Robert Rej opened the lock and entered the flat. Lena was supposed to get here in a couple of minutes. She promised to come straight after her evening classes. She was supposed to bring some food.
Grzegorz Woźniak’s apartment was a small two room flat in the Praga district of Warsaw. The block of flats was built in the late sixties and Robert could see a difference between this flat and his place. For one thing, in the thirties, they built bigger rooms, thicker walls, and higher ceilings. On the other hand, the floors in the newer apartment were in a much better condition. So were the taps and the doors. And maintenance costs weren’t probably as high. The flat was significantly smaller.
Woźniak furnished it with old-fashioned furniture: these were definitely not pre-war designs but comprised of practical sets from the communist era. Woźniak’s bookshelves were filled with books, both older and newer ones. And these weren’t books which just lied on shelves for decoration reasons: their pages were curved, their edges were folded, on some pages, there were notes scribbled carefully on the margins, some bore the signs of the reader’s nutritional activities as they were covered with spots and stains. Woźniak’s drawers were full of papers written by his old students. On his window panes, there were scientific publications on the subject of history. He was also subscribing to many popular-scientific magazines on history; on the table, there were newest editions he hadn’t had a chance to unwrap from the posting paper. Just from coming into the flat you could say that he was a professor. Just from staying here for a couple of minutes you could conclude that his life was his work and work-life balance scales significantly leaned over to the work side.
Lena rang the doorbell, so Robert let her in. She was wearing high-heeled shoes, a little black dress, and a coat, covering the preceding parts of her outfit. She had a strong makeup, she tied her long black hair in a bun and she carried a bag with Chinese takeaway food, which she handed to Robert.
‘I thought you had classes. You look like you were going on a date.’
‘I had classes. With kids. I could just sit in my pajamas and they wouldn’t notice. I got ready for the job.’
‘This job? Usually, we are supposed to blend in. Detective work is mostly about being discreet.’
‘Have you seen Matrix? Or Men in Black? You set some sexist rules. I want to look good. I’m here for adventure. What are we about to do here?’
‘Not much. We’re supposed to search through the flat. Krakowski gave me the keys. There might be something special. Something extraordinary.’
‘So, we’re just looking around, right?’
‘More or less so. Can you see anything special?’
‘Not much. The man liked studying. You can tell from his books. Gosh, this is so not my cup of tea. Would you read something like this in your free time? The History of Ancient Rome, The History of France, The History of Mongolia, oh that’s interesting. Do you think I could borrow one?’
‘Not really.’
Lena rolled her eyes. From the bookshelf, she went to the wardrobe and opened its door.
‘So he just disappeared. One day, no signs? He left everything as it is right now?’
‘Yeah. Have you ever seen him?’
‘Maybe by accident. I didn’t attend my history lectures. It was too early. I had a period of time when I just couldn’t wake up in the morning. After coming back from Cracov on Monday morning, I was exhausted. I skipped some morning lectures then...’
‘But what do you think about him?’
‘About Woźniak? I don’t know. I think that he was poor.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘I mean, look at his clothes. He didn’t change the clothes much. He has a couple of shirts and sweaters. His furniture seems old. His refrigerator looks like from the Soviet era. You can tell a lot about people just from looking at their things.’
‘So what can you tell about me? You’ve been to my place.’
‘You’re old-fashioned. And you don’t have much money either. You live in a flat you cannot afford, that’s why I live with you. Possibly you don’t pay attention to superficial things. Maybe you just cannot afford them or you have more important things hanging over your head. I could assume your problems stem from divorce. You have to pay for your kids. Was Woźniak divorced?’
‘I believe his wife left him. He had affairs.’
‘I wouldn’t tell this about him,’ Lena laughed ‘He doesn’t seem to be seductive.’
‘But that’s the deal, Lena. He just didn’t pay attention to superficial things. Books, magazines. Maybe he was seductive, maybe he was able to charm women with his knowledge, wit, and eloquence...’
‘Maybe.’
‘And from looking at me, would you tell that I’m gay?’
Now Robert was curious.
‘No. I mean when I think about it, it kind of makes sense. But I wouldn’t tell. You look good. But you’re not too manly, not too feminine. You’re likable. Women seem to like you. That’s about it. And from looking at me, what would you say?’
‘I wouldn’t say that you’re a lesbian.’
‘I wasn’t talking about that.’
‘But are you?’
‘No. I don’t find women attractive. But what would you tell about me? What would you tell if you saw me like this, let’s say, for the first time?’
