‘We’ll need you to come in and make a statement first thing
V o
in the morning, Mr Lukasz,’ said Fry. ‘Your wife, too. And I’m afraid we’re going to have to arrange for a translator so that we can interview your father.’
‘Is that really necessary?’
‘It’s beginning to look extremely necessary,’ said Fry.
The noise level had risen in the main hall, as if in expectation of forthcoming excitement. Sure enough, preparations were being made on the little stage. Cooper was reminded again of the old (oiks’ parties the police choir sometimes sang at. Usually, half
27S
their audience had fallen asleep by the time they gut to the third song food and a glass of sweet sherry saw to that. But this audience was only warming up. He wondered what form of entertainment was appropriate to the evening.
Lukasz followed his gaze. ‘There’s a nativity play, he said. ‘A what?’ said Cooper.
‘A nativity play. Surely …’
‘I know what a nativity play is. But it’s the middle of January.’
‘This is our opAjfc^ dinner/ said Lukasz. ‘It’s the time for the community. Not like (ji^i/m, which is for the family. The nativity play will he performed by the children from the Saturday school.’
‘You mean Sunday school/ said Cooper, thinking he was getting the hang of it. Many of the Poles were good Catholics, and he had seen the Church of Our Lady with its little school next door.
‘Saturday/ said Lukasz. ‘On Saturday mornings, the children study Polish. This year, some of them will take their O-level. I took it myself. I got a Grade 2, and Dad was very proud. He said I spoke the language almost as well as they do hack home. Now my youngest children, Richard and Alice, are learning at the Saturday school, too.’
‘We’d better be going/ said Frv.
O O’ v
‘You could stay for the nativitv play, if you want/ said Lukasz. ‘You’re very welcome/
‘No, thank you. Oh, one more thing we need Andrew’s address in London/
‘Of course.
Cooper hesitated, finishing his beer. There was no detectable peach or melon or pepper flavour, no blade of grass lurking in the bottom of the glass. It was a bit disappointing really. Yet the aftertaste had an indefinable strangeness that he knew would stay with him for the rest of the night.
‘Mr Lukasz/ he said, ‘before Nick Easton’s visit, had something else happened to upset your father?’
Lukasz nodded. ‘You re right. My father has been outraged at the pillaging of the aircraft wrecks that has been going on for
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years. The final straw was when his cousin Klcmens’ cigarette case turned up. It was an old silver case that Klemens had brought with him to Britain from Poland, and it had his initials engraved on it. My father was very angry ahout that. He wanted to know where it had come from, and who had taken it from Klemens. He thinks that taking things from the wrecks is desecration, because they’re war graves that are being robbed. All his old
V O O
hatred welled up again over that cigarette case. It was directed
1C) O
against the people he calls vultures.’
‘Vultures?’
‘Yes, vultures. Carrion feeders. My father says these people are picking over the remains of the dead, like vultures.’
‘Did your father see this cigarette case himself, or did someone tell him about it?’ asked Cooper.
‘Oh, he saw it, and held it in his own hand. He identified it beyond any doubt.’
‘Who showed it to him, Mr Lukasz?’
‘Well …’
‘Let me guess. Was it your son Andrew, perhaps?’ Cooper waited for the slight nod. ‘Do you think that might have been what they argued about last Sunday?’
Lukasz drained the last of his honey-flavoured vodka. ‘Yes, I’m afraid it was.’
Ben Cooper felt the cold air hit him when they got outside the Dom Kombatanta and he found himself back in Harrington Street near Walter Rowland’s house.
‘We need to find Andrew Lukasz,’ said Cooper.
‘Put him on the list then,’ said Fry. ‘Baby Chloe, Eddie Kemp, Andrew Lukasz. I wonder if they’re all lurking in the same place somewhere. That would certainly need your famous bit of luck, wouldn’t it, Ben?’
‘It looks as though Nick Easton must have been asking questions of the wrong people.’
‘The vultures maybe? The ones the old man was so angry about for pillaging the aircraft wrecks?’
‘Maybe so,’ said Cooper. ‘The other person we need to talk to is Graham Kemp, Eddie’s brother. It sounds as if he’s the number
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one collector of aviation memorabilia. If anybody knows where items like Klcmcns Wach’s cigarette rase came from, he will.’
‘Docs he live in Lclendale?’
