Pink Snow

by Edna Dawes

  A very slight nod acknowledged her apology, but as he made no attempt to break into the silence she continued, “I seem to have got off on the wrong foot completely where you are concerned. Maria told me you are also a writer – but not of fairy tales, I take it.”

  A smile twitched his lips at that. “No. They are very dull instructional books. One has not to be extremely clever for those.”

  “Oh, please don’t remind me of my own words. I feel badly enough as it is.”

  He leant forward with his arms along his knees. “So, we shall talk of more important things. You remember now everything about the accident on Saturday?”

  “Yes. As soon as we entered that bend it was as if I had gone back four days in time, and I saw him run out.”

  “The man?” asked Anton.

  She nodded. “I didn’t hit him, you know. Just as I was going round by that wall of rock a figure ran out right in front of me. I swerved into the trees, but I saw him check his flight just before I turned across the road. I couldn’t have run him down because I was moving away from him.” She frowned. “He must have seen me crash. Why didn’t he come to my aid?”

  “Let us leave that for the minute and concentrate on the man whose body lies in the mortuary at Innsbruck.”

  She jumped on that. “So there really is a body?”

  “Did you doubt it? You were asked to identify a photograph, were you not?” The surprise on his face was genuine.

  “What proof had I that the photograph had not been taken weeks ago?”

  “But it was shown to you by Inspector Schultz.”

  “How did I know he was an Inspector? It was only when I demanded to see his identification card this morning that I could be sure.”

  “Meine Arme!” he said softly. “What have you been thinking these last days?”

  “How do you know about the body?” she demanded.

  “Franz told me. There cannot be a funeral until his identity has been found, so the body is kept in ice for a while.”

  She shivered. “How horrible! Do you hear all the details of crimes from your brother-in-law?”

  He smiled faintly. “Not all of them. In Mosskirch we rarely have any worse criminals than those who are fishing for trout without a licence. It is not often that we have a road accident victim – except that we know this man was not.”

  “You believe me, then?”

  “I suspected it before you told me. I know Kapellerpass well – I have lived in Mosskirch all my life – and it seemed unlikely that you would have been driving fast enough to injure a person so badly. I take that particular bend very carefully even though I am familiar with it; a stranger – and a girl – would slow down to fifteen kilometers, at least. Then, after your experience yesterday, I began to wonder why anyone should want to kill you, and there is only one answer. What you have just told me makes me more certain.”

  The effect of the schnapps and the warmth of the room was fuddling her brain so that she couldn’t imagine what he was inferring.

  “Sorry. I’ve grown so sleepy I find it difficult to follow your reasoning. Do you mean that another car behind me killed the man?”

  “No, that is not what I mean.” He ran a hand across his hair and clutched the back of his head as he explained this theory to her. “You tell me you did not hit the figure which ran in front of you. Therefore, somebody else killed the man who lies in Innsbruck.”

  Her eyes widened. “Are you suggesting that he was killed deliberately – murdered?”

  “It is possible, yes. Suppose there were two men on Kapellerpass when you drove past on Saturday. Does that not suggest something to you now?”

  “Yes. That one of them murdered the other. I still don’t see why I should be involved in it.”

  “Then I shall explain. Since you did not cause the death of this man, there must have been two people at the spot where you crashed. The man who died – and his killer. Yes?” He raised his eyebrows at her and she nodded. “So – which man did you see?”

  What he was suggesting leapt at her now! That figure emerging from the rocks was the killer.

  “But I didn’t see him,” she cried. “It all happened so quickly he simply appeared as a blur. I couldn’t possibly identify him.”

  “He cannot be sure of that,” Anton told her quietly, “and will not take the risk of letting you remember.”

  “So he is prepared to kill me too.” She looked at him fearfully. “How horrible! What does it all mean?”

  He smiled and stood up. “It is not the right time to discuss it. You are nearly falling asleep, and much as I would like to offer you hospitality I think it would be better for you to return to your own room.” He held out his hands and pulled her to her feet. Standing so close to him she had an absurd desire to sink against that soft blue sweater once again and feel the comfort of his arms around her.

  “Come,” he said taking her arm, “I will see you safely back.”

  They went through the gardens again and he left her at the foot of the staircase in the Gasthaus. “This is the second day I have done this,” he mused, his light eyes shining in the dimness of the hall. “For such a slender young girl you are very good at coping with unpleasant things. I must compliment you.”

  Kathryn could scarcely believe her ears. Mrs. Davis had told her for so long that she was hopeless at running her own life, it seemed impossible that this man could think otherwise.

  He went on, “I think you should now tell as many people as possible that you have remembered the accident and cannot tell who the man was that you saw. That should make you safe from further attacks . . . but we shall decide what is the best thing to do when you have rested.”

  She smiled sleepily. “I can’t think why you are doing all this for someone you hardly know, Herr Reiter.”

  “I am called Anton,” he informed her when she was halfway up the stairs, then went through to the kitchen to have a word with Frau Petz.

  Drooping with exhaustion, Kathryn was hardly aware of flopping on to the bed and drawing up the quilt. She went out like a light until a loud knocking on her door brought her from sleep with a start.

