Chapter 2

When Sam rejoined him in his office, Foyle was pacing across the carpet from the window to the hearth.

"Here it is, sir."

"Good. Thank-you, Sam." He opened the file immediately where he stood, and began scanning the documents and reports quickly, a scowl darkening his features.

"Is anything wrong, sir?"

He continued studying the file, but answered with some heat,

"Well, the man is clearly a patriot, an ally, has risked his life in the service of his country - and ours; and we're being asked by the new occupiers of his homeland to track him down? You can be sure we're not the only ones looking for him."

"I see what you mean. There is some urgency, isn't there?"

"I'd say so." Foyle carried the open file to his desk,

"Sam, I know it's late, but we'll need additional help with this. Can you ask Charlotte to step in?"

"Charlotte? Oh, well, yes, sir." Sam went to the research department with a worried frown creasing her brow. The two women returned and stood before Mr. Foyle's desk expectantly.

"Thanks, er, sit down, please."

He began, "Look, I think we have an urgent situation, arising from this request from the Polish TRJN. We need to find this Resistance fighter, code name Wilk, before anyone else does. I think we can be confident in assuming the NKVD are after him, and it's quite possible the UB - the new Polish Communist secret police - are here in London as well."

"How can I help, sir?" Charlotte asked without hesitation.

"We need to identify Wilk. He could very well be one of the agents we know, who either passed through Stettin or was operating there. This will take time, but if we can match his movements to our information on the activities of another known agent, that could be our lead. Sam has the files on twenty-two operatives who, at some point, worked in Stettin; we'll need all those files, Sam."

"Sir." She rose to fetch the stack from her desk, but he held up a hand.

"Wait." Foyle glanced at his watch, "It's nearly half past five. Sam, I hate to ask, but would you be willing to telephone Adam and tell him I need you to stay, that you'll be quite late?"

"Of course, sir."

"And Charlotte? Do you need to call someone, or make arrangements?"

"Just my Mum and Dad, sir. They'll understand."

"Thank-you."

They worked together in Foyle's office, having each read Wilk's file and discussed the dates and the type of work he had done during and at the end of the war. Charlotte had brought in a rolling chalkboard and noted down what they agreed were the important facts. Then they divided up the twenty-two dossiers and started to compare the movements and missions of the known agents.

A half-hour in, Sam looked over at Foyle with a puzzled expression,

"Sir, why has Światło waited nearly a year before looking for this man? Or, at least, before requesting our help?"

Foyle stroked his temple thoughtfully, "That's a very good question. Let's keep it in mind."

The offices around them and the entire floor gradually emptied of staff, until the whole building became silent. By eight o'clock, they had eliminated twelve resistance fighters who had primarily operated in the eastern regions of Poland and did not correspond with Wilk's movements. That left ten potential matches, but now they were all three showing signs of fatigue.

Sam looked up and coughed to disguise the sound of her stomach growling, then offered,

"Sir, shall I see if there's anything in the kitchen? At least a pot of tea?"

Foyle eventually raised his head and answered distractedly, "Er..., yes, do."

But Charlotte spoke up,

"There's not likely to be much, Sam. I'll send out for sandwiches, if that suits? We often do that when there's a cri-, er, I mean, when we're working late."

Sam and Charlotte went to make tea and order food, respectively. Foyle, now in shirtsleeves and waistcoat, continued to read, until he heard voices approaching in the hall. He closed the file, scrubbing his hands over his face, stood and stretched his back, then walked out his office door.

Sam carried a tray of tea things, and Charlotte led an older man with a basket of provisions past the desks in the research department office. They were heading into a meeting room equipped with a larger table and a dozen chairs. Foyle watched them go in, chatting brightly at the prospect of a meal, then called to Charlotte for a word in the hall. He spoke quietly, with a frown of concern,

"Is this standard procedure, Charlotte? Having the delivery man come up to the offices?"

"Oh, it's all right, sir, Mr. Borkowski owns the tea shop just down the street from my parents' house. I've known him all my life, you see."

"Ah. Borkowski? Is he Polish?"

"I suppose so. Yes. But his family have been here since before the Great War. His father knew my grandfather."

"Let's have a word with him, shall we?"

Foyle had Charlotte introduce him to the man, who was around sixty, and was, indeed, of Polish origins. As they sat together sharing the tea and the surprisingly well-filled basket, Foyle learned that Tomasz Borkowski had fought for Britain in the Great War, and that his family had been part of the wave of emigration begun in the 1870s when Poland had been absorbed into the German Empire until 1918. Since arriving they had lived as Britons, while holding on to their language and cultural traditions within the Polish community.

Eventually Foyle decided that he could trust the man and asked for Borkowski's help in introducing him to leaders in the community who might be aware of the... unorthodox... arrival of some Poles from the continent. They discussed the social and political turmoil plaguing his homeland, of which he and all his friends were well aware, and how that danger was following certain Poles even as they escaped to other lands.

The two men continued their conversation in private as they walked together down to the front entrance, and Foyle mentioned the name of an acquaintance of his that he felt might be of assistance to Borkowski in smoothing the way in his inquiries.

"There are some 35,000 Poles in London alone, Mr. Foyle, and more arriving every day, but we will do what we can to help you find this man. I think we have the same interests at heart."

