Page 87 - LEIBY

Chapter 10 87

The best defense is, of course, attack, and Leiby confidently
shot straight back. “Who are you? Show me your papers first!”

The man fumbled in his pocket for a moment, then pulled out
his ID, the bold red hallmark of the NKVD clearly stamped on
the top of the card. But that short moment of distraction was
enough for Leiby. In one slight motion he dropped his satchel
straight into the drainage pit.

“Now, where are your papers?” The man asked smugly.

Leiby shrugged. “I don’t have any papers here; I’m just going
on a walk…”

“Come with me,” the man ordered. “And don’t dare to even
think of running away.”

The artist appeared suddenly from out of nowhere and stood
on Leiby’s right hand side, and so, flanked by two secret agents,
Leiby was taken to a dark car parked at the end of the street.

“What do you want from me?” Leiby asked innocently.

No answer was forthcoming. They entered the car, and after
a short ride, Leiby found himself at the entrance to the local
jailhouse. He was unceremoniously shoved into a small, dim
cell, with an overpowering stench. Three beds stood against the
wall, and twenty prisoners sat on the floor. The door slammed
closed.

“Who are you?”The prisoners surrounded Leiby in a tight knot.
“What are you doing here?”

Leiby surveyed his fellow inmates. There was one priest, two
Polish militants who he presumed to be A.K. policemen, several
skinheads, and a few more characters of unclear affiliation.
“There’s been some mistake,” he mumbled.

The bored prisoners broke out into raucous laughter, slapping
each other on the back and obviously enjoying the joke. “We’re
all here by mistake,” one of the Polish military men guffawed.

Leiby sat down in the corner of the room and leaned on the
wall, his back to the other inmates. He was bewildered by the