The Whole Truth

CHAPTER 53

WHILE SHAW WAS INSIDE THE BUILDING Katie had been busy outside. She’d actually gotten there before him and had hidden around a corner when she saw him arrive by cab. She’d flashed her no-longer-valid press badge at the officer on duty outside the entrance and fired off a series of questions to which the man in blue offered not a single answer.

“Move along,” he said, his beefy face showing considerable irritation.

“Not into a free and independent press, Constable?” she asked.

“What I’m into is you blokes letting us do our bloody jobs without you poking your noses into places it don’t belong.”

“Your name will never appear. You’ll be an unnamed source.”

“You’re bloody right my name won’t appear. Now move along!”

Katie walked slowly down the street a bit, staring up at the windows of the building as she did so. Shaw was in there getting the whole story while she was out here with zip.

If I could just… Back on top. Another Pulitzer.

She was so intent on her thoughts that she nearly jumped when something touched her arm. She whirled around and saw him, his soft felt cap in hand, his wide, nervous eyes squarely on her.

“Can I help you?” she asked suspiciously.

“You are a journalist, yes?” His voice was squeaky and not exactly brimming with confidence. She easily guessed that English was not his first language. He was short and painfully thin. His teeth were crooked and yellowed. His clothes barely rose to the level of threadbare.

“Who wants to know?” She peered over his shoulder as though expecting to see someone else there.

He looked back at The Phoenix Group building. “I have come here every day to see it. This place, I mean.” He gave an involuntary shudder.

“It is disturbing,” she said, still wary of the man.

He seemed to sense her discomfort. “My name is Aron Lesnik. I am from Krakow. That is in Poland,” he added.

“I know where Krakow is,” Katie said. “I’ve been there. What do you want with me?”

“I saw you talking to that police officer. I heard you say you are journalist. Is that true? Are you journalist?”

“Yes. So?”

Lesnik glanced once more at the building. When he turned back to her, his eyes were filled with tears. “I am so sorry for those people. They were good people and now they are dead.” He wiped his eyes with the back of his sleeve and looked at her pitifully.

“It was a real tragedy. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Katie wondered why she always seemed to attract the nutcases. The man’s next words made her forget that thought.

“I was in there. On that day.” He said this in a hoarse voice.

“What?” Katie couldn’t have heard the man right. “In where?”

Lesnik pointed to The Phoenix Group building. “In there,” he repeated, an agonizing pitch to his voice now.

“Where the murders happened?”

Lesnik nodded, his head bobbing up and down like a child making a confession.

“What were you doing in the building?”

“I was looking for work. A job. My English is not that good, but I am good with computers. I go there because I hear they need people who are good with computers. I have appointment. It is on that day. That… bad day.”

“Let me get this straight,” Katie said, trying but failing to hide her excitement. “You were in that building for an interview when the people were killed? While they were being killed?”

Lesnik nodded. “Yes.” His eyes filled with tears again.

“Then how come you’re not dead?” she said suspiciously.

“I hear the guns. I know about sounds of guns. I was young boy in Krakow when the Soviets would come with guns. So I hide.”

A bit of Katie’s suspicion drained away. She’d had to hide from men with guns when she’d been reporting overseas. “Where did you hide? I want precise details.”

“On the second floor there is machine in a little room they use to make copies of papers. It has doors in back. A little space to hold things. It was empty. I am not big. I crawl inside. I stay there until the shootings stop. Then I come out. I think they shoot me too when they find me. But they do not find me. I am lucky.”

Katie was nearly vibrating off the pavement. “Look, it’s probably not a great idea to talk about this here. Why don’t we go somewhere else?”

Lesnik immediately backed away. “No, I say enough. I come here every day. I come, because I can’t stay away. Those people, all dead. All dead except me. I should be dead too.”

“Don’t say that. It obviously wasn’t your time to go. Like you said, you were lucky. And besides it’ll be good to get it off your chest,” she urged.

“No. No! I only come up to you because I hear you are journalist. In Poland we have journalists who are heroes, heroes in Poland. They stand up to Soviets. My father, he is one of them. They kill him, but he is still hero,” he added proudly.

“I’m sure he is. But you can’t just not tell anyone. You have to go to the police.”

Lesnik took another step back. “No, no police. I do not like police.”

Katie looked at him warily. “Are you in some sort of trouble?”

Lesnik didn’t answer her. He simply glanced away. “No police. I must go now.”

She clutched his arm. “Wait a minute.” Katie thought quickly. “Look, if I promise not to reveal my source, can you at least tell me what you saw? I promise, I swear on a stack of Bibles I won’t ever tell who told me. After all, you came up to me. You must want me to help somehow.”

Lesnik looked unsure. “I don’t know why I come up to you.” He paused. “You… you can do that? Not tell?”

“Absolutely.” She looked over his anguished face, his small, childlike frame, and his shabby clothes. She could easily envision him hiding terrified inside a copier as gunfire erupted all around him. “How about I buy you something to eat and we can talk? Just talk. If you’re still uncomfortable, you can walk away.” She put out her hand. “Deal?”

He didn’t take her hand.

“I’m sure your father would want to see the truth come out. And to see murderers punished.”

He slowly slipped his fingers around hers. “Okay. I go with you.”

As they walked along Katie said the one question she’d been dying to ask.

“Did you see who did it?” She held her breath waiting for the answer.

He nodded. “And I hear them too. I hear them good. I know the language they speak very good.”

“Language? So they were foreigners?”

Lesnik stopped walking and stared at her. “They were Russians.”

“You’re sure? Absolutely certain?”

For the first time his face took on a confident expression. “I am Pole. From Krakow. I know Russian when I hear it.”