Good As Gone (11 page)

I finished off the first strawberry and took another.

“Where’s Dabrowski?” I said.

“Pan Dabrowski is not in today. Was he expecting you?”

“Will he be back later in the day?”

She smiled uncomfortably. “I am sorry. But I do not know what this is about. Do you have personal business with Pan Dabrowski?”

“I don’t know yet if it’s personal.” I stuffed another strawberry into my mouth. “I just know that I need to see him as soon as possible.”

“Are you British?”

“I’m American.”

“You do not sound American.”

“I get that a lot,” I said. “Especially in America.”

She nodded amicably. “If you are in need of a criminal lawyer, Pan Fisk, I am happy to help you, if only until Pan Dabrowski returns. But if you need to speak with him personally, I am afraid you will have to wait. He is not expected back until next week.”

“I can’t wait that long. Where is he?”

“I am afraid I am not at liberty—”

“Is he in the country?” I said.

“What is this in regards to?”

“One of his clients.”

“You are a witness?”

“You could say that. But I’m not here to supply information, I’m here to obtain it.”

“Surely, Pan Fisk, you realize that a lawyer cannot divulge information about his client.”

“He can if his client is involved in the commission of a major crime.”

She froze for a moment. “May I ask which client you are referring to?”

“A man named Talik. Possibly his nephew Alim Sari.”

“I have never heard of either of these men.”

“They’re Turks living in Germany. One of them called here recently.”

She said, “If they are Mikolaj’s clients, I would not know. He is the head of the firm. He does not share information about his clients with us unless he requires our assistance.”

“But the names would be in your office database, correct?”

“It does not matter,” she said. “I would not be able to access them if they were. And even if I could, I would not dare.”

“Look, Miss Staszak—”

“You may call me Ana.”

“All right, Ana, let me level with you. Ordinarily, at this point, I’d thank you for your time and stand up and leave. I would wait until your office closed. Then I’d break in, poke through your files, take what I need. But you seem like the sort I can reason with, and frankly, I can’t afford the extra eight to ten hours. I’m running out of time as it is.”

“Pan Fisk—”

“Simon. Call me Simon.”

“Okay, Simon. I have no idea what you are speaking about, but you are frightening me. I would like you to leave now, or else I will have to call security.”

Ana began to stand. I gently took hold of her wrist and lowered her back into the chair.

“Please, Ana, hear me out. If at the end of my explanation you want no part of this, I promise you, I will leave.”

She looked at me for a long moment, then settled in her seat, crossed her long, lithe legs. “You have five minutes, Simon.”

“That’s three more than I need,” I said, leaning toward her. “No doubt you have heard the name Lindsay Sorkin over the past few days.”

“Relentlessly,” she said. “The American girl who went missing in Paris.”

“Abducted,” I corrected her. “She didn’t go missing. She was taken from her parents’ hotel room in the middle of the night while they slept.”

“I see. But what does this have to do with Mikolaj? Or with you, for that matter?”

“I’m getting there, Ana.” I bit into another strawberry. “The French police asked for my assistance in finding the girl.”

“And why would they do that?”

“Because that’s what I do. I recover abducted children.”

“You are with what organization? The FBI? CIA? Interpol?”

“None of the above,” I said. “I’m a former U.S. Marshal, but now I work privately. I hunt down estranged parents who have abducted their children and fled overseas to countries that don’t recognize U.S. custody decisions.”

“But that is not what happened to this little girl.”

“No, this little girl was abducted by strangers. Two German men named Dietrich Braun and Karl Finster. I followed them to Berlin. They were hired to do the job by the man I mentioned before—Talik. It’s likely his nephew Alim Sari is involved. A call was recently placed to this office from their flat in Kreuzberg. It’s all I have to go on. It is why I
must
speak to Dabrowski immediately.”

Ana shook her head, her curly locks swaying from side to side. “But there must be some mistake. A misdialed number perhaps. Mikolaj cannot possibly be involved.”

“Either way,” I said, “I need to find out. And to do that, I need to know where he is.”

She gave it considerable thought, then rose from her chair and said, “There is something I have to check out first.”

