News of Żelazny’s activities reached Chyłka in no time: Kormak phoned her right after he had finished pulling apart Oryński’s computer. She had to admit that he’d stepped up to the plate and allied himself with the rightful side in the conflict.
‘Do you think the attack had anything to do with Langer? Should I be scared?’
‘Yes, and of me too, if you don’t stop asking biased questions.’
‘But . . .’
‘But Zordon was not beaten up and thrown out in Izabelin because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time,’ said Chyłka. ‘The Langer case now stinks to high heaven, if it hadn’t stunk before. And I intend to find out exactly why.’
‘What about Żelazny? Do you think he has anything to do with it?’
‘I doubt it,’ replied Chyłka.
Absurd question. What would the owner of a firm have to do with the beating up of one of his trainees? Of course, in a way it did look like collusion. But with whom? Langer Senior was no longer of this world, and Żelazny would gain nothing by having Zordon brought to the brink of death.
This didn’t alter the fact that everyone should now be treated as a suspect.
Someone must have been watching Oryński, must have waited for him to leave the Skylight building. Perhaps the attacker had an informant on the inside, and knew when Kordian would be leaving work.
‘Are you still there?’
‘Yes,’ replied Joanna, realising she had her phone pressed hard against her ear. ‘I was just thinking.’
‘Have you got a plan?’
‘Beat the whores and the thieves.’
‘Seriously, Chyłka. What are we going to do?’
‘I’ll sit with Zordon a little while longer, then you come and take my place while I go and visit Langer. Either he can start talking sense or he can forget about the cassation appeal.’
‘Ah yes, speaking of which,’ cut in Kormak, ‘Kordian found a ruling from the 1970s that would give you good grounds for a cassation appeal. I’ll text you the reference.’
Joanna looked at Oryński’s closed eyes. Kormak hung up.
It seemed like a clear connection. Kordian found something, but before he could tell anyone, he was attacked. But that was just too pat, too predictable. No one would risk anything that obvious.
The whole case was raising more and more questions, and there was only one person who could answer them.
She sat on tenterhooks, waiting for Kormak. Once or twice, she wondered whether she should hold Zordon’s hand or talk to him, but decided it was pointless.
Glancing nervously towards the corridor, she realised she couldn’t bear to sit there any longer.
Soon she was in her X5, speeding towards Białołęka Prison. Having raced down Armia Krajowa Street, she was well over the speed limit on General Stefan Grot Rowecki Bridge, weaving in and out between the cars, cursing Langer, the law firm, Żelazny and anyone who was in any way responsible for bringing Zordon to the brink of death. She was prepared to do anything to find the perpetrators.