by Jim Reeves
He entered the house and the warmth enveloped him like a warm blanket. It was just what he might have expected. A large deer’s head was mounted on a wood panelled wall in a large entrance hall. Its glass eyes stared sightlessly in his direction. There were maybe a dozen other smaller animal heads on the wall. Joe wasn’t sure what they were. Some kind of goat, maybe. A wide staircase with an ornately carved banister led to the floor above. There were several doors leading off the hall to the right.
The gruff man grabbed Joe’s arm and pushed him towards a door at the end of the hall. They entered a large well-furnished room that glowed with warmth. At one end was a large dining table surrounded by eight heavy wooden chairs. A well-stocked drinks cabinet stood against another wall. The heat was supplied by a large wood burning stove against a wall to the right. An L-shaped settee occupied another wall with a long low coffee table and two large easy chairs facing it.
‘Sit,’ the big man ordered pointing at the settee.
Joe obeyed, grateful for a chance to try to get his head together. Little more than twenty four hours earlier he had wandered into George Bishop’s club looking for a lost cat, now he was in the middle of nowhere in a strange country being intimidated by a Godzilla lookalike and he had no idea why. He was a little surprised to realise that his initial apprehension was rapidly being replaced by serious irritation. He definitely didn’t like being pushed around.
The big man put the pack of CDs on the coffee table, sat in a chair opposite Joe and stared at him.
‘Still not speaking?’ asked Joe.
The man didn’t answer. They sat silently for maybe ten more minutes until the door opened and a woman in her twenties entered carrying a tray. She placed the tray on the coffee table and looked at Joe. ‘Would you like coffee?’ she asked in accented English.
‘Might just save my life.’ Joe smiled gratefully.
‘Cream or sugar?’ she asked as she poured from a large coffee pot.
‘Black, is fine’ Joe said.
The girl poured a coffee for Joe’s companion without asking and placed the cup close to him. Joe sipped his coffee. It was hot and strong.
‘Good coffee,’ he told her.
‘Thank you,’ she smiled.
‘Where am I?’ asked Joe.
The girl looked at Joe then at his companion.
‘You don’t know?’
‘Somewhere in Austria, I’m guessing.’
‘Didn’t Bruno tell you?’
‘Didn’t tell me his name either.’ Joe shrugged. ‘Shy, I suppose.’
‘Later,’ Bruno snapped. ‘No talking.’
The girl looked defiantly at Bruno but said nothing. She went to a dresser against the wall and started to take cutlery from a drawer.
Bruno rose from the chair and walked up behind the girl. He held her waist and tried to nuzzle her neck. She twisted sharply, pushing him away.
‘Not now,’ she told him.
He held her wrists and leaned forward trying to kiss her.
‘Get off,’ she said, continuing to struggle.
Bruno pushed her against the dresser and leaned forward. Suddenly a hand gripped his arm. He looked round to see Joe staring coldly at him.
‘She said no,’ Joe told him firmly.
A look of sheer disbelief came to Bruno’s face. Then a smile. He released his grip on the girl and turned his attention to Joe. He threw a large fist at Joe’s face. Joe was expecting it and ducked low, avoiding the blow. Bruno was thrown slightly off balance and toppled towards Joe. Joe drove a fist into Bruno’s gut, causing him to gasp but the gasp was more in surprise than pain. Even as the blow landed Joe knew it wasn’t enough. Bruno had maybe twenty years and a seventy pound weight advantage on him. The next second Bruno hit him with a forearm smash across his face, catapulting him across the room. Joe crashed against the wall and sprawled groggily on the floor wondering what had hit him. Bruno smiled wickedly and moved in to inflict real damage.
‘No,’ the girl screamed as she grabbed at Bruno, pulling him back.
Bruno looked at the girl for a moment, then at Joe, still on the floor and shrugged.
‘Later,’ he told Joe. ‘I finish you good.’ He sat down again and picked up his cup.
The girl helped Joe to his feet and he sat a little unsteadily back on the settee, feeling his jaw.
‘Thank you,’ she said quietly.
Joe nodded, not sure that he had done very much. The girl went back to the cutlery which she carried over to the large table. She set several places on the table.
