by Jim Reeves
‘Otto Braun really wanted you dead?’ she asked, a little incredulously, when he had finished.
‘Said I was a loose end he needed to get rid of,’ Joe nodded. ‘It seems like he has something to hide. Do you know him?’
‘I know of him,’ said Betine. ‘He is a well-respected man in this town.’
‘I can imagine,’ Joe said. ‘Looks like he’s worth a bob or two.’
‘If that means he is rich, I think so.’
‘You live in Eichl?’ asked Joe.
‘I was born here,’ Betine nodded.
‘I can’t believe it. I didn’t expect to see you again,’ Joe said. ‘Of all the stores, in all the towns. Do you run this place all on your own?’
‘No. I usually have my colleague Heinz with me,’ Betine told him. ‘But he is not working today. Probably just as well, I think.’
‘Pity I didn’t get the taxi with you the other night,’ Joe said. ‘It would have saved me a lot of trouble.’
‘You should get out of those wet clothes,’ Betine told him.
‘Seems like I chose the right place to do that,’ Joe said. He pulled his saturated wallet from his pocket and checked the plastic cards. ‘I don’t know if these things work when they’re wet.’ He found the soggy Euro notes. I think there’s only about two hundred there. Will that be enough?’
Betine smiled for the first time. ‘I will give you a staff discount. That should help.’
She looked him up and down for several seconds then left the room. She returned a few minutes later with an armful of clothes. She had brought everything. Thermal underwear, a shirt, a sweater, cord trousers, a fur lined zip-up jacket, socks, heavy boots and a woollen hat. She put the clothes on the table. ‘I think these will fit and they are certainly more suitable than the clothes you are wearing. You can use the rest-room. There is hot water and a towel in there.’ Joe gathered the clothes up and went to the door that she indicated.
When he emerged fifteen minutes later, Joe felt and looked like a new man. It would take him a while to get the chill out of his bones but the warm, dry clothes helped a lot and made him feel like he was ready to take on the world. Bruno might be a different matter though. Nevertheless a quiet anger simmered inside Joe as he gathered his thoughts. He had been well and truly set up when he’d been sent on the errand to Austria. No wonder Vince had thought it was such a big joke when he dropped him off at the airport. He’d been kicked from pillar to post, hounded and treated like a piece of garbage for no other reason than he was considered an inconvenience. What had Braun called him? A nonentity.
Betine bundled his wet clothes up and dropped them into a plastic bag. Then she poured him another hot coffee and they sat talking in the back-room. He asked what he owed her for the clothes and handed her some soggy Euro notes. She seemed more relaxed now and, thankfully, seemed to believe his story. She told him more about her life in Eichl. He was foolishly pleased to learn that there were no men in her life at that moment, though he wasn’t sure why that should make any difference to him. He told her ruefully about his attempts to become a private detective and how George Bishop had persuaded him to deliver the package to Austria. Occasionally she had to break off to serve a customer. Eventually, she explained that she would soon be closing the shop and suggested that Joe should stay put for a while in case Bruno was still on the lookout for him. If Bruno was around, there would be nothing odd about her closing up and he would most likely turn his attentions elsewhere. She would return soon afterwards and enter through the back door that was accessed from the alley that Joe had passed along while running away from Bruno. They could leave the same way and walk to her apartment across the river. She looked at him appraisingly. ‘No one will recognize you in those clothes. You look like an Austrian. They won’t expect you to be walking with a woman. We will look like a married couple on our way home.’
Joe smiled and nodded, ‘OK.’ He stayed in the back-room when Betine closed the shop a few minutes later.
Joe drank another coffee and sat enjoying the warmth of the room and the comfort of the easy chair while he waited for Betine to return. He felt as though he might finally escape the clutches of Bruno and his friends. Betine had been right. They would be looking for a man alone. And his appearance had certainly changed with his new clothes.
Tiredness overcame him and he was half asleep when a noise jerked him back to sudden consciousness. Somebody was at the front door of the shop. His nerves were immediately taut and his heart broke into a gallop as he heard the shop door open. This wasn’t part of the plan. Betine had said that she would return via the rear entrance. It couldn’t be Bruno. He would have had to break the lock to get in. Whoever this was had used a key.
