A Death in Vienna Read Online Free PDF Page A

that because of our regrettable history there, I’m something of a pariah. He reckoned the Staatspolizei would be more forthcoming if we were represented by a less polarizing figure.”
    “So your solution is to send me ?”
    “Not in any official capacity, of course.” These days Shamron did almost nothing in an official capacity. “But I would feel much more comfortable if someone I trusted was keeping an eye on things.”
    “We have Office personnel in Vienna.”
    “Yes, but they report to Lev.”
    “He is the chief.”
    Shamron closed his eyes, as if he were being reminded of a painful subject. “Lev has too many other problems at the moment to give this the attention it deserves. The boy emperor in Damascus is making troublesome noises. The mullahs of Iran are trying to build Allah’s bomb, and Hamas is turning children into bombs and detonating them on the streets of Tel Aviv and Jerusalem. One minor bombing in Vienna is not going to get the attention it deserves, even though the target was Eli Lavon.”
    Shamron stared compassionately at Gabriel over the rim of his coffee cup. “I know you have no desire to go back to Vienna, especially after another bombing, but your friend is lying in a Viennese hospital fighting for his life! I would think you’d like to know who put him there.”
    Gabriel thought of the half-completed Bellini altarpiece in the church of San Giovanni Crisostomo and could feel it slipping away from him. Chiara had turned away from Shamron and was eyeing him intently. Gabriel avoided her gaze.
    “If I went to Vienna,” he said quietly, “I would need an identity.”
    Shamron shrugged, as if to say there were ways— obvious ways, dear boy —of getting around a small problem such as cover. Gabriel had expected this would be Shamron’s response. He held out his hand.
    Shamron opened his briefcase and handed over a manila envelope. Gabriel lifted the flap and poured the contents on the coffee table: airline tickets, a leather billfold, a well-traveled Israeli passport. He opened the cover of the passport and saw his own face staring back at him. His new name was Gideon Argov. He’d always liked the name Gideon.
    “What does Gideon do for a living?”
    Shamron inclined his head toward the billfold. Among the usual items—credit cards, a driver’s license, a health-club and video-club membership—he found a business card:
     
    GIDEON ARGOV
    WARTIME CLAIMS AND INQUIRIES
    17 MENDELE STREET
    JERUSALEM 92147
    5427618
     
    Gabriel looked up at Shamron. “I didn’t know Eli had an office in Jerusalem.”
    “He does now. Try the number.”
    Gabriel shook his head. “I believe you. Does Lev know about this?”
    “Not yet, but I plan on telling him once you’re safely on the ground in Vienna.”
    “So we’re deceiving the Austrians and the Office. That’s impressive, even for you, Ari.”
    Shamron gave a sheepish smile. Gabriel opened the airline jacket and examined his travel itinerary.
    “I don’t think it would be a good idea for you to travel directly to Vienna from here. I’ll accompany you back to Tel Aviv in the morning—separate seats, of course. You’ll turn around and catch the afternoon flight into Vienna.”
    Gabriel lifted his gaze and stared at Shamron, his expression dubious. “And if I’m recognized at the airport and dragged into a room for some special Austrian attention?”
    “That’s always a possibility, but it has been thirteen years. Besides, you’ve been to Vienna recently. I recall a meeting we had in Eli’s office last year concerning an imminent threat to the life of His Holiness Pope Paul the Seventh.”
    “I have been back to Vienna,” Gabriel conceded, holding up the false passport. “But never like this, and never through the airport.”
    Gabriel spent a long moment appraising the false passport with his restorer’s eye. Finally he closed the cover and slipped it into his pocket. Chiara stood and walked out of the room. Shamron watched her