She looked at Joe again. ‘My Father will be with you shortly,’ she told him. Then she left the room leaving Joe and Bruno to finish their coffee. Joe stared around the room studying the ornate panelling, trying to avoid eye contact with Bruno. When he did look in Bruno’s direction he saw that he was now wearing an amused smile. One thing was certain after their little encounter, if Joe was going to get out of this situation, he would need more than his bare hands against Bruno. A Kalashnikov might come in handy. He thought ruefully about the Magnum hidden in his underwear drawer at home when he needed it here. What he would have given to ram that under Bruno’s nose.
Chapter 17
Joe guessed that after the rough treatment he had suffered so far, the girl’s Father was not likely to do him any favours but he wanted to meet the man. He was curious to know why he had been brought to this place in such a manner. Certainly, Bruno wasn’t going to tell him. He was obviously the hired muscle with an eye on the boss’s daughter. They sat in silence for maybe another twenty minutes. Joe took an occasional surreptitious look at his watch hoping it wouldn’t upset Bruno too much.
Eventually the door opened. Joe looked round to see a tall man enter the room. He had close cropped white hair, a tanned, friendly face and clear blue eyes. He was casually dressed in a heavy sweater and cord trousers. Not quite what Joe had expected? Joe stood up. Bruno rose also. Joe wasn’t sure if it was in deference to the new arrival or to keep him in check.
The man smiled broadly and offered Joe his hand. ‘Otto Braun,’ he said.
Joe took his hand. Otto’s grip was strong. His blue eyes looked at Joe appraisingly.
‘Joe Box,’ Joe told him.
Otto’s eyes were amused. ‘I know who you are Mister Box. I hope Bruno has been taking good care of you.’ His English was impeccable with hardly a trace of an accent.
‘You could say that,’ Joe nodded. ‘It’s not often I’m taken for a ride with a gun shoved in my face.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Otto said apologetically. ‘I asked Bruno to be sure to bring you here. Perhaps he is a little too eager to please sometimes.’
Bruno glared silently at Joe. The unspoken threat was almost tangible.
‘So what do you want?’ Joe asked Otto.
‘I wanted to meet you,’ Otto told him. ‘You are a friend of George Bishop.’
‘So now we’ve met,’ Joe said sourly. ‘I need to get back to Salzburg to sort out a hotel.’
Otto raised his hands. ‘You don’t need a hotel,’ he said. ‘We have so much room here. Let me offer you dinner and accommodation for the night.’
Joe looked doubtful. ‘I’ve got an early flight home tomorrow.’
‘That is not a problem,’ smiled Otto. ‘I’m sure Bruno will take care of things.’
‘Is that a threat or a promise?’ asked Joe.
Otto laughed. ‘I promise you there will be no guns.’ He smiled at Joe. ‘Please let Bruno take your coat. Make yourself comfortable.’
The room was warm and Otto’s charm had Joe thinking that maybe Bruno was just an over enthusiastic oaf who probably had trouble tying his shoe laces, never mind carrying out orders. Also, Joe had hardly eaten that day and serious hunger pains were setting in.
He took off his raincoat and offered it to Bruno with a smile. Bruno frowned insolently but accepted the coat with some disdain and took it out into the hall.
Otto smiled. ‘Forgive Bruno. He is basically a
good man at heart but has much anger inside.’
‘I’ll take your word for that,’ Joe said.
‘Now please sit down. Let me get you a drink,’ said Otto.
Joe returned to his seat as Braun went to the drinks cabinet.
‘Would you like schnapps?’ asked Otto, holding up a tall slim bottle. ‘Guaranteed to drive away the cold.’
‘Thank you. Sounds good,’ nodded Joe.
Otto brought two small glasses containing a clear syrupy liquid. He offered a glass to Joe and sat opposite him.
Joe sipped his drink and grimaced.
Otto smiled and emptied his glass in one swift swallow.
‘Not a drink to be sipped,’ said Otto, smiling broadly.
Joe shrugged and threw his drink back, as Otto had done, just as Bruno returned to the room. Joe gasped and coughed hoarsely, his ears tingled and tears rain down his face. His throat felt like it was on fire. Otto looked concerned but Bruno looked highly amused as the coughing continued.
‘What was that?’ gasped Joe, wiping the tears from his face.