Joe switched off the light, moved quickly to the door of the back-room and opened it slightly. A well-dressed young man was in the store. He closed the front door behind him and crossed the floor towards the back-room. Betine’s colleague Heinz, Joe guessed.
Joe darted across the room and slipped into the rest-room seconds before Heinz entered the back-room and switched on the light.
Joe listened with his ear to the door. Heinz seemed to be moving about the room. Joe heard a cupboard drawer open. Maybe he had just forgotten something and had come back for it. Joe hoped he wouldn’t decide to use the rest-room.
A loud knocking at the front door interrupted Joe’s thoughts. Heinz stopped whatever he was doing and went to answer the door. Joe crept across the back-room to peer through at the front door of the store.
Heinz opened the shop door to reveal Bruno glaring angrily at him. An angry conversation ensued. Bruno asked why Heinz had entered the store when it was closed. Who else was in there? Heinz told him to mind his own business and that he should go away. A very bad move. Bruno thrust a gun into Heinz’s face and forced him backwards into the store.
Heinz’s mood changed immediately and he understandably became more co-operative. He explained to Bruno that the store had closed half an hour ago. He had returned to collect a book that he had left in the desk in the back-room.
Joe sank back away from the door as Bruno looked towards the back-room. His legs felt like jelly as he moved towards the rest-room. He stepped inside, pushed the door closed and waited in the darkness. His pulse raced when he heard Bruno’s voice just a few feet away as he surveyed the back-room. Heinz was telling him that the place was empty. His colleague had left for the day. Joe knew that Bruno would check the rest-room. He would have no resistance to offer. He would probably die where he stood. He heard footsteps and the floorboards creaked as somebody crossed the room outside.
A mobile phone rang. Bruno answered it and spoke rapidly. The sound of his voice suddenly receded. He was obviously leaving in a hurry. Maybe Meat Loaf or Karl thought they had a line on Joe somewhere else. Whatever the reason, the shop door suddenly slammed and Bruno was gone Joe stayed where he was, trying hard to stifle his cough. After maybe another sixty seconds, he heard Heinz switch off the back-room light. A few more seconds passed and he heard the shop door open and close. A key turned in the lock. He hoped that Heinz had finally gone on his way.
Chapter 25
Joe stayed where he was in the darkness, afraid to move. The silence was oppressive, like a dark cloak hanging over him. He stood where he was for maybe ten more minutes until he heard a key in the lock of the back door. It had to be Betine this time but he opened the rest-room door an inch and waited.
Betine pushed the back door open and entered the back-room. She switched on the light and looked puzzled until Joe stepped out of the rest-room.
‘Why are you in darkness?’ she asked.
‘I had company,’ Joe told her. ‘A couple of visitors.’ He told her about the young guy. Betine confirmed it was Heinz from the description that Joe gave, but she couldn’t understand why he had come to the store on his day off. Joe told her that Heinz had called to collect something. He told her also that Bruno had paid another visit and would probably still be in the
vicinity when they left.
Betine had brought Joe some bread rolls as she guessed he must be hungry. He ate them ravenously. As soon as he had finished he pulled on the fur lined jacket, hat and gloves that Betine had supplied.
‘Time to go,’ he said. He tried to sound light hearted but that was the last thing he felt.
Betine opened the back door and they stepped outside into the cold night air. Joe was better protected than before but the cold was still a shock and he hunched his shoulders. Betine locked the door then took his arm and they walked along a short path that took them to the alley. They turned left and walked back in the direction that Joe had run earlier. It felt strange to be returning that way after all his efforts to escape. He hoped he wouldn’t run into the Chinese lady or her husband. They reached the end of the alley and Betine guided him to the right towards the bridge that crossed the river.
They had covered only a few more yards when Joe saw Meat Loaf loitering in a shop doorway across the street. He seemed to be watching everybody who passed by. Betine felt Joe suddenly stiffen. She looked at him and saw the tension in his face. Immediately, she stopped and pointed at the window of a dress shop as though interested in what was inside. ‘What’s the matter?’ she asked anxiously as they stood facing the window.
