Pink Snow

by Edna Dawes

There was a stunned silence while the implication sank in.

  “And is this why you will not visit my house today; why we must meet here, so that it is safe for you?” In his passion his phrasing went haywire. “I had thought you suspected me of anything but that!” He found it intolerable to sit still any longer and stood up in an attempt to reduce his temper before he exploded. “Is that all you think I am?” he accused looking down on her, “A failed sportsman who uses his past to catch all the girls?”

  She stood up equally furious. ‘I am going! You asked me here this evening to discuss something very serious, then start a ridiculous quarrel.”

  He was beside her helping her on with her coat. “You cannot walk back alone in the dark.”

  “I can’t see why.” She wove her way between tables with Anton close behind her.

  “Why do you think I waited to escort you here? It is not safe.”

  They both stamped down the steps, and Kathryn said sourly, “I might as well accept defeat and return home. I should have taken Robert’s advice long ago.”

  “As you have taken his advice about me!”

  “I’ll leave tomorrow,” she vowed, ignoring him.

  “No, Kathryn!” He caught her arm and swung her round to face him. “You cannot leave yet.”

  “Why?”

  “Your car is not ready.” She knew he had thought of that at the last moment.

  “I can buy an air ticket.”

  He held both her arms now. “Do you really want to leave Mosskirch tomorrow?”

  His softer tone made her pull free and walk determinedly on.

  “Yes, I think I should have done so several days ago. Things are just going from bad to worse.”

  They walked in silence until they neared the Gasthaus. Kathryn willed the distance to diminish, before she succumbed to the desire to drop her silly pretence of indifference to him. If only Robert would decide to take his evening walk right now, she could simply call a gay “good night” to Anton and escape indoors, but Fate decided Robert shouldn’t intervene and Kathryn was left with the problem of how to bid a final farewell to this man.

  Anton took the matter into his hands, being the man he was.

  “If you really intend leaving in the morning, I shall have to inform my brother-in-law, Franz Mitterbauer. You are still involved in the mystery of the dead man.”

  She had had enough and threw in the towel. “Don’t worry,” she said wearily, “I shan’t slip away during the night. Knowing my luck, there won’t be an empty seat on a plane for at least a week.” Her soft word of farewell was met with a sentence in German which didn’t sound like an angry man’s words.

  During the six days she had been in Mosskirch there had been many shocks and surprises, but this particular evening depressed her more than any other. It had been unnecessary to march off leaving such a disagreement hanging between them. It would have been easy to say she did not believe Robert’s assessment of him, for a painful suspicion that he may have been sincere towards here was growing stronger On several occasions he had bounced back from her unjust accusations of criminal conduct, yet the comparatively harmless charge of being a womanizer was harder for him to swallow. What a complicated temperament he possessed! The quarrel had snowballed so quickly she could scarcely believe the trust and friendship they had had last night was now shattered. Unable to resist the temptation, she walked to the window and threw back the shutters. Light was streaming on to the balcony next door, and Wagner was back in favor!

  Across the valley, the lighted snake of the Innsbruck to Sternsee train was disappearing into the distance, a faint toot echoing back to her. With a pang, she realized how much she would miss Mosskirch. How often, when she was back in Bournemouth, would her thoughts come winging across the mountains to this village, and how would she bear not knowing what Anton was doing, who he was with, what he was feeling? The solution was in her own hands if only she could be sure it was the right one.

  Below her the garden was suddenly illuminated by an elongated rectangle of light as the back door of the Gasthaus opened. Voices drew her eyes down to see who was arriving or leaving. Dr. Hallstein stepped from the house and turned in the patch of light to speak to someone by the door. For a few minutes, they conversed in low tones, then the doctor was joined by another man who walked to the corner of the garden with him. After a final exchange, Dr. Hallstein departed, leaving his companion to return to the Gasthaus. Perhaps it was the way he walked, or the knickerbockers and heavy jacket he wore which seemed familiar to Kathryn, but she puzzled over where she had seen him before for several minutes after he had returned indoors.

  When the answer came, it was very unwelcome. She ran to her bedroom door to check that it was locked, then stood leaning against it listening to her heart thudding and wondering what to do. There was no way of reaching Anton except by unlocking her door and going downstairs – and the man who had chased her along the top of Karlstein was down there, too.

