out of the ordinary. On the few occasions when he left Sylvia’s bedroom to look out the window and check the hallway, he saw Łukasz lying awake on the sofa. They were both too worried to sleep.

  Sylvia nevertheless insisted on going in to work that morning. As a result of the time she’d spent shepherding the group from Philadelphia, she was sorely behind in her regular work, she explained. Not to mention her coursework. One way or another, she needed to get things done, either at her office or at the university.

  “No. No way,” Adam said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m not letting you out of my sight. Not until we’ve figured out what’s going on and who’s behind it all.” His tone softened when he saw the anger building in her eyes. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all. Surely you can understand that?”

  “I think you should be more worried about yourself.” She smiled, but her eyes were sharp. “I was not in any danger before you brought it into my life, you know.”

  Flinching as if slapped, Adam took a step back. “You know what, you’re right about that. I guess it is my fault that you’re involved in all this. Which is exactly why I feel responsible for protecting you. And I can’t do that if I can’t see you, if I’m not there with you.”

  Sylvia flung her arms up in despair.

  “Friends… friends.” Łukasz walked between them. “We cannot turn on each other. We need each other right now. Cousin.” Łukasz turned to Adam. “Think about it. Isn’t her office the safest place for Pani Stanko right now? A secure building… with guards protecting her?”

  Adam couldn’t argue with the logic. “I suppose that’s true.”

  “Thank you, Pan Kaminski.” Sylvia started gathering her coat and bag. “As if I need permission from either of you to go to work.”

  “Good, that’s settled,
” Łukasz said. “I have a few more places to look at the newspaper archives, so I will continue my work there. Shall we meet for lunch?”

  Sylvia frowned. “If I can make it, I will. We shall see.”

  Adam followed her out of the apartment, calling to her as she walked away. “Be safe. Please.” She simply waved in response, without turning around.

  The day was cold, but clear and bright. Even the wind had lessened, as if willing to give the residents of Warsaw a short reprieve before launching them into the depths of winter. Adam’s breath hung in the air around him as he walked quickly to the Hotel Newport from Sylvia’s apartment.

  Adam’s thoughts were on his friends when he entered the hotel lobby. It was a rookie mistake. He let his guard down.

  When she jumped at him from the side, he was caught by surprise.

  “You! So you are still alive. I was hoping you weren’t.”

  “Angela.” Adam took a step backward, but Angela matched his stride.

  “Jared’s dead. We’re stuck in this country until the police tell us it’s okay to leave.” She brushed a hand roughly over her cheeks, wiping away a tear as if embarrassed by it. “And where have you been? Do you even know what’s going on?”

  “Calm down.” Adam put a firm hand on her arm and guided her over to a discreet seating area against the wall. “You’re angry, I know. Don’t make a scene here.”

  Anger flashed in her eyes and she twisted her arm out of his grip. “Why the hell not? Why shouldn’t I make a scene?”

  “I’m so sorry, Angela.” Adam shook his head and lowered his face so he could look her in the eye. “This is my fault. It’s my fault Jared is dead. And I am so sorry. I wish I could take it back. I wish I could change things.” He closed his eyes and ran his hand over his face.

  His obvious concern seemed to mollify her slightly, but she was still breathing quickly when she asked him, “What do you mean? What did you do?”

  Adam nodded as he gathered his thoughts, trying to keep his emotions in control. “I’ve gotten involved in an investigation, Angela. With my cousin.”

  “That’s what you told me before. That he was researching a story and you were helping him. What kind of story is it that it got Jared killed?” Even as she spoke, the tears came once again to her eyes. This time she didn’t brush them away. “Adam, I’m scared.”

  He took both her hands in his and held them close to his chest. “I know. I can understand that. I’m scared, too. I really believe you’ll be safe, as long as you stay away from me.”

  “Oh, fine!” Angela stood up, jerking her hands away from him. “Stay away from you. You’re the only person who seems to know what’s going on. It seems like you’re the only person who can protect me, and you’re telling me to stay away from you.”

  Adam stood as well. “I will protect you Angela, as best I can. I promise you.” He glanced around the lobby. “You just need to stay out of sight for a while. And not be seen with me. What did the police tell you to do?”

  “The police told us we needed to stay in Warsaw for another day or two, to answer questions. They’re coming back to the hotel later today and they want to meet with each of us.” She lifted her chin toward Adam. “They’ll want to meet with you, too, you know.”

  “I have no doubt of that. Look, you need to take care of yourself. Go back to your room. Go to the gym. Just stay in the hotel today. You’ll be safe here. No one is after you. It’s me they want. And I’m not going to hang around here.”

  “No, of course you’re not. You’re going to leave us alone again. Leave me alone again.” Her eyes flashed as her tears caught the light from the window. “You just leave, then. See if I care.”

  With those words, Angela ran toward the stairs that led back to her room. Adam lifted his hand as if to reach out to her, but he didn’t call out.

  37

  Silent rows of pale metal shelving marched forward as far as the eye could see, filling the vast hall that comprised the newspaper’s old archives. Brown cardboard boxes stacked on the shelves seemed to absorb the white lights that shone down from the ceiling, creating strange shadows along the narrow aisles.

