The Spy Who Never Was

by Tom Savage

  The main complex of gray stone, white stucco, and tinted glass lay directly ahead, at the edge of the cliff, and it was V-shaped to conform to the space. A big, three-story central building was fronted by a wide glass entrance where the driveway ended in a roundabout, a fountain at its center. Two long, two-story wings angled forward at either side. The wings would be the rooms; two floors, four rooms on each floor for a grand total of sixteen patient residences. This sleek, ultramodern development faced the view of Lucerne and the surrounding green countryside below, the pale purple Alps beyond, and the blue sky rising up to infinity.

  Nora moved the car forward once more, taking in details as they approached. On the left of the complex stood another long, two-story building that looked like what it probably was, a separate residence for employees. Near the gazebo, wrought-iron tables and chairs were set on a patio under the trees for outdoor dining. A parking lot was off to the right near the tennis court, so she aimed for it.

  As she turned onto the branch of the road that led to the parking lot, she noticed people here and there. An elderly man with a cane was out for a morning walk, attended by a young man in blue scrubs. Two women sat at one of the iron tables, sipping coffee or tea from china cups. A young man lay in a patch of sunlight in the grass, reading a book; he looked over and smiled at Nora as the car passed.

  Nora parked in the nearest row to the buildings, noting about twenty cars, a small bus, and an ambulance. As she and Ida walked toward the main entrance, she looked over at the view beyond the cliff. Lucerne lay to the left in the far distance, and only the northern section of Pilatus was visible from here; the curve of the mountain cut off the rest. The sheer cliff face on which the clinic was situated created that floating illusion she’d noticed from the road, and the remote city and mountains seemed hazily insubstantial, even on this clear morning. This, Nora thought, must be how I’d feel if I were on a magic carpet. If I could pick the perfect place to spend my last days, it would be here. The final home, indeed.

  A beefy middle-aged man in a dark blue uniform greeted them at the sliding glass entrance. Nora assumed he was security, and she looked for a weapon, but all she saw was a nightstick. He smiled when he saw Nora’s companion, addressing her in the local tongue.

  “Hello, Oskar,” Ida said. “How nice to see you again. This is Madame Lanier, who speaks English.”

  “Hallo!” Oskar said, grinning.

  “Good morning.” Nora said, grinning right back.

  The reception area inside was a small but pleasant-looking place. A smiling young woman in a blue dress the same shade as Oskar’s uniform sat behind a counter, but Nora knew she wasn’t the person they were here to see. A tall, heavyset, sixtyish woman with short silver-gray hair and horn-rimmed glasses stood in the center of the space, waiting for them. She wore a classic European head nurse’s uniform: a midi-length navy blue dress under a full white apron with a white cap, collar, stockings, and shoes. Her air of authority left no doubt as to her identity.

  “Good morning,” she said. “You must be Frau Leydon and Madame Lanier. I’m Sister Wäldchen. Welcome to the Brandt Clinic.” Everyone smiled and shook hands, and a young man in blue arrived behind the head nurse. She spoke briefly to Ida in Alemannic, then translated in English, apparently for Nora’s benefit. “This is Tor. He will escort you to your brother’s apartment.”

  “Guten Tag, Tor,” Ida said to the man, who beamed at her. To the head nurse she said, “Tor and I are well acquainted, Sister.” She turned to Nora. “Let me know when you’re ready to drive back, yes?”

  “Of course,” Nora said as the young man led Ida away toward the west wing. When they were gone, Nora turned to the nurse. “Thank you for letting me come on such short notice, Sister—I’m sure you bent all sorts of rules.”

  “Not at all,” Sister Wäldchen replied, smiling politely. “I’m happy whenever our guests have guests.” Now her smile faded. “But I wasn’t entirely frank with you on the phone, madame, and for that I apologize. You might be disappointed by your visit, but I think it’s best if you see for yourself.”

  Nora frowned. “Disappointed? What do you mean?”

  Sister Wäldchen didn’t answer the question. Instead, she said, “Please, come with me.” She turned and led the way through the sliding glass doors on the interior wall.

  Nora followed her. Beyond the reception area was a big, open lobby with glass walls framing the spectacular view. Sliding doors directly ahead led out to a wide pine sundeck where an elderly woman in a bathing suit lay on a chaise longue, reading a glossy magazine. The nurse turned right and headed for an archway. Now they entered a hallway with two doors on each side.

  “These are our common spaces,” Sister Wäldchen said. “TV room, game room, library. The gymnasium and spa facilities are on the other side of the lobby. The floor above is for dining rooms and a kitchen, and the penthouse is the home of the director.” She proceeded to the final door on the right. “The dayroom.” She opened the door and held it for Nora, who passed by her and went into a pleasant room furnished and carpeted in light earth tones. The wall of glass at the cliff end abutted the sundeck, with the view beyond it.