  Back at the window, she looked across at the balcony willing Anton to appear. He didn’t, of course, and it was no use throwing something on to the stony surface because the wild sweep of Götterdämmerung would drown any other sound. Why, oh why, had she left the Berghof so impulsively? They could still have been together. She had not even asked Anton if he knew her pursuer. The man must be a villager or he would never use the back-door of the Gasthaus so freely, nor would he be on such good terms with Dr. Hallstein – there had been a moment when he laid his arm along the doctor’s shoulders in a gesture of camaraderie.

  Was Frau Petz aware that she had a villain in her house? Often, men from the village came in the Stube for a drink in the evening, or sat at one of the small tables to play a complicated game similar to cribbage It was not unusual for as many as half-a-dozen be there, but Kathryn couldn’t remember seeing this particular one amongst them. It now looked as though Anton’s refusal to believe his friends capable of crime sprang from his heart and not his head, because Dr. Hallstein was most definitely in cahoots with the man in knockerbockers. The evidence of her own eyes was irrefutable!

  For a moment she toyed with the idea of going upstairs on the off-chance of finding Robert in his room. In an emergency like this any quarrel they had had would be overlooked surely – but what would, she tell him? That one of the villagers in the Stube was out to harm her; that he had been after her on Karlstein? She knew what Robert’s reaction would be. “Go to the police” he would say, “you should have reported this straight away”. He would argue with Inspector Schultz that the British Consul should be contacted, and Kathryn provided with a police guard until she could be flown to England. The situation would be taken completely out of her hands until she was packed off to Bournemouth like a small child. She might not have a label tied to her button-hole bearing her name and address, but the manner of her return would make her feel she had. And it would leak to the press. It always did!

  Somehow they would dig up all the facts and gleefully pounce on the name, Anton Reiter. Knowing the way they worked, Kathryn had no doubts the details of his career which ended so dramatically would all be resurrected. How he would hate that! Goodness knows what would be suggested about herself. An English girl who got herself mixed up with two men and a mysterious death in the mountains would make exciting copy.

  The thought of all this made up her mind. Useless to go to Robert! All she could do was keep her door locked and stay awake keeping watch. Surely she was safe enough in this room? The dress she was wearing was replaced by warmer trousers and a soft courtelle sweater, then she sat on the bed propped-up by pillows ready for her all-night vigil.

  At first, her eyes didn’t wander from the door-handle, watching for it to turn, and her ears strained for the creak of stairs. At midnight she had relaxed enough to have her heart set thudding by the tramp of heavy feet on the stairs. Fool! she told herself. He is not likely to announce his arrival so blatantly. It is only Robert returning from his walk. Sure enough, the footsteps continued
up the second flight, and Kathryn heard the door open and close behind him.

  By one-thirty she was asleep, curled against the bunched quilt like a puppy seeking warmth from his brothers and sisters. The bedside lamp still burned throwing light on the doorknob which stayed innocently motionless. All sounds from below had ceased more than half an hour ago, and the man Kathryn feared was as soundly asleep as she. One person was still awake, however. Anton Reiter noticed the light in Kathryn’s window when he went on to the balcony to try to clear his head. It bothered him. She was up there feeling unhappy and he could do nothing about it. It was just one more thing to torment him; one more problem to deal with before it was too late. Somehow he had to get to the bottom of all this mystery surrounding the village before that girl decided she could take no more and went home.

  At ten-thirty the following morning, Maria knocked on Kathryn’s door, bringing her from troubled sleep. It took a little while for her mind to adjust to why she was lying full-dressed in bed, and why the light was on. She noticed it straight away because it was sufficiently dark inside the room to need it, although a glance at her watch told her the morning was well-advanced. Still in a daze she called out, “Who is it?”

  “It is Maria. Are you well, Miss Davis?”

  Kathryn scrambled from her bed and unlocked the door.

  “Oh, Maria,” she pushed the tumbled hair from her eyes, “I overslept, I’m afraid.”

