by Jim Reeves
He walked, head down and shoulders hunched with his hands deep in his pockets. He remembered Betine telling him he needed more suitable clothes as they had left the plane. What would she think of him now? He had no idea where he might find somewhere to hide but he had to get out of the snow soon. It was late to be booking into a hotel. Joe wasn’t sure that was such a good idea anyway. Braun, seemed like somebody who might have a lot of influence in a small town. He might find it very easy to track down a lone Englishman in one of the local hotels. If not a hotel then where? He would play it by ear.
He hardly noticed the ferocious weather conditions as he hurried down the hill. The cold was striking through his saturated clothes but the feeling of relief at being out of the chair left him feeling strangely elated. He had covered maybe half a mile when he heard a car approaching slowly from behind. It was out of sight round a bend in the road but its tyres crunched noisily on the thick layer of snow. Joe blinked at his watch. Twelve-thirty. Could they have found out he was missing already? Maybe. He looked desperately ahead and saw the entrance to a driveway just a few yards away on the right. He shuffled quickly towards it and ducked out of view as the car rounded the bend on the hill behind him. He crouched down, ducking his head low. His efforts to hide seemed pretty pointless. If the occupants of the car were looking for him, they couldn’t fail to see his footprints leaving the road at that point. They would stop the car and come looking for him. But it would have been foolhardy for him to stay on the road and let them run him down. If they did stop, he could try to run but he knew he wouldn’t get very far. Then it would be back to the ice garden. Would they interrogate him before they killed him? Ask him how he got free? He hoped he would be able to remain silent but guessed that Bruno might prove to be very persuasive.
The car headlights swept the road as it cruised slowly down the hill. Joe held his breath and waited as it passed by the driveway. His heart pounded, every nerve was on edge. He wondered what his next move should be if the car stopped. Thank Christ! It didn’t stop. It continued its slow descent towards the town. As the sound of the engine faded, Joe rose cautiously and edged back towards the road. He peered back up the hill but visibility was bad and all he saw was a wall of swirling snowflakes. The only sound he heard was the wind coursing through the trees. He wondered how long it would be before they went to collect his frozen corpse from the chair. They would expect him to be deep frozen by now. Joe guessed it would be sooner rather than later. Braun wouldn’t want to risk Elsa seeing anything in the morning.
He tried to increase his pace and slipped and sat down on the snow. He scrambled up and tried again. He managed to stay upright by walking on the softer snow at the side of the road but his shoulder brushed snow clad bushes that hung overhead, cascading more snow down to hamper his efforts. His feet were numb. His whole frame was chilled rigid. His limbs were stiff and he walked with an awkward gait looking like a drunkard. His efforts, it seemed, would all be in vain. He couldn’t see how he would survive until morning in those temperatures whether he was tied to a chair or not. The buoyancy he had felt when he had first been released was fading fast as the full realization of the seriousness of his plight dawned on him. He was lost at night in the middle of nowhere, near a strange town in a strange country. He was tired, weak, cold and wet. Temperatures were well below freezing and falling fast. Snow was falling fast and furiously. The chances were that his tormentors would soon come looking for him. He desperately needed warm shelter until morning and had no idea where he might find it.
In spite of his spiralling optimism, he dragged his feet along and broke into a slow lurching jog. Thankfully no other cars travelled the road in either direction over the next few minutes.
He had covered maybe another three or four hundred yards when he came to a fork in the road. Joe stopped jogging too abruptly and sat down hard on the snow. The road that forked off to the right was little more than a narrow lane and had houses on both sides. Joe lay coughing on the road considering the options. It would be a good idea to get off the main road that probably carried most of the traffic into the town. But if his pursuers guessed that he might take the right turn they would follow and, at the speed he was managing, he would soon be caught. He could try to hide in a garden behind one of the houses but he wouldn’t last more than a few minutes in his condition. The cold wind whipped snow into his face, reminding him that a quick decision was needed. Either way, it increased his chances of avoiding capture. He opted for the side road as he scrambled to his feet. He was soon slipping and sliding down a steep hill past two or three houses. He met another junction in less than a hundred yards. Instinct told him that the left turn was probably the shortest way to the town but both roads ran downhill. He took the right turn and scooted along as quickly as he could. His spirits lifted slightly. Now the odds were swinging in his favour. His pursuers would have to make two correct guesses to stay on his trail. He still had big problems though. His breath rasped raggedly as he shunted himself along. His lungs hurt. His face and ears felt like they were on fire. Even with his hands deep in his pockets, his hands were hurting badly. His feet felt bad and he winced with every step he took. He had to find somewhere warm or risk freezing to death very soon.
The road continued on a downhill gradient. Joe passed more side roads but ignored them. There were houses on both sides of the road now and Joe guessed this must be the outskirts of the town. Snow was banked up against each side of the road leaving a narrow channel down the middle. After several more minutes, he reached the bottom of the hill and another junction. Another decision to be made. Based on the direction of the other downhill roads he had been on, Joe guessed the town centre must be to the left. A right turn might shake off his followers but might take him away from town and the railway station that Elsa had mentioned. Also, the chances of him finding some kind of shelter might be better closer to the town centre. He turned left and continued at a steady pace on the footpath at the side of the new road.
