be specific, but I can say that my office is familiar with OstBank.”
“Dirty?”
Liliana drummed her fingers on the steering wheel, weighing a decision. Finally, “A German BKA agent—a sister agency to mine—was killed last week in Berlin.”
“And he was working the OstBank angle.”
“Exactly so.”
“Then that’s the place to start. What time do the banks open here?”
“Not for another hour.”
“Then maybe I will let you run me by my hotel for a quick shower and shave before we head out.”
“Very well. I’ll wait in the lobby.”
29
Jack’s hotel was in the city center, convenient to everywhere by foot, which most of Warsaw seemed to be. The hotel lobby was bright and modern, in muted grays and blues, with white leather couches and Danish-style furniture. The young desk clerk, a cheerful Ukrainian woman, spoke fluent English. She informed him with a bright smile that his room was ready and the corporate tab opened in case he wanted room service or anything else.
“The bank opens in a few minutes,” Liliana said. “Would you like me to call and make an appointment for you?”
“For us, I think.”
“And what do you want me to say the appointment is for?”
“Tell him I’m with Hendley Associates, we’re a large American financial firm, and we want to do business in Poland.” He was quick to add, “All of which is technically true. If there are any business opportunities here, Gerry will want to know about it.”
Liliana smiled. “You have a hard time lying, don’t you?”
“It wasn’t exactly encouraged at home.”
“You’d make a terrible spy.”
“I can’t cook, either.”
“And how should I introduce myself?”
“Are you okay saying that you’re my personal assistant, locally based?”
“Makes perfect sense. I’ll call him while you take care of business.”
“Back in thirty.”
Liliana took a seat on one of the white couches and pulled out her phone.
Jack took the stairs with his two bags to boost his energy. What he really craved was another cup of coffee. Actually, a whole pot.
* * *
—
Twenty-five minutes later he was back in the lobby, showered and shaved and in clean clothes, with a leather folio in hand and his laptop bag slung over one shoulder. He found Liliana on the same leather sofa, texting.
“Ready?”
“Yes.” Liliana stood, pocketing her phone. “The bank manager’s name is Stanislaus Zbyszko and he’s expecting us.”
“Great. Lead the way.”
* * *
—
A constant stream of city trams and cars shuttled passengers everywhere, but the sidewalks were also crowded, even in the rain.
Liliana skillfully navigated the crowded six-lane boulevard, keeping pace with the bright yellow electric tram rolling down the middle seventh lane. Warsaw was a modern, bustling European city. Office buildings crowded the main thoroughfares, along with high-rise apartments and gleaming skyscrapers.
“Almost there,” Liliana said.
“The buildings in Warsaw seem brand-new, or at least most of them do.” The Audi stopped at a red light. Jack pointed at a tall building across the street. “I don’t know what that thing is. Looks like a wedding cake from hell.”
“That’s the Palace of Science and Culture. It was built by Soviet Communists in the fifties. For decades, it was the second-tallest building in all of Europe.”
“I can’t quite make it out. It sort of looks like the Empire State Building, but then it has those weird other features. It’s damn tall, for sure.”
“We locals call it Stalin’s Penis.”
Jack laughed. He wasn’t expecting that one. “Yikes. It does seem rather imposing.”
“The Russians were definitely sending a message. We were, after all, a Soviet colony at the time.”
“It really stands out from the rest of the architecture.”
“Most of what you see is relatively new. What you need to understand is that Warsaw was almost completely destroyed—flattened, just like those pictures you’ve seen of Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the bombing.”
“The Nazis?”
“Yes, and the Russians, who allowed it to happen. Have you heard of the Warsaw Uprising?”
“Yes, but only in passing. We didn’t study it in detail.”
“It is one of our most heroic moments. Thousands of Poles rose up against the Nazi occupiers in 1944, using handmade or stolen Nazi weapons, and guns supplied by the Brits from the air. The Soviets were on the other side of the Vistula, urging us to rise up. But our forces were slaughtered—the very best of the Polish underground—because the Russians refused to intervene. Stalin allowed the Germans to butcher sixteen thousand Polish fighters because he didn’t want any Polish national patriots to survive the war.”
“If it were me, I’d blow that wedding cake up and use the bricks to build outhouses.”
“We prefer to leave it there