The Exiled (27 page)

IT WAS LATE IN THE EVENING
by the time Réka arrived at Anna’s house to look through the CCTV footage Péter had given them.

Anna had talked to her mother for hours. About Ákos, Áron and their father. Her mother had been astonishingly frank and talked with almost heartbreaking intensity about the pain of her losses; a pain that, as the years had passed, had turned into a dull, wistful longing. She talked about how worried she’d been about Anna and how happy she was that, despite all their misfortunes, Anna had made a success of her life, studied and got a job, settled in her new country. Anna told her about life in Finland, about the loneliness and the sense of rootlessness. She talked about her ambitions, about how much she enjoyed her job and wanted to do the best she could. Her mother seemed to understand. Neither of them mentioned the issue of starting a family. That aside, Anna felt as though she’d never been this close to her mother before. Eventually her mother said what Anna had been hoping to hear: that she too wanted to know the truth about what really happened all those years ago.

There were three CCTV cameras in Kanizsa. One at the town hall and two at the corner of the school, facing the intersection at Karadjordje utca, so that approaching cars appeared in one camera and left the crossing in the other. In all probability the handbag thief, followed shortly by Anna and Ernő, should be visible in the latter two cameras. Anna nervously pushed the memory stick into the computer and clicked the file open. The footage was every bit as blurred as that of any security camera she’d seen before. These cameras were designed to follow traffic, not people. The intersection by the school was busy and there were plenty of traffic collisions. Anna wound the video forward to Friday evening. Réka sipped a Coca-Cola.

‘Isn’t that unhealthy for the baby?’ asked Anna.

‘Yes. And for me. But I can’t take the heat a moment longer without some. What am I going to do in August when my stomach
is bigger and the temperature is even higher? At least now I can still sleep at night. By then the nights will be so humid I’ll feel like pulling my own skin off.’

Anna wasn’t listening. She was concentrating on watching the tapes. The lights of approaching cars moved in jolts, as if the camera had taken photographs instead of rolling footage. The cars disappeared from one camera and their rear lights appeared in the next, then disappeared again just as quickly. New cars appeared, and Anna caught a glimpse of a few pedestrians walking along the edge of the screen. There was very little traffic that night.

Then things started to happen. Anna gave a start as Réka shrieked at the computer.

‘Look! Someone’s running over there.’

‘It’s Lakatos Sándor.’

At the corner of the screen a man had appeared – wearing a dark hoodie and with a bag in his hand. It was Anna’s handbag. In sporadic, edgy movements he ran across the street without looking behind him and disappeared beyond the reach of the camera. A second, two perhaps, and the street was empty again. A minute went by, a minute that felt like an eternity, and then Anna’s image appeared on the screen. Ernő was there too, but the camera angle cut him out of the screen. Anna was waving her hands and feverishly explaining something, she took off her shoes, ran across the street and vanished.

Anna stopped the video and wound it back to the point where Lakatos appeared. They watched the incident three times. Anna was becoming increasingly frustrated.

‘This is no use,’ she sighed.

‘Quiet,’ Réka scolded, stopped the video, wound it back and started it again. ‘Look. Someone arrives at the crossing after you.’

A shadow had appeared on the pavement.

‘And now another car.’

A brown car pulled up at the intersection, stopped to let a pedestrian cross the road, jolted into motion again and disappeared from sight just as its rear lights came into view in the other camera.

‘Who was that crossing the street?’ asked Réka.

‘It could have been anyone.’

‘Why did we only see the shadow?’

‘I don’t know.’

‘It’s as though he knew that’s where the cameras were positioned.’

‘I imagine quite a few people know about them.’

‘Yes, but they don’t deliberately avoid them.’

They watched the sequence of events over and over, and Anna too became convinced that the person casting the shadow was avoiding the cameras, and doing it so skilfully that he crossed the road without showing even the briefest glimpse of himself.

‘The car’s registration number is visible in this frame,’ said Réka. ‘Maybe the driver might remember who crossed the road? I’ll find out who the car belongs to.’

‘Great,’ said Anna wearily.

‘Is everything all right? You seem sad.’

‘It’s nothing.’

‘I can see something’s bothering you,’ Réka said, pushing the point.

‘Péter’s wife is moving back.’

‘Oh, Anna, I’m sorry.’

‘There’s no need. It’s probably for the best. Nothing would have come of it, with me in Finland and him here. Anyway, he has a son. The kid is probably thrilled that his mum and dad are getting back together.’

