Gilded Nightmare Read Online Free PDF

personal agony erased from his face, you might have a picture of his brother, Bruno Wald. The Wald brothers were identical twins at birth. But they became easily identifiable as they grew to manhood. Bruno was bold, dashing, high-spirited; Stephen was dark, brooding, almost satanic. Well, ten years ago Bruno found himself the recipient of an invitation to Zetterstrom Island. He accepted with delight. He was flown from Athens to the Island in Zetterstrom’s private plane. A week or so later Stephen received a telephone call from Marcus Helwig, the Zetterstroms’ steward, or manager, or whatever he calls himself. He was sorry to report that Bruno Wald had been lost at sea in a yachting accident. He had drowned. His body had not been recovered.
    “There was a three-day excitement in the German press. Bruno was, after all, a popular matinee idol. There was also an opportunity for much gossip about the notorious Zetterstroms. But the Greek authorities who investigated as a routine matter found no reason to doubt the story. There had been a storm at sea—I suspect a small hurricane. Several fishing boats had been lost on the same day.
    “I should say here that Stephen had no reason to doubt the story either. He attended a memorial service for his brother in West Berlin and then he came to the United States. He’s an electronics engineer and he had been offered a very good job with a firm here in New York. Whenever he was introduced as Stephen Wald he was suddenly recognized as a sort of double of his late brother. To avoid the endless talk and gossip about Bruno he changed his name to Wood.
    “The tragedy of Bruno Wald’s death was long forgotten by the public. Stephen, I think, despite the close tie with a twin, had managed to throw it off and involve himself totally in a new life. Then one evening, ten years after Bruno’s death, Stephen came home to find the wreckage of what had once been Bruno, waiting for him on his doorstep. Bruno was very much not dead.”
    “You’re going a little fast for me,” Chambrun said. “Bruno was not dead. Why hadn’t he communicated with Stephen?”
    “That is the nub of the story,” Sam said. He looked at his pipe, which had gone out. He hesitated and then put it down, regretfully, on his desk. “It was almost simply instinct that made Bruno recognizable to Stephen. He was skin and bones. His face was lined, the color of ashes. He wore old, stained clothes that looked as though they’d come out of a rummage sale. Bruno had always been a great dandy. When Stephen spoke to him, recognized him, Bruno burst into tears, like a frightened child. He needed Stephen’s help to struggle down the inner hall to Stephen’s apartment. Inside, he collapsed on a sofa, weeping.
    “You can imagine the questions that poured out of Stephen. What in God’s name had happened to him? Why hadn’t he been in touch? The answers finally came choking out of Bruno. There had been no yachting accident. He had arrived at Zetterstrom Island that day ten years ago for his long weekend visit. He didn’t take time to describe the old Baron’s Shangri-La, but his shaken voice implied that everything about it was now loathsome to him. He had been there only a few hours when the beautiful and glamorous Charmian made it quite clear to him that she was his for the asking. Bruno had, quite frankly, gone there anticipating some sort of exotic experience. Charmian, evidently, was to be it.
    “Bruno was incapable of describing to his brother that experience as it must have been. But making love to Charmian had evidently surpassed anything he had ever thought of in erotic imaginings. There were no other guests on the Island that weekend. For three or four days Bruno was totally involved with the lady. He was young in those days and he could satisfy all her requirements. But presently, despite the wild excitement of this love affair, carried on quite openly under the eyes of the old Baron and the elaborate staff of