Informer

 

I'm a police informer. I can already see your faces contorted with contempt. But you've judged me too quickly: I'm not a frightened spy, a cheap informant, or a servile salesman. I report official news—that's my job.

It happens, for example, that this or that individual, more or less naturally, passes away due to one circumstance or another. That's when I step in. I go to their families and partners and, with official sadness, announce the tragic news.

I have two degrees, one in psychology, several dozen specialized courses under my belt, and every quarter I report to mandatory training organized by the Police Headquarters. But even then, sometimes I can't cope. Because people are unpredictable, and their behavior often falls outside any canons or adheres to any sensible rules.

That day, I was supposed to go to 23 Krzywa Street to visit a certain Mrs. Babacinska. Her husband had fallen from the tenth floor of a high-rise building, dragging a television and a vacuum cleaner with him. The accident was the result of spontaneous bravado and occurred during a cheerful and heavily intoxicated social gathering. Police technicians diligently scraped the man from the sidewalk and, having pieced him back together as best they could, established his identity.

The house on Krzywa Street turned out to be a large villa set in an impressive garden. It was a beautiful day – the sun was shining, birds were chirping, and bees were steadily hoarding nectar from flower to flower.

I knocked on the door.

A woman in her forties stood on the threshold, elegant and well-groomed, with clear traces of her former beauty on her face. She was dressed in a colorful blouse, a tight black skirt, and black stockings. In short, she looked very inviting.

I frowned.

"Do I have the pleasure of meeting Mrs. Babacinska?"

The woman appraised me carefully from head to toe.

"Who's asking?

" "My name is Balaban," I flashed my ID, "Waclaw Balaban. I'm from the police and I have some... information about your husband. Could we come in and talk for a few moments?"

She let me in without a word and led the way, showing me the way to the living room. Apparently, the Babacinskis were very wealthy—the walls were dripping with gilt, and works of art in expensive frames dangled from the ceilings.

I wondered how to handle this—whether to beat around the bush for a long time, or simply get it straight and then mitigate any potential consequences. I chose the latter.

She sat down in the leather armchair, crossing her legs.

"I'm listening...

" "I regret to inform you," I said formally, without any preamble, "that your husband has died."

The woman stared at me blankly for a few dozen seconds, as if unable to grasp the meaning of the words, then... she smiled broadly.

"Really?!

"Really," I grunted, somewhat disconcerted.

"That's wonderful news!" The woman jumped up from her chair and clapped her hands. "How did that happen?"

"Well... overconfidence in one's own strength and the capabilities of household appliances. And the universal law of gravity. In short: he fell out of the window.

" "Drunk?

" "Drunk," I grimaced, reluctant to hear the term.

"That's wonderful news!" The woman spun happily around her axis. "What would you like to drink?

" "What...?" I blurted out, embarrassed. "Thank you, but I'm on duty.

" "And I have to fail this!" Babacinska ran towards the bar and pulled out a freshly opened bottle of whiskey. She was incredibly animated.

"Only now do I feel alive!" she chirped, filling her glass. "I'm rich, free, young, and... beautiful! What more could I want?"

She looked at me questioningly.

"Yes, yes!" I assured her hastily. "Of course, you're incredibly beautiful and... young!"

I should have left at that point. I had fulfilled my sad mission and had nothing more to do here. And yet... my unfortunate and principled nature forced me to stay here a few more minutes. Minutes with fateful consequences, as it turned out.

"With all due respect," I watched Babacinska flip through the CDs, searching for some cheerful, upbeat music, "shouldn't you show a little sadness? After all, he's your husband, after all." And whatever life may have been, it's still a human existence. And life, as we know, is the highest value...

"I have it!" Babacinska found the right record, turned joyfully, looked in my direction, and... froze.

Something was wrong.

I cautiously glanced over my shoulder.

A massive man with a broken nose and the looks of a Neanderthal appeared in the living room doorway.

"Who is that?!" he growled, pointing at me.

Babacinska fluttered her long eyelashes.

"So you're alive... Kaziu...?

" "Of course I'm alive, you stupid woman!" Kaziu growled. "What kind of nonsense is this, I ask you?"

I shifted uneasily.

"Please excuse me. I'm from the police and I have some sad news..."

Babacinska clapped her hands.

"You're alive, you're alive, my dear!" Because he told me you wouldn't come back!

"You told her that...?! The guy approached slowly.

"Please excuse me, but we have information that a certain Mr. Babacinski...

" "He was scaring me, Misia!" Babacinska pointed an accusing claw at me. "He was scaring me that you wouldn't come back because you were dead!"

"You were scaring me?!" Kaziu slowly rolled up his sleeves.

"I swear to God, this is some terrible misunderstanding," I fumbled nervously and aimlessly through the papers. "It wasn't my intention to scare anyone...

" "Do you know I can punch you in the face for something like that?!" Kaziu asked.

"I know, sir.

" "And you know I can go beyond the bounds of courtesy?

" "I do, sir.

" "And you know I'll file a complaint against you?

" "You have every right, sir.

" "How could you have made such a mistake?" Kaziu pressed me against the wall, glaring.

"I don't know," I managed, contrite. "It says here that Mr. Babacinski, husband of a certain Leokadia...

" "Leokadia!" Babacinska pursed her lips contemptuously. "That's my sister-in-law! I'm Adelaide!"

Everything was clear then. I showed off like no one else, you idiot!

" "Get lost, you idiot!" Babacinski gave me a little push.

I stepped out into the sun-drenched garden and, taking a deep breath, exhaled loudly. I felt awful.

As I walked toward the gate, I heard Babacińska's wailing through the open windows.

"You scared me so much, Misia! My whole world collapsed in a second! But you're alive, my love! Oh, how happy I am! How happy!"