Pink Snow

by Edna Dawes

  Her prayer was unanswered. Into the silence came a faint cry. “HEL-LO. HEL-LO.”

  Robert pushed Kathryn on to the ground and told her to lie still and keep quiet. “I have a gun. If you try to warn them I’ll start with Anton Reiter’s knees, then his stomach . . . and so on. It’s amazing how long a man can stay alive, and the experience can be very harrowing.” He raised his voice. “Over here! The girl is hurt.”

  All she could do was hope for a miracle, but knowing her usual luck, had little confidence in the hope. The wavering lights had entered the clearing now and the strong beams first touched the couple. Robert waved his arms to attract their attention, and repeated, “The girl is hurt. You’ll need a stretcher.”

  Kathryn lay with a pounding heart as they approached. All she could see were the yellow dazzles of light and, after a while, it struck her they were taking an extremely long time to cover the distance. The jiggling lamps indicated that the bearers were moving, but seemed to get no nearer. Robert began to get edgy and muttered in German while Kathryn felt a glimmer of hope rise in her. There was something strange going on here. The Mosskirch rescue team was more efficient than this!

  Then, the hope diminished as the lights approached rapidly. They were walking into the trap, after all! One man detached himself from the others and came forward into the circle of light. It was Anton. He carried a first-aid box over one shoulder and a rolled-up collapsible stretcher in his hand.

  “What is the trouble?” he asked calmly, taking no notice of Kathryn lying on the ground.

  “Broken her arm I should think,” said Robert. “Get the others over here before we start to move her.”

  “I think we can manage between us,” said Anton and, quick as lightning, swung at Robert with the stretcher. It opened and both men fell to the ground swamped in the canvas folds. Hands pulled Kathryn to her feet and away behind the rocks. There was a loud report, then one of the men rose from the tangle of bodies and canvas, and started to run. The next few minutes were confused; full of lights and shouted German commands. The running figure was caught in the crossbeams like an aircraft in a battery of searchlights. He swung round and round in an attempt to find darkness until, finally, a shot rang out and he fell with a cry in the center of the glade.

  In a mad frenzy, Kathryn screamed Anton’s name and ran to where the man lay, but was prevented from getting too near by Peter who had run after her. Policemen emerged from the surrounding trees and approached the prostrate figure. From where she stood, Kathryn could see blood running from a wound in his arm, soaking into the snow and staining it pink. The sight affected her strongly and she flung herself against Peter’s chest crying, “Do something! He’ll die.”

  The young Austrian put an arm round her and said, “Come away, please. The police will do what has to be done.”

  She strained against his firm hold on her arm. “Let me go to him, please. He may die if you don’t help. Anton is your friend.”

  “Look, Miss,” said Peter, pointing to where a man in a blue-grey uniform was turning over the injured man. “It is not Anton. He is with Herr Petz by the rocks. Let me take you there.”

  Kathryn looked closely at the figure in the snow and saw Robert’s face twisted with pain. So sure had she been that the legend had been revived, there had been no doubt in her mind that Anton had been shot just then. Willingly she went back to the rocks with Peter and saw Anton leaning against the grey stone apparently unhurt. She rushed at him with sobbing words of thanks for what he had done and thanked God that he was safe, but his lack of response shocked her from her bout of emotion. He looked right through her. She might well not have spoken or touched him for all the notice he took, and Herr Petz took her shoulders gently and led her away. He ordered her to drink a draught of some fiery liquid, then wrapped her in some blankets.

  Franz Mitterbauer came across to talk to Anton, and next minute the party prepared to leave. The descent of Karlstein passed in a haze of numbness. She was carried on a stretcher despite her feeble protests that she could walk quite well. The journey along the path back to the restaurant was an impression of light dappling tree-trunks, blue-grey backs of policemen walking ahead of her, an occasional soft curse as a man slipped on the fast-freezing ground, the stillness which comes with snow, and the regular swaying movement of her canvas bed.

  At one time she must have drifted off to sleep because the next thing she knew was the dim interior of an ambulance as it drove carefully down to Mosskirch. There was another person lying against the far side of the vehicle, and from the faint gleam of his fair hair she realized it was Anton. Why, she couldn’t imagine. Had he been hurt after all? It was Robert’s blood which had stained the snow pink, not the tall blond Captain Karl’s, wasn’t it? What had happened to the chamois, she wondered? She must warn them before the hunting party arrived. And what about the castle? Would it really go up in flames? Desperately she turned to the attendant who sat beside her.

  “I must tell them,” she whispered. “They are walking into a trap.”

  He spoke soothing words she didn’t understand and laid a hand on her forehead. It seemed that all this had happened before, long, long ago.

