The sky hovered low overhead, a dark gray pressing down on him as Adam moved through the city streets. He shivered beneath his coat and dug his bare hands deep into his pockets, but he kept moving.
Trams and buses had long since stopped running for the night and wouldn’t start up again for a few more hours. He picked up his pace, knowing it would take over an hour to cover the distance back to Sylvia’s apartment.
He stayed on the main streets and hugged the buildings as he walked. The rough gray concrete that covered most of the city reflected the Soviet-era regime’s plan to create a city that would withstand the tests of time. They had thought only of wind and rain, snow and ice, not of the disdain of architects and artists.
Square block after square block of apartment buildings, stores, schools, barely distinguishable one from the other. Here and there, new construction stood out, colorful, round, angled, glimpses of joy and creativity against the dull background.
As Adam walked, he felt the hope of the city around him and he thought about his own hopes. He hoped that Sylvia was safe at home, away from the danger he had faced that night. Hoped she wasn’t part of Malak’s plot. Hoped she hadn’t known of his attempts at Łukasz’s life, his success at robbing Basia of hers.
The wind bit into his face and broke through the defenses of his woolen coat. He turned his shoulder as a cold blast blew across a wide intersection, stinging his ears with its bitter chill.
As he got closer to the Old Town, the buildings gradually changed. More and more new construction stood along the street, blotting out the dull grayness of the older architecture. Buildings designed to look like historic structures, designed according to the tastes of Poles generations ago. Buildings reclaiming Warsaw’s identity and style.
The sun had barely tinged the sky with streaks of orange and pink when Adam reached Ulica Miodowa, when he saw the giant metal men crawling out from their concrete bunker. Pausing, he searched for the police guard that had been present the past few days. He finally found the uniformed officer, sitting in a doorway a few doors down from Sylvia’s, his head lolling against the stone wall. Asleep.
He ran the last few yards to Sylvia’s door, then leaned on the bell. Glancing up, he saw that her apartment was dark, the curtains pulled tight.
He rang again. And again. And again.
Still there was no response.
He leaned on the bell for almost thirty seconds. He saw a curtain twitch in the apartment above Sylvia’s, but he didn’t care. He leaned on the bell again.
He was still pushing it when the front door flew open. Sylvia stood there wrapped in her pink robe. She started shivering as soon as she opened the door. Glancing quickly up and down the street, she grabbed Adam’s arm and pulled him into the building.
Without saying a word, she turned and ran up the stairs to her apartment. Adam followed closely behind.
Inside, she threw herself onto the sofa and wrapped herself in a thick, sheepskin rug. When all Adam could see was the tip of her head, she spoke.
“Well? Where have you been? What have you found?” she asked quietly.
Adam looked at her — at what he could see of her. He trusted her, he told himself again. She had helped him. She had been the one who suggested going to Malak for help. She wouldn’t have done that if she had known he was involved. Would she?
“Tell me about Malak, Sylvia. Tell me what you know.”
She peered out at him over the blanket, her blue eyes questioning. “What do you mean? You know Tomek, you know about him.”
“Do I? Do you? What do you really know about him, Sylvia? You must tell me, this is important.”
He sat on a blue-striped chair near the head of the sofa and leaned toward her. “Do you know about his past?”
“Ah… You are interested in the past. Yes, you always have been, haven’t you? Why is Tomek’s past of concern to you, Adam?”
He paused before responding, considering the answer. Why was Malak’s past important to him? The United States government seemed okay with it, willing to deal with him and his party, even knowing that Malak had been siphoning off profits that weren’t his. Businesses were happy to work with him, knowing he would ask for a little bit extra when the deal was done, gifts for himself or his family. No one else seemed to care, so why did he?
He didn’t, was the simple answer. He cared only for the present. For the people Malak was hurting now. Basia. Łukasz. And Sylvia.
“Tell me, Sylvia, how much do you know?” he asked again.