I watched through the windowed conference room as Ana strolled down the hall to the office marked
MIKOLAJ DABROWSKI.
She looked back at me to let me know she wasn’t concealing what she was about to do. To prove, I think, to me and to herself that she wasn’t ashamed of it. She pulled a key ring from her pocket and opened the door.

The shades were drawn in Dabrowski’s office, but I imagined her sorting through his files, looking for this fellow Talik, or Alim Sari. She was in there quite a long while. When she finally stepped out, she had a serious look on her face.

“All right,” she said as she reentered the conference room. “I will tell you where he is, under one condition.”

“What’s that?”

“I am coming with you to speak to him.”

“Forget it,” I said. “I work alone.”

“Then you will have to wait until he returns, as I said before.”

“You found something in his office,” I said. “What did you find?”

“His appointment book. Tomorrow morning is marked with the initials T.Y. It is not enough to convince me, but as long as I am with you we have an excuse for being together.”

“An excuse?”

“I can tell him you are my lover.”

Last time I tried to win an argument with a lawyer it went bad for me. Last time I tried to win an argument with a woman it turned out downright ugly. From the moment I first laid eyes on her, it struck me that Anastazja Staszak was adept at being both. So what choice did I have?

“All right, then,” I said. “You’re coming with me.”

Maybe a mistake. Probably a mistake. Thing about mistakes is, you don’t usually realize they’re mistakes until well after you made them. I knew this was probably a mistake going in.

“Now,” I said, “tell me where we’re going.”

“Krakow. Mikolaj keeps a home there near his parents.”

I pushed out my chair and stood. “Are you okay riding on a motorcycle?”

“Are you kidding?” she said. “I drive one to work every day.”

Chapter 19

The three-hour drive from Warsaw to Krakow was pretty much a straight shot. Ana and I stopped once in a small café in Kielce and sat across from each other, sipping espressos.

“So,” I said softly, “the T.Y. on Dabrowski’s appointment book was enough to convince you to bring me to him.”

The left side of her lip turned up in a smile, revealing a dimple on her left cheek. “There was one other thing. Maybe it is something, maybe it is nothing.”

“What is it?” I said.

“When I first went into Mikolaj’s office I dialed his mobile number, hoping to get in touch with him to sort this out.”

“And?”

“And I heard a ringing in his desk drawer. I opened the drawer and found his mobile sitting atop his files.”

I raised my eyebrows. “So?”

“So, Simon, we always tell our clients, if you are up to something nefarious, do not bring your mobile.”

I nodded. “GPS, cellular towers, and all that. Led me to more than a few targets over the years.”

“Exactly. These wireless records are used all the time by police and prosecutors to place defendants at or near the scene of the crime at precisely the right time.”

“So you think Dabrowski left his phone behind on purpose.”

Ana shook her head. “That I cannot say. But I think it is worth inquiring.”

“What exactly is your relationship with this Dabrowski?”

“It is complicated,” she said, her eyes darting away from mine. “I have worked for him since I became a lawyer. Ten years now.”

That was all she’d say on the matter, though I suspected there was significantly more history. I decided not to push the issue, though. At least not yet.

“I’ve been thinking,” I said. “The best plan is to locate Dabrowski tonight and watch him tomorrow morning. There is nothing to be gained by making him aware of our presence.”

Ana shook her head adamantly. “No, I refuse to spy on him. Not without further evidence. We will go to him today. I have brought his mobile phone. I will deliver it to him. It makes sense. He is never without it. I will say I heard it ringing as I was passing by his office and was sure he needed it. The office has no other way of getting in touch with him in Krakow.”

“And then?”

“Then I will ask him what his plans are tomorrow. If he lies to me, if he fails to mention a meeting or something involving a T.Y., then we will watch him.”

*

Krakow, of course, was victim to a brutal past. The city had served as capital of Germany’s General Government following the Nazi invasion of Poland at the start of World War II. Krakow’s Jewish population was herded into a walled zone known as the Krakow Ghetto. From there Jews were transported to a network of nearby concentration camps known as Auschwitz, where they were systematically executed. Hitler’s “Final Solution of the Jewish Question.” Those spared the gas chamber were killed by firing squad, or died of starvation, forced labor, disease, or medical experiments.