‘Big bloke, across the street. He’s one of them,’ Joe told her in a hoarse whisper.
‘Keep looking at me,’ Betine told him. ‘He won’t recognize you.’ She hugged him and pecked him playfully on the cheek as they continued on their way.
All the time, Joe expected to hear a shout from behind. Nothing happened.
‘You done this before?’ asked Joe as they reached the bridge.
‘Thankfully, no,’ said Betine.
‘You seem pretty good at it.’
They crossed the same bridge that Joe had scurried across the night before, reaching the place where he had met Magda. Then they passed the hotel where he had spent half the night in the underground car park. As they walked up the hill, Joe realised they were approaching the alley that led to Magda’s apartment. He held his breath and hoped they wouldn’t turn into the same alley. He also hoped he wouldn’t run into Magda. He had no doubt at all that she would scream to the heavens if they came face to face.
Thankfully, they passed by the alley and there was no sign of Magda. Joe guessed that his earlier assessment was correct. She probably wouldn’t work for a while after the punch he had delivered.
‘Not much further,’ Betine whispered encouragingly. Joe hoped it would be quite a lot further, well away from Magda’s apartment.
They passed a driveway that led to the hospital he had seen the night before. About two hundred yards further on, Betine steered Joe towards the doors of a modern apartment building. She used a key to open the door and they entered.
Betine lived on the second floor. Her apartment was all pine floors and modern furniture and, most important of all, it was warm. There was a bookcase full of books. Joe recognized some of the authors even though the titles were printed in German. He stood awkwardly for a moment, uncertain of what to do.
‘Take your coat off. Sit down,’ smiled Betine. ‘You can relax for a while now.’
Betine took Joe’s coat and hung it in the hall. ‘Would you like a drink?’
‘Coffee would be good,’ Joe nodded.
Joe sat down while Betine brewed the coffee in the kitchen. She entered the room
with two steaming mugs. ‘Do you like goulash?’ She asked.
‘Goulash would be great,’ Joe smiled.
The telephone rang. Betine answered and spoke softly in German. Joe tried not to listen although, with his sketchy German, he couldn’t pick up too much of the conversation anyway.
‘My mother,’ smiled Betine when she put the phone down.
‘Is there a problem?’ asked Joe.
Betine shook her head. ‘She calls most nights for a chat. She still thinks I am her little girl.’
Betine prepared the meal while Joe relaxed on the long low settee. He had drifted off to sleep when she brought in a steaming bowl of goulash. She woke him gently and he joined her at the table.
‘You have to decide what to do next,’ said Betine as they ate.
‘I want to fly home but I need to talk to Otto Braun first,’ Joe said.
‘That would be very foolish,’ Betine told him. ‘He is obviously very dangerous.’
‘A man I hardly know, robbed me and has been trying to have me killed for the last two days,’ Joe said. ‘I’m not too happy about that. I’d like to know why.’
‘You should just go home as quickly as you can,’ Betine told him anxiously. ‘Avoid Salzburg if they expect you to go there. You can fly from Linz or even Vienna. I can drive you there myself.’
‘Salzburg is fine,’ Joe said. ‘But not before I meet with Braun.’
‘Why?’ asked Betine. ‘It is madness.’
‘You’re probably right,’ Joe agreed. ‘But he’s got my passport. I need it to get home. Also, for all I know, his people might follow me to England. I need to get it sorted.’
‘Go to the police,’ said Betine. ‘Tell them you have lost your passport. They will help.’
Joe looked doubtful. ‘I’m not too sure about that. They might be friends of Braun’s.’
Betine continued to argue and eventually Joe relented a little. ‘I’ll check out the station tomorrow. If they’ve given up and gone away, I’ll get on the bus to Salzburg then go to the police and tell them I’ve lost my passport. They won’t even know I’ve been to Eichl. But if Braun’s boys have still got the place staked out then I’ll have to talk to Mister Braun. I don’t know what else I can do.’
