Return to Vienna Read Online Free PDF

German slow and simple for my foreign ears. “Frau Varley, welcome to the Mahlerhof. I trust you had a pleasant flight.”
    “Danke, ja” I murmured, and immediately wondered how he was so certain that I’d arrived by air. Then I noticed the porter hovering with my luggage, which bore the tale-telling airline labels.
    I was beginning to suspect everybody now, I thought guiltily. But wasn’t that exactly what Richard had warned me to do?
     

Chapter 4
     
    My room on the second floor was as anonymous in its way as my bedsitter back in London. The furniture looked like standard issue—bed, wardrobe, two chairs…. It was easy to imagine the thirty or so other rooms in the hotel all as nearly as possible identical.
    But the Mahlerhof was clean and comfortable, selected for me by Richard Wilson to fit in with the image I had to create for myself.
    As soon as the porter had gone and I was alone, I went across to the window, which overlooked the street. Peering down at a sharp angle, I confirmed that the gray Volkswagen was still there, drawn up at the curb.
    I lingered, staring out with blind eyes. I was trying to see ahead, but my future was blurred and without shape. I shrugged, an entirely self-conscious movement of the shoulders, and drew back from the window. It was too late for me to pull out now! For the time being I would carry on as if unaware of the man on my tail, and when Richard contacted me I’d ask him about it.
    Steve had taken it for granted we’d be dining together, arranging to pick me up at eight o’clock. It was six-fifteen now. There was time to make one or two phone calls before he arrived.
    Pick up the old threads—that had been Richard’s primary instruction. I was to meet and mingle with the crowd I had known before. He’d warned me to be prepared for surprises. The lines of communication I was here to rebuild might well involve people I already knew. I found it hard to believe that anyone Max and I had mixed with could be concerned in getting information through the Iron Curtain. Although they were a sophisticated bunch, they seemed so open and friendly and uncomplicated. Like Max himself .…
    Such thoughts were morbid. Switching on the bedside light to make the room seem cozier, I threw myself into the job of settling in. It didn’t take long to unpack and put away my clothes. Then I slipped out of my green jersey suit while I debated what to wear for the evening.
    Crossing the room to the wardrobe, I caught a flash of movement from the building across the way—a drab-looking office building. I realized suddenly that I must be on view from there, and I was wearing only bra and panties, I went swiftly to the bedside light and switched it off. Pulling on my robe, I studied the windows across the narrow street. The building seemed to be deserted, until I spotted a man’s figure, which quickly moved back out of sight. Probably it was just a late office worker having a peek at a near-naked girl; and if that was all, then I’d merely make sure he didn’t get another chance. But I wondered, uneasily, if I was being watched for a more sinister reason. And if, as seemed likely, the man down in the gray car was one of Richard’s men, then who might this one be?
    I drew the curtains across the window and put the light on again.
    I finally decided to wear a sheath of dusky pink crepe, thinking that the shade would help give color to my face. The dress wasn’t as loose on me as I’d feared, so perhaps Steve was right about getting my figure back. But I still looked much too haggard. I gave my hair a good brushing and teased the fringe into a softening sweep across the forehead. I put in some careful work on my eyes, trying to mask the dull listlessness of these past weeks. More or less satisfied, I picked up my coat and handbag and made my way downstairs.
    The phone was in an alcove off the main lobby, a rather quaint glass-sided booth. I shut the door behind me and set about the job of renewing