Stalin's Gold

“Sorry, my darling, I should have realised.”


Merlin shrugged and picked up Sonia’s bag and they scrunched their way over the pebbles to the pavement and joined the chattering throng of Londoners making their way to the railway station. By the pier, a Punch and Judy man was packing up his pitch. His face was bright red, whether through exertion or sunburn or a bit of both, Merlin could not tell. As the Punch and Judy man paused to mop perspiration from his forehead, he caught sight of Sonia and winked at Merlin. A welcome gust of sea-breeze blew across Merlin’s face. Another gust of wind rustled through a bucket of children’s celluloid windmills next to the partly dismantled booth. The pier was still crowded and noisy and the predominant sound seemed to be that of crying children. It had no doubt been a long, hot, tiring day for many. They crossed the street, half-running as they looked up at the clock opposite the pier chiming the half-hour and reached the station with a minute to spare, but the press of people was so great that it was another ten minutes before the train got under way. Merlin ran down the platform holding Sonia’s hand and was lucky enough to find an empty compartment in the first of the second-class carriages they entered. By the time the train got under way, their compartment was full. A young couple with two exhausted toddlers sat opposite them and a soldier and his sweetheart next to them. Within a few minutes, as the train gently chugged its way through the beautiful, slowly darkening Sussex countryside, Sonia was dozing with her head against the window and her hand in his. She woke briefly as the train jolted to a stop at the first station and repositioned her head on Merlin’s shoulder and he smiled as he breathed in the sweet salty smell of her hair. Within another fifteen minutes, all in the compartment had succumbed to that particularly pleasurable sleep brought on by a day at the seaside. No one stirred until they reached Victoria, even when the guard noisily stretched past everyone to pull down the blackout blinds.



*



They had a long wait for a taxi at the station and it was gone ten when they got back to Sonia’s place, a tiny little pink mews house just off Baker Street. Since the girl who had shared the rent with her had left a couple of months before, it had become a little too expensive for Sonia and Merlin had insisted on helping her out with a contribution.

As they got out of the cab, they could see that the lights were on behind the blackout curtains. Sonia smiled. “It must be Jan.” Sonia turned her key in the door and they entered the small living room. A tall, lean, young man was sprawled out in a dressing gown on the sofa. He seemed to be asleep but, as Merlin closed the door, one of the man’s eyes cracked open.

“Sonia. Is that you?” Jan jumped suddenly to his feet and brushed some crumbs from his pyjama jacket. A half-eaten tomato sandwich lay on the small table in front of him. He leaned over to kiss Sonia on the cheek.

“This is Frank Merlin. Frank, my brother Jan.”

The men shook hands. “So you are the policeman. Very pleased to meet you, sir. I have heard much about you from Sonia.”

Merlin extricated his hand with difficulty from Jan Sieczko’s firm grasp and nodded his head. “Yes, likewise. And I’ve heard all about you, Mr Sieczko. Good to meet you too.”

“Please, call me Jan. And may I call you Frank? After all, you’re almost one of the family now.”

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