‘I am sorry, I should have warned you,’ said Otto. ‘It has quite a kick. It is something of an acquired taste I think.’
‘Doubt if I’ll live long enough to acquire it,’ Joe said hoarsely.
‘Would you prefer whisky?’ Braun asked. ‘I have a collection of very fine malts.’
‘Whisky is more my kind of poison,’ Joe nodded.
Braun went to the drinks cabinet and selected a bottle and three fresh glasses. ‘Do you want anything with it?’ he asked over his shoulder.
‘Ice would be good,’ Joe said.
Braun poured three drinks. Bruno collected one of the glasses and stood watching Joe as he sipped his drink.
Moments later Braun returned with two well filled glasses. Both with ice.
‘We share similar tastes, I think,’ Braun smiled.
Joe took his glass and sipped appreciatively. ‘That’s better.’ He smiled and relaxed for the first time since meeting Bruno at the airport. ‘I met your daughter,’ he said to Braun.
Braun smiled. ‘Elsa,’ he nodded. ‘She is preparing our meal. She is a very fine cook, I promise you.’
‘Can I ask where we are exactly?’ asked Joe.
Braun looked slightly amused. ‘Bruno didn’t tell you?’
‘No.’
‘You are on the outskirts of a small town called Eichl.’
‘In Austria?’
‘Of course,’ nodded Braun.
‘I never heard of it,’ Joe told him.
‘We live a quiet life here,’ said Braun. ‘Maybe a little cut off from the rest of the world.’
‘Not a bad idea’ Joe said.
‘More whisky?’ Braun asked as Joe emptied his glass.
Joe looked a little uncertain.
‘Please,’ said Braun. ‘You are staying here for the night. ‘You should relax a little. We have much to talk about. Enjoy your evening.’
Joe shrugged and held out his glass. Braun poured a good measure into Joe’s glass. ‘Easy,’ smiled Joe. Braun topped up his own glass and sat opposite Joe. Bruno sat brooding in a high backed armchair.
‘So tell me,’ said Braun, ‘how long have you known George Bishop?’
‘Just met him a couple of days ago,’ Joe said.
‘You must have made quite an impression,’ said Braun.
‘You think so?’
‘He trusted you with a very important package.’
‘CDs?’
‘Yes, but very important CDs,’ Braun told him. ‘I am grateful that you delivered them safely.’
The conversation lapsed into polite small talk for a few minutes. Joe asked about Eichl although he wasn’t particularly interested. He told Braun about his job situation in England. Braun sympathized as he topped the drinks up generously yet again. Joe was feeling the effects of the drink but decided he would sleep all the better when he finally got to bed.
After about twenty minutes the door opened and Elsa pushed a large trolley laden with food into the room.
‘Ah, Elsa,’ Braun beamed. He stood up and indicated the table. ‘Time to eat,’ he said to Joe. ‘Joe has been telling us about his life in England,’ Braun told Elsa.
Elsa smiled at Joe as she placed several large dishes down the centre of the long table.
‘Please take a seat Joe,’ said Braun. ‘You are about to taste some of the finest food in the whole of the Salzkammergut. You don’t mind if I call you Joe?’
‘Most people do,’ Joe smiled. The whisky had definitely cheered him up. He sat where Braun indicated. Bruno sat opposite him and Braun sat at the head of the table.
Elsa put soup dishes on the table and served a thick soup.’
‘Smells good,’ Joe told Elsa.
‘It is just a vegetable soup, with a few spices added,’ she told him. ‘I hope you like it.’
‘I’m sure I will,’ Joe said.
Braun smiled contentedly at Joe. ‘Elsa has a way of making ordinary food quite extraordinary,’ he said.
‘I see what you mean,’ Joe said as he tasted the soup.
Elsa smiled and sat down opposite Braun to eat her soup. She asked Joe about England and told him that she had visited London but nowhere else in Britain. Braun, it turned out had visited George Bishop on several occasions and knew Birmingham quite well.
