Her phone buzzed. She stopped, fished it out of her pocket, and stared at the screen. She hadn’t looked at it since she came in, but there were already five messages and phone calls, littering the display. All of them were from Lily. How had she not heard her ringing her, before? She’d had her phone on silent, but usually, she could feel the buzz.
She opened the series of messages and her eyes caught on the last message. Her stomach dropped: MOM. WHERE ARE YOU? IT’S AN EMERGENCY. CALL ME NOW.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Diana rushed out into the street and quickly dialed her eldest daughter’s number, fearing the worst. Lily was pregnant. Only about twenty weeks along. Was something wrong with the baby? As much as Diana dreaded the idea of being referred to as “Grandma” she couldn’t deny that she was thrilled about the coming addition, so thrilled, she vowed to fly back to the States, to welcome the little one to the world, the moment her eldest went into labor.
So at that moment, as the phone rang, Diana’s entire life as Grandma flashed before her eyes. The moment she found out and squealed with glee. The time she’d gone to the doctor with Lily and met the peanut on the ultrasound. The time she’d bought the baby a little frock in Verona. A week ago, Lily had just been beginning to show.
She couldn’t deny, though she had many destinations in Europe and things to do for herself on her bucket list, the baby was the thing she’d been looking forward to the most.
Annoyingly, the phone rang and rang, amping up Diana’s nervousness. What if Lily had gone into the doctor and was now being operated on? Frantic, Diana was just about to hang up and call Mick, Lily’s husband, when a completely unconcerned voice said, “Hello? Mom?”
“Lily!” she shouted, half-hysterical by then, half-relieved that Lily was still capable of speaking to her on the phone. “Are you okay? Did anything happen?”
“No, I am not okay,” she muttered. “Not in the least.”
Oh, no, Diana thought, despite the fact that Lily sounded okay, maybe there was something seriously wrong. “Is it the baby?”
She sniffled. “Yeah.”
Diana looked up at the sky and said a quick prayer. “All right. It’s okay. Whatever it is, you’ll get through it. What is it? Did you go to the doctor?”
“Yeah. That’s where we are now. I’m having an ultrasound.”
Diana’s heart skipped in her chest. They must have found an abnormality. Maybe it wasn’t so bad. There had been abnormalities with Diana’s ultrasound of Lily, too. She’d had gestational diabetes, and everyone told her that she’d have a huge baby, and she needed to be very careful to monitor the size of the baby so it didn’t get too big. Lily had been born at just under six pounds. So maybe they didn’t know everything.
She took a deep breath, trying to find the words to make her eldest feel better. “All right. Calm down. Exactly what did the doctor say?”
“Oh, they haven’t said anything yet. I’m in the waiting room, waiting to be called in.”
“Oh!” Diana hesitated, now thoroughly confused. “Um, so— what is wrong with the baby? Why are you having an ultrasound?”
“It’s just my regular, planned ultrasound,” she explained. “You know, twenty weeks? The problem is that I can’t get Mick to agree with me. The big, stubborn mule. It’s my body, right? So I should decide what we’re doing.”
“Back up. What are you talking about? Is the baby okay?”
“As far as I know, the baby inside my stomach is okay,” she said sourly. “But right now, the baby sitting right next to me is about to get his face smacked.”
Diana clutched at her heart. It was still beating madly in her chest. “What?”
“Can you believe he doesn’t want to know the baby’s sex? I told him I have to know! How else will we know how to decorate the nursery? I was thinking a Harry Potter theme. What do you think? But only if it’s a boy. Otherwise--”
Diana frowned. There had to be more to it than that. Lily couldn’t possibly be calling just because she and Mick were having a little argument that they needed her to settle for them. Did they really think this was an emergency? “Lily, you said it was an emergency. I thought something bad had happened.”
“Mom. This is bad. Catastrophic, in fact. I’m about to go into the ultrasound room and I want to murder the father of this child. That is not boding well for our future, don’t you think?”
