“Felix.”
Johann’s frown deepened. But he unfastened the chain that he had installed last Tuesday morning after he had returned from Unterwald and learned of the burglary here. He opened the door wide. “Come in, come in,” he said heartily enough. “It will have to be a short visit, Felix. I was just leaving.”
“So I see.” Felix Zauner stared briefly at Johann’s loden, which was draped over one arm, and then gave his full attention to Anna. “I dropped in to see if you were all right.” He pulled off a glove, took her hand and kissed it. “You know how sorry I was that I couldn’t be here for the funeral. I had business in Vienna. Just got back an hour ago.”
“Your wife told me you were there,” Anna said. “Come and sit down. There is some heat in the stove.” Felix was pulling off his heavy coat, but in spite of its weight and the warmth of his dark-grey suit, he looked cold. Haggard, too, thought Anna. The thin bridge of his nose was prominent, his high cheekbones were clearly marked, his mouth seemed pinched. “I’ll make some coffee,” said Anna, if only to break the silence in the room, and moved over to the small electric stove beside the sink.
“I was just about to get Anna upstairs and lock her safely in,” Johann said as Felix dropped his coat and gloves and green velours hat on a chair.
“I’ll do that.” Felix smoothed down the long thin strands of reddish hair that, in spite of his hat, had been blown wild by the wind. “It was Anna I came to see.”
“She’s tired.” Johann looked at Anna uncertainly. Would she start telling Felix about the chest at Finstersee? But even as a sweat broke in the palms of his hands, he remembered that Anna had no idea of Felix’s real job or his connections. She might, however, treat Felix as a father confessor. She was in a strange mood tonight.
“I’m all right,” she called across to him. “I don’t usually go to bed as early as this. It will be good to talk to Felix.” And what a ridiculous fuss about seeing me safely upstairs. Who’s going to see me safely upstairs tomorrow night, or the next, or forever? “You’d better leave or you’ll never get to Unterwald until dawn.”
“I’ll be there before midnight.” But he couldn’t decide whether to leave or stay until Felix had safely gone. And Felix, standing over the stove, heating his spine, had noticed his hesitation. “Just one thing before I go,” he told Felix. “What help did you get in Vienna?”
“Help? Oh, you mean about the financing of my plans for a ski resort at Unterwald?” Felix was taking out his cigar case, preparing to have a pleasant half hour in a comfortable chair. “They were interested but noncommittal.”
You know damn well what I meant, thought Johann. So there would be no investigation of Dick’s murder: they were all going to play it down and call it accidental death. “Didn’t you give them good reason to take direct action?”
“Your reason?” Felix smiled, but the grey eyes studied Johann carefully. “They have their own ideas about what
should be done.” The smile faded. “Of course, my visit was very brief. It seemed a waste of time to me.”
He’s slipping, thought Johann. I know it. And he knows it. And now in Vienna—does State Security know it, too? Was that why they summoned him so damn quick yesterday morning? Felix Zauner had always seemed so infallible to him that all he could do now was stare incredulously.
Felix said airily, “The truth is, Vienna is rather removed from the situation here. It seems a little improbable to them, at the moment.”
“But if you had put in a full report—”
“Are you teaching me how to conduct my business?” Felix noticed Anna looking around at them both. He ended with an easy “There’s nothing to worry about. You’ll see a ski lift at Unterwald yet. And that will make you a lot of money, Johann. You and Trudi might very well run the inn, once August Grell leaves. He’s getting old, you know. And it looks as if his son, Anton, won’t be back in Unterwald.”
“What did I tell you—” Johann began.
“Last reports say that Anton is staying in the South Tyrol. His girl doesn’t want to leave Bozen. So they are getting married, going to run her mother’s Gasthof.”
“You believe that?”
“For the next few weeks,” Felix said smoothly, “we must all appear to believe that.”
Johann swung his cape across his shoulders and went over to Anna. He put his arms around her and hugged. “Will I see you on Sunday?”
She shook her head. “I’ll have enough to keep me busy here.” She tried to keep her voice natural. “And you’ll be most
of the time with Trudi. Tell her I will come up soon to see her. I do have to meet her and her mother, you know.” Johann said nothing at all to that. He just stared at her. Now why? she wondered, turning away in a pretence of fussing over the coffee-pot. Why had he gone tense? Why doesn’t he want me to visit Trudi?”
“Later,” he was saying. “She knows you have a lot to face right now. I’ll try to get back here by the end of next week. Franz has been looking after the shop, but I’d better pay some attention to it myself.”