  “Come in,” she murmured absently.

  Bright light from the corridor outside blinded her as Robert opened the door. He looked at the figure lying on the bed and started forward in alarm.

  “Kathryn, are you feeling ill! What is wrong?”

  She had never been able to wake in an instant and now she screwed up her eyes against the harsh light and begged him to close the door while she switched on her bedside lamp. Still bemused, she sat up and pushed her hair back with a sluggish hand.

  “I fell asleep,” she slurred. “Whatever time is it?”

  “Eight o’clock. I have been waiting downstairs for you to come for dinner. The dance starts at nine, but of course, if you are not feeling well we’ll skip it.”

  “The dance?” She frowned. “Oh lord, the trout dance! I’d forgotten all about it. I’m so sorry. Naturally I’ll come, but you’ll have to give me time to get ready.”

  “Now look,” he said sitting on the edge of the bed and regarding her shrewdly, “a healthy young girl like you doesn’t go off to sleep in the middle of the day unless there is something wrong. And the girl I was with last night wouldn’t break a date simply because she wanted an early night.” He pulled her towards him and kissed her gently. “Hadn’t you better tell me about it before we decide about the dance.”

  So they sat side by side on the bed while she recounted the whole story, starting from the mystery of her repaired car through the attempt to drown her at the trout farm and on to her recollection of the accident on Kapellerpass.

  “You have no idea what a relief it is to know the truth, Robert. It’s a nightmare thinking you have killed a person without having any recollection of having done it,” she concluded.

  Although he had sat quietly through her long account, it was not because he was unmoved by it. As soon as she stopped speaking he turn
ed on her angrily.

  “You spent the whole evening with me yesterday and didn’t mention a word about an attack. I would never have left you here alone today had I known. Surely, I was the obvious person to turn to; your own countryman amongst so many foreigners! Kathryn, how could you have kept me in ignorance!” He got up and paced the room. “You are in danger and must leave here at once. I’ll phone the British Consul in Innsbruck and arrange for you to be escorted home. Meanwhile, we must get a police guard put on the Gasthaus immediately.

  “Please, please, Robert, you sound just like my mother,” she wailed. “I don’t want a great fuss made of this. To do what you suggest would turn it into an international incident before we could stop it. There would be reporters with flashlamps, and headlines in the newspapers. I couldn’t bear that! I want to keep it as quiet as possible. Please. I had no idea you would be so upset or I would have told you. It was just that Anton Reiter warned me not to tell anyone.”

  “Yes, that’s another thing,” he said bitterly. “What possessed you to go to him, of all people?”

  “What do you mean . . . of all people?”

  “As soon as I heard his name I realized who he is. Didn’t you know that your friend was once the golden boy of international skiing until he gave it up following an accident which killed a fellow skier? There was a big hullabaloo at the time because it was never clear why Reiter was on the ski-run at that particular moment. The official report called it an accident, but since Reiter packed the sport in, it was taken as a sign of his guilt in some circles. Hardly the responsible type, would you say? I’d advise you to avoid any further dealings with him.”

  Kathryn was beginning to resent the way he was taking command of her actions, so she stood up and faced him.

  “His past makes no difference to the fact that I wanted to hire a car, and his was right next door. If you had motored to Mosskirch I would have asked you, naturally.”

  Robert was still angry. “Didn’t it occur to you that I could have hired a car and taken you wherever you wished? I’ll tell you this, I never would have taken the risk of putting you through that ordeal this afternoon. It could have done your mental state untold harm. I wonder what the doctor would think of that irresponsible action!”

  There was a great deal of truth in his words. Dr. Hallstein would probably have plenty to say about that sudden swerve to within a few feet of the pine trees, but it had removed the blank in her mind and she felt a lot happier than she had since her arrival. Impulsively she put her hand on Robert’s arm.

  “It has lifted a tremendous burden from my shoulders, Robert. Maybe, the method was a bit tough, but it did the trick, and once I tell the police all the details, perhaps all this mystery will end. I really don’t want to go back to England yet.” She looked at him frankly. “It honestly didn’t occur to me that you could have hired a car, or I would have asked you. You never seem to be here except in the evenings.”

  Brown eyes burned into hers as he shrugged diffidently. “I suggested to you several evenings ago that you might like to come with me when you felt up to it, and I have been waiting for you to say the word. For all I knew, you might not have wanted my company through the day, so I haven’t referred to the subject since.”

  How typical of an Englishman, she thought with a rush of warmth. After the vigorous, assured manner of Anton Reiter, Robert’s reserve was as welcome as a glimpse of home.

  “Can I persuade you that I do want your company, and make up for excluding you from all my troubles by spending the day with you tomorrow? Now, if you’ll go away, I’ll dress for the dance and meet you downstairs as soon as I possibly can.”

  Before she could move, he had caught her round the waist and held her still while he instructed her, “Let’s get it clear that you are with me, tonight. This affair is likely to get rowdy later on, so if you want to leave, say so and I’ll bring you back. We still have a lot of things to discuss about your return home. I’m not letting the matter drop, but you will be safe enough with me for this evening. You deserve a little light relief . . . but I intend to continue this discussion later on.”

