Walking through the grassy field, the hazel-eyed detective walked over to the group of men he had seen prior to being interrupted by the little girl. The closer he got, the more he was able to discern.
The hand movement that he had noticed earlier, it had seemed so calculated and well thought out. Well, now it totally made sense, because Mayhew could clearly see chess pieces being shoved around the tables in a frenzy.
'I see the chess pieces, but where are the boards?'
From the angle in which he was arriving, the detective couldn't see any chess boards; the men just appeared to be moving the pieces around the table.
"Hello everyone. Hope I'm not interrupting any important matches here."
The group of men, which was primarily made up of elders that appeared to be around the range of 60 to 80 years old, quickly shifted their attention to Mayhew.
Thankfully enough, the men did not seem angry or upset. They actually looked quite relaxed and almost friendly.
Seeing this, Mayhew did not restrain himself from smiling.
One of the old heads spoke out to the detective in a creaky voice.
"No young man, you did not interrupt anything important. It's just me winning over and over again as I have done for the last 10 years with these amateurs."
The old men around him chuckled, and one of them slapped him on the back.
"Don't get too arrogant, old friend. That's how you lost your first match, remember?"
Seeing the entire group laugh, Mayhew couldn't help but chuckle despite not being in on the inside joke.
Another old man, this one a bit younger, spoke. His voice being slightly less creaky than the first guy.
"You don't seem to be from around here, young man. Where are you from?"
Mayhew responded with a smile.
"I'm from Britain, sir."
Hearing his country of origin, the group of men became slightly less jolly, and looked more reserved.
This didn't surprise Mayhew, considering the relations between western and eastern Europe. And not to mention what happened the last time a westerner visited this town.
Scratching the back of his head, Mayhew spoke in a respectful tone.
"Well, I see that you are playing chess. That game is also very popular in Britain and I myself like to play from time to time. Would you mind if I joined in for a match?"
One of the old men responded in a slightly cold tone.
"We already each have our opponents, sorry."
Being denied so quickly did not make Mayhew's smile waver one bit. This made the group of old heads slightly surprised.
"Well that's okay, I'll come back another time. Don't forget to save me a spot, okay?"
As he began to walk away, Mayhew did not hesitate to take a quick glance at the tables that the old chess players were playing on.
'So that's how they do it. Very creative.'
Drawn on each table with crayon was the pattern of squares found on a chessboard. Numbers and letters, and everything else someone would need to play chess.
After walking a sizable distance away from the group of old men that had rejected him so casually, Mayhew found himself wandering the park with no clear goal in mind.
Looking up, he could see that the sky was on the brink of darkness. His time was officially up.
'No luck for today, I guess. I need to go meet up with Margret now, she's probably starting to get pretty angry waiting for me.'
Mayhew sat on a patch of grass that was not covered in snow and closed his eyes. A small smile slowly formed on his face as he felt the breeze brush against his body.
'Even the cold feels nice sometimes.'
Opening his eyes, the detective gazed at the sky.
'Once the stars appear it will be beautiful no doubt. What a shame that I won't be here to look at it.'
Slowly, the detective moved his hazel eyes to his left and then he slowly dragged them toward his right.
'Nothing. Must be behind me then.'
What a fantastic night it will be. With so many stars and a full moon and—
'Someone is watching me.'
....
The dread that he had felt when he first walked into the park, it had been stagnant throughout his walk—always at the back of his mind but not truly a real concern. But now it was a completely different story.
As soon as he had sat down, the feeling that he was being watched by someone had gripped his heart. It was so intense that Mayhew had to make comments about the sky to keep himself composed.
It wasn't even a question to him, it was a certainty:
Someone was watching him.
Acting calm and collected, Mayhew stretched his arms out and slowly lifted himself up.
Hesitating for just a moment, the hazel-eyed detective looked behind himself and saw...
Nothing.
'Of course.'
The detective now had a choice to make. He could either ignore the weird and intense feeling he just had a second ago and go back to meet up with Margret or he could try and investigate.
'I'm alone, and night time has pretty much already come. Margret is also still waiting for me, she's probably going to get worried if I spend another few hours chasing someone that could just be my own imagination. We have multiple months to figure this case out, risking everything now would just be stupid.'
With that, Mayhew very reluctantly began to walk away from the grassy field and back into the streets of Pustków town.
When he walked, he made sure to not glance behind himself to see if the feeling of dread would return again.
But...it didn't.
And that somehow made Mayhew feel a lot more uneasy about the whole situation.
'This whole area is very creepy. No wonder I'm feeling so paranoid.'