“And that is a splendid idea,” Felix said. “Need I remind you that the first snow is only weeks away? It’s about time you started getting your stock of equipment in order.”
“I’ll be ready,” Johann said. He wasn’t amused. “Keep safe,” he told Anna as he moved to the door.
“And you take care of yourself, too,” Felix said. “Don’t play detective. Don’t go anywhere near the inn. Or Finstersee. Give them both a wide berth.” He drew on his cigar, got it glowing to his satisfaction, and looked up to see that he had managed to freeze Johann in his tracks. “When I left Unterwald yesterday morning, August Grell had as many as eight hunters as his guests. In fact, he seems to be expecting quite a good season this autumn; he has reopened the inn for another month at least.” He glanced at Anna and then said deliberately, “I have heard that his guests seemed keener on fishing than hunting—to begin with. But they didn’t seem to find what they were fishing for. So today, I hear, they have started beating the woods just above the picnic ground. Strange, isn’t it?”
So Felix wasn’t slipping after all, thought Johann; not altogether. “Strange,” he echoed. He refrained from looking
at Anna and asking her silently what she thought of him now. If he hadn’t moved the chest from under those boulders, Grell would have his big thick-fingered hands on it this minute. “Are you going back to Unterwald, Felix?”
“Of course. I’m determined on that ski lift.”
“Johann,” called Anna softly as he opened the door, “take care. Please.”
“I’ll take care.” Of that chest, he thought, and of Grell too. He gave Anna and Felix a very cheerful wave to match his grin. Anna’s concern had been half an apology at least. He closed the door, confidently leaving her with Felix and his questions; she’d guard Dick’s secret even more now.
“Anna,” said Felix Zauner thoughtfully, “did you understand anything I was talking about?”
She concentrated on carrying two cups of steaming coffee over to the table. “About Finstersee and the Grells?”
“About Finstersee. I assumed you and Johann have discussed the Grells pretty frankly.”
She nodded, searching now for cream and sugar.
“But about Finstersee, Anna? What did Dick tell you about it before he left here?”
“As little as possible.”
“Didn’t you wonder why he was so secretive?”
“Not secretive. Just—just protective. There is danger in that lake, isn’t there?” She sat down, pointed to the chair across the table from her.
“When Dick phoned from Grell’s inn, did he tell you he had found what he was looking for?” Felix took the offered chair. He would have a good view of her face at least. Yet that depressed him; it looked as if she felt she had nothing to hide,
as if this visit was just another waste of time. And time was running short for him. Very short.
“No.”
“Or that he hadn’t found it?”
She shook her head. Her lips trembled, and she made an effort to hold them taut.
“I’m sorry, Anna. I know how it must be painful for you to recall that morning.” He gave her a few seconds to re-establish control. She’s a brave girl, he thought, and I’m handling this too quickly, yet I haven’t the time to approach it slowly. “I’m sorry, Anna. But there was a chest or a box of some kind hidden in Finstersee—”
She looked up at him, eyes startled and wide.
“I heard that in Vienna,” he tried. He would at least see if Johann had been gossiping about his real job.
But his remark had no special meaning for her. “They are talking about it in Vienna? It’s a piece of common gossip?” She was horrified.
“Not exactly.” It had been gravely discussed in a quiet room by three men, two of them with considerable authority and calm impartial faces listening to his explanations, his excuse; his defence, actually. Yet they had believed him, or he would have been asked to resign on the spot. Damn those big-mouthed Americans, what did they expect to achieve from passing on to Austrian Security their piece of information about Finstersee? A pooling of knowledge, such as it was, and a sharing of results? Probably. And they could operate more freely here with Vienna’s participation. Clever of the Americans, of the British, too. (There seemed to be some link-up between them.) They weren’t always so circumspect. But why had they not contacted
him here in Salzburg and at least given him warning of their interest. Why had they gone over his head to the top? So he had been summoned to Vienna, totally unprepared. All he could do was listen, agree to tolerate American-British interest. He had made a tactful protest, of course, a suggestion that such co-operation was hardly neutral behaviour. He had been told firmly that the first objective was to discover the Finstersee box; the second was to examine its contents, and after that, neutrality would be observed. “Not exactly,” he repeated, easing his voice. “I heard some inside information. It’s always very intriguing.”
