The Confession

65

I called Magda from home. It was a brief conversation; we did not speak of Leonek. Agnes had become bored by the second day, and her parents were starting to drive Magda crazy. “When are you going to take care of this guy so we can come home?”

“Home?” I asked. It seemed like a word we were no longer allowed to use. “Soon. I’ll bring you back home soon.”

Vera did not come over that night, and on Thursday morning when I arrived at the station, Sev was waiting for me. He waved me over. I moved stiffly. “Ferenc.” He paused. “The morning you discovered Stefan’s body, why were you there?”

I looked at his hands on the desk. “To talk with him about our case.”

Sev moved his hands so his thumbs touched, a movement I remembered from Lev Urlovsky. “I’m just doing my job, Ferenc. You know this.”

“I know.”

“So please tell me the truth.” The absence of emotion in his face always gave it a dull strength.

“What are you getting at?”

He glanced around the empty office. “I am aware of your animosity toward Stefan, and I also know it was unfounded.”

“I know that now, too.”

“Good. So tell me. Why did you go to Stefan’s that morning?”

Just talking about it made me feel as I did when I stood looking down on Stefan’s body-weak. I pulled up a chair. “To talk, Sev. That’s all. I just wanted to talk it out.”

“And you wouldn’t have attacked him again, like you did in that bar?”

“I don’t think so. Leonek is still alive, isn’t he?”

Sev nodded at his thumbs. “Thank you, Ferenc.”

I stumbled back and shuffled through the papers on my desk from the past few days. Among the circulars about new penal codes from the Politburo was a scribbled phone message. Kliment had called.

I struggled with the Russian operators, using the words I knew and listening to them use all the words I didn’t know. I gave them the direct number Kliment had left. “Da?”

“This is Ferenc Kolyeszar.”

“Ferenc. Thanks for calling. Look.” He paused. “I’ve got some terrible news, you’re not going to like it.”

“I’ve gotten a lot of bad news lately. I can probably take it.”

“Two days ago Svetla Woznica was killed in her village. She was shot once in the chest and once in the head. They found her body in the woods outside town.”

I took a long breath. “I can’t believe it.”

“Believe it. And it’s clear enough who did it.”

“Was he seen there?”

“He didn’t hide. He arrived the day before by train, spent a lot of money in the hotel, and disappeared just before the body was found. He crossed over at Turka.”

“I can’t believe it,” I repeated.

“I’ve seen it before. Some men are that way. If they can’t have their woman, then no one can.”

I fogged over, thumbing my rings until they hurt, remembering that battered face at the train station, kissing my hands. But he was speaking again.

“-can’t do anything about it now. With the proper papers, I could follow him there, but it’s not the sort of thing they’ll sign for. I wish I could.”

“You’ve done enough, Kliment. Thank you. I’ll take care of it.”

“I figured you would, Ferenc. Watch out for yourself.”

As I hung up I looked over at Sev looking back at me. I think that was the closest I ever came to killing Brano Sev, even though he had nothing to do with Svetla’s death. But he was one of many-like the missing Kaminski-whose positions made them feel they could not be touched. I filled his empty features with all the evil in the world. He blinked. I stood up. But instead of ending everything right then, I made myself walk out the door.