The Salzburg Connection Read Online Free PDF

that either the alert was over or there was more to come. And that was what the message told him: Stand by for second weather report. Utmost importance. “Second weather report” meant another hour of waiting. I here must have been additional information to add to the message, and it was being evaluated or checked. He destroyed the top flimsy of the cipher pad, so small it was less in size than a book of matches. The next little page was ready for the next transmission, when a new series of false numerals, scattered through the body of the message, would have to be eliminated before he could start transcribing the columns of digits into letters and words.
    Utmost importance. Then something was stirring. He called Anton, and got no answer. He called again in five minutes. No answer. Worry now smothering his anger, he waited five more minutes. This time, Anton answered. Grell was so relieved that he forgot to lash out with a few well-chosen curses.
    Anton was cheerful if somewhat breathless. “I took a quick scramble down to the lake.”
    “You’re a damned fool—”
    “But I’m blind up here. The mist is draped over me like a white curtain.”
    “How is the lake?”
    “Clear of mist so far, but the light is still poor.”
    “So you had a perfect view of nothing.” Grell’s voice was heavy with sarcasm.
    “I took binoculars with me. There was nothing.” (Richard Bryant, at that moment checking over his gear, would have been delighted.)
    “Don’t leave your post again! I had to call you three times. And don’t contact me around six-thirty. I want no interruption then.”
    “There has been a delay?”
    “Yes.”
    “That might mean something.” Anton was excited.
    And I hope it doesn’t, thought Grell. He would prefer no trouble around Finstersee. He didn’t want Austrian Security to be attracted to his domain. If there was trouble, it would have to be handled with caution and skill and maximum concealment. “It might,” he agreed with little enthusiasm. “Stay at your post!”
    “Yes, sir.”
    There were no more delays on the six-thirty transmission from control. The message was lengthy and explicit. Control seemed to be giving Grell as much information as possible, as if they did not want him acting blindly should an emergency develop. Yet they were as careful and cautious as his strongsense of security could wish. They had even used code names for places and days of the week, so that he had two jobs to do: first, decode the message; second, further decode the names in the text. Then, with all the information fixed in his mind, he burned the evidence, replaced his equipment, locked the desk and bedroom door. He took the coffee cup through to the kitchen, made sure the lights were off, picked up his loden cape from where it had been drying near the stove, before he left the inn by its back entrance and stepped into the wood.
    The mist lay heavily over the tops of the trees, and the open spaces were filled with it. He cut across the trail, saw nothing but thick white cloud where the picnic ground should have been, and made his way through the trees on the southern side of the lake towards Anton’s lookout. As he plodded up through the forest at the steady pace of an expert climber, he reviewed in his mind the information he had decoded. (Some aspects of it puzzled him in spite of its clarity. He would think about them later.)
    The message he had received could be divided into seven parts.
    One: A report, mentioning Finstersee, had been intercepted last Wednesday when it was being transmitted to Warsaw by an Intelligence agent stationed in Zürich. It dealt with the documents that had been sunk in certain Austrian and Bohemian lakes. The Zürich agent stated he had excellent reason to believe that Finstersee should be added to the list of Austrian lakes.
    Two: Another report from Zürich to Warsaw had been intercepted yesterday (Sunday). It had been transmitted by the same agent, who now had reason to