Best Man

by Doug Raber

  I thought the question would catch her off guard if she were attempting to deceive me in any way, but she answered calmly and without hesitation.

  “It was part of my instructions. If I could not make contact with you at the reception, I would come to you at the Hotel Bristol. This is what I do but for different reason. When I crossed the Ringstrasse they began to walk faster. They would catch me. So, I decide to run. It is when I heard the sound of a pistol. Small pistol. The sound was pop-pop, not big bang-bang.”

  “But you weren’t hit?”

  “I think maybe. I looked in elevator. I find hole in sleeve.”

  She showed me her coat, and there was a hole in the fabric just below the shoulder.

  “Let me see the back.”

  She stood and turned around. There was a second hole on the back of her coat. A bullet had entered there, passed between her body and her arm, then exited through the front of the coat.

  “You were very fortunate. A few inches this way …”

  She understood.

  “Yes. I know this.”

  “Why were they after you? It wasn’t the police. They would have stopped you in the open.”

  “Not police. At least not Vienna police. This was Romania. Secret police. The Securitate. I hear them call to me. ‘Oprește-te!’ he yells. Stop! Like in movies. ‘Stop or I shoot!’ I change my direction behind trees in the boulevard. It is maybe why I am still alive.”

  “Why would Securitate be after you?”

  “When American government recruit me, I was in Bucharest. They learned of our activity, and I escape. I came to work here in Vienna, but maybe it is not far enough.”

  “I will help you get away from Vienna.”

  When I said that, her entire demeanor changed. She had been reacting to the threat, ready to do whatever was necessary to survive. She had hardly seemed shaken by nearly being shot. But now I had taken the burden from her, and the fear was evident. She retained her outward composure, but I could see she was highly distressed.

  I needed to formulate a plan, and I was only beginning to outline my objectives. Whatever came next, Monika needed rest so she would be able to give her full participation.

  She seemed certain that the threat was from the Romanian secret police, but there was the possibility she was wrong. If somehow, her assailants made any connection to me, we would be easy targets in this hotel room. That part of my strategy came easily, and I motioned for her to be quiet as I picked up the telephone.

  The desk clerk answered. “Hotel Bristol. Good evening.”

  “Please connect me to Herr Otterstein.” He was the manager, and we had chatted many times when I stayed at the Bristol.

  “This is Otterstein.”

  We exchanged pleasantries, and then I spoke with intensity.

  “I have a request that must be followed with the utmost discretion, Herr Otterstein.”

  “Of course, Mr. O’Connor.”

  “I wish you to provide another room for me. Not to replace this room. In addition. It must be a suite. I need it immediately. And there must be no connection to my name. None whatsoever.”

  “One moment.”

  He returned to the phone within twenty seconds.

  “It is taken care of. Room four-one-seven. I can meet you there.”

  “It would be better for you to bring the key to me here.”

  “Three minutes.” He rang off.

  I waited in the hallway, and Otterstein arrived quickly. He extended his hand with the key and deftly palmed the large banknote I held in my own hand.

  “Thank you, Mr. O’Connor. The Hotel Bristol is pleased to help you in every way possible.”

  “Your assistance is appreciated, Herr Otterstein. To what name is the suite registered?”

  “The name in the hotel book is Herr Gustav. It is the name of my uncle. No one will think of you.”

  “I have an additional request,” I said. “If there are any inquiries about me, would you please telephone Mr. Gustav’s suite?”

  “As you request. Your privacy will be ensured.”

  He turned crisply and walked down the hallway to the stairs.

  “What are we doing?” Monika asked.

  “We’re changing to another room. Where no one will find us.”

  I put some toiletries and a change of clothing in a carryall and picked up both room keys. After checking that the hallway was empty, we took the elevator to the upper floor where our suite was located.

  “This room is quite beautiful. Much nicer than my room in the hostel.”

  “It is needed for our safety. Most important right now, you must rest.”

  I pointed to the bathroom.

  “A warm bath will help you relax. When you finish, there is a robe to keep you warm.”

  When she finished her bath, I gave her one of my sleeping pills. It would help her rest, and it would allow me to make my plans in privacy. I used these pills to overcome jet lag when I crossed the Atlantic, so I knew she would sleep soundly for the next six hours.

  • • • • •

  I was in a dilemma. Had it not been for my unusual and unexpected sighting of her that same day, I would have attempted to reach Pamela. But that was an impossibility. Whether she was in Vienna for some secret aspect of our mission, or if she was carrying out some competing operation in concert with the man who had accompanied her on the street, contacting her was an impossibility. I knew I must find an entirely different approach.

  I put in a call to Dieter Volkmann.

  Our method of contacting each other always involved a third person. The message I left mentioned neither his name nor mine, but Dieter would understand the importance of telephoning Herr Gustav as quickly as possible.

  The return call, appropriately screened by the hotel, came through within fifteen minutes. Dieter told me to meet him at a small wine bar near my hotel in one hour. I checked to make certain my guest was completely asleep, and I took a route to the wine bar that allowed me to be sure I was not being followed.

