Murder In Steel

Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

      There were more items on our agenda. The first was to contact the lady my friend Tibor recommended, the one he rescued from the Secret Service. The second was to go to the abandoned building, attempt to enter and look around. Following that, I was to call Ervin and get some information about hiring actors and extras.

       Tibor called the night before to tell me that he spoke to his former employee who was more than anxious to talk to me.

      “This is an old lady, over 80. She has been through a lot and she retains a certain amount of suspicion of people, many of whom didn’t treat her very well. She is sharp but she doesn’t fully believe that there was much of a change in the system of government, that there are no more Communists in power. When I reminded her of the change, she said, ‘Wouldn’t this be a wonderful dream,’ so go easy on her, my friend.”

      I reassured Tibor, called the lady, and we agreed to meet. She sounded mentally sharp on the phone, no suspicion, just eagerness to meet her friend’s friend. She told me that she trusted Tibor, and since he introduced me as his friend, she trusted me as well. She gave me her address which was in a rundown part of the city. On Tibor’s advice, I bought some groceries for her. I got things a poor lady might not have been able to afford, such as butter, cheese, a whole chicken, some nice Swiss chocolate, fish, oranges and bananas, a couple of bottles of good wine, red and white and, of course, fresh-cut flowers without which no visit to a Hungarian lady is permitted, ever. I hoped she had a refrigerator.

      The lady, Mrs. Avner, opened the door and I was pleasantly surprised. She wasn’t young, of course. She was fast, bright and cheerful, however, and told me right away to call her Violetta. She was wearing clothes that were not fashionable and looked worn but were clean and well maintained, as was her small apartment. The place was decorated in a most attractive way with antique furniture, plants, Persian carpets, none new, but nice. There was even an oil painting on the wall which appeared to be an original by Szinyei-Merse, a very well known Hungarian painter.

      “My grandfather knew Szinyei-Merse well. The painting was a gift for his 50th birthday,” she explained. I handed over the groceries and she was pleased, didn’t appear shy in accepting a gift from a stranger. She even exclaimed happily when she saw the chicken.

      “I haven’t eaten a chicken in a few months!”

      I thought that I mustn’t get to the main topic of my visit right away. We must get acquainted first. She led me to one of the armchairs, another antique, most comfortable and asked if I would like some tea and when I said yes, she went to prepare it. The tea came in real china cups, served in style, a slice of lemon and sugar. She settled down on the sofa across me.

      “Tibor told me that you need some information about the former Secret Service. Please tell me your story and if I can help, I will.”

      I told the whole story briefly and as she listened closely, I saw her interest picking up. She didn’t interrupt. It was obvious that her brain and memory were fully functional. Tibor’s warnings about the lady were totally unnecessary. When my narrative was over, which took less than an hour, she spoke.

      “Young man, you may have come to the right place. Did Tibor tell you what happened to me several years ago?”

      I told her that I knew the outlines of her history. I knew that she was arrested, interrogated none too kindly and released only after Tibor collected some overdue favours.

      “My interrogator and torturer was a fairly young lady of the Secret Service. Please tell me what your lady looked like and tell me your impressions of her.” I described the Colonel’s appearance, her age which was now over 50, her style of dress and her ruthlessness.