“Chief Inspector Merlin, I take it. Pleased to meet you.” Squadron Leader Kellett put down his pipe and rose in greeting. Standing next to his desk was Jan Sieczko, who nodded at Merlin and Robinson and extended a hand.
“Rather amazingly, Inspector, you find us twiddling our thumbs. No action yet today, so we are at your disposal, for the moment at least. Can I offer you anything?”
“No, thank you, sir. I am conscious that you may be called away at any minute so I think it’s best to get on with it.”
Kellett nodded and pointed to the canvas chairs in front of his desk.
“So, Squadron Leader, you have a missing Polish flyer. Jan here doesn’t believe that this chap Kilinski is the deserting kind and tells me that you agree that we should look into it.”
“Yes, that’s right. He’s a good pilot. A slightly difficult man, but then after all these fellows have been through,” he gestured towards Sieczko, “what’s a little awkwardness. Can’t say I’ve really spent much time with the chap, but I’d put money on his being a good fellow. I know he fought bravely over Poland and would be very surprised if he is a deserter.”
He looked down at a folder he had in front of him. “This is a copy of our file on him. There’s a picture here too.”
Kellett pushed the folder across the desk. Merlin picked up the photograph and found himself looking at Ziggy Kilinski. The face looked older than that of a twenty-year-old man. Dark, hollow eyes, slightly flared nostrils and a strangely twisted mouth on which the ghost of a smile played. A cowlick of black hair escaped from under the flying gear on his head.
“Strange-looking chap, isn’t he?” The telephone on Kellett’s desk suddenly rang loudly. “Yes. Yes. Very well. I’ll be right over.” He put the phone down. “I’m terribly sorry, but I have to go to a meeting with some other senior officers. It’s only just been called. Will it be alright if I leave you in Sieczko’s hands?”
“Yes, of course. I’d like to see Kilinski’s billet, if I may.”
Sieczko jumped to his feet. “Come. I’ll show you to Ziggy’s hut. It’s only a short walk.” Outside there was more activity than there had been when they’d arrived. A group of men in oily overalls were standing behind the hut being given some instructions by two officers speaking alternately in English and Polish. Another group, this one made up of pilots, was setting up deckchairs outside the next-door hut. Further away, a number of fighter aircraft, Hurricanes and Spitfires, were being refuelled.
“It’s just along here.” They arrived at a hut some two hundred yards from Kellett’s. Two pilots were playing cards on a small table outside the door. One of them looked up and exchanged a few words in Polish with Sieczko, after which he rose and introduced himself to Merlin. “Miro Kubicki, sir. At your command, Inspector.” He gave a small bow and shook hands. “And at yours, mademoiselle.” He reached for Robinson’s hand and kissed it.
The constable reddened. “Oh, pleased to meet you, I’m sure.”
Kubicki pointed at his companion. “That ugly specimen over there with the beautiful black eye, which he won’t tell us how he got, is Jerzy Kowalski.”
Kowalski glared at Kubicki, then put out his cigarette, rose and bowed. “So you are here to help us find our comrade Kilinski?”
“Yes, Mr Kowalski, we were hoping to have a look inside if that’s alright with you.”