‘That you are an Asian prostitute. Or some escort, taking into account how you look today. I would be surprised that you speak Polish. I’d be surprised that you are a teacher.’
‘See. Stereotypes. So Woźniak was probably a heartbreaker despite his lousy clothes and a thin wallet.’
‘And what would you say about yourself if you entered your room?’
Lena frowned.
‘I’d say I’m superficial. Material. Easily influenced by trends. You know, everything older people want to think about my generation. Internet-obsessed irresponsible teens. Or that I’m not patriotic because I bought Swedish furniture and not Polish. Or that I’m not particularly rich as it’s still IKEA.’
‘You’re kind of patriotic. IKEA has factories in Poland.’
Lena was interested.
‘Oh, really? I didn’t know about that. But that’s a new set of furniture. You cannot tell everything about a person just from looking at his furniture. There are layers. I think Woźniak was really into his studies. Look at these. These magazines were recent. He never stopped learning. He was probably the real deal. I hate such guys. They think that their subjects are the most important in the world. As if I didn’t have anything better to do than to read history books all day long...’
‘It was you who wanted to read The History of Mongolia,’ snapped Robert ‘You said you’re superficial.’
‘I have better days. But you know, I sometimes get these people. I get why they do it, why they enter this mind zone. When I was in London, I had no other thing to do but to learn English. I dropped out from studies. My job at a cafe wasn’t the busiest one, or the most demanding. It wasn’t a cafe in the 1st Zone. No crowds. I had time for myself. I bought textbooks, I read magazines. And in a short time, I made a big progress. I liked the process. For months I was just reading and rereading. Listening and repeating. I was even talking to myself. I was eavesdropping people. I could do that with any language if I had to, I suppose. Like a geek. Like Woźniak. They are geeks. They escape into the world of facts, figures, and battles. I’m just bored by all those.’
‘We should do something.’ Robert was looking at the collection of Woźniak’s photographs. There were pictures from various conferences, scientific meeting, professional trips, lectures, inaugurations of new academic year, MA thesis defenses, private trips to ruins, monasteries, cathedrals, and museums.
‘Yes?’
‘We should get in touch with these lovers of his and his family members. They would tell us about him more than we would learn from being here.’
‘There’s one more thing I can tell without meeting him,’Lena looked around the study ‘He’s terribly clean for a professor. You’ve seen those guys, they usually wear one sweater for a month. Woźniak has got three sweaters. He should be messy.There’s no dust. There’s no rubbish. He should be constantly thinking about his books and theses. Not about cleaning. Intellectuals are more likely to be messier than me.’
‘Why all intellectuals have to be slobs?’
‘I’m just saying. Look at his books. Stains, folded pages. He doesn’t care how they look like. Even Krakowski looks like he has a mess at home.Yesterday he had two different shoes.’
‘Krakowski has a nice flat, I was there. It looked normal.’
‘Oh, he invited you over! I didn’t have such a privilege. And what about Volkov’s flat?’
‘Whose flat?’
‘Anton Volkov. The Russian student I was supposed to locate and make a fool of myself just to get his number...’
Robert went red in his face in a second.
‘This Anton Volkov. I haven’t had time to contact him yet.’
Lena was supposed to say something, but suddenly Robert’s phone rang, his ring tone exposing his love for classical music. He took his mobile from his pocket and answered the phone. He was talking for a couple of minutes, during which Lena sat on Woźniak’s armchair and stretched her legs, placing her shoes on the coffee table.
‘We should be leaving. Something has happened,’ Robert hang up.
‘Yes?’
‘Another professor is missing. Now the police got involved. We shouldn’t be seen here.’
Lena whistled and rolled her eyes again.
‘Where are we going to eat the Chinese food? It’s the first month we can actually afford to eat out. I lost five kilograms on your potato diet.’
‘We can eat it on the way. Have you heard about Henryk Tamka?’
‘Tamka? You’re kidding! Everybody knows Tamka. He has a fan club. He’s so popular! When I was in my first year he won the contest for the sexiest professor. It was unofficial, but, apparently, he was aware of the results. I’m not sure what he teaches though...’
‘History.’
‘Oh, see! We’re looking for a serial killer who only kills history professors. There’s a clue!’
The fact that both men were history professors might have been a clue. The fact that they were both lecturers at Warsaw University was also a clue. But Robert sensed that Henryk Tamka was a far different kind of professor than Grzegorz Woźniak had ever appeared to be.
