I returned. Actually, I simply changed my location. I had achieved another success, but it didn't make much of an impression on me. Several weeks of painstaking, non-stop work had finally yielded results. I found the culprit, the motive, the murder weapon. All the facts fell into place like a difficult puzzle.
A few weeks ago, I was sitting at the police station, filing reports, when I was called to the scene of an exceptionally brutal crime. The victim's blood was everywhere, but there were no fingerprints or traces that could lead to the perpetrator. This promised to be another difficult case, one that would require a lot of time, as usual. The chief assigned the investigation to me and my partner, who was also my best friend.
After some time, we found a suspect; I was certain he had committed the crime. However, our chief determined there was insufficient evidence. The suspicions and circumstantial evidence we had presented so far were too weak to bring charges.
Days passed, and neither I nor my partner could find a single new lead. The case was soon to be dismissed, and I—dedicated to my work and overly ambitious—was slowly sinking into depression. This could be my first unsolved case. It couldn't be. The killer was known, and I'd found no evidence! I devoted every free moment to the investigation; I had practically no time for anything else.
I neglected my fiancée. We were supposed to be married in August. That's when Kasia was supposed to finish her internship at the hospital. My fiancée spent long evenings watching TV. Sometimes she'd call a friend, sometimes go out to meet her. I'd arrive late at night, exhausted, but instead of lying down, I'd turn on the computer and, with tired eyes, search through more data. After two or three hours, I'd collapse exhausted on the couch to get some shut-eye. Early in the morning, I'd go to the police station again. Sometimes I'd be told I was probably spending the night at the department, because I was the earliest one to arrive. My partner, Piotrek, noticed that I was dressed the same way for the fifth day in a row.
Finally, I had a brilliant idea. After talking to the witness, I was 100% sure who committed the crime and how to prove their guilt. A few days later, I finally obtained evidence and managed to arrest the suspect. It was an incredible event. I couldn't think of anything else, but eventually, it all ended.
I opened the door with a key. I felt like a guest in the house. I went inside and found a note from my fiancée on the table. Kasia had decided to go away for the next few days to visit her friend who lived in Marki. I couldn't hide my displeasure, but also my utter surprise. I'd expected some kind of dinner together. And now, when the investigation was over, she had left. I decided to call her. She should be here. "
Hello, Kasia. The investigation is over. We've arrested that criminal," I said, sounding like an emotional five-year-old who'd just managed to set up a car track for his matchboxes. "
I'm glad, but I'm at Ewa's now. I'll be back in a few days," Kasia replied stoically. "I wrote you a note."
"Yes, I know. But please... come back. I've taken a vacation. For the next few days, I'll have time exclusively for you," I tried to convince my fiancée, but my arguments were ineffective. Maybe I should try harder. "
I'm sorry, I already promised Ewa I'd help her in the garden, and besides, my house would be closer to the hospital than hers." My fiancée was adamant in her decision. "
Too bad. I'd have to spend the next few days alone."
I turned on the computer. Perhaps Piotrek would be available on Gadu-Gadu. I'd love to meet him for a beer, talk about old times, or go to a game of tennis. I hadn't had time for simple relaxation for a long time, which I needed like everyone else.
Maybe I could also visit my father. Since he retired, his life had slowed down considerably. He was taking on everything that might take up some time. I'd neglected him too. I searched my memory for the day I'd last visited him, but I couldn't quite remember it.
Piotrek was available. I wrote him a message. We'd been friends for several years now. We met often, knew each other well, and worked together.
After a while, we were chatting about having a beer together.
Unexpectedly, I received a message from a stranger.
"Hello.
" "Who are you?" I asked with a distrust ingrained in my work.
"My name is Paweł.
" "Me too, how did you get my number?" I probed further. "
I found it in the attic while I was cleaning. I have no idea how it could have ended up in my apartment.
" "I don't recall giving a stranger my Gadu-Gadu number. How do we know each other? Do you work?" I wondered how I could possibly know the person I was talking to. "
Yes, I'm a critic. I write reviews of animated films and shorts."
