The Confession

64

At the station, I saw Leonek for the first time since before the provinces. His hair was a little long, and oily, and he looked pale. But he was smiling about something, and that smile kept me from being able to focus on anything. He pulled up a chair. “Not only has Kliment found Boris Olonov, but he interrogated the son of a bitch. The transcript should arrive tomorrow.”

I stared at him, expressionless. “Did he kill Sergei?”

“Kliment didn’t tell me much, but he did say that while Boris isn’t my man, he was one of the soldiers who killed the girls. There’s something else in the interview. He wouldn’t tell me what it was-he wants it to be a surprise. But he said it should begin to bring everything together.”

I continued to stare at him.

“Kliment’s very interested in this case.”

“Of course. It’s his father.”

“Yes,” said Leonek, nodding, his smile wavering. “Look, I’m going to give the Jewish quarter another try. If I tell them we’ve got one of the girls’ murderers, maybe I can get something more. Come along?”

I shrugged.

On the drive, he began telling me about how he had almost given the case up. “So many blind alleys. I thought it would have been easier. What about your case? How’s it coming?”

“It’s coming.”

Leonek patted a dark hand against the horn, frightening an old woman in the middle of the street, and I couldn’t help but think of all the things that hand had touched. “He mailed the interview transcript, it should arrive by tomorrow.”

“You told me that.”

Leonek gave me a look I’d seen before, and only now did I understand where the shame had always come from. “You all right, Ferenc?” He spoke quietly. He didn’t want to ask, but there was no choice. “Is there something wrong?”

I turned to watch a group of workers with pickaxes walk by, their breaths coming out like smoke. “Maybe it’s the thing I had to learn from my wife.”

He brought a hand down from the wheel. He seemed to recognize how close we were in this car, and that he was trapped. Then an ounce of courage came into him, and he put the hand back on the wheel. “I’m not proud of it, Ferenc. But I do love her. Honestly.”

“That makes me feel better.”

“I don’t mean it that way. But I do love her, and I love Agnes as well.”

He had no right to love my daughter. I shifted, just to watch him lower his hand again. “You know, I would be fully justified in beating the hell out of you. No one would argue this.”

His voice was a whisper. “I know.”

I stared at him as he drove. He had nothing to say-or, he probably had a lot to say, but knew none of it would come out right, so he kept quiet. I didn’t have anything more to say. I only wanted him to know that I knew, and to be afraid. I would not hurt him-I could not do that to Magda-but Leonek didn’t need to know that.

When he came to a stoplight, I placed my hat on my head and opened the door. “Good luck in the Jewish quarter.” I stepped out, and the bright light made me sneeze.