“And dangerous,” she said, eyeing him in dismay. “Felix, you shouldn’t talk about it. You must be careful—”
“I am,” he told her gently. He studied her troubled face. Now was the moment to ask his last question. “Where is that box hidden, Anna?”
Her face went blank. “But I don’t know.” Her words had come slowly, but they rang true.
“The truth, Anna!”
She stared at him in wonder. For a brief instant she had seen naked fear in his eyes. “It is the truth. I don’t know where the box is hidden.”
He kept looking at her. He had barely touched his coffee. His cigar was forgotten.
She hesitated. “Why don’t you ask Johann? He is always so full of bright ideas and explanations.”
Johann? Dick Bryant had never confided fully in Johann. “He has plenty of ideas,” Felix Zauner said, covering his disappointment, changing the subject neatly, “but whether they are good ones or not—that’s another matter. Did he tell you
he confronted August Grell in the inn? That was last Monday night. He practically challenged Grell that his story about young Anton wasn’t true.”
“Oh, no!”
“I arrived in time fortunately, kept him from calling Grell a damned liar. I think I managed to smooth Grell down over a long dinner.”
“You mean to say Johann actually ate dinner with that man?” This seemed to shock her even more than Johann’s indiscretion.
“No, no. I had given Johann his exit cue. Luckily, he had just enough sense left to take it. He went off to have supper with his devoted Trudi.”
Did he? Anna began to wonder. “I worry about Johann. Perhaps he—”
“You needn’t. He has chosen a good girl to marry. She has a lot of practical common sense. Apart from Johann, of course.” He rose briskly. “I hope I didn’t stay too long. You look tired.”
“No.” She refrained from looking at the untouched coffee, at the dead cigar in his hand. They had been little social pretences to cover his main reason for coming here. Was the Finstersee box so important to him? But why? He hadn’t spoken of it the way Dick had talked about it, but surely she could trust him. Should she drop another hint about Johann to Felix? They were good friends. Yet, she remembered uneasily, Johann had had the chance tonight to tell Felix. “I’m not really so tired. Just puzzled. What
are
you, Felix?”
He laughed, dropping his cigar into his saucer, picking up his coat and hat. “A very weary businessman who had a disappointing visit to Vienna. We all want quick success, I suppose. I’ll get the financial backing I need eventually. Once
these wild rumours about Finstersee die down, I’ll be able to interest people in Unterwald as a nice quiet ski resort. Does that explain why I asked you the questions about Finstersee? My interest is simply to have that box found, August Grell removed, and then—well, an abnormal situation will be ended. Businessmen like everything very normal.”
Why, she thought as he avoided her eyes, he isn’t even coming over to say good-bye.
“One more thing,” he said as he reached the door. “Did Dick take many photographs of Finstersee?”
“He always took fifty or sixty shots of every subject he photographed.”
“Surely he didn’t destroy those he discarded?”
“He kept the three best. Then he would decide which of the three was the one he wanted and concentrate on it.”
“So he had two other negatives and sets of prints?” he asked casually, trying to disguise his impatience, his growing excitement.
“Yes. But the thief took them all. She knew just what to look for, and where.”
“Are you sure it was a woman?” he asked vaguely. The last flame of hope had flickered and died. Now he was left only with anger. So Elisabetha Lang had taken everything; she had exceeded her mission, no mistake about that. He had instructed her simply to borrow the envelope with the Yates-Bryant correspondence, one envelope in the desk drawer, but she had looted everything about Finstersee. He hadn’t even guessed she would know the significance of what he had told her to do; just another small job, trickier than most he had given her but easy enough. She knew the layout of this ground
floor; she had had a clear field—or she would have had if Anna hadn’t returned so unexpectedly, if she herself had not spent that extra time here. And now Lang was in Zürich, with every shred of evidence, not only of Bryant’s interest in Finstersee but also of his strange connection with the man Yates. And I, thought Zauner savagely, am left with nothing. But at least I’m rid of her; at least I no longer have her as a threat at my back. Others of her breed will come, but I know now to entrust them with nothing; give them as little help as possible, keep them ignorant, agree to what they want and do the opposite. I may outwit them yet, but I’ll have to be sharper than I was about Elisabetha Lang. Strange that in Vienna today they had called her Elissa. Where did they get that name? And was there some significance—or none—in the fact that they did not inquire too deeply into her employment in Salzburg? “Why are you doing that?” he asked Anna, becoming aware that she was back at the stove again, dropping more briquettes into its tiled belly. “I’m supposed to be taking you safely upstairs.