"Cartoons? I watch them too, but for fun," I admitted.
"Seriously? I started working for a newspaper when I quit my job in the investigative department."
"Did you work in the investigation department?" I thought, maybe I did know him after all.
"Yes, for six years. But that's like another life. An old story.
" "I've been working there for five years. I mean, five years will be over in a few weeks. Today we arrested a dangerous criminal. He killed his grandmother for a few pennies. Finally, after a few weeks, I found evidence that turned out to be irrefutable," I boasted to the guy.
"I also handled a similar case once. After talking to the witness, we put him behind bars. However, it didn't end so easily. His brother started taking revenge... But that's history."
"And where did you work? At the Central Department?" I asked with professional curiosity.
"Yes.
" "I work there too. Maybe we've met once." I thought, maybe I just didn't recognize him. "
I doubt it, he hasn't worked there for long; it will be almost nine years.
" "You're a good joker. The Central Department was only established eight years ago. How can you have worked there for nine?" I realized he was a strange character.
"I don't remember exactly, but definitely more than eight.
" "That's impossible. Who was your superior?" I tried to unravel the mystery. "
Commander Kwiatkowski. Maybe you know him? He has a disabled left arm. He was shot by one of the bandits."
"That's a really bad joke. Well, Piotrek Kwiatkowski is my best friend, we've known each other for several years. We work together in the central department. Piotrek has never held the commandant's position. I'm sure of it. Besides, he has both hands," I explained, wanting to prove it was some kind of mistake.
"I used to be friends with him too. Until my fiancée started cheating on me with him."
"Piotrek? He has a wife. They've been married for several years. He never cheated on her. I don't know a more honest guy than him, except maybe my father," I said, convinced it was some kind of big mistake.
"I used to think that about Piotrek too, until he slept with my fiancée." Our paths crossed many more times after that, but I never forgave him.
"Listen, maybe it's the similarity of surnames. Kwiatkowski is a common surname, after all," I had a new idea. "
Maybe you're right. Do you live in Warsaw?
" "Yes, in Mokotów. On Czerniakowska Street," I told the person on the other end.
"Really? I used to live there too. And what does this friend of yours look like?"
"He's tall, slim, handsome, has a scar on..." I was describing Piotrek.
"...forehead.
" "How did you know?" I said, surprised. "
A good friend of mine also has a scar there. It's impossible for two Piotrek Kwiatkowskis with scars on their foreheads to work in the same department within a few years."
"That's really strange. I'll ask Piotrek. We're going for a beer together tomorrow. I was talking to him on Gadu-Gadu earlier, but he's no longer available," I wrote, wanting to end this strange conversation. "
I understand, but it's really strange. I keep wondering how your Gadu-Gadu number ended up in my attic?"
"But what do you mean, in the attic? It's written on the wall?" I didn't quite understand.
"No, I found it on some document from a few years ago in one of the boxes.
" "Nothing written on it?" I wanted to know everything.
"No, I haven't opened that box in a few years.
" "That's impossible," I said.
"Why? That's true. The last time I went to the attic was a long time ago.
" "That's impossible, I only set up Gadu-Gadu four months ago." Something didn't add up.
"That's strange, especially since I don't remember writing anything on that document.
" "What kind of document was it?" I asked. "
A receipt for payment for a television. From a few years ago."
"So how did it end up in your attic?" I didn't quite understand. "
I must have brought it there sometime. I still have the TV. I watch reruns of 'Loveland' every day. It's my favorite show from back in the day." "
You have a sense of humor. I really like that show too, but they've only been showing it for a few months," I said. I hadn't been watching much of the soap opera lately.
"A few months? Dude, you have some delayed information. This show used to win major awards.
" "Do you have any leaks? A few days ago it was nominated in four categories," I asked, maybe it would tell me something. "
And it won all those awards. I remember it like it was yesterday. I remembered the good old days. I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'm very tired."
"Okay, thanks for talking to me," I said goodbye.
