Douglas Jacobson - The Katyn Order

There was a smaller neighborhood church around the corner. The early morning mass had just finished. Natalia and Rabbit waited while the parishioners filed out, then slipped into the empty sanctuary. The odor of incense still hung in the air, and sunlight filtered through the stained glass windows as two nuns collected booklets from the pews, then exited through a side door.

They sat for a while eating the bread and cheese until Rabbit slumped back in the pew, wiping his mouth with his shirtsleeve.

“What happened?” Natalia finally asked.

The food seemed to revive him a bit, but there was a look of fear in his eyes that she had never seen before, not even during the most gruesome battles in Warsaw. “NKVD,” he said, glancing around. “They broke into the safe house in Lodz. It was a week ago… I think… just before dawn. I was asleep in the attic. But I woke up when I heard car doors slamming.” His eyes darted around the empty sanctuary. He moved closer, lowering his voice. “They knew everything.”

“Everything? What do you mean?”

“The two NKVD men you shot. They knew all about it. A Polish policeman was with them, and they were looking for a woman and a teen-age boy.”

Icy fingers played on the back of Natalia’s neck, and she half expected a cadre of NKVD agents to burst into the church with machine guns. “What happened then?”

“They shot someone—the owner of the house, I think. They had Hammer and Zeeka. I climbed out on the roof and got the hell outta there.” Rabbit took a deep breath and wiped his mouth with his shirtsleeve again. “I didn’t know where else to go, so I came here… to find you. You told me about the big church on the market square. I’ve been goin’ there for the last three days. One old nun was startin’ to look at me kind of funny, like I was trying to steal somethin’.”

Natalia put her hand on Rabbit’s shoulder as she tried to absorb the devastating news. Zeeka, Hammer, and how many others, were probably being tortured and murdered because of what she’d done. The NKVD would get the information from them, she was certain of that. One way or the other they’d find out that she had gone to Krakow. And that was a week ago!

“You did the right thing,” she said, squeezing Rabbit’s bony shoulder. “I am very glad to see you.”

He bit off another chunk of bread. “Now what?”

Natalia thought about it. Since the NKVD was looking for a woman traveling with a teen-age boy, they’d have to split up. And she had to find somewhere for Rabbit to stay. Meanwhile, it was already Tuesday, and Adam hadn’t returned. They were going to need help, and there was only one place in Krakow where she had a contact. But she’d been told never to return.

Later that morning, Rabbit walked along the boulevard overlooking the Vistula River, following the directions Natalia had given him to the Kazimierz District. He felt better now than he had for a week. The food and a chance to clean up in the washroom they discovered in the church’s lower level had revitalized him, as did the clean shirt that Natalia had managed to buy at one of the stalls in the marketplace. It wasn’t new, but it fit and it didn’t stink like the one he’d been wearing for as long as he could remember. Natalia had returned to the church’s lower level from the marketplace, wearing a gray scarf over her head and carrying a cane and a black felt hat. In her pocket were scissors that she used to cut his long, blond hair. Then she had handed him the hat. He hated hats but wore it anyway, wondering how much good it would do if the NKVD traced him to Krakow.

Rabbit slowed his pace as he entered a narrow walled street leading to the Church of Archangel Michael and Saint Stanislaus. He suddenly felt very conspicuous, certain that he’d hear heavy footsteps behind him at any moment.

Two women stood talking at the entrance of the church courtyard. As Rabbit approached them, he noticed a man on the other side of the street, leaning against the wall, smoking a cigarette. Is he watching the church?

At that moment the two women turned and walked across the courtyard toward the church. Rabbit made an instant decision and followed them. He kept a few paces behind as they climbed the steps. At the top landing an elderly caretaker stood with his back to the door, pulling bits of weed from a stone planter. Rabbit hesitated, but one of the women ahead of him held the door open. So he entered the church.

Rabbit let the two women go first, then knelt in the pew and pulled out the rosary Natalia had given him, resisting the urge to glance back at the door. He waited, absently moving his fingers over the beads and trying to ignore the tingling on the back of his neck.

Finally it was his turn. He stepped over to the confessional, knelt at the screen and whispered the greeting Natalia had instructed him to use. “In the name of the Lord I come seeking.”

Silence.

Rabbit whispered, “The Conductor sent me.”

There was another moment of silence, followed by a rustle of robes, and the priest cleared his throat. “What do you seek?” he said.

Rabbit replied, “Jastremski.”

More silence, longer this time. Finally the priest said, “We cannot take any more time here. Three o’clock this afternoon, at the Cloth Hall.”

Rabbit exited the church, and hurried down the steps, across the courtyard and through the gate. The man leaning against the wall was still there. Rabbit continued down the narrow street, looking straight ahead. He turned right at the corner, then left at the next street. After five minutes he stopped and knelt down to tie his shoelace. The man was nowhere in sight.

Breathing a bit easier, he walked back along the Vistula, then followed a pathway near the castle that led down to the riverbank. Natalia sat on a bench facing the river.

Rabbit sat down next to her and said, “When I asked about Jastremski, the priest didn’t answer.”

“Didn’t answer? Did he say anything?”

“He told me to be at the Cloth Hall at three o’clock this afternoon.”

Natalia closed her eyes and pressed her fingers to her temples. Then she looked at her watch. “While we have some time, there are some things you need to know.”

At half-past two, Natalia sat at a wrought-iron outdoor table at one of the cafés lining the perimeter of the Rynek Glowny. Most of the cafés were empty, so it was easy to select one that provided a clear view of the massive Cloth Hall on the other side of the vast cobblestone square. Rabbit was two tables away, reading a book about General Pilsudski and the Polish Legions that Natalia had purchased.

Idly stirring a cup of bitter coffee, Natalia thought about the situation. Had something happened to Jastremski? Or had someone gotten to the priest? Was this meeting a setup? She picked up the cup, but her hand trembled and she set it back on the saucer. Calm down and think.

As she glanced at her watch, a shadow darkened the table.

She froze.

Slowly, Natalia turned her head and looked up at a man standing over her.

It was the caretaker from the church.

“I’m sorry if I startled you,” the elderly man said. “May I join you?”

“Yes, of…” She stopped to catch her breath. “Yes, of course. I was expecting the—”

The caretaker shook his head, warning her not to say any more as he slid into the chair opposite. He wore a gray suit with a white shirt and solid blue tie. The suit was clean and neatly pressed but frayed at the ends of the sleeves. He removed his fedora and set it on the table. It was a warm afternoon, uncomfortably humid as though it might rain at any moment, and the elderly man’s high forehead glistened with a film of perspiration as he ran a hand over his thin white hair. “You may call me Leopold,” he said quietly. “I saw you sit down and thought I’d save some time.” His face was tanned and creased from years of outside work, but his ice-blue eyes revealed the intensity of someone who did a lot more than rake gardens. “And you can tell the boy to join us.”