Confession

Hungary, May 2020

If Erika Kelemen had known she would be coming to the police canteen this morning, she may have chosen a more striking outfit. Something that said: here I am and I don’t fucking care. As it was, she was wearing a very ordinary pale blue checked jacket, black trousers and a white cotton blouse. She scowled at her reflection in the mirrored glass behind the display counters, which highlighted how short she looked alongside tall, slim Eszter Szabó, the blonde girl in her mid-twenties who wore her hair in a ponytail, a charcoal-grey trouser suit and not one scrap of make-up.

It had taken Erika by surprise when Eszter had asked if the two of them could come here for a private chat. Eszter had appeared at work with bags under her eyes, and Erika, being concerned that something was seriously amiss had agreed to the request, even though she was uneasy about the venue.

Waiting alongside Eszter in the queue for coffee, Erika’s green-grey eyes flicked from side to side, always on the lookout. She adjusted her face mask and patted her shoulder-length auburn hair into place.

Ever since Erika’s sudden and painful departure from Homicide in 2015, she had tried to minimise her contact with the dicks from the tenth floor. Consequently, that meant steering clear of places where they were known to congregate. She wanted to put the whole sorry episode behind her, and nowadays was proud to head a small group of talented women which formed part of the Financial Criminal Investigation Division CID team, based on the second floor. Her seniority meant they had given her the title of departmental supervisor, but Eszter and at least two other members of her team could do their jobs blindfolded. Erika gave them the freedom to shine. Perhaps they had grouped the women together for a reason.

The Police Headquarters on Teve Street marks the intersection of two of Budapest’s main arteries, Váci Street and Róbert Károly Avenue. Known to the locals as Police Palace, its shining cylindrical tower of sapphire-blue glass rises twenty-storeys high and is crowned with a communications mast half as tall as the building itself. The ground floor canteen is light and airy, with ceiling to floor windows. Erika led the way to a table by one of the windows. She removed her face mask and pouted her matt-red lips. Not too bad for a woman approaching her fiftieth birthday. It was a milestone she was dreading and was kept a closely guarded secret, known only to herself and her lover Marcel. No one at work had a clue, and that was precisely the way she would keep it.

They sat. Erika steepled her fingers and waited.

Eszter cleared her throat. “I tested positive. I wanted you to be the first to know.”

Erika’s jaw dropped. “Then what the fuck are you doing here? You should go straight home and isolate for ten days.”

From across the table came an ear to ear grin. Eszter’s eyes sparkled. “I don’t have Covid. I’m pregnant.”

Her smile was infectious and Erika beamed in return. She reached out and placed her right hand on top of Eszter’s, giving it a squeeze. “Congratulations, to you both.”

“Ferenc is over the moon, too. We just moved into our new apartment. The timing couldn’t be better.”

“I couldn’t be more thrilled.”

Eszter looked up, beyond Erika. Her smile evaporated.

Something had caught her attention, but what? Erika’s nose twitched. She was picking up an odour at the polar-opposite end of the scale from a good Burgundy; she inhaled the all-too-familiar cheap cologne with undertones of stale sweat.

From behind her back, a nasal voice said, “Well, well, Kelemen. I haven’t seen you down here for a very long time.”

A rising tide of nausea welled up inside her. After all this time it just had to be him, didn’t it? She swivelled in her seat and looked him up and down disdainfully. In five years he had aged ten; and in a crumpled brown suit, creased yellow shirt, with a stained tie at half-mast, he looked as bad as he smelt.

Her throat felt as rough and dry as sandpaper. “What do you want, Rigo?”

He sneered and had the audacity to move a step closer. When he opened his mouth to speak, she caught the whiff of his halitosis. But before he could utter a word, his phone rang. He pulled it from his frayed trouser pocket and stepped back.

Despite this, Erika heard a raised voice at the other end of the call. A familiar voice, barking out orders.

Rigo’s face blanched. “Yes, Commander Rácz. I’m on my way.” He pocketed his phone and the sneer returned. “We must do this again soon,” he said before making his way towards the exit on the far side of the canteen, looking more like a tramp than a policeman.

Erika waited until he was out of sight before dabbing her brow with a serviette.

Eszter said, “I’ve seen that creep around the place from time to time. He’s no friend of yours, is he?”

Relieved the cloud had passed, Erika said, “That’s one way of putting it. Still, if it wasn’t for him, I would never have joined the FCI and found myself working with you and our amazing team.”

Eszter was no fool and furthermore, had recently passed her detective’s exams. She raised her eyebrow, inviting a fuller explanation.

Erika had never been one to pour her heart out, certainly not to a junior colleague. Even though her departure from homicide was a matter of record, she had never discussed the details of the events with those she now worked with. It was all in the past, and she had no desire to provide them with ammunition to gossip behind her back. Nevertheless, Eszter had confided in her this morning, and she felt she owed her at least a partial explanation of what had just taken place. Anyway, Rigo’s version of today’s encounter would no doubt soon be doing the rounds of Police Palace. Even if Erika stayed clear of the canteen for another five years, Rigo would surely prey on Eszter the next time they crossed paths. It was only fair to forewarn her.

Erika sipped her coffee and leaned forward, elbows on the table, eyes locked on Eszter’s. She whispered, “You know I used to work in Homicide?”

It was common knowledge. Eszter nodded.

Erika continued, “I had never expected to be working there. But eleven years ago there was pressure from above to employ more women in high-profile, frontline roles. I’d been working behind the scenes for almost twenty years in the National Economic Crime Unit, although I did pass my detective exams and got involved in some serious investigations. Then my chief told me to apply for a detective’s role that was coming up in Homicide. I was more amazed than anyone when I got the job.”

She placed her mug on the table and toyed with it. “Rigo was my partner in the Murder Squad for six years. He liked to tell everyone I worked under him.” She shivered at the thought. “Five years ago, I filed a formal complaint against him, for sexual harassment. The idiot pulled his cock out in an elevator full of people. The thing was, all the others were his cronies. He did it to humiliate me in front of them. When I filed the complaint, not one of them remembered seeing anything. Commander Rácz, tried to hush things up too. He told me the instruction had come from the top. I either withdrew my complaint, or I was out.”

“That’s awful,” said Eszter. “Do you really think the order came from the top floor?”

Erika’s voice descended to an almost inaudible level. “Rigo’s brother-in-law was the Deputy High Commissioner.” She clenched her right fist and cracked her knuckles. “But don’t worry. As they say, revenge is a dish best served cold.”