  “I can’t be sure they were Romanians,” I said. “But the hole in her coat is real. She was fortunate to escape a serious gunshot wound. She needs to get out of Vienna quickly.”

  “But you came to me. Why not your own people, Timothy? Something is wrong with this story.”

  “Yes,” I said. “but I don’t know what it is. How did they find her? Right after she gave me details of the American negotiating position. I’m worried that someone is actually after me, and Monika Treska is only a diversion.”

  “If your own people are involved, then it isn’t enough for her to leave Vienna. She would need to go completely out of Austria.”

  “I thought of that. But the closest border with Germany is almost one hundred fifty miles, and trains wouldn’t be safe for her. If they’re looking, they would certainly find an automobile taking her that far.”

  “There are other borders much closer,” Dieter said.

  “Those are all worse. Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Slovenia. To the east and the south would put her even closer to Romania. In places where their secret police may have operatives.”

  “Czechoslovakia is a different direction. It is north of Vienna. Away from Romania.”

  “But she would have to cross the frontier at least twice. Once from Austria into Czechoslovakia and then a second time to enter Germany. She doesn’t have papers for that trip. It makes no sense.”

  “Does it make sense that you came to me, Timothy? Instead of your own people?”

  I didn’t know how to answer.

  “You came to me, and the obstacles you describe are problems that I could solve. I could arrange for her to have papers. She would have no worry about crossing the borders of Czechoslovakia.”

  • • • • •

  I returned to the Hotel Bristol and retrieved some additional clothing from my original room before going up to the suite. Monika, as I expected, was still asleep. It was well past midnight by this time, and I lay
down on the bed next to her to get some sleep myself.

  The sun was up when she stirred, and I gave her a few minutes alone to wake up completely. She seemed slightly confused when I came back into the bedroom, and I thought she was probably feeling the lingering effects of the sleeping pill.

  “We are still here? Should I not be leaving? I want to be away from Vienna.”

  “I’m working on the arrangements, Monika. This afternoon, or perhaps this evening. You must remain here for today. Nobody will find you.”

  She looked at me sullenly. “I am hungry.”

  I touched her hand. “I’ve just ordered breakfast from room service. When they deliver it, you must stay here in the bedroom.”

  We had a lovely meal together, eating leisurely and sharing the pot of coffee. When we finished, I put our used dishes back on the cart, which I rolled into the hallway.

  “I must go out for a time, Monika. I put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the door, so the hotel staff will not present any difficulty. Under no circumstances should you answer the telephone. Similarly, I want you to throw the deadbolt, so that no one can come through the door, even if they have a key.”

  “And you?”

  “When I return, I will push the buzzer. You will say nothing, but you will look through the peephole. If you see me outside, unlock the door. Otherwise, you must remain quiet and stay away from the door.”

  “Are you saying that they would shoot? Through the door?”

  “I can’t be sure, Monika. But it is my responsibility to keep you safe.”

  In truth, I thought that any trespass into the hotel was highly unlikely, expecting instead that her pursuers would remain outside, carefully watching the exits of the building. At the same time, I thought that it would be good for her to remain afraid, so she would not be tempted to do any exploration beyond our suite of rooms.

  “I must now tend to some errands. It should take no more than one or two hours.”

  • • • • •

  I donned some clothing that would not mark me as a diplomat or even as an American. By good fortune, the weather had turned chilly during my visit to Prague several days earlier, and I had purchased a cotton jacket that, while new, was nevertheless a bit shabby. I took the elevator to the basement and left by way of a staff entrance, walking with a bit of a slouch. I had not shaved yet that day, and I mussed up my hair before walking outside. I looked nothing like my usual self.

  After verifying that I was not under surveillance, I went to a shop that sold women’s clothing. The prior evening, after Monika had fallen asleep, I examined the clothing she had worn, writing down the size shown on the tag for each article. The proprietor of the shop was extremely solicitous after I told her my wife’s luggage had been misplaced by the airline.

  I said I only wanted clothing for one day in the hope that the missing luggage would be found quickly, and we decided on a simple, rather plain dress that would be functional, while neither stylish nor eye-catching. My goal was to give Monika a working-class appearance, so she would not be recognized as the chic young woman I had first met the day before.

  After deciding on the dress, I explained with feigned embarrassment that I wished to purchase new undergarments.

  The proprietor smiled politely.

  She said, “We will find something pretty, so you both will feel better until her luggage arrives.” She led me to another counter in the store, where she made a choice of bra and panties.

  “I think your wife will be very pleased with these garments. They are lovely, and they are made in Austria.”

  I paid, and when I was ready to depart, I requested a second shopping bag.

  “If there are two, it will protect the merchandise better. I wish to be sure that it reaches the hotel safely.”

  In fact, I had another reason for my request. To complete Monika’s disguise, she would need a coat, and optimally, it would be very ordinary-looking. I knew an inexpensive department store where I could purchase a new one, but my preference was for something that was second hand.