‘You really fell for him, didn’t you?’

‘It seems that way. But you know what?’

‘What?’

‘I just remembered that Molnár László has an old Renault just like the one we’ve just seen. I was sitting in it only a few days ago. And would you believe he’s involved in people smuggling? Nagy Béla claims he does it out of pure charity, but perhaps he’s not quite as righteous as he makes out.’

‘László is a priest,’ said Réka suspiciously.

‘And? He wouldn’t be the first shepherd to turn into a wolf. Either he saw Lakatos’s murderer or he
is
the murderer.’

‘
Úr Isten
,’ Réka gasped.

‘I must go and talk to him,’ said Anna.

‘Should I come with you?’

‘It’s probably best if you don’t. It’s safest if nobody knows you’ve been helping me.’

‘I’m scared,’ said Réka. ‘You’ve even received threats. What if it’s him?’

Anna thought about the matter.

‘Perhaps I’ll have to swallow my pride and call Péter, ask him to watch my back. He has a police weapon, after all.’

‘Do it, Anna. József and I want you to be the godmother to the baby. You’re my best friend, my oldest friend, and I want us to end up in the same old folk’s home together. Don’t do anything stupid. Agreed?’

Anna promised and hugged her friend.

ANNA MET UP WITH
Molnár László first thing in the morning. They had agreed that Anna and Péter would come to the rectory, which was situated in a small building in the courtyard of a house on Ady Endre utca. Péter had seemed thrilled at Anna’s phone call and agreed to help her as much as she needed. He said he wanted them to remain friends. Anna had heard the sound of his little boy in the background. And the voice of a woman asking him who was calling. Anna decided not to tell him what she thought of friendship between former lovers. She still needed Péter, but this time only for protection. She tried to convince herself this was the case.

The cherry tree outside the house was heavy with ripe fruit. Or should cherries be classified as berries? Anna wondered. László was waiting for them in the street. He’d already made them coffee. For Anna this was her second cup of the morning of the strong, Turkish coffee that made her heart race and her mind restless if she drank even a little too much of it.

‘I’ve been examining the town’s CCTV cameras from the night when my bag was stolen,’ Anna began. This time, too, she had decided to skip the meaningless chit-chat and get straight to the point.

‘Really? Does the video show anything?’

‘Maybe. Your car can be seen crossing the intersection in front of the school shortly after I ran past, chasing the thief.’

‘Well, that’s no surprise. I was probably on my way to the wine fair. Besides, I probably drive past those cameras a hundred times a day when I’m in Kanizsa.’

‘I think it’s quite suspicious that you were at the wine fair and drove off in the same direction the thief and I were running. What’s
more, I’ve found out that you knew Lakatos and that you are involved in some form of people smuggling, just like he was.’

‘Where did you hear that?’

‘I heard you giving coordinates to the young men at the refugee camp. I caught our friend Béla red-handed,’ said Anna. Don’t play stupid, she thought. You expect me to believe he didn’t tell you about this?

László looked at Péter, who sat drinking his coffee as if he wasn’t listening to the conversation.

‘Is that why he’s here?’ asked the priest. ‘To arrest me? You’ll never be able to bring charges against me for smuggling. I have never taken a penny for it. Besides, many people in the police force are doing the same thing. Even the chief of police. Well, he doesn’t actually get his hands dirty, but he turns a blind eye to the activities of some of his officers. Makes sure the investigations don’t lead to his own station. That’s why he doesn’t put a stop to what we’re doing. He’s afraid of anything that might turn heads further up the chain of command.’

‘That’s all very interesting,’ said Anna, and decided to call the telephone number on the back of the card from Interpol as soon as this meeting was over.

‘But people smuggling isn’t the reason we’re here,’ she continued. ‘I believe that you murdered Lakatos Sándor.’

László stared at Anna for a moment. ‘I heard you talking about the autopsy in Békavár. I guessed it must have something to do with the theft of your handbag. So I arranged for you to visit the body in the chapel. Yes, that was me. I would hardly have done that if I’d been guilty of the murder, would I? I have the keys to the chapel and I knew it was where the body was being stored.’

Anna tried not to show her surprise. She needed a moment to take in what she’d just heard. The priest must have been telling the truth, because otherwise he couldn’t have known about Anna’s nocturnal adventure in the cemetery.

‘Why didn’t you tell me directly? Why the secrecy?’

László stood up so suddenly that Anna almost knocked over her coffee cup with fright. Péter was ready to pull out his weapon.