As the brown-haired detective walked through an unfamiliar street, he saw something in the distance that caught his interest.
'A church. And I can see light inside it as well.'
In no other part of Poland would a church have surprised Mayhew. Christianity was the number one religion in the country after all.
But seeing it in this...decrepit...run down...morbid and creepy town made the detective feel a certain type of way.
It was like the light in the darkness. The last shred of hope that existed in this gloomy town.
'I'm not religious, but it wouldn't hurt giving a quick prayer, right?'
He hoped that a priest or a nun was inside. Mayhew wanted them to see that the church was still being used and that people still held hope in their hearts.
Though he did feel a little disingenuous doing this, since he wasn't actually a believer.
Walking up to the wooden doors that were already opened as if they had expected him, the hazel-eyed detective walked inside.
Rows of seats filled up each of the sides and in front of him was a long and narrow space between the seats that led up to the altar. All over the place there were candles, some on fire and some sitting in darkness—a few already melted to their base.
Walking forward at a steady pace, Mayhew glanced up at the giant pictures above the podium. They were depictions of the Christian God.
A man with long brown hair, blue eyes—wearing a long white robe. That one sparked a warm feeling in the detective for some unknown reason.
The other one though made him feel something else. It depicted the same person, although now he had three faces instead of one.
Not knowing a lot about the Christian faith, Mayhew felt slightly uneasy at the image.
Stopping just a few meters away from the altar, Mayhew slowly got on his knees and closed his eyes.
Even though there was no nun or priest to watch him, Mayhew felt that it would be disrespectful to leave now that he had already walked up to the altar.
And strangely enough, praying like this despite not believing in God made Mayhew feel less uneasy about everything that had happened earlier.
Clapping his hands together tightly, the detective suddenly realised that he did not really know how to pray properly.
'Well, this is a little embarrassing.'
Smirking to himself for just a moment, Mayhew then lowered his head down to his hands and began praying.
Being the person that he was, Mayhew did not pray for himself or a loved one. He instead took an approach much larger in scale and prayed for humanity as a whole—even for the wicked.
After he was finished, the detective brought his head back up and opened his eyes.
'That felt...really nice.'
Out of all the places that Mayhew had been in this town, this church was the only one that made him feel safe.
'Maybe I'll visit this place more than just this one time.'
....
"I hope you're praying for what is truly important."
Quickly standing up, the hazel-eyed detective turned around to see the person that had called out to him.
'So there is a priest here.'
The man seemed to be in his late fifties. He wore a long white robe and held a candle in his left hand.
"Father, I am sorry for coming to pray at such an odd hour."
The old man chuckled as he made his way to where Mayhew stood.
"Very formal are you, son? Don't worry about what hour it is, praying is always good no matter the time. God listens at every hour and his hand is always there, ready to pull you out of trouble."
Mayhew smiled.
"I suppose you're right."
Standing in front of the detective, the priest looked at the detective with interest.
"You don't appear to be from here, and yet you speak Polish as if it is your native language. Are you here to visit a relative perhaps?"
Mayhew shook his head.
"No–no, that's not the case. I more so came here to fulfill a promise I made to someone."
The priest chuckled and began walking away from the detective and toward the stairs that led up to the altar.
"Well young man, I pray that you fulfill whatever promise you made. As long as God is with you, it should be no problem."
Hearing this, a guilty expression formed on Mayhew's face.
"Sorry but I have to say that I'm not actually a believer, father. I just came here to check the place out."
To the detective's surprise, the priest did not show much of a reaction to what he said.
Maintaining a natural expression, the old priest spoke in a gentle tone.
"My name is Robert. You can call me that instead of father now."
Slowly but surely, Mayhew's guilty expression turned to one of contentment and warmth.
"Well Robert, it's getting late and I have someone who is waiting for me. I need to go but be sure that I'll come back to visit."
The priest responded with a simple nod and began going down to his knees to give his own prayers.
Walking back to the entrance, the detective made sure to not make any noise that could disturb the priest.
Just as Mayhew was about to walk out, he was suddenly stopped by the voice of the priest again.
"Young man."
Mayhew turned around with a question mark on his face.
'Were my steps too loud?'
Robert took a pause as he looked at the detective. And then he said:
"I know that you do not believe but...if you're ever feeling like you're drowning and that you have no one to help you...just know that God's hand is always there. Okay?"
Taking a moment to gaze at the priest, the detective then smiled warmly.
"Yeah, I understand. If I ever need help I'll be sure to visit."
And with that, the brown-haired detective left to meet back up with his partner. And Priest Robert continued his prayers in the peace and quiet of night.