He had no idea what to expect. No plan. He just had to wait and see what awaited him in the town. He glanced at his watch. It was after one o’clock. Surely, they would be looking for him by now. Which way would they go? They might follow the road back towards Salzburg. They wouldn’t know that Elsa had given him directions. With Braun’s resources they would probably check in both directions. They would want to stop him at all costs. If Braun was paranoid before, he would be positively psychotic by now. He would do all it took to put Joe in a morgue. It occurred to Joe that there must be a police station in the town. Should he find it and ask for their help? Maybe they would be on Braun’s payroll? Now who was being paranoid? He decided the best option was to get the first available train or bus out of town. To Salzburg or anywhere else. It didn’t really matter where. Meanwhile, he was still cold and getting rapidly colder. Cold didn’t adequately describe what he was feeling. His pace was slowing as his breathing became more laboured. He could hear a river to his right now. He was on course. Suddenly, shops replaced houses to his left and there were streetlights. There were no more buildings to the right and he could see the river maybe thirty yards away. It was fast flowing and noisy. He was obviously getting very close to the town centre. He saw a footbridge that crossed the river but decided to stay where he was for the moment. Across the river the houses nestled close together, all were in darkness. He thought there might be more chance of finding somewhere to hide on this side. He wondered if he might have to do something slightly illegal to gain shelter. In movies they usually slipped a plastic card into a lock to gain entry. It always looked easy but Joe wasn’t sure he would manage it. He slipped and hit the pavement hard. The breath left his tired lungs in a rush and he lay gasping as snowflakes cascaded down onto him. He clawed his way towards a shop doorway and slowly pulled himself upright. His hip hurt but he didn’t think anything was broken. He wiped the snow off his face and staggered forward again. Things could only get better.
He saw another larger bridge about
one hundred yards ahead. This one looked like it carried traffic. He had slowed to walking pace now. There was no place to go for a while. He had to wait until morning. His eyes studied every doorway as he passed by. He wasn’t sure what he was looking for. Just an opportunity for easy entry. Across the river on the other side of the bridge was a hotel. It was brightly lit even at that time. Joe wondered if he dare risk checking in.
He suddenly heard the swish of tyres somewhere ahead. Headlights lit up the road and the bridge as a car approached along a road to the left. Joe ducked into a shallow shop doorway as the car arrived at the junction. It paused for several seconds as the driver presumably surveyed the area. Then it turned left and drove slowly alongside the river for several hundred yards before turning left again and disappearing from sight.
Even in the heavy snow, Joe had seen that it was a Mercedes. The same model that had brought him from Salzburg. He hadn’t seen who was driving the car but his guts lurched anyway. They were looking for him and were too close for comfort. He stayed rooted in the shop doorway for several seconds digesting that information. Afraid to step out into the open. From what Braun had told him the previous evening, Eichl was a small town. They would probably cruise round all night if they had to until they found him.
He had to move. Suddenly, the other side of the river seemed like a good place to be. Joe darted across the narrow road and scurried towards the bridge. He was about ten yards from the bridge when he heard another car approaching down the road towards the bridge. The headlights lit up the bridge as it got closer. Joe was out in the open. He would be caught in the headlights like a startled rabbit in two or three seconds. Five yards to his right, close to the bridge, was some sort of portakabin that apparently sold coffee and hot sausages during daylight hours. Joe dived towards it and threw himself full length behind it a second before the car reached the junction. Like the previous vehicle, the car paused for several seconds. Joe could feel his heart pounding against the snow beneath him. The car turned slowly right and took the road that Joe had walked along only a few moments previously. As it drove slowly by, Joe raised his head slightly and allowed himself a furtive glance. It was the SUV he had seen outside Braun’s house and, there could be no doubt, Bruno was driving. Somebody was sitting alongside him. Probably the gravedigger, Joe decided mournfully. They could keep this up all night and they were a lot warmer than Joe. He lay where he was, unsure what to do next. His idea had been to scour the town looking for some easy break-in so that he could hide until morning. That might not be such a good idea if Bruno and his boys continued their search. Even while he lay there he heard a car approaching again. He lay still but stared at the junction as the car arrived. It was the Mercedes again It took a sharper left turn this time and cruised along a different street. It looked like they were criss-crossing the streets, covering the whole town. Whichever way Joe went they would probably get him sooner or later. He had to stay off the streets.
He clambered to his feet with new found strength and ran for the bridge. He wanted to be across before any of the searching cars circled back. The bridge was wide enough to carry traffic in both directions with a pedestrian walkway on both sides. He kept low and hurried across the icy walkway. Twice he slipped and fell but each time he scrambled forward and continued. His breathing was painful. His face and hands felt like they were bleeding from the cold even though they weren’t.