  *

  Kathryn lay in her bed two nights later watching the snow drifting softly against the window and decided she should leave Mosskirch the following day. It would be the most sensible thing to do. Inspector Schultz had offered to arrange an air passage to London, but she had turned it down. He had promised to do what he could to keep her name out of press reports, but she knew it would leak out eventually and thought it best to return to Bournemouth before her mother got wind of it and came to Mosskirch. The winter weather was setting in with a vengeance, and if she didn’t drive home soon, the roads would start getting treacherous. Her car, which had never needed a spare part from Innsbruck, was in full running order, so there was nothing to stop her from leaving in the morning.

  Peter had refused to charge her for the repairs he had done, but confessed he could in no way make up for the worry and fear she had suffered because of his actions. Both the young garage owner and Herr Petz had been profuse in their apologies and tried to explain to her the dilemma they had been in.

  It had all started when Boris Gnutov had written to a fellow philosopher to tell of fears that the regime was about to silence his outspoken views. Although now resident in Paris, this friend was an Austrian who had spent the war years in Mosskirch where he had taken part in resistance activities. He remembered this when puzzling over the problem and promptly got in touch with Herr Petz who had been the leader. There was only Dr. Hallstein left of the original group, so the two men had approached Peter who agreed to take his dead father’s place in the operation.

  Herr Petz was to have met Gnutov at the hut near Kapellerpass and brought him to Dr. Hallstein for the night. Peter was then to drive him to the next rendezvous in a small covered van. That would have been their only part in the escape, but on his way to the hut, Herr Petz had discovered Kathryn in her car, and was faced with a problem. Since Gnutov was not in the hut, he stopped a passing motorist and took Kathryn to his wife’s Gasthaus where he called Dr. Hallstein.

  When the body was found near Kapellerpass, the two men realized what, must have happened and feared police enquiries would hinder the hastily-altered plans to pass the Russian through the village. They had had no intention of incriminating Kathryn, but felt if they could keep police attention on her for a few days it would leave them free, to continue with their activities. To this end they switched the number-plates to leave doubts of an accident. The incident at the trout farm scared them badly. Dr. Hallstein built up the story that Kathryn was suffering from delusions, but they realized she must be protected from the killer. Her Petz agreed to follow her wherever she went, and was doing this on Karlstein when she became frightened and ran.

  The Russian was eventually brought into Mosskirch in a brewer’s lorry on the night of the Forellenabend, and Gnutov was concealed in the worksho
p of Peter’s garage when the lorry stopped for petrol. Later that night, Dr. Hallstein drove the Russian out to his home. No wonder Peter had received such a shock when Kathryn faced him with the charge of changing number-plates. Gnutov had been in the back of the Volkswagen at the time, and the young Austrian couldn’t be sure how much the girl and her companion had seen.

  The rest of the plan had gone smoothly until Anton had started asking awkward questions. At first, they dared not tell their friend the truth, but after the attempt to kill Dr. Hallstein they knew someone was on to them and could not lie to him any longer. Anton had been furious at their treatment of Kathryn, but had to agree to keep silent until Gnutov and his papers were safe.

  She now realized why he had behaved so oddly on that fatal morning. Tied by a promise to a life-long friend, Anton had chosen to hint that Kathryn had imagined the chase on Karlstein rather than tell a covering of lies which he knew she would soon pierce with insistent questions. The anger in his eyes had not been directed at her, but at circumstance, and his pride had allowed her to walk away from him in hurt disbelief.

  Inspector Schultz was not as slow-witted as Kathryn imagined, and had been working quietly on the case of the unidentified man. Once Kathryn remembered a figure emerging from the rocks, he started to investigate where the man might have come from. The path which led to an inn at Möllnitz was soon discovered and from then on police thoroughness unravelled the clues which led to the tracing of Robert’s car at Sternsee. The Inspector drove to Headquarters at Innsbruck to check on the Englishman, Robert Farr. Several telephone calls soon persuaded him he was on to something and he immediately contacted Franz with orders to call in the man for questioning.

  The Gendarme and a full complement of police arrived at the Gasthaus just as the rescue team was assembling, and Anton was extremely worried about Kathryn’s safety when he heard what his brother-in-law had to say. Fearing she would be in danger if the police revealed themselves and challenged Robert, the three villagers agreed to pretend to walk into the trap in order to try to protect her when their quarry became suspicious. What the outcome would have been if Franz Mitterbauer had arrived too late, Kathryn didn’t dare think.

  She pummelled her quilt once more and tried to make her mind a blank. It was impossible. She had heard of people who had had their life changed by a twist of fate; had missed a plane they had intended to catch, or rung the wrong doorbell. If she had crossed Kapellerpass two minutes earlier or later that Saturday afternoon, she might have stayed in any hotel in Mosskirch, Robert would never have been interested in her, and Anton Reiter would still be an unknown name as far as she was concerned — but did she really wish it had all never happened?