They agreed to meet the next morning after Borkowski had arranged some appointments with his contacts.

Foyle was prepared to get back to work, but as it was now well after nine o'clock, he assured the two young women they could leave, however both declined. They continued to read through the dossiers, and Charlotte was the first to have eliminated all of hers. Foyle had one file remaining, but before he got to it, Sam began to read out some dates, locations and events with rising excitement.

"Sir! I think I've got him. Listen to this:

"August 1943, Wyszków. Home Army attack on nine German border guard stations.

"September through December '43, Lubelski Province. Sabotage of railway lines and train cars, destroyed German supplies. Various intelligence relayed to SOE via AK Courier."

As Sam read out the information, Foyle and Charlotte rose from their desks, Charlotte going to the chalkboard, Foyle to look over Sam's shoulder. They listened to the details of the agent's work over the past three years, and watched as Charlotte put checkmarks next to the dates for each of Wilk's corresponding movements. Foyle quietly added the proper Polish pronunciation for the locations,

"February '44, Lublin (Loob-leen). Sabotage of rail lines and rolling stock. Intelligence reports sent via AK Courier.

"March '44. Near Krasnik. (Kraszhneek). Joined group of 30 local partisans in liberating a convoy of labour camp prisoners.

"April '44, Krasnik. Intelligence on joint Red Army & AK defeat of German troops. Subsequent intelligence from partisans near Polesie (Polay-sha) of Soviet capture of AK soldiers.

"May and June '44, Poniatowa (Ponya-tovah). With AK forces liberated the town from German occupation, in advance of Red Army. Reported that village is virtually deserted, and remaining German civilians showed site of trench where 15,000 Jewish slave factory workers were executed on Nov. 4, 1943, and covered over.

"July '44, Krasnik. Witnessed Red Army takeover of former Nazi labour camp for incarceration of partisans and AK soldiers. Intelligence passed on to SOE.

"August '44, Lublin. Located members of AK units disarmed, disbanded and dispersed by Red Army. Attempted to join partisans supporting Warsaw uprising, but unable to cross Vistula, prevented by Red Army encampments. No further intelligence until -."

"February '45, Radom (Rrahdom). Witnessed Red Army executions of Polish soldiers who fought with them against Nazi forces. Liberated thirteen AK POWs from Soviet guards on march to prison."

Charlotte skipped over two entries on the board as Sam did not have them in her file.

"June '45. Szczecin. Intelligence on movements of Red Army units and expulsion of civilian groups.

"Also in June '45, 'met with local members of the PSL.' Sir?"

Foyle explained, "The 'Polish People's Party,' a Socialist group. They are part of the coalition making up the Provisional Government."

Sam nodded and continued,

"July '45. Wyrzysk (Vih-zhisk). With WiN unit, captured NKVD prison and freed 43 political prisoners. Shot 2 UB agents and 2 Red Army soldiers."

"August '45. Szczecin. 'Intelligence on Soviet arrests of Polish Socialists.' That's the last entry."

Sam looked up expectantly at her two colleagues.

"It's a match, isn't it, sir!" Charlotte exclaimed, relieved and happy.

"Well done, Sam, Charlotte. Thank-you, both." Foyle gave them a smile of gratitude and pride, before asking,

"And what is the man's name?"

"It's - er - oh. Perhaps you can read it, sir?" She turned the file around towards him.

"Stanislaw Franczak - Staneeslav Franchuck." he pronounced carefully.

"...Born in Jastków (Yastkof). That's not far from Lublin. Attended University of Kraków, until '39. Former Instructor in Związek Harcerstwa Polskiego (Zvee-alzek Har-terstva Polskay-go) - that's the Scout Movement. Active in Armia Krajowa (Arrm-ee-a Kry-ova) - the AK, since 1943. Achieved rank of Porucznik (Porooge-nick), - that's Lieutenant, serving with 3rd and 27th Piechota (Pyay-hota), - Infantry..."

Sam and Charlotte exchanged a glance,

"Do you speak Polish, sir?" Sam asked.

He answered distractedly as he examined the papers,

"...Only the little I picked up in the last War."

Glancing up at the chalkboard, he noted,

"There are two entries for Wilk that do not appear in Franczak's file - February '45, At Otwock (Otvotsk): 'In contact with friends of Resistance member Jolanta.' I'll look into that. And March '45, Ruchocice (Rookaw-chee-chay), without notation. Charlotte, I understand there are separate, detailed reports of the intelligence received from AK couriers, filed by date. In the morning - not now, it's late - could you pull those reports covering Franczak's work in Lublin and Krasnik?"

"Yes, Mr. Foyle."

He carried the file to his desk, slipped it and Sam's handwritten notes inside one of the other agent's files, picked up Wilk's and slipped that, along with the map and photographs, into another file, then placed all four into a briefcase. While he did this, he asked Sam and Charlotte to hide the other agents' files in their desks in the research department, and to erase - and wash - the chalkboard. Foyle unrolled his shirt-cuffs to put his jacket on, then offered in a friendly tone,

"Well, I don't know about you two, but I'd like to get out of here. I'll drive you both home." He gave them a quick, small smile.

TBC...