“Lily. Have some perspective!” she practically shouted, only realizing she was talking loud when a couple of people on the street turned to look at her. Bea was her drama queen, but Lily also had her moments, especially when anything involving her health was involved. “You are all healthy. Hope that the baby is healthy. As long as it is, really, Mick’s right. The sex doesn’t matter.”
“I know, but—”
“But nothing. Lily. If you want to find out the sex, you can. But tell the technician to keep it from Mick. That’s all. Easy. Okay?”
“Yeah, I guess. But don’t you want to know? And what kind of man doesn’t want to know the sex of his own child? It’s like, doesn’t he even care about this baby?”
Diana rolled her eyes. She knew Mick to be the guy who cared so much, he’d proven it in all sorts of ways during their decade-long relationship. The two had been childhood sweethearts. But Mick had never had a child before, so he was learning as he went. It seemed only normal that they’d get into fights from time to time. Diana had quite a few similar disagreements with Evan. “Dear, he’s the kind of man who doesn’t care what sex it is, as long as it’s healthy. That’s a good thing. And of course, I want to know. But I’ll wait until you’re ready to tell me, all right?”
“Yes, but sometimes I just feel like—”
“I’d love to hear how things go. Remember, it’s normal to feel a little vulnerable, to have all those strong emotions during your pregnancy. We talked about this, right?” Before her daughter could answer, she added, “But I have a little too much on my plate right now to worry about settling an argument between you two. Just compromise. I know you two can do it.”
“Mom! You’re still in Vienna, aren’t you? What, am I disrupting your all-important sightseeing schedule?”
“I haven’t seen many sights at all, to be honest,” she admitted. “You see, there’s a murder investigation going on, with the police breathing down my neck, and—”
“What, again?” Lily sounded as though Diana had just missed a connecting flight somewhere—strangely nonchalant, as if this was only a minor annoyance, as opposed to something that could land her in jail for a long time. “You’re joking. You have to be joking.”
“Unfortunately, I’m not joking.”
“That sounds like a repeat of what you went through in Verona. What happened?”
“Well, I went to Musikverein last night, and the pianist was particularly good. I went into the back to tell him that I enjoyed his performance and found him dead. He’d been murdered. So naturally, they think I did it, since I found the body. It doesn’t help that I’ve been involved in other murders in Europe. They’re a bit suspicious.”
“I bet. You’ve been finding more dead people than living people, I think. I told you to stay away from ax murderers when you went out there. I had no idea you’d be accused of being one, yourself.”
“He was not chopped to bits with an ax, Dear.” There Lily went with her abundant ax murdering theories, again. “He was strangled.”
“Strangled? Well, same thing. That’s really brutal! Like you could do a thing like that. I can’t believe these people constantly think you’re responsible. What evidence do they have?”
Diana leaned against the café’s exterior in the shade of a tree. “Not very much, but I have a bit of a motive.”
“A motive? For killing a strange pianist? What possible motive could you—"
“I had an altercation with him prior to his death. And since I found h—”
“Mom! I knew you’d flipped your lid when you decided to go off on this vacation, but
now you’re provoking Austrian men? What’s gotten into you?
“Nothing! I—"
“I knew this trip would be trouble. What kind of altercation?”
“Oh, he was treating some of his young fans abominably, and had a bit of an ego. I couldn’t stand for it! What he did to this one little boy who was his fan . . . it was terrible. I just wanted to put him in his place. Not murder him. But of course, everyone saw the exchange, so I became suspect number one.”
“They don’t have anyone else?”
“Not that I know of. I’m trying to steer clear of the police . . .”
“You should. But what they have on you sounds really flimsy. Like you would even be able to do—” She cut off, and for a moment, Diana thought she might’ve lost the connection, until she said, “Stop it Mick. Come on. It’s not a big deal. It’s fine.”
