Murder In Steel

Chapters 15 7 16

CHAPTER 15

       During my visit in the pub a little while ago with the young people working at the airport, they told me that Lola was employed as a cleaner there, so I didn’t expect any difficulty locating her. There were several items with which she might be very helpful. I needed to know how exactly she managed to be in the passport control booth when I arrived. As well, I needed to find out if she played any other part in my detention there. Her appearance in Yekaterinburg also needed an explanation.  I had the impression, both at the airport and in Russia, that she was acting under some form of duress, and while this may have been in my imagination only, I needed to ascertain if I was right. Her help in our escape showed quite convincingly though that she was forced to play a role.
       The trip to the airport was easy and fast and a cooperative person with a mop in the Arrival’s lounge told me where to find the lady. She was taking a break in the cleaners’ canteen. The directions were clear, there was no need to go through doors marked “for authorized personnel only,” and I found the canteen fast. It was a fairly large, bright room, with a picture window looking directly at the runways, always an impressive sight. There were a few ladies at one of the tables and I recognized Lola immediately. She looked up as I entered and I could tell that she recognized me, as well. She didn’t look frightened or uncomfortable and after a few seconds, as I approached the table, the beginnings of a smile were visible on her face. 
       She said a few words to her companions, stood up and motioned me to another table, far enough so we would be out of their hearing range. She greeted me like an old friend and hugged me. We sat down. She poured a cup of tea for me, brought me a few slices of lemon, sugar, spoon and a napkin. So far no words were spoken. She was still smiling, she looked welcoming and I was pleased and expected the discussion to be friendly and productive.
       “Good to see you again. It looks like your escape from Russia was successful. Let me guess why you are here, Professor and let me tell you that I expected you to come to see me for some time. I know that you looked for me before. I know that you had my photo and that my young colleagues recognized me. But before we go on, I repeat that I am pleased to see you here, in one piece and healthy. I see that you haven’t been seriously damaged by your much too brief visit to Yekaterinburg.” There was an impish smile on her face now but no regrets, no apology, and I saw a lady who was comfortable with herself, at peace and one with a good sense of humour. She continued.
       “I expect you might want to ask me what I was doing in the passport booth, why I interrogated you while wearing a mask, what I was doing in Yekaterinburg, what I think of the trial of the lady who claims to be my mother. Am I correct?”
       “Yes, you are, on all counts,” I responded. The phrase “claims to be my mother” came as a surprise and I was looking forward to an explanation. Lola smiled and started her story directly.
       “Please be patient. This might take a little of your time. I’ll begin with some background here which I think is necessary to explain my actions.
       “I was born when my mother, now Colonel Hegedus, was 14 years old. She wasn’t married at the time. My father might have been a man called George Winer but that is just a guess, not even an educated guess. I was told that within a few days of my birth, my mother left me in a public toilet in Saskatoon and she disappeared. Luckily, I had powerful lungs and cried loud, and was saved by an unknown, a Good Samaritan, who I have never been able to find, though I tried and will continue to keep trying. I was placed in foster care where I was until I turned 12. I was told that I was a difficult child and that while there were potential adoptive families, after hearing of my rebellions and fights, nobody wanted me. I escaped from the foster home and lived on the streets. I worked as a young prostitute. I found a steady job when I turned 14. I looked much older by then, so nobody harassed me to go to school. I became a housekeeper in the mansion of a Hungarian couple. I learned to read and write properly and to speak Hungarian, as well. I worked there for almost 20 years and I loved my employers who adopted me and became my real parents. Through them I obtained Hungarian citizenship. They were kind, loving, thoughtful and helpful and when I gave birth to a little boy they were wonderful to me. They treated him as their genuine grandson.
       “They also tried to help me find my biological mother. Their search, however, yielded nothing.  Advertisements in all Canadian and Hungarian newspapers, describing as much as was known about my birth, led nowhere. My foster parents didn’t even know if I was born in a hospital or in a home. I finally got used to not knowing my background.
       “When my foster parents died, within a couple of days of each other, I was devastated. They had no other living relatives and in their will they left me their house and a considerable amount of money. I continued to live in the house and brought up a wonderful, loving son. He is now studying philosophy at a university.
       “Shortly after, I received a message from a woman who identified herself as my mother, gave her name as Mrs. Williams, and wanted to meet me.  I was curious enough to agree. At the meeting I asked for proof and she provided it in the form of a photo of the bottom of the left foot of a baby which showed a tattooed five-pointed star. I had one of those tattoos. I chose not to tell this to the lady whose approach, soon after I came into some money, seemed very suspicious to me. 
       “The lady wanted to re-establish the usual mother-daughter relationship, wanted hugs and kisses and took it very unkindly when I refused and said that my real mother, the one who brought me up with love, not the one who left me to die, just passed away and that I was an orphan.
       “She then wanted to explain why she left me several decades ago and was even more unhappy when I told her that I didn’t care and didn’t want to hear her stories and wanted nothing more to do with her. I told her that I didn’t believe that she was my mother and asked her leave.
       “She became furious. Her face showed pure hate and her eyes looked cold and threatening. She told me, ‘You have a son. You care about him. You would be upset if he met a serious accident. Well, I offered to be good to you. I offered to be your mother which I am actually. You rejected me. I am leaving but you will hear from me very soon. I will tell you what I will want you to do. You will do as I want. If not, your son will die.’ She had a way of talking and looking at me that frightened me thoroughly. I tried to escape, and moved to Budapest. I became employed as a cleaner at the airport. I didn’t know that the woman also lived in Budapest.
       “You know the rest.  She found me. I was commanded to be in the passport booth.  I was ordered to be in Yekaterinburg, wearing an idiotic karate costume. I was ordered to take part in your abduction. My son is now living in peace, at a secret location. That is my story.”
       And quite a story it was. I was exhausted just from listening to her. We sipped the tea in silence for a few minutes.
       Then she said with a smile, “I am anticipating your next request. I would gladly testify against Mrs. Williams. She is an evil person. I and my son will feel truly safe only when she is in jail for a long time.”
       I stayed to finish the tea with Lola, who proved herself to be a remarkable lady, courageous and helpful. I couldn’t wait to tell the story to Dr. Lengyel and Chief Rákossy. Lola agreed to a meeting with the lawyer who I called right away. She answered her cell-phone on the second ring and was free to meet us next morning. When I suggested to Lola that she should also meet the Chief of Detectives, she appeared  uncomfortable, waffled a bit and said that she would rather not meet him. I decided to leave it at that, not wanting to press my luck.
       In the morning we were on time for the meeting with the lawyer. Lola simply repeated her story while Dr. Lengyel listened spellbound. She was elated.
       “I’m sure that we have an ace here. True, while your narrative doesn’t prove the existence of the Communist conspiracy, it still shows the true nature of the Colonel. There were comments you must have overheard about the conspiracy. These might well be inadmissible in open court as hearsay but they are still very useful as background.”
       Lola added that she had, in fact, clearly heard the Colonel ordering me to kill the taxi driver and threatening my daughter if I refused.  This, in some jurisdictions, was just as bad as the killing itself. Lola also heard the discussions about the Communist takeover.
       Dr. Lengyel asked if Lola was willing to confront her mother in court or during an interrogation session. The plan was for her to walk into the room unannounced as the Colonel was giving her testimony. Lola agreed and I informed Chief Rákossy. He also agreed that we had a winner.