  Maria took a look at the other girl’s crumpled clothes and washed-out appearance. “Would you like breakfast here, Miss Davis? It might be better.”

  Kathryn agreed. At this hour, Frau Petz would want breakfast finished with, and she didn’t really feel like rushing through the morning routine at breakneck speed. With her usual slow return to wakefulness came the memories of last night. The headache which threatened was helped along by the nagging worry of what she should do about her situation, but she shelved the dilemma until after breakfast.

  It was cold this morning and she looked forward to the coffee Maria would bring, a glance from her window showed her why it was dim inside the room. Heavy grey cloud hung in the valley, blanking off the mountains and throwing a wintry gloom over the village. It was not a day to encourage the walkers to take to the mountain paths. What a complete reversal of yesterday, when the sun had shone so brightly. Maria knocked and brought in a tray. She saw Kathryn by the window and commented, “We shall have an early season this year. Already the snow is on Schwesterlein, and once it comes it will not go away until spring.”

  “I thought it had grown colder,” said Kathryn. “Surely that is not the last of the sunny weather?”

  “Oh no. We shall see much sun yet, but once the freezing begins it is the start of our winter, and we can expect snow.” She joined Kathryn at the window and pointed to the far end of the valley. “See Glasspitze, there where the cloud is opening. The snow-line has crept down to the trees during the night. Soon, it will reach the lower slopes, then the village. They will be skiing here by the end of next month.”

  “So soon?” asked Kathryn in surprise.

  Maria nodded. “We have had very warm weather for October. Now we must jump straight into winter. The cloud is so low today even the chair-lift will not run. It is good that you went to Karlstein yesterday. Did you find help for your book?”

  “Yes, I even saw the place where the chamois are supposed to roam,” said Kathryn carefully. “I suppose you didn’t mention to anyone where I had gone?”

  “No, but my father was worried that you had visited Karlstein alone, and scolded Mutti for arranging it. He does not understand about writing books, I think.”

  Suddenly, the jig-saw which had started when she arrived in Mosskirch began piecing together, and Kathryn found her heart thudding.

  “Your father knew where I was yesterday?”

  “Yes, but he would not tell because Mutti explained to him.”

  “I still haven’t met your father, Maria, although I think I saw him last night talking to Dr. Hallstein. Was he wearing knickerbockers and a dark jacket?”

  The girl nodded. “Dr. Hallstein called to see him soon after he came in. They are very old friends, you understand.”

  “I’m sure they are.” The emphasis on the words went unnoticed by Maria, but it expressed a great deal of what Kathryn was thinking.

  Maria left her guest pouring coffee and marvelling at how the truth had eluded her for so long. Herr Petz had never appeared on the scene, yet he was the key figure in all this business. He had found her lying unconscious in her car and had brought her to the Gasthaus run by his wife so that he could keep an eye on her. It was not chance which had brought him along that part of the mountain just then. He had been the shadowy figure which had run in front of her car and made her swerve into the pines. Without waiting to see her fate, he had continued after his quarry and killed him before returning to her car. Naturally, he had summoned his very good friend Dr. Hallstein to attend her so that he could certify that she was not in her right mind if she said anything they wished kept quiet. Her car was collected by his other good friend, Peter, so that it could be switched with another of the same make and thus hinder the police.

  Frau Petz was the person who had persuaded her to go to the trout farm that afternoon — nobody else knew her destination — and Frau Petz arranged the lift with Helmut yesterday. Kathryn had seen Herr Petz on Karlstein, and she was now convinced he was her attacker at the trout farm. She had been wrong in her belief that the hands on her neck had belonged to a younger man.

  She drank the hot coffee gratefully, but left the rolls untouched. What an idiot she had been not to see it before! The mere fact that he had kept well out of her way, plus the knowledge that, by profession, he wandered around the valley and mountains checking footpaths should have shown her he was the obvious villain, but she could not believe that Frau Petz and Maria were knowing accomplices. All the time she had felt so safe in the Gasthaus it had been like sitting on a powder keg. Anton had believed she could come to no harm under this roof. How would he take the news that his friend and neighbor had been responsible for all this? He had been upset enough about Peter and Dr. Hallstein, but Maria had intimated that he was one of the family as far as the Petzes were concerned.