“Is everything—”
“Yes. Mick just read something in a brochure about the dangers of eating cold cuts. He was upset because I ate a deadly turkey club yesterday at lunch. He thinks I’m going to get listeriosis. I don’t even know what that is!”
“Oh, well it can be bad for the baby. You should probably stay away from—”
She stopped when she realized Lily wasn’t listening. She was conversing with Mick, their voices muffled.
“He tells me it can be bad for the baby. So, fine. No more turkey clubs. I already have so many things that I can’t or won’t eat, because they gross me out. Now I’ll just have to add turkey clubs to the list.” She sighed. “So what else do the cops have, besides you fighting with the victim?”
Diana blinked at how quickly Lily could flit between subjects. She was always the business-minded one, good at balancing a lot of plates. “Let’s see. Not very much, except that I found him, in his dressing room.”
“You did? Gruesome! Wait . . . didn’t you find that other guy, dead in his dressing room, in Verona? What are the chances?”
Diana didn’t want to be reminded of that. Yes, it was an odd coincidence, and probably gave the police every reason to suspect her. She could just imagine the headlines: American Tourist Serial Killer Murdering European Performers Backstage! “Yes, I’ll admit it is strange. But that time, I was in the dressing room when the actor dropped dead. This time, I just found the man dead. I left for a while after the fight, and then I returned, but just to get my program signed. I found him lying on the floor, strangled with his cravat. They think that’s—”
“Hold on.” Lily disappeared again. Then she came back. “I’ve got to go. They want me in for the appointment. Hold on, Mick!”
Diana sighed. If it had been her youngest daughter, nothing would’ve torn her from the phone. Bea would’ve made time, because solving mysteries and batting about theories was her favorite activity. Bea had been her sidekick last week, and instrumental in finding the killer in Verona. She’d been like the Watson to her Sherlock, because of her love of Agatha Christie novels. Bea was an out-of-the-box thinker, so her theories had helped.
Lily’s mind didn’t work that way. She had a mind for business, which was why she ran a successful business as a realtor on Long Island. She was practical, careful.
Well, except when she’d nearly given Diana a heart attack with those text messages. That had been anything but careful. In fact, Diana was lucky she hadn’t passed out right on this Austrian street corner.
“All right. Good luck. Text me photos of the peanut! And give Mick my best.”
“I will. Bye Mom. And don’t do anything crazy. Just go along with whatever the police say and be careful! I don’t want you getting in any trouble! Especially with a murderer on the loose!”
“Of course. Believe me, I know how to handle the police by now,” she said, ending the call and letting out a sigh of relief. As for the murderer, well, I don’t even know who that is, right now.
I’m so glad the baby’s okay. Now that that all-important emergency fizzled, it’s time to deal with a REAL emergency.
Diana quickly thumbed in the name of the pianist, Gunther Graf. All she had to do was find out his address.
No information came up. But that was okay. Her good friend Dieter at the Musikverein box office would probably be able to help with that. After all, Gunther Graf had worked with the Vienna Philharmonic for thirty years. They had to have his address on file.
She smiled. I’m sure he won’t mind if I just stop by and ask a few questions.
But just as she took a single step in that direction, she looked up across the street and saw a familiar face, atop a muscular body that was thundering toward her. A familiar, terrifying face.
It was Officer Moser, and he did not look the least bit happy.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Diana shifted from foot to foot as the man approached, his face as stony and frightening as the Terminator himself. Next to him was a slightly shorter and leaner, dark-skinned man in a neat black suit and dark sunglasses. Talk about intimidating, Diana thought as the two men surrounded her, arms crossed over their broad chests. They were more than a head taller than her, blocking out the sun’s rays. Anyone on the street who witnessed it probably thought she’d done something really bad, that they had to use such manpower on little ol’ her.
“Mr. Moser,” she squeaked out, nodding at the detective first, and then the other man. “Hello. To what do I owe the pleasure?”
Moser motioned to the man beside him. “This is Marius Ugbodu, from Interpol.”