  “No fuss please, Robert. I am not going home yet. The work on my book still has to be done. Besides, I doubt if Inspector Schultz would agree to letting me leave.” She tilted her head to one side. “For tonight, let’s forget it. Please?”

  “Oh . . . if you insist,” he agreed grudgingly. “Make it snappy, then, if you want to eat before we go.”

  While she hurriedly prepared for the dance, her mind was not on Robert, however. It was full of the astonishing news that Anton Reiter had once been an international figure. No wonder he had adopted that stiff-backed attitude when she had spoken slightingly of his ignorance of the arts. He would assume she knew who he was! As if that were not enough, she had added further insult by offering to pay him for rescuing her from the trout farm. Thank heavens, it had not occurred to her to offer to buy the petrol for this afternoon’s ride! There was no doubt he had a great deal of pride, both personal and national – his reaction to her stress on the fact that Robert was English had not escaped her – so why he should take an interest in her plight after the way she had behaved was incomprehensible.

  The answer stared her in the face, but she was racing ahead with her thoughts and missed it. She couldn’t possibly ask any further favors of him, she decided. The social faux pas she had made over him had grown to outsize proportions and she could only be thankful there was not much chance of any of her mother’s friends hearing of it.

  Just after nine, she and Robert set off down the village street, arm in arm. The night was crystal clear and cold, with a luminous moon hanging above them to light the way. Their steps rang on the narrow pavement every time they passed a building, and mingled with those of the others who were arriving at the Berghof from every direction. The large lounge which had been prepared for the festivities was already practically full when they entered.

  Robert made a wry face at her and said, “I may have to guard you with my life this evening.”

  She laughed gaily. “I won’t count on it. It’s more than likely you’ll be besieged by village maidens.” It was no flattery. Robert was looking very attractive in a tweed jacket and coffee-colored shirt and trousers. It was the first time she had seen him in anything but walking gear, and it pleased her to have such a presentable escort. While they stood uncertainly in the doorway, several waving arms caught their attention and they walked across to where the German family from the Gasthaus indicated two empty chairs at their table.

  “Vielen Dank,” said Robert, and pulled one out for Kathryn to sit down. He exchanged a few halting words with the elder Herr Braun while Kathryn just smiled and renewed her vow to do something about her lack of languages when she went back to Bournemouth.

  “What a good thing we got here when we did,” Robert remarked glancing at the mostly-full tables around them. “Seems to be a popular date in the village calendar.”

  “Yes,” she said. “How beautifully they have decorated this room with greenery, and the trailing leaves around the edge of the tables add that extra touch. It’s so . . . so . . . what is that word again?”

  He grinned. “Gemütlich?”

  “That’s it. As far as I’m concerned, it means tonight . . . this atmosphere . . . this gaiety . . . and this room.”

  He slid his arm along the back of her chair. “You can make it mean anything you wish,” he said softly, bringing color to her cheeks.

  There was no question of not taking part in the general celebrations. The minute the band started to play, Kathryn was whisked off by a hearty fellow who smelt of a mixture of cows and after-shave. He had had his eye on her since she arrived and had told his fellow bachelors he would be the first to dance with the Schmetterling in the green skirt. Although he chatted to her throughout the length of the rather galloping waltz, it didn’t matter that she didn’t understand a word. He laughed heartily at everything he said, and when she was returned bre
athless to her seat, he delighted her by bowing over her hand and kissing it before he loped away.

  “I do love that custom,” she said to Robert. “It’s so romantic.”

  “Don’t you believe it,” he returned with a grin. “It’s just an attempt to peer down the front of your blouse.”

  No words of his could prevent her from indulging her romantic fancies, however, and she loved every minute of the first hour.

  The band consisting of three men in leather shorts and embroidered braces played folk tunes on accordions, and alternated with yodelling and close-harmony singing. The songs were all well-known to the villagers who joined in with lusty voices – the younger men adding ya ha hoo every so often in merry high spirits.

  Kathryn discovered she was not quite as cut off from the Braun family as she had thought. The son and daughter-in-law spoke school-standard French, as she did, so they managed to communicate in hesitant, and somewhat hilarious, tri-lingual sentences. Robert managed quite well with his German, and also proved lighter on his feet than Kathryn feared. He claimed several bouncy polkas before the Austrians could reach her.

  “I told you I should have to guard you with my life,” he teased during one of them, “and this is nowhere near gemütlich yet.” Just then, the band stopped playing with a roll of drums and the leader, a cherubic midget with a nearly-bald head, called out instructions in a loud voice, and Robert translated for her.

  “Sorry, it seems we have to split up and take another partner from those who are not dancing. Our friend in shorts wants everyone on the floor for this.” He squeezed her hand. “Watch who you pick – it’s liable to get hectic!”

  The mad criss-cross of people pushed her to the far end of the room where the dimly-lit bar was doing a roaring trade, and she touched the arm of a man leaning on the end of the polished counter. He must have been celebrating since early afternoon because the face which turned towards her was flushed and beery.

  “Oh, I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I . . . I didn’t realize you weren’t dancing.”