She nodded. “I know. I know that he has made some difficult choices. Choices that have helped him support his family even while he was helping Warsaw. Bringing good businesses into Warsaw. Perhaps leaving some of his history out of his lustration statement… it is not so unusual, we all have secrets. Like you” — she peered out at him — “like your great-grandfather.”
“What are you talking about? What does my great-grandfather have to do with this?”
“Nothing, Adam, nothing.” Sylvia’s voice was soothing. “I simply point out that we must all make decisions. Using the resources we have available.”
“Resources?” Adam’s mind was swimming. Malak. Wilenek. Sylvia. And now his grandfather’s father.
“Do you not see how difficult it would have been to leave Poland during the war? To leave safely? Difficult, that is, unless you had connections.”
“What kind of connections? What are you suggesting?”
She shrugged, a gesture burdened with meaning. The blanket shifted up and down with the movement. “Connections with people in power. Connections with the occupying forces. Connections with people who could make things happen, who could get him and his family out.”
Adam took one step back, shaking his head. “No, I don’t believe that.” He shook his head again. “No. And it doesn’t matter, that’s not why I’m here. This is about Malak. About what he’s done. And how much you know.”
Sylvia’s lips turned up into a weak smile. “About Tomek? I know, yes. I don’t care. It is done, you see. That is how business in Poland is done. The first time had been a mistake, he told me. He wished he could give it all back. But he couldn’t. No one can, you know. You can’t take back the past and do it again. He was sorry for what he had done. Once it had happened once, it was easier to do again. And again. These were small mistakes, a small price to pay for what he has to offer. His ideas. His strength. His dedication to this country. Yes, I know, but I am proud to work with him anyway.”
She stopped and took a breath, as if the speech had worn her out. “Now that you know of Tomek’s corruption,” she asked, “what will you do? And remember, my career is linked to his. What you do to him, you do to me.”
“There’s nothing left for me to do, Sylvia. Malak has done it to himself.”
She saw the sadness in his eyes and jumped from the sofa, still holding the blanket around her shoulders. “What’s happened? Where’s Tomek?”
“He’s in the hospital, Sylvia. Wilenek turned on him, finally. One killer turning on another.”
“What are you talking about?” She was almost crying. “What are you saying? Tomek was attacked? What did he have to do with any of this?”
“It was Malak all along, Sylvia. He was the one who killed Basia. He was the one who attacked Łukasz.”
“That’s not possible, I work with him. His crimes are only on paper. He is not violent, he would not attack anyone.”
“Not personally, perhaps. But he was responsible. He was a desperate man, Sylvia. The truth was becoming too dangerous for him. He couldn’t risk being exposed for what he really was.”
“For his corruption? No, I don’t believe that.” Sylvia shook her head. “The people will understand. He will explain to them the way he explained to me, and they will understand.”
“Maybe he could have, Sylvia. Not now, it’s too late. It wasn’t just corruption. It was his past, what he did. He hired a killer.”
“What he did? What does that mean? No…” She shook her head and looked at him as if he were an alien just landed from Mars. “That wasn’t Tomek.”
“It was Malak. He’s responsible for Basia’s death. He was trying to hide the truth, and he went too far. His killer —Wilenek — turned on him in the end.”
“Where’s Tomek, Adam?” Sylvia whispered. “I must go to him.”
“I told you, he’s in a hospital. I don’t know which one. They came and took him from his home.”
Sylvia nodded and moved toward the bedroom. “I know where he is. I will go to him.”
“Sylvia.” Adam grabbed her arm as she passed and the blanket fell down around her feet. She hadn’t asked him why — why he would be willing to kill, what secret he was trying to protect. “Sylvia, you really didn’t know about this, his role in the killing?”
She looked up at him in wonder. “How can you ask me this? Do you really not know me?”
She leaned in toward him and kissed him gently on the cheek. “I have worked with Tomek for so long, he is like a brother to me. A brother I care about. I hear what you are saying, that he has done terrible things. But I must go to him. I must see him.”
With that, she walked into her bedroom and shut the door. Adam let himself out of the apartment.