  In the ten days she had been in Mosskirch there had been more excitement, more fear, more emotion than she had ever experienced in her lifetime, and she had dealt with it as it had come. There had been bad mistakes, errors of judgement, but she had survived, and her acceptance of each anxiety had brought praise from Anton.

  Now, she was accepting this latest anxiety. She had not known until the following day that Anton had been taken on to Innsbruck hospital in the ambulance. While struggling with Robert in the folds of the stretcher, the revolver had gone off right beside his right temple, and there was some doubt about damage to his sight once more. He had been dazed and unable to see properly after the incident, and the doctor advised an observation period in hospital. Franz had been very good in keeping Kathryn up-to-date with bulletins from the hospital and tonight had told her their fears had been groundless; Anton’s eye was undamaged and he would be returning to Mosskirch in a day or two.

  Something in her make-up wouldn’t allow her to be there, kicking her heels until he turned up. The mystery was solved, the folk tale found . . . there was no reason for her to stay. She would have to return to Innsbruck to give evidence at Robert’s trial, but that was a long time ahead and she had no wish to embarrass Anton on his return. His confession of love might easily have been made under the guise of pity and could fade in the reality of everyday life. And if it didn’t, was she courageous enough to change her nationality, her way of life, to live in this village with a man who was trying to forget his past? Could she provide him with what he needed? For herself, his strength reflected itself in her, building her confidence and resolution to an all-time high, and here among the mountains she could feel free as air. Even so, she continued to make plans to leave in the morning. A week was such a short time to know each other. It would be traumatic to wait in this Gasthaus for a man who remained firmly next door!

  *

  During the journey over Kapellerpass the sun had reappeared, belying the sadness Kathryn attached to the morning, but improving conditions on the roads. She drove fast, anxious to cover the distance as soon as possible, and it was just on midday when she climbed the rise towards the frontier post before cutting across a corner of Bavaria.

  Pulling up behind the short queue she waited to hand her passport to the smiling official, but when she drew level he took one look at her name and said, “Please pull over to the side, Miss Davis. You may put your car in one of those bays until you are ready to leave.”

  “Why can’t I go on?” she asked in alarm.

  “Please leave the queue, Miss,” he insisted. “You are holding everyone up.” He waved an arm towards the bays, then walked back to the next car with her passport still in his hand.

  After twenty minutes of cross, anxious questioning she was still given no firm reason for her detention. Anxiety was turning to agitation when a blue Volkswagen hurtled up the road and swung round to halt beside her. Inside were Anton and Franz, the latter in uniform. The Gendarme went straight across to the office where he slapped the men on their backs in joyful spirits while Anton came round to her car window and looked down unsmiling.

  “You promised you would not leave without telling me.”

  Still confused by his sudden appearance she stammered; “I . . . I didn’t think it still applied.”

  “Why?” he shot at her.

  “You weren’t there . . . and the danger was over.”

  “I am here now.” He opened the car door and said, “Please come out, Kathryn. I cannot speak with you properly while you are sitting inside.”

  She climbed out and was forced to stand close to him because they were sandwiched between the two cars.

  “You cannot drive through the barrier until Franz tells them to let you go,” he told her. “I have come after you because there are many things we have not yet settled between us, but if you drive into Bavaria, that will be the end of it. I shall not follow you to England.”

  She didn’t know what to say. His high-handedness in using Franz’s official position to detain her took her breath away. She was not even sure they were not breaking the law by stopping her without good reason.

  Anton raised his voice. “Kathryn, unless you wish me to embrace you before the eyes of everyone, will you please speak to me!”

  “I thought it was you whom they shot on Karlstein, like Captain Karl. That was when I knew I loved you,” she said out of the blue.

  His eyes darkened. “I am not part of a legend, mein Schätzchen.”

  She nodded. “Maybe I should forget about fairy tales from now on.”

  “No, Kathryn. Too many people have forgotten there is still enchantment to be found in the world if one looks for it. For five years, I had also forgotten. You have reminded me.” He took her hands. “So, what am I to tell Franz?”

  She looked at the tall young Austrian with the hair that shone like gold and smiled.

  “Tell him they can keep the barrier down. I shan’t be leaving the country just yet.”

  He did kiss her then, regardless of the onlookers, and when they broke apart the traffic at the check-point had come to a standstill. All the officials were walking across to them laughing and talking with Franz. Soon, Kathryn and Anton were Surrounded by beaming Austrians who shook them by the hand and clapped them on the back.
Motorists left their cars to join in the general excitement. Kathryn didn’t understand a word that was said to her, but it sounded very much as though Anton had no need to propose, or her accept. Their future had already been settled by these friendly, happy people.

  Anton, looking flushed and happy, smiled down at her. “My people are welcoming you to your new country,” he told her.

  She smiled back. “Now I really know what gemütlich means,” she said.

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