Bruno sat in silence the whole time, frequently fixing on Joe with his cold eyes. His expression suggested that he wasn’t enjoying Joe’s company too much. Joe couldn’t help himself. He puckered his lips and blew Bruno a kiss in a moment when Braun and Elsa were talking to each other. He didn’t know what was in store for the rest of his short visit, but he decided he would wedge a chair against his door when he went to bed in case Bruno decided to pay him a late night visit. He wasn’t too happy at the thought of the return journey to Salzburg, if Bruno was to accompany him. Maybe he could persuade Elsa to come along for the ride.
Elsa removed the soup dishes and placed a large plate in front of each of them then removed the lids from the dishes down the centre of the table. Steam rose from the food. The smell tantalized Joe’s taste buds.
Elsa ladled something that looked like steak in very thick aromatic gravy onto Joe’s plate. ‘Please help yourself to vegetables,’ she said to Joe.
‘Zwiebelrostbraten,’ said Braun. ‘A very popular dish in our country but Elsa brings something a little extra to it. What she does, I don’t know. It is her secret.’
Elsa smiled shyly at Joe.
He helped himself to potatoes, beans and dark green cabbage before tasting the meat. It was everything Braun had predicted. He grunted with pleasure and smiled at Elsa. ‘Your Father’s right about your cooking. This is amazing.’
Elsa smiled and blushed at the same time. Bruno looked from one to the other. His displeasure was almost tangible.
‘We must have wine,’ said Braun rising from the table. He went to a tall wine rack and selected a bottle of red wine. ‘We are not famous for our wine in this country,’ he told Joe. ‘But that is only because we keep it a closely guarded secret.’
Joe was already feeling intoxicated but Braun poured him a large glass of wine before he could protest. ‘What the hell,’ he thought as he raised his glass to Braun.
‘Prost,’ said Braun.
‘Cheers,’ Joe said, leaning forward to clink glasses with Braun and Elsa. Bruno also had a glass of wine but he just sipped it impassively.
Joe smiled in his direction. ‘Up your’s,’ he said, raising his glass to Bruno. Otto Braun smiled, apparently unaware of Joe’s veiled insult to Bruno.
The wine was excellent and the food more than lived up to the build-up Braun had given it. Elsa served apple strudel even though Joe protested that he couldn’t possibly eat another thing. More wine, then coffee followed. Finally, Braun insisted they should round the meal off with a brandy.
Joe leaned back in his chair. His head was swimming and he was wondering how the hell h
e was going to negotiate his way out of the room and upstairs to bed. He knew he had a serious problem. Apart from anything else, he didn’t even know where his room was. It seemed to him that Otto Braun and Bruno could handle their drink somewhat better than he could. They were smiling and chatting quite happily in German, only occasionally glancing at Joe. They certainly didn’t look anything like the way Joe felt, which was pretty dicey. Elsa had left them all to it after serving the coffee and had presumably gone up to bed.
He needn’t have worried about getting to bed. Braun had a surprise for him. He turned to Joe. ‘Are you feeling all right?’ he asked.
‘Never better,’ Joe lied.
‘You look a little the worse for wear,’ said Braun.
‘Been a long day,’ Joe told him.
‘I’m afraid it’s going to be a long night as well,’ said Braun. He turned and nodded to Bruno who immediately left the room.
Joe shook his head and focused his attention on Braun. ‘I think I’m ready for bed,’ he said. ‘If somebody would just show me the way.’
‘Not just yet,’ Braun smiled. ‘Would you like more coffee?’
Coffee sounded like a good idea, except that Joe needed to visit a toilet urgently and he wasn’t sure if his legs would get him there. Braun poured the coffee while Joe was trying to think of an answer. Bruno returned to the room seconds later, followed by the driver of the Mercedes. The man grinned at Joe like he was an old friend.
‘Karl, I’m glad you could join us,’ said Braun.
Joe made a decision and started to rise. ‘I really have to visit a toilet,’ he told Braun. He tried hard not to slur his words.
Braun nodded. ‘Of course. Bruno will show you the way.’
Joe swayed unsteadily towards the door. Bruno gave him a stony glance, opened the door and led him to a door halfway along the corridor. ‘In there.’ He pointed at the door.
Joe left him standing in the hall and went gratefully into the toilet. Bruno was waiting for him when he opened the door minutes later. He nodded towards the dining room and Joe walked back in that direction. His visit to the toilet had solved one urgent problem but it hadn’t cleared his head or steadied his legs.