  I walked in the direction of the train station, knowing that I would soon reach a rather shabby neighborhood. I studied the others walking along the street, and after a few minutes, I spotted exactly what I was seeking. A few yards ahead of me, as I walked through the gardens of the Belvedere Castle, was a woman who was approximately the same height as Monika and slightly heavier. It was perfect, but I had to be cautious.

  I approached her and spoke with the utmost politeness.

  “Excuse me, madam. I don’t wish to intrude, but I would like to ask your assistance.”

  The way she looked at me was not encouraging, but she did not immediately reject my request.

  “I am attempting to help my neighbor, a pensioner, who is by herself since her husband died last winter.”

  “How is that of any interest to me?” the woman asked.

  Her voice was cold, but it was more impatience than ill will.

  “She is not a woman of means, and last evening her coat was stolen while she was attending a concert.”

  “She has no means, but you say she attends concerts?”

  The woman looked around warily.

  “Are you attempting an extortion? Why have you accosted me?”

  The impatience had turned to suspicion and hostility.

  “Forgive me, please. I meant no disrespect. My neighbor attended a free concert at her church.”

  The woman turned and took a step away from me before asking incredulously, “Are you suggesting that you wish me to give her my coat.”

  It was progress, but she was still perturbed.

  “Madam, I wish only to propose a business opportunity. My neighbor is a very proud woman, and she would not accept money from me to purchase a new coat. But she needs one on a chilly evening, even in the summer months. I am searching for a way to assist her without making her feel as if she were begging for alms.”

  “But nevertheless, you want my coat?”

  She seemed puzzled, which was a considerable improvement from hostility.

  “What I propose, madam, is to offer you a very good price for your coat. Enough for you to purchase a new garment of excellent quality. At the same time, I would have your coat that I could give my neighbor, and I would tell her that I found it in the park. It is a solution to which she would not object. And you would wind up with a much nicer coat.”

  “How much?”

  The question was direct. The negotiation was nearly complete. I had seen a coat like this in the department store for the equivalent of about one hundred dollars. So, I offered to give her twice that, and she responded immediately by shrugging the coat from her shoulders. She didn’t hand it to me until I extended my hand with the agreed-upon sum of money, but she seemed satisfied with the transaction. Each of us had gained more than we had initially expected, so it was an example of a successful negotiation.

  I placed the coat in the second shopping bag, and by the time I finished that task, the woman was nearly out of sight as she walked hurriedly away. I don’t think she was afraid of me, although she might have had concerns that I would change my mind and ask to reverse our bargain.

  • • • • •

  I returned to the Hotel Bristol and went immediately to my room — my original room, not the suite. I had stopped there before going on my shopping excursion and tossed the bedsheets to make it look like I had slept there. I was pleased now to see that the housekeeping staff had made up the bed and cleaned the room. The fiction was being maintained.

  The negotiations would start that afternoon, but I had more pressing concerns, so I telephoned a colleague and explained that I was ill. He wished me well, and I said I would almost certainly be at the session the following morning.

  I also put through a call to Dieter.

  “All is in order,” he said. “This evening at seven-fifteen. A black Mercedes will be parked one block from your hotel. Use the side entrance and then turn left. The lights
will blink when they see you.”

  I put the ‘do not disturb’ sign on the doorknob and went up to the suite, where I knocked on the door and moved back so Monika could see me through the peephole. A few moments later the door opened, and I went in.

  “Thank God, you’re back, Timothy. I was afraid you would never return.”

  “It’s okay,” I said. “Everything is set for this evening. We must only wait.”

  “You have been shopping?”

  She looked at the bags I was carrying.

  “Most important is this coat.”

  I held it out for her, and she put her arms through the sleeves.

  “It is too large for me.”

  “No. It’s perfect. It will make you like someone else. Also, the coat you wore yesterday has the bullet hole. It is unlikely that anyone would notice, but you would have great difficulty explaining to a government official.”

  “Perhaps you are right. There is something else?”

  “Yes. A new dress. Not as fancy as what you were wearing. Again, it is part of making you look different.”

  She looked at me with annoyance but said, “Okay.”

  I said, “Let’s try on the other clothes to make sure they fit.”

  She took the dress from the bag and noticed the lingerie beneath it.

  “What is this?”

  “New undergarments.”

  She frowned.

  “Why? What is the reason for these?”

  “So that everything you wear will be from Austria. No ties to the United States and no connection to Romania. You will have papers that say what needs to be said, and you don’t have to tell anybody your personal history. This is all to keep you safe.”

  “Then I put them on to see.”

  She went into the bedroom and closed the door behind her. When she came back out, I thought she looked stunning. But it was only because I knew what to look for. And I knew what was beneath the plain and modest dress.

  “It looks very nice. But it is simple, and it will not attract attention.”

  She turned around like a model, and I smiled.

  “Please help me remove it. There is no reason to wear it the entire day. And you must see the lovely lingerie. Would you like that, Timothy?”