  Łukasz grunted as he raised his arms to pull down another box, shifting his posture slightly to keep his weight on his left side. A puff of dust escaped from between the boxes and Łukasz sneezed.

  He carried the box back to the table along the wall, placing it next to the five other boxes he had already gone through. Some of the material he was looking for had already been digitized, and scanning through that had been quick. The archivists were working their way backwards through the old materials. Anything from within the past five years was digital, anything before that was still in the boxes.

  Łukasz sneezed again as he lifted the lid off the next box and started rifling through the papers neatly filed inside.

  Adam hadn’t supported Łukasz’s decision to come back to the newspaper archives this afternoon, and Łukasz fumed as he thought of Adam’s comments over lunch just an hour earlier.

  “Cousin, we need to find out who’s behind this. Without support from the police, we have no other choice. We cannot simply sit back and wait for the next attack.” Łukasz replaced his spoon in his soup bowl and wiped his lips.

  “I know you’re right, Łukasz. I just know that you’re putting yourself in unnecessary danger. Wait until tomorrow. Wait until the offices are open and there are other people with you. There’s safety in numbers. Today is not the day to go wandering into closed, empty spaces, is it?” Adam raised his spoon to his lips as he spoke and his face puckered at the first sour sting of the barley and kielbasa soup.

  Łukasz grinned. “And what will you do while I am hiding away, trying to stay safe, hmm? Will you also be protecting yourself? Staying in hiding?”

  “I want to go back to the embassy. I think that’s the only place I can find help at this point.” He glanced at his watch, then looked up at the entrance. No one came through. “I just don’t know if I’ll be able to get hold of anybody on a Sunday afternoon.”

  Łukasz considered his cousin. “It’s not your fault. You can’t protect everyone. You can’t control everything.” He paused, but when Adam didn’t respond he continued, “If anything, this is my fault, for dragging you and your colleagues into my investigation.”

  “I should have seen it coming.” Adam’s response was sharp. “I should have been able to protect Jared. Now I have to protect Sylvia.”

  Most of the tables in the milk bar where they ate were occupied and the noise of multiple conversations grew as the lunch hour progressed. The hum of voices surrounded them, covering up their conversation. Łukasz put his spoon down in his żurek and looked at his cousin over the plastic table.

  “Was your work this morning not productive?” he asked.

  “Ha.” Adam’s laugh came out as a bark. “I got ahold of my partner, Pete, at home, so that was good. He hadn’t even heard about Jared’s murder yet. Can you believe that? Our friends at the State Department didn’t see the value of bringing the Philly PD into the picture.”

  “You told him, so now he can help?”

  “I hope so.” Adam shrugged. “He’ll be able to reach out to the folks at the Philadelphia International Council, too, to see if they can help me get into the national archives.”

  “And is there something else bothering you?” Łukasz pressed, as Adam continued to frown down at his soup.

  “I caught Pete at home because of the time difference… it was still early morning in Philly.” Adam spoke softly. “But Julia, my sister, I couldn’t reach her. I guess she wasn’t at home.”

  “You cannot protect everyone, cousin,” Łukasz repeated, shaking his head. “No one can.”

  “I can’t stop you, can I?” Adam asked, looking up. “From continuing your own research?”

  “No, cousin, you can’t. You know I must find the truth, simply for this to end. I cannot stop now. I will not.”

  Adam nodded. “Fine. Do what
you have to do. But be careful. Please.”

  As they left the restaurant, Łukasz turned right toward the newspaper offices. It was a long walk, but he needed the time, and the air, to focus his thoughts and figure out the best way to organize his search through the paper’s archives.

  The walk had worked for him. He arrived at the archives with a mental list of exactly which old stories he should start with, which files he needed to revisit. As soon as he had entered the darkened building, he moved quickly to the room that held the files he wanted, turning on only the lights he needed.

  Cones of white light tapered off into pools of darkness, highlighting sections of shelves, parts of tables. In the darkness, Łukasz could hear the floorboards settling. A book shifted on the shelf, finally succumbing to someone’s placement earlier in the day. Muted sounds of traffic filtered in from the street outside.

  Łukasz focused on his work, ignoring the sounds of the empty building.

  Three hours later, cardboard boxes were piled high on the floor around the table. He jerked his head at a noise hinting of a door closing in the distance. He waited, but no footsteps followed. No colleague appeared out of the darkness that surrounded him.

  Łukasz returned his gaze to the table and squinted his reddened eyes as he read the last of the files.

  A series of articles covered the table in front of him. Some were stories that had been run years before in the paper. Others were notes from stories that had never run. They each had one element in common: Tomek Malak.

  “Stavos Foundation Announces Malak Fellowship” announced the first headline, ten years after the fact. The Stavos Foundation had opened their Warsaw offices twelve years ago. The nonprofit supported an international exchange program for university students and ten years ago, two years after arriving in Warsaw, had created a scholarship in Malak’s name.

  The story covered a press conference held by the organization to announce the new program. Malak was being recognized for his efforts to help the foundation. Buried within the article was the fact that the organization had succeeded in a tight competition against other institutions, each looking to acquire a government grant for their work. Whoever had written the article hadn’t gone into detail about that competition, but it caught Łukasz’s eye. Mostly because he knew one year after this story had been published, Malak’s daughter Sonja had spent a year at Oxford on just such an international program.