‘Because this is all so difficult for me!’ László shouted. ‘Damn it, this is all so bloody terrible! That’s why!’

Anna and Péter held their breath and waited for the priest to calm down. He paced back and forth to the door a few times before eventually sitting down at the table again.

‘I don’t know what happened to that gypsy boy,’ he continued. ‘But I have my suspicions. Later on, when you mentioned the name Lakatos, the pieces of the jigsaw fell into place. I’ve had strong suspicions right from the start.’

‘From the start?’

‘From the time of your father’s death.’

‘What do you mean?’ asked Anna. Her mouth was suddenly dry and she felt dizzy. Part of her didn’t want to hear what the priest said next.

‘Lakatos János was sentenced to death for your father’s murder. I was the only person who saw him before the sentence was carried out. I don’t know why he picked me – as far as I know he was a Catholic. Perhaps I was the only priest who agreed to visit him. I truly do not know. Be that as it may, he told me he had been drinking somewhere nearby on the night of the murder and that someone had framed him.’

‘I heard that too. Tell me what you suspect.’

‘When I drove to the intersection on the night of the wine fair, someone crossed the road in front of me. A pedestrian. Did you see him on the tapes?’

‘Yes, but I couldn’t identify the man. I was going to ask you about him.’

‘Well, I did identify him.’

‘Who was it?’

‘It hurts to say it out loud because I don’t want to believe he has anything to do with the death of the thief or of your father. It simply cannot be. He is … he is a good man. My friend.’

‘Remete Mihály?’

The priest looked out at the cherry tree outside the window and attempted a smile. ‘No, not him.’

‘For Christ’s sake, tell me. Sándor’s little sister Dzsenifer is missing – she’s probably dead too by now. I’ve been threatened, and someone even tried to kill me. You must tell me what you know.’

László sighed and looked at Anna, his eyes moist with sadness.

‘It was Gábor who crossed the road that night,’ he said. ‘And that’s not all.’

ANNA LOCKED HER BEDROOM DOOR,
looked at the chaos of notes and photographs taped to her wall and spoke to it defiantly: I’m going to crack you now, she said.

Molnár László had told her he was certain he’d seen Gábor driving back from Velebit on the night of her father’s murder, just as he had been coming from Totovo Selo. At first he hadn’t paid the matter any attention, but later on he heard that Gábor claimed to have been at his office in the police station all night. Anna explained that a possible sighting didn’t amount to anything at all, and the priest said that was precisely why he had never spoken about this to anyone. But when he saw Gábor at the crossing on the night of the theft and later heard what had happened to Sándor, it was as though the decades had flashed before his eyes. Why was Gábor yet again near the spot where a murder had taken place? Why did the bag thief have the same surname as the man convicted of István’s murder? Was it coincidence? How had Gábor afforded to pay his children’s university fees and trips abroad, even though inflation in Yugoslavia had eaten up everybody’s savings?

Anna took her collection of plastic bags out of her desk drawer. She believed that László was telling the truth, but there was still one matter she needed to confirm. One of these grey-haired men might be guilty of, or at least indirectly involved in, the two deaths. Nobody seemed to have a decent alibi for the night of the wine fair; everybody had something to do with the mafia; everybody seemed to be hiding something and worried about their reputation. If there was one thing she had learned about her former homeland, it was that nothing is necessarily the way it appears.

The hairs. The named re-sealable plastic bags were in a row next to the microscope. Anna thought of all those Hungarian greetings and courtesies. She loathed them so much, but they could prove very useful in a criminal investigation. Kisses on the cheek and hugs with
the fisherman, the politician, the priest and the policeman – long enough for her to snatch a loose hair or two from their shoulders. It was at László’s house that Anna had finally completed her collection. With Péter’s help she had originally planned on arranging a DNA test on all the hairs, but there wasn’t time for that now.

It is incredible that something as mundane as a strand of hair can be so different in every person, she thought. The structure, colour and surface patterns all differed significantly, even in these grey-haired old men. Not a lot, but clearly enough that a simple microscope was enough to show her which of the four samples most resembled the hair that Anna had found at the site of the bag thief ’s murder. A DNA test would verify the matter later, but using just her eyes and a microscope, the result was clear and reliable.

She read through one of the old case files one last time. All the pieces of the puzzle finally fitted together. She looked at her investigation taped to the wall and saw the familiar face of the grey-haired man. She called Réka first, then Péter.