Diana stared. “Interpol?”
The man spoke in an impossibly deep voice, with a bit of a British accent. “Yes, Detective Moser was concerned about a murder you may have witnessed?”
She couldn’t help blurting out the first thing that came to mind. “Which one?”
She cringed. That probably wasn’t the best thing to say.
The two men exchanged looks. Ugbodu pulled a notepad from his breast pocket and said, “Let’s start with the first one. Where was that?”
“Paris. About a month and a half ago. At the Versailles costumed ball. A man was pushed from a balcony and—”
“I know of that one. It involved the robbery of the Madam Royale diamond, is that right?” Ugbodu said, looking up from his notepad.
“Right. The murderer was found, as was the robber. I had nothing to do with it. I mean, I was wearing the jewel for a time, and then I danced with the thief, but in the end, it was just a case of being in the wrong place at the wrong time,” she explained.
“As were you during the second murder?” Detective Moser asked.
She shrugged. “That one was in Verona. An actor. A member of his troupe killed him. Typical jealous actor. I had the misfortune of being in his dressing room when it happened. Poisoning.”
Ugbodu wrote this down. “And again, during this third murder, you were seen nearby?” He scratched his pronounced, square jawline. “This is a remarkable coincidence.”
“Not too remarkable, if you know me,” she said, her teeth chattering nervously as she tried to smile. “I don’t know what it is. I’ve been the queen of bad luck, on this trip, it seems.”
They didn’t return her smile. Not that she expected them to, by this time. She stiffened.
“Why are you here?” Ugbodu asked, his tone accusatory.
“Here? You mean, here on this street, or here in this country?”
He must’ve though she was being facetious, because his scowl deepened. “Both.”
“Just vacation. I’ve been taking a year-long holiday through Europe.”
“And none of this bad luck has convinced you to go home,” he mused, writing something down on his pad.
“Well, I guess you can say I’m a tough nut to crack.” She smiled again.
Again, they did not return it.
She sighed. “Look. I know it looks bad. But I promise I had nothing to do with any of this. I suppose you summoned Interpol to arrest me as some international threat, but I promise you, I—”
“No,” Ugbodu said. “As an em
ployee of Interpol, I work in accordance with the local law enforcement. I investigate possible connections and provide information. I don’t arrest anyone, Ma’am. That’s up to the local districts. But when we heard about you, we thought we should look into it.”
“Oh.” Somehow, that didn’t make her feel any better. “And what sort of information are you providing on me?”
He inhaled sharply. “I’m not at liberty to say.”
So that means that I have a file as a possible international terrorist, simply because I was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Thrice.
She looked at the detective. “Did you find anything else out about who could have killed Lukas Huber?”
He shook his head, his lips pinched. “No. But I did find that a certain American lady has been poking her nose where it doesn’t belong, interviewing people about the murder?” He shot her an accusing look. “I heard someone fitting your description was seen at the box office, earlier today.”
She couldn’t deny it. “I was not poking. Well. Not really. I’m just curious. Besides, you clearly think I did it. And you wouldn’t listen to any of my tips. You basically shut me down.”
Ugbodu looked at him curiously, as if to say, Is that true? Moser grunted. “Your tip was to investigate someone we already had on my list. We have a lot of leads, Ma’am. And that one was obvious. Do you have anything not obvious?”
She thought about telling them about Gunther Graf, but stopped. She didn’t really want to be told how obvious that one was. He’d been at the Vienna Philharmonic thirty years, only to be replaced by that wetback. He had a perfect motive.
“I guess not. And yet for all your leads, you seem to be spending a lot of time, questioning me. So pardon me, but if I can do something to find some clues to take the heat off me, I’m going to.”
He raised an eyebrow, clearly taken aback by her monologue. She smiled proudly. How’s that for standing up for yourself? Good job, tiger!
But then, Moser leaned in close to her ear and bit out the words, “Frau St. James?”
Vengeance in Vienna Page 12