“Yes, Simon Nozyk. He tells me after we know each other a little. Said he had to have another name for the air force. I didn’t understand really. Simon told me a story about his brother. I don’t know the whole story, but he had a clever brother. This brother fell in with some family of rich Poles for whom he did some kind of work. They didn’t pay him much, but he was a Jew who had been in jail, so he was glad to get something with which to support his young family. That’s what Simon said anyway. Simon was the younger brother and he appeared to have idol…” She struggled momentarily for the right English word “Idolised, yes, that is it – he idolised David. Then some time in 1938, I think it was, David didn’t come home from work. Simon and his family never saw him again. They reported him missing to the authorities, but received little attention. He was a poor Jew, after all.”
Merlin thought for a second of Sonia and her background. There was and had been anti-Semitism in England, but nothing like that in Poland and other Eastern European countries. “How can this have led to Simon’s mission here in London?”
“David had never told Simon the name of the people he was working for, but Simon thought he might have found the house where they lived, as he had played truant one day and followed him into town. It was a big house in the main square of the Old City in Warsaw. After David’s disappearance, he investigated some more and found out who the family were.”
“Did he tell you who the family were?”
“No.”
Merlin grabbed another bread roll. “Am I to think that Simon connected David’s disappearance to these employers in some way?”
“His mission was to find the connection. He had some clues. David had given him a small, locked, black box. He told Simon he was doing some dangerous work. In case anything happened to him, he wanted Simon to have the box. He gave him the key, knowing how honest Simon was and how much he loved him. After David’s disappearance, Simon, of course, opened the box. In it he found some gold pieces and a necklace of gold. Very beautiful. He showed me.”
“And he was trying to connect these gold items to whatever happened to David?”
“He needed to know what happened to his brother, of course. He had those few clues and he felt he could find the answer here in London.”
*
It was gone one by the time Count Tarkowski reached his office. “My meeting with Sikorski went on forever, Miss Wajda. Anything for me?”
“There were two policemen here to see you, sir, Chief Inspector Merlin and Sergeant Bridges.”
“I see.”
“They couldn’t wait any longer, sir, and went for some lunch. Didn’t say if they’d be back.”
“Anything else?”
Miss Wajda toyed with the idea of mentioning Kilinski and his girlfriend, but decided that it would be best to keep well out of all that business. The Count was a good boss, but who knew what he was really up to. “Mr de Souza from the bank tried to get hold of you.”
“Get him on the telephone, would you?”
“The last time he called he said he was going out and would be out for the rest of the day. Something about having a tooth out. To be honest, sir, he sounded as if he was already under the laughing gas.”
“How do you mean?”
“He sounded a little drunk.”
“That’s not like him.”
“Said he’d call back tomorrow morning.”
The Count went into his office, sat at his desk and thought. He wasn’t going to hang around for those policemen to return. Life seemed to be getting even more complicated. What should he do?
Pain shot up his spine as he stood up a little too abruptly. “I am going to get something to eat myself, Miss Wajda. I may or may not return today. Have you finished writing up that report I gave you, the one about the Gestapo’s latest activities in Warsaw?”
Miss Wajda’s face whitened. “I have just begun, sir. The material is, um…”
“Yes, I am sorry. It does not make very pleasant reading, does it? If you like, I can ask someone, perhaps Andrei upstairs, to do it?”
“No, no, sir. It is my job and I’ll get it done by tonight. Is it true though? What they are doing?”
Tarkowski nodded sadly. “And worse, my dear. Much worse.”
*
When they got back to the Yard, Merlin tried to get hold of Sir Bernard Spilsbury. He wanted to see whether the detailed autopsy report on Kilinski was ready yet. There was no reply on the numbers Merlin had. As he replaced the receiver, the A.C. came in. “I couldn’t help hearing the name Spilsbury as I stood at the door, Frank. Why are you trying to get him?”
“He did the post-mortem on our Polish flyer, sir. There’s no answer.”
“I doubt you’ll get one for a day or two. His son was killed in the bombing on Sunday night.”