Zoo Station Read Online Free PDF

the proffered seat in her living room and gazed about him as she re-heatedfor the last of heavens know how many timesher eternal pot of coffee. Her Advent wreath was still hanging from the light fixture along with its four gutted candles. On the walnut chest of drawers two packs of cards stood beside her precious Peoples Radio. It was Tuesday, Russell realized, the day Frau Heidegger and three of her counterparts from the nearby blocks played skat.

    She came back with the coffee and a small pile of post. A postcard from Paul, a probable Christmas card from his mother in the US, a letter from his American agent, and a business letter with a Berlin postmark.

    You had two telephone messages, the concierge said, looking down through her pince-nez at a small piece of paper. Your fianceeFrau Heidegger always referred to Effi in that way, despite the fact that no prospective marriage had ever been mentionedsays she will be back extremely late on Thursday night and will meet you at the Cafe Uhlandeck at noon on Friday. Does that sound right?

    Yes.

    And a Herr Conwayyes?he would like you to call him as soon as possible.

    Ill call him after Ive had my coffee, Russell said, taking a first exploratory sip. It was burned, but so strong and sweet that you hardly noticed.

    Frau Heidegger was telling him how shed recently caught one of the tenantsthe Sudeten German on the first floor who Russell hardly knewopening a window. This was strictly forbidden when the heating was on, and the tenant had only been forgiven on the grounds that he came from the mountains and could hardly be expected to know any better. He didnt know how lucky he was, Russell thought; his own rooms on the fourth floor sometimes resembled neighboring ovens. During one warm week in December he had regularly set his alarm for 3:00 AM, when the concierge was fairly certain to be asleep and he could throw open his windows for a life-saving blast of cool air.

    He took another sip of coffee and wondered whether the war minister would be interested in developing it as a weapon. Thank you, Frau Heidegger, he said, carefully replacing the cup in its saucer and getting to his feet. I already had two cups at the station, he added in excuse.

    Its good to have you back, she said, following him to the door. She didnt close it, though. She might miss something.

    Russell walked over to the telephone at the foot of the stairs. Its installation a couple of years earlier had given Frau Heidegger cause for prideher block was leading the way on Neuenburgerstrasse. But it had soon turned into something of a mixed blessing. A popular propensity for ringing at all times of the day and night had necessitated the introduction of a curfew, and the phone was now off the hook from ten at night till eight in the morning. It could still be used for outgoing calls during that time, but heaven help anyone who forgot to take it off again.

    He unhooked the earpiece and dialed the British embassys number. Doug Conway worked in the commercial department, or so he claimed. Russell had met him at the Blau-Weiss club, where English-speaking expatriates played tennis, talked about how beastly their German hosts were, and lamented the lack of reliable domestic help. Russell hated the place, but time spent there was often good for business. As a journalist he had made a lot of useful contacts; as a part-time English tutor he had been pointed in the direction of several clients. He hoped Doug Conway had found him another.

    Im rushed off my feet today, Conway told him. But I can squeeze in an early lunch. Wertheim at 12:30?

    Fine, Russell agreed, and started up the four flights of stairs which led to his rooms. At the top he paused for breath before unlocking the door and wondered for the umpteenth time about moving to a block with a lift. His rooms were stuffy and hot, so he left the front door ajar and risked opening a window by a few millimeters.

    Stretched out on the threadbare sofa, he went through