Kowalski parked at the end of the village. ‘This is where you’re from, isn’t it?’ Rath said. ‘Don’t you want to call in on your parents?’
‘They don’t live here any more. My father is with his fellow soldiers, where we came in.’
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t know.’
‘You don’t have to be sorry, I don’t know any different. I was just a boy when it happened. Five years old when my mother told me Papa was dead. You accept these things as a child, you think it’s normal. First you turn five, then your father dies, then you go to school.’
‘What about your mother?’
‘She remarried a few years after the war and moved to America.’ Kowalski looked at him. ‘I didn’t want to go, so Uncle Fritz looked after me.’
Rath fell silent. He didn’t want to probe any further.
In the meantime Adamek had exited the vehicle and started walking, following the village road until he turned onto a path. ‘We’d best make sure we don’t lose our guide,’ Rath said. The old man set a quick pace, but it wasn’t just his head start that made it hard to keep up. With his long legs he covered the ground quickly, and soon Rath was out of breath. ‘Wait a moment,’ he cried, and, surprisingly, Adamek came to a halt. ‘I need a break. Please.’
Kowalski opened his rucksack and took out a canteen along with several smoked sausages. He offered one to Rath. ‘No, thank you. I’d rather have water.’
Kowalski passed him the canteen, and he took a few sips. Adamek declined. ‘Best keep moving,’ the old man said. ‘It’s a long way.’
‘Fine,’ Rath said. ‘But a little slower, please. You’d almost think you were trying to run off.’
Adamek nodded and started out again, slower than before, but still at a brisk enough clip. At least they were still following a path. Upon reaching a clearing, however, it came to an end, and soon they were moving through the middle of the forest, over sandy, grassy terrain, which shifted underfoot, but was held together here and there by moss. Rath was glad of his new shoes. Suddenly they were moving downhill; behind the tree trunks something glistened brightly. ‘What’s that?’ he asked.
Adamek turned around. ‘The little lake. It doesn’t have a name, but beyond is the Kaubuk’s domain.’
The little lake. He couldn’t help thinking of Radlewski’s lines. ‘Is that where Anna von Mathée was found?’
Adamek nodded, apparently astonished.
They continued downhill for a time, soon reaching the shore. The bank was relatively steep, but the water so shallow the sandy bottom could be seen twinkling in the sun.
This was where Anna von Mathée met her death, he thought. This was where she was found. If only he could have seen what Artur Radlewski saw twelve years ago…
‘We need to keep going, Sir!’ Kowalski said, following Adamek along the shore.
‘Just a moment,’ Rath said. ‘I have to take a look at something.’
He’d spotted a tree trunk or, rather, a thick branch, jutting almost horizontally across the lake, illuminated by sunlight. Something was carved in the bark. He took off his shoes, rolled up his trouser legs and waded the few metres across. The water only reached up to his ankles, but was still decidedly cold.
There was a heart carved in the bark, pitted now and bulging, as if it had been carved a hundred years ago – or maybe twelve. Just a run-of-the-mill heart with initials. He tried to decipher the letters. A.M. and J.P., he read, initials artfully entwined. He tried to mirror the effect in his notebook. Anna had eschewed the von in her name.
J.P.
He snapped his notebook shut. Jakub Polakowski and Anna von Mathée were lovers. Did Maria Cofalka know? He’d have a lot of questions for the librarian when they returned later tonight.
‘Sir? What are you doing? We need to keep moving.’
‘Coming.’
He waded back to the shore, put on his socks and shoes and rejoined the others.
‘What were you doing?’
‘I thought I’d seen something, but it was nothing.’
Kowalski raised an eyebrow, but there was no time for discussion, Adamek had already set off. Reaching the other end of the lake they emerged back into the forest, moving through thick undergrowth where the soil was sandy at first, before it became stony and covered in moss. They had been on the move for an hour by the time they reached a clearing at the end of a pinewood.
‘One of us has to stay here,’ Adamek said. ‘Keep watch for Polish border guards.’
‘Polish border guards?’ Rath asked.
Adamek nodded and gestured back the way they came. ‘The pinewood’s still Prussia.’
‘You realise that beyond this border the Prussian Police have no authority?’
‘Not my problem,’ said Adamek. ‘You wanted to see the Kaubuk’s hut. Well, it’s over there. The Kaubuk doesn’t care whether it’s in Poland or Prussia, and neither do I.’
‘So where is it? Poland or Prussia?’
‘Prussia, if I remember rightly, but no one keeps tabs here on the moors.’
‘Then why don’t we stay in Prussia?’
‘If you want to get as close as possible we need to go through Polish woodland. Going by the moors is longer, and more dangerous.’
‘Very well,’ Rath said. ‘Kowalski, you stand guard, but make sure you stay on Prussian territory. We don’t want an international incident. If you see a Polish border officer, discharge your weapon.’
‘Pardon me?’ Kowalski went pale.
‘In the air! To warn us.’
‘Shooting at the border isn’t a good idea,’ Adamek said. ‘Better to call. Like an owl.’ He demonstrated.
‘Can you do that, Kowalski?’ Rath asked.
Kowalski’s attempt sounded halfway authentic. At the very least it was loud.
Adamek put a finger to his lips. ‘We need to be quiet,’ he said, before disappearing with his shotgun. Into Polish woodland. Rath followed, and after no more than ten minutes the old Masurian came to a halt. Having reached the edge, they gazed out over marshland overgrown with weeds, shrubbery and brush. Dead tree trunks jutted out of the ground.
‘Stop,’ Adamek said, raising a hand. ‘This is where the moor begins. Every step is dangerous.’ Rath nodded respectfully. Adamek pointed into the wilderness. ‘His hut’s over there.’
‘Good,’ Rath said. ‘Let’s go.’ The old man looked at him as if he’d made an indecent proposal. ‘You said you’d take me to the Kaubuk’s hut.’
‘I said I’d show you his hut.’ Adamek pointed towards the marshland, behind which, somewhere, the forest began again. ‘Use the tall pine to take your bearings. Keep going in that direction and it’s another five hundred metres or so, not far. Be careful. You’ll need to watch every step.’
‘Then take me. You know your way around.’
‘Not on the moors.’
‘Do you want money? We should have discussed this before. How much do you want? Perhaps we can come to some arrangement.’
The old man shook his head. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘If you’re not brave enough, then get me Kowalski. Get me Prussian CID!’
Adamek was unmoved. He nodded and disappeared back into the woods.
Rath sat on a warm stone and gazed over the moor. Looking in the direction Adamek had shown, he tried to imagine how a hut might appear in the middle of this inhospitable scrub. There was no doubt it was an ideal location for someone wanting to be left in peace. He listened for Kowalski’s warning cry, but none came. The last thing he needed was to be picked up by a Polish border patrol.