  It would be a nasty blow coming on top of the other. Her first job this morning was to tell him what she had discovered and ask for more advice. They would have to tell the police, of course, but Anton would not make a big thing over it as Robert would. She could rely on him to deal with it quietly and competently.

  It seemed she couldn’t rely on anything. The sports shop was closed and there was no sign of Anton or any intimation of when he would be back. Her luck had always been pretty fitful, but it seemed extra bitter that he shouldn’t be there on the one day she most needed him. It was bitingly cold, cloudy grey and only eleven-thirty. To sit inside the Gasthaus was unthinkable, with all this burning inside her it would be impossible to write, nor could she wander far from the village along the lonely paths. It would be playing right into Herr Petz’s hands.

  There was only one thing she could do until Anton returned. On a train she would be safe enough surrounded by other passengers, so today was the time to make her trip to Sternsee. Perhaps the pleasure of travelling on the scarlet train would ease the tautness inside her.

  Once aboard, her spirits began to revive. The other passengers smiled and nodded at her as she chose her seat by the window, but the scenery outside soon proved a bigger draw than the friendly Austrians. The journey was like passing through a picture book. The track took them past small farms where fawn-grey cows with Disney faces munched the rich grass, setting their bells clanking in a tinny chorus; past sloping fields dotted with small huts where faraway figures were busily storing the dried grass ready for the winter’s severity; past deep scars in the grey rock worn there by torrents of water which were now reduced to mere trickles; and pretty white churches standing on emerald slopes.

  When Sternsee mo
ved into sight round a bend in the track, Kathryn stood up regretfully. A journey of this nature could never be long enough for her! After the warmth of the carriage the chill outside made her shiver and pull the points of her collar together under her chin. How she wished it were sunny. The village of Sternsee clustered round the lake which gave it its name, and pretty though it looked, would have been altogether delightful with sunshine and a blue sky reflecting in the still water of the lake. Today, the glassy surface was a sinister dark green and all that could be seen of the surrounding peaks was a-wall of rock decapitated by great banks of grey cumulus. On a clear day, the scenic splendor of this place would be as photographic as Robert had described it.

  Feeling hungry after her lack of breakfast, she headed for a small café in the center of the village and ordered a bowl of soup followed by a variety of sausage, and salad. Sternsee appeared to be a very busy place. During her lunch, a continuous procession of people passed before the window, and ears nosed their way through the narrow street in surprising numbers. The woman who served the meal spoke little English, but seemed in a talkative mood, nevertheless. Between them they managed to pass the time of day, but when the woman found out Kathryn had come by train from Mosskirch she became quite excited.

  “Men come from Mosskirch this morning,” she said. “It is too bad for Sternsee men.”

  At a loss, Kathryn asked, “What is too bad?”

  “It is a fall . . .” she waved her arms in an attempt to communicate. “Here in Sternsee.” She pointed to the mountains, and Kathryn began to understand.

  “Has there been an accident?”

  “Ja, ja,” the woman nodded vigorously. “All men go to see.”

  Her earlier words suddenly took on a meaning. “Men come from Mosskirch” she had said. Was that why Anton’s shop was closed? The Mosskirch rescue team had to drop everything and go when there was a climber in difficulties, and today’s weather was quite likely to create such a situation.

  A burst of alarm sent her from the café in search of reassurance. Now she understood why there was so much activity in this unremarkable village! Following the road which ran alongside the lake she saw in the distance a group of cars, an ambulance and a crowd of people. She quickened her pace until she was running. It took several minutes before she found a man who spoke English well enough to explain to her that this was no ordinary climbing accident. A motorist had missed a turn in the winding Sternpass last night and his car had fallen into a cleft halfway down the mountain. There were hopes that he was still alive, but it was impossible to pull the car from its position so the rescuers had to try to free the driver. The great danger was that the car might slip further into the cleft taking them with it. The leader of the rescue team was keeping in touch with the medical staff waiting by the ambulance by means of a walkie-talkie appliance, so their progress was being followed. The latest information Kathryn’s informant had had was that the first tentative attempt to reach the trapped driver had failed and they were about to try a different approach.