Mikolaj Dabrowski’s flat was located on Grodzka in the Old Quarter near Market Square. We parked the bike and walked, hand in hand, at Ana’s insistence.

“Mikolaj would not believe that I drove all this way alone just to give him his mobile phone. Better we say that you are my boyfriend. We met at Paparazzi; it is a posh cocktail bar in Warsaw. I told you the situation and you suggested we take a road trip, because you have never seen Krakow.” She looked me up and down as we walked. “You are a criminal lawyer, too. Only white-collar crimes. You work on Madison Avenue in New York City.”

I stopped her. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were trying to make this Dabrowski fellow jealous.”

Ana looked me in the eyes. “You want to take me to Los Angeles because I told you I have always been dying to see Hollywood.”

I stared into those emerald eyes and grinned, genuinely amused for the first time in days.

Chapter 20

Dabrowski’s flat was larger than I had expected. It was elegantly furnished, full of light and warmth. Dabrowski appeared surprised to see Ana, but not overly so. He did, however, seem quite stunned to see me.

Once Ana introduced me, Dabrowski quickly asked, “So, what brings you two to Krakow?”

Ana reached into her handbag and plucked out Dabrowski’s phone. I watched his reaction. Or nonreaction, that is. He certainly didn’t look grateful.

“You drove all the way here to give me this?” Dabrowski tried a smile but it didn’t work well.

“Well, not only for that,” Ana said. “It was Simon’s idea, actually. He has never seen Krakow and he suggested a trip.”

“I want to take her to Los Angeles, too,” I said. “She’s been dying to see Hollywood.”

Dabrowski nodded. “So she has told me. Many times.”

“Simon and I are staying in Krakow tonight,” Ana said. “I thought maybe the three of us could have lunch tomorrow.”

“Oh, I wish I could,” Dabrowski said. He still had not invited us to sit down. “But it would be impossible tomorrow. I am spending the day at Jagiellonian University. Professor Levitsky requested I speak to his class about the practice of criminal law.”

“That is too bad,” Ana said with the slightest hesitation. “Well, maybe once you return to Warsaw, we can all have dinner. Simon will not be leaving until next week.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Dabrowski said, finally smiling. He was handsome when he smiled, his round face contrasting nicely with sharp features and dark eyes that seemed they could pierce through flesh. “Something I will look forward to.”

Dabrowski shook my hand, firm and steady, and we said our goodbyes.

Once we were outside, Ana said, “So, first thing tomorrow, we stake out his flat, and when he leaves, we follow him.”

“I take it he didn’t convince you he was speaking at the university tomorrow,” I said.

“Not particularly, no.”

She kept walking, fast. As though she wanted to get as far away from Dabrowski’s apartment as possible.

“Is it that there’s no possible link between Professor Levitsky and the T.Y. you found in Dabrowski’s planner?”

“No,” she said, lowering her brows. “It is that Professor Levitsky retired from the university last semester.”

I shrugged. “Isn’t it possible that Levitsky is covering for another professor, or visiting an old class, or even serving as an adjunct?”

“None of that is possible.” Her voice was suddenly full of sharp edges.

“Why not?”

“Because two months after Professor Levitsky retired, he suffered a stroke and dropped dead.”

I stopped, pulled her back to me. “Are you certain, Ana?”

She turned and stared up at me, her bright green eyes watering. “Quite certain,” she said. “I spoke at Levitsky’s funeral.”

Chapter 21

We checked into a thirteenth-century guesthouse on Tomasza, a few blocks from the main square. It wasn’t my first choice for accommodations, but Ana suggested I live less like a tourist and more like a world traveler. We took two rooms on the third floor, one right next to the other. There were only six rooms in the entire guesthouse, and the other four were vacant. After I showered and changed suits, I met Ana downstairs and she asked if I was hungry. I told her I was starved. I had set my sights on Aqua e Vino, a trendy Italian restaurant on Wiślna, but Ana rolled her eyes at the mere mention of it.

“You can have Italian food anywhere in the world, Simon. It would be silly to eat it here in Poland.”