Betine still wasn’t happy but she could see that Joe was determined. He decided he would need at least another twenty-four hours before flying home. Betine used her computer to book him a morning flight, two days ahead. If he got to Salzburg any earlier, he would spend the night in a hotel. Joe was pretty sure, in his own mind, that he would have things to sort out in Eichl before he finally left.
He used his mobile to call Fish in England. He kept the conversation brief but asked if Fish could meet him at Stansted Airport. He gave the flight details and hung up before Fish could badger him with any questions.
Betine and Joe sat at opposite ends of the large settee where they chatted for a couple of hours as they drank their way through a couple of bottles of wine. The conversation was mainly about their lives and previous relationships. Betine laughed a lot at his jokes which made him feel good but Joe couldn’t help feeling that his track record of two failed marriages made him sound like somebody to be avoided at all costs.
As the evening wore on, Joe grew increasingly nervous. They were chatting like a couple of kids on a first date. He was aware that he, at least, was delaying the moment when they would say goodnight. This night might be the only time they would ever have together and he wasn’t sure how to play it. His conversation became hesitant as he chose his words with increasing care, anxious not to say anything that might be misconstrued or cause concern. Betine was friendly, kind, warm and attentive but the truth was, she was way out of his league. He was pretty sure that any move on his part would only seem clumsy maybe even ungrateful.
Betine seemed to sense what he was thinking. She smiled and moved closer to him. ‘You’re a nice man Joe.’ She kissed him on the cheek. He turned his head slightly and kissed her lips. She didn’t seem to mind. Within seconds, they were entwined and kissing intensely. Joe let Betine make the running. He was still unsure of how far to go. She seemed to be doing pretty well without his help and pulled him close.
The spell was suddenly broken when the telephone rang. Betine sighed and looked at the time, before rising to pick up the phone. She spoke in German for a minute or so before replacing the phone. ‘My Mother,’ she told Joe ruefully. ‘Wishing me goodnight.’
‘She do that every night?’
‘Pretty much.’
The mome
nt had passed. Betine didn’t return to sit beside Joe. He sat a little awkwardly, not quite sure what to do. ‘Would you like another coffee?’ asked Betine. Joe nodded and she went through to the kitchen.
‘Maybe I should leave,’ Joe said as he sipped his coffee.
Betine smiled. ‘Not before morning.’
‘Would your Mother approve of you having a strange man staying the night?’ asked Joe.
‘Are you strange?’ Betine asked.
‘Some might say so,’ Joe nodded.
‘My Mother probably wouldn’t approve. But in the circumstances . . . .’ She let the words trail.
They finished their coffee. Betine left the room and returned with a blanket and a pillow. ‘Will the settee be all right for you?’ she asked.
Joe nodded ruefully. ‘Beats a car bonnet.’ Although it wasn’t quite what he had had in mind.
Betine left him to settle down. Joe lay on the settee and tried to forget about her lying in bed in the next room. He didn’t succeed and spent a night sleeping fitfully and dreaming about Betine flying to England with him. They made the flight several times but never seemed to arrive. He was dreaming about Bruno and half the inhabitants of Eichl chasing him through the streets, when Betine woke him with a smile and a steaming mug of coffee. ‘Breakfast in five minutes,’ she told him. He sat up groggily, feeling mildly shattered and aching all over.
The coffee gave him the kick-start he needed. He did the bathroom business then returned just as Betine sat at the table. They hardly spoke over breakfast. What they did say was pretty inconsequential. Betine seemed subdued. Joe’s mind was occupied by what was to come in the next few hours. If things didn’t go well, this day could be the last day of his life and he knew the odds were stacked heavily against him.
Betine had to go to work in the shop as usual. They both agreed that would be best. Any change in routine might attract unwanted attention. Joe planned to stay in the apartment until early afternoon. Then he would check out the bus station. If it was all clear he would get the next bus out of town and head for Salzburg. If the bus station was still under surveillance then Plan B would be invoked. Joe had no idea what Plan B would entail. He would be playing it by ear every second of the way.