He reached the other side of the bridge and ducked onto a gravel path that ran down alongside the river. He heard a car approaching again. This time the headlights lit up the length of the bridge as the car rolled slowly across. Joe curled up tight and bent low into the shadow of a buttress that helped to support the bridge. The car cruised by. Joe didn’t move or lift his head but thought it sounded like the Mercedes. That made him feel better, he didn’t want to get close to Bruno ever again. The car travelled slowly past but didn’t stop. It would probably come back that way quite soon, unless there was another bridge further along the river. Joe raised his head and looked around. The car had disappeared round a bend only fifty yards ahead. He got to his feet intending to follow in the same direction. He hadn’t taken leave of his senses but the hotel he had seen from across the river was in the next side street just a few yards away. He was going to try his luck there. He had no choice, he had to get out of the cold.
As he was about to step forward onto the footpath a second set of headlights illuminated the bridge. He moved back hurriedly, ducking deep into the shadow of a snow laden ivy that clung to the building overlooking the bridge. Seconds later the SUV approached slowly over the bridge. Joe let out an audible sigh of relief as it continued on its way without pausing.
He moved warily out from the shadows again, listening to the receding sound of the two cars. He had to move quickly before they returned. His heart skipped a beat as a hand gripped his shoulder.
‘Christ!’ he gasped as he spun round to face his latest adversary. He jumped backwards as he turned. His sudden movement on the icy surface threw him off balance and he fell hard against the buttress behind him.
It took him half a second to see that it was an attractive woman and another half a second for him to realise what her profession was. She was heavily wrapped in a snug fur coat. A hood protected her head from the falling snow. She smiled a painted smile that looked friendly enough. She was maybe twenty years old. Not much more. Her eyes had the tired look of someone much older. Maybe it went with the territory.
‘You are English?’ she asked with the slightest trace of an accent.
‘That’s right.’ His voice was a harsh whisper. His heart was still racing. His chest rose and fell as his lungs protested against the night air.
‘You having fun?’ She looked amused.
‘What?’ Joe frowned. He wasn’t in the mood for jokes and wanted to be on his way.
‘I’ve been watching you play hide and seek with your friends,’ she told him.
‘They’re no friends of mine.’ He coughed as the cold wind jabbered at him.
‘No. I could tell.’ She smiled and looked him up and down. ‘You look cold.’
‘Freezing,’ he nodded as he dug his hands deep into his pockets.
‘You want to come back to my place?’ she asked.
Joe hesitated. Here was a solution to his problem. One he hadn’t considered.
‘How much?’ he asked, guessing he might not like the answer.
‘Two hundred Euros.’
Joe frowned.
‘I give you a good time,’ the woman assured him.
‘Maybe, but I probably haven’t got enough,’ Joe told her.
‘How much have you got?’
Joe pulled the crumpled Euros from his pocket and fingered through them. ‘One hundred.’
The woman considered for a moment. ‘OK,’ she said, taking the money from Joe’s hand and pushing it into her bag. ‘We go.’ She stepped past Joe. ‘Come.’
Joe was about to follow when he heard the sound of approaching vehicles from around the bend. He grabbed the woman’s arm and pulled her back into the shadows. ‘Wait,’ he whispered.
She turned towards him and moved in close, smiling. Her back was to the road. He smelt her perfume but it had a cloying effect. He thought he might gag. Maybe it was just his state of mind. Both cars passed by in convoy. Joe watched as they crossed the bridge. At the far side, they parted ways. The SUV turned right. The Mercedes turned left. Joe relaxed slightly. The woman smiled at him. ‘All clear now.’
‘What’s your name,’ asked Joe.
‘Magda,’ she smiled. ‘Come with me. I take you to heaven.’
Chapter 20
They left the shelter of the building, turned right and followed the footpath around the bend and up a slight incline. After fifty yards or so they reached a narrow alley on the right that ran steeply upwards.
‘This way,’ Magda’s voice was a whisper as she turned into the alley. It seemed she was sensing the gravity of Joe’s situation and cap
turing the mood. Joe was relieved to see several steps just a few feet into the alley that made it unsuitable for vehicle access.
Magda turned left at the top of the steps. Joe followed. They were facing a small door under a canopy. Magda used a key to open the door and stepped inside. ‘Come,’ she said. Joe didn’t need the invitation. He was right behind her.
They entered a small hallway. Magda removed her coat and hung it behind the door. Then she pushed open a door that led to a small living room. Joe stepped into the room and looked around. It was small and dimly lit with old furnishings. In one corner was a narrow settee that looked slightly battered. Joe guessed it had probably seen quite a lot of action in its time. Most important of all, the room was warm. Maybe he would live after all. There was a small window. Joe looked outside and saw the street below that they had just walked along.
‘What is this place?’ asked Joe.
‘Rooming house,’ Magda told him. ‘I rent this floor. Take off your coat,’ she said. She looked at him. ‘Maybe you should get out of those wet clothes, also.’
Joe shook his head and pulled the raincoat tightly around him. ‘I feel safer with them on.’
‘I won’t hurt you,’ she smiled.
‘I’m thinking more of the blokes outside. I might need to make a quick getaway.’
‘You like schnapps?’asked Magda.
Joe grimaced. ‘Not much.’
‘Whisky?’
‘Sounds better,’ he nodded.
She poured him a large drink and handed it to him. ‘Why were those men looking for you?’
Joe considered his answer. ‘I think the man they work for wants to have a chat with me.’
‘Otto Braun?’