Soon after, I turned off the computer. After a bath, I went to bed. I had a really tough day. First, the criminal caught, then Kasia leaving, then the conversation with the strange guy.
I couldn't sleep for a long time. I kept wondering about the meaning of today's conversation. It must have been some stupid joke. Internet users sometimes had strange ideas.
I woke up late. I could finally get some sleep. After the recent sleepless nights, I needed to catch up. I checked my watch. Don't worry, I still have two hours until I meet Piotrek. First, we'll go to the tennis court, then we'll have a beer at our favorite pub. While I'm at it, I'll tell him about the strange guy who claims to have once served as the commander of our investigative department.
I started making breakfast. I loved toast, especially in the morning, accompanied by a cup of hot milk with honey. Lately, I hadn't had much time for such a treat. My morning, or rather, early afternoon, idyll was interrupted by the doorbell. I pulled away and went to open it.
There was Marta, Piotrek's wife, standing there.
"Hi, come in," I said, letting the woman in. "Is something wrong?"
"No... I mean, yes." Concern was etched on her face. "
I'm just making breakfast, maybe you'd like to join me?" I asked, trying to maintain good manners.
A moment later, we were sitting in the living room, sipping coffee, and I was eating toast.
"Will you tell me what happened?" I didn't like people beating around the bush, especially when it was my good friend. "
It's about Piotrek," she said slowly. "I'm afraid he's cheating on me."
"Piotrek?" It's impossible, I suddenly remembered a fragment of yesterday's conversation ("I used to be friends with him too. Until my fiancée started cheating on me with him").
"I thought so too, but for the past few months I haven't been able to get along with him at all. But that's not all. Yesterday, when I called him, a woman answered the phone. The voice seemed strangely familiar, but it was unclear. Last week, however, a friend of mine told me she'd seen him with a woman.
"Surprisingly, I work with him every day, I haven't noticed any change in his behavior."
"I don't know if it's true. It's just my suspicion. I'm coming to you because you're his friend. Couldn't you look into this matter more closely?"
"Okay, I'll talk to him. We're scheduled for tennis today.
" "No, talking is a bad idea.
" "Why? Maybe he'll tell me something...
" "He'll figure it out right away. Just ask him about our relationship, observe how he behaves. Ask him, discreetly, of course, what he does after work. I'm counting on you, Paweł."
"Okay, Marta." I'll do it," I promised. "
Thanks. I love him, I want him back, but I'm afraid my hunches might turn out to be true."
A few hours later, Piotrek and I were sitting in a pub. I'd easily beaten him earlier, giving him a masterful tennis lesson. Even though I hadn't played much lately, I hadn't lost my form. We were sipping our second beer.
"You, yesterday a funny guy wrote to me on Gadu Gadu. He claimed he knew you and that you were the police chief in our department.
" "A realist. He believes in me," he said in his subdued voice, revealing an involuntary smile. I don't know if it was meant as a joke.
"Probably some clairvoyant...
" "Did he say anything about a fortune?
" "No."
"Too bad, I thought I'd be swimming in cash. And now water has to play that role all the time."
"So how's your wife, you joker?"
"Okay, I'm not complaining. Your future wife must have left, though.
" "Yeah, but how do you know? I didn't tell you.
" "Uh... Well, I guess she left again, since you're here with me at the pub."
"You're right, actually. That guy also said you were friends until his fiancée started cheating on him with you. We agreed it must be some kind of mistake.
" "Good, I don't even know who he is. What's his name?"
"I don't know. He says he has the same name as me.
" "Maybe someone's setting you up, some lame 'Gotcha' or something..."
I went back home. I was going to visit my father tomorrow. I spoke to him on the phone today. He was fine, just a little sore in his back. I was supposed to visit him today, but now that I was on vacation, I could easily postpone the visit until the next day.
I couldn't hide my tiredness, but I turned on the computer anyway. I wanted to do some internet searching, find some good rock. This music was putting me in the mood and acting as my escape.
I also turned on Gadu-Gadu. Maybe the crazy guy would contact me again. My hunch was confirmed; a moment later, I received a message from him.
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