“My door is always open to the police, Mr Volf.” Novotný’s smile was slightly wider and his handshake a little more forceful than was natural. In real life he didn’t come across as well as he did on his election posters.

A corpulent, ruddy-faced bigwig. Expensive sports jacket with a T-shirt underneath, and under the T-shirt a well-padded belly. Fashionable glasses which didn’t seem to suit his face. No doubt some stylist had told him how to dress – something to show how modern and dynamic he was.

Now he was sitting at his designer table, devoid of any features that suggested work, smiling at Tomáš with his professionally taught grin. Behind the glass door to the politician’s office, over-caffeinated marketing experts and shady operators darted about, apparently all part of the Liberals’ election staff. But it was quiet inside the office.

“How can I help you?” asked Novotný, looking at his watch.

Tomáš knew that he had to tread carefully. There were only a couple of weeks left until the early elections. If the polls were right, then Novotný would be the man Tomáš ultimately answered to. Minister of the Interior.

“Thank you for finally seeing me. Perhaps you can help me with one issue.”

“So apparently you’re here because of an old case.”

“Yes, that’s what I wrote to you in the email.” Tomáš opened his bag. He placed some yellowed papers onto the table. “I was trying to sort out the files from regional headquarters and I came across this. Pasečky, 1991.”

He looked closely at Novotný. The politician didn’t react. He appeared to be disinterested. Like a man hearing the name for the first time.

Tomáš thought about the last few weeks when he had been trying to get in touch with this man. When he called here, Novotný never answered the phone. Volf always spoke to people whose only role seemed to be to deflect all conversations away from Novotný.

Novotný never replied to his emails either. Then in one of his messages he mentioned the place Pasečky. Within a few minutes he received a reply – a negative one.

Tomáš didn’t give up. He acted properly but persistently. He kept on asking until he received an email which might be construed as an invitation.

He sent the email on to Novotný’s assistant and attached a request for a meeting. And it worked. That was two weeks ago.

“The file that I’m here about isn’t complete. And according to the records, you were the last one to look at it.”

“Really?” Novotný looked at the ceiling for a moment as though he was finally remembering something. “You could be right. But that was a good few years ago.”

“It was. You looked at it in 2009. I’d like you to fill in a few small details about this case.”

Novotný lifted his arms. “Of course, fire away. However, I can’t promise you that I’ll remember everything.”

Tomáš smiled. “I understand. Why did you ask to look at the file that time?”

Novotný stood up and went over to the cabinet. He reached behind some jackets that were hanging up and with a slightly guilty smile brought out a bottle of whisky and two glasses. When he saw Tomáš’s gesture of refusal, he put one glass back and poured out one for himself.

“After all those years, I wanted to remember. I wanted to remind myself of my first case…”

(Translated by Graeme Dibble)