"Mayhew, how long until we reach it?"
She used her open palm to support her head as she spoke, blond strings of hair dangling over her pale skin. Margret was looking from the window of their rental car, a distant small town being barely visible from the road they were driving on.
"Around thirty minutes if I had to take a guess."
Beside her, on the wheel of the car, was none other than Mayhew. The hazel-eyed detective was driving at a moderate speed while also taking turns to glance down at the detailed map he had with him.
It had been a long and tiring journey for both of them. From the port of Kołobrzeg to the city of Piła and then from there they traveled to the city of Konin, officially reaching central Poland. With a few more days of rough traveling, the detective duo managed to make good progress, and now they were heading for a very special city.
Although for most, this city wasn't very special, in fact, most would see it as pretty average. But to Margret and Mayhew, it held a different meaning, as this city they were about to reach was the last destination they would visit before going to the isolated town of Pustków—where their investigation would finally begin, and the idea of resting would become abstract and alien.
Letting out a small sigh, Margret glanced over at Mayhew with a listless expression.
"This city—what was its name again?"
The detective answered evenly while also looking at the map below.
"The city of Kamienica. Kamienica meaning 'stone.' Rather interesting, right?"
"Sure, very interesting, Mayhew. But tell me, do you know anything about this city?"
Without even answering her question, Mayhew controlled the wheel of the car with his left hand while his right reached down at his feet. Pulling out a particular paper, the detective silently handed it to Margret.
This made the blonde detective very intrigued and cured her boredom for the time being.
She opened the document and read it pretty quickly, as it was pretty short, and most of it didn't even have to do with the city they were traveling to.
Putting the white sheet of paper down, Margret looked onto the distant road with an uneasy expression.
Then, after a short pause, she spoke.
"Do you really think that secret Nazi groups are hiding in this random city?"
Mayhew took some time to ponder the question before answering in a hesitant tone.
"I honestly don't know. But it's better if we stay vigilant. Rumors don't appear from nothing after all."
After another forty minutes of driving through the snow-buried roads of southern Poland, they finally reached the city of Kamienica. Of course, before entering, they had to be checked thoroughly, just like with every other city they visited. At this point, it had become routine to them.
After they entered the city, the duo wasted no time and drove their rental car to the drop-off location that they had arranged in advance with the rental company. And soon after doing this, Margret and Mayhew found themselves walking around the city of stone—or Kamienica, as the locals would say.
The sky was ashen and deep, small particles of snow falling chaotically toward the Soviet-style buildings below—covering them and making them seem as if they were painted in a white haze. The wind blew across the streets where Mayhew and Margret walked, though fortunately enough, the wind here wasn't nearly as strong and oppressive as the winds of Kołobrzeg port. So the two detectives were managing just fine.
Mayhew looked around, his eyes being slightly closed, so as not to allow the snow particles to fall in them. All around them, the locals were going about their usual business.
A group of policemen sat on a curb eating bread, tomatoes, and cheese. They seemed to be discussing something very funny, as they all laughed and chuckled every chance they got. Above, on a balcony, a middle-aged woman removed the clothing pegs and gathered the clothes into her arms as fast as she could. On the other side of the street, Mayhew saw a shop owner selling a pack of cigarettes to a young teen, a small frown being apparent on the shopkeeper's face as he hesitantly handed it over.
Mayhew and Margret continued to walk through the light snowfall, mostly in silence, but small talk did start every now and then. Soon enough, the duo had reached their destination—a pretty well-kept hotel just a few blocks away from the road they were going to take to reach the town of Pustków. It was a pretty convenient placement for them, so Mayhew had booked it without much thought.
The two detectives entered the main lobby and quickly shook off all the snow from their luggage and clothes. Walking up to the counter, Mayhew smiled brightly as he saw the young man behind it.
The blue-eyed young man was very tall, but due to his awkward posture, he seemed a lot shorter than he actually was. When the detective approached with a wide smile painted across his face, the young man responded with a smile of his own—although his was very awkward and almost seemed forced, even though it wasn't.
Of course, this detail didn't miss the observing eye of the skilled detective—Mayhew.
'He's not very skilled socially, I see. I'll need to act very friendly with him—hopefully that will take some of the pressure off from the poor lad.'
"Hello there, young man. I have booked a room in this hotel in... I go by Mayhew Brown—I should be on the list."
The hazel-eyed detective tried his best to cover up the embarrassment that he was feeling from what had just happened.
'I just—I just forgot how to say "in advance" in Polish. Has my Polish really gotten that rotten throughout the years?'
Fortunately enough for Mayhew, the blue-eyed man had either not noticed the fact that Mayhew had cut himself off mid-sentence, or he was just too shy to mention it. Either way, the detective was happy that they could just move on from that slip-up.
After a short pause, the young man awkwardly picked up a notepad that lay on the counter and began checking its short pages for Mayhew's name.As the man was doing this, the detective took the chance to look around the lobby.
Eventually, the detective's name was found.
"Yes, I see, Mayhew Brown. Booked for one night."
The young man turned around. There on the wall was a wooden key carrier that held all the keys to all the rooms of the hotel. Grabbing a certain pair, the young man handed them over to the duo.
The key number was six. So they had landed room number six, it seemed.
Mayhew waved a hand at the young man and began to walk away, with Margret following suit—although she only mirrored the walking and not the waving.
As he waved, the detective just couldn't stop thinking to himself:
"That young man..."
His smile slightly dimmed, as he and Margret got out of the young man's view and walked up the creaking stairs of the hotel.
"Is a Nazi."