  There was only one person here, a woman. She sat in a wheelchair in the center of the room, her back to the door, facing the view. Nora approached her from behind, walking around to stand between her and the glass wall. She turned to face the woman, gazing down at her. This was Chris Waverly; this was Rose. Here was Julie Campbell, at last.

  Nora stared. As Sister Wäldchen watched her from the doorway, she raised a hand to her mouth and sank slowly to her knees.

  Chapter 36

  The woman in the wheelchair wore a blue robe over a pink nightgown and fuzzy pink slippers. She was slender to the point of emaciation, with limp brown hair and translucent skin. Nora placed her age somewhere around forty, but it was difficult to tell. The staring green eyes and slightly parted lips in her gaunt face were frozen in a grimace. If she was aware of Nora’s presence, she gave no indication of it. She sat rigidly, her neck muscles straining, her fingers clamped onto the arms of the chair, gaping at the distant Alps.

  Nora studied the woman for a long moment before looking up, over her head, at the nurse, who now stood behind the wheelchair. She tried to speak, but could only manage a whisper. “She’s catatonic.”

  “Yes,” Sister Wäldchen said. “Kahlbaum Syndrome, a result of post-traumatic stress. She didn’t display it when she arrived here; it is a recent development. She has phases of stupor, as you see, but there are also normal times. She’s been like this since yesterday, before you called, and these phases last two or three days.”

  Post-traumatic stress. It wasn’t surprising, Nora supposed, considering the life Julie Campbell had lived for the CIA, but it didn’t answer the big question.

  “This is a hospice, Sister, not a psychiatric hospital. Why is she here?”

  The nurse gently smoothed a lock of hair back from the woman’s face. “Leukemia. It won’t be long now.”

  Nora lowered her gaze to the staring face. “Is there any way to talk to her? Can she understand anything?”

  “I don’t know,” Sister Wäldchen admitted. “But you can certainly try. You said you had a message for Julie. Tell her what you came to say. Perhaps Julie will understand you.”

  Nora thought about this for a moment. She considered asking the nurse to leave the room. Then she considered telling Sister Wäldchen everything. Finally, she merely reached out to cover the rigid knuckles with her hands.

  “Julie, I’ve come a long way to see you,” she said. “I know who you are, and I’m a friend. I lied to these people to get in here. I told them my name was Marianne Lanier, but it isn’t. I’m not going to lie to you; there isn’t time. My name is Nora Baron, and you and I work for the same people.”

  She watched the woman’s face for a reaction, even a glimmer. Nothing. She looked up, but the nurse was no longer standing there. She had discreetly withdrawn, moving over
to the glass wall and looking out at the view, but Nora sensed that she was listening. Nora squeezed the cold hands and continued.

  “I have a message from Yuri. He’s been injured; he’s in a hospital in Paris, but they say he’s going to be all right. He sent me to Sonya, and Sonya sent me to you. He wants you to know that he loves you. He asked me to tell you that. And he said something else: ‘Soon there will be three of us. I will change my life.’ I don’t know what that means, but I’m sure you will. He asked me to keep you safe, and I’ll try to do that.”

  Nora rose to her feet. She stood looking down at the woman in the wheelchair, making a decision. She would return to Alpenberg and brief Hall Kleiss and his young assistant. Amanda Morris would be coming here anytime now, and she’d probably have people with her. Nora would be waiting for them, but she wouldn’t be waiting alone.

  She looked over at the nurse. “Thank you for letting me see her.”

  Sister Wäldchen turned from the window and nodded, then led the way out of the room. Nora paused in the doorway, looking back. The figure in the wheelchair seemed so small and fragile, the opposite of what she’d been expecting. She followed the nurse to the lobby.

  “I’ll wait here for Frau Leydon,” she said. “Will you ask her to join me here when she’s ready?”

  “Of course, Madame Lanier.”

  Nora shook her head. “You know that isn’t my name. You heard what I told her.”

  Sister Wäldchen smiled. “You told her that in confidence, so I didn’t hear it. But tell me, what did you mean about keeping Julie safe? Is there something we should know?”

  “I’m not able to say, Sister. What you can do is keep Julie secure inside the facility. I met Oskar outside when I came in, and I noticed that he doesn’t seem to be armed. What is your security system here?”

  “Security? That sounds serious. Let’s see—we have alarms at the entrance gate and on all the doors and windows in the buildings. We have Oskar and three other men; they rotate in shifts, one at a time. They carry nightsticks, and there is a rifle in the security office. Oskar lives in Gans with his family, and Bruno commutes from Kriens, but the two younger men have rooms here, in the staff building.”

  Nora thought a moment. “Okay, for the next couple of days, I think your security men should double up and stay on-site, and they should carry the rifle at all times. Is that possible?”

  “Yes. I’ll inform Bruno—he’s the security chief.”

  “You mentioned the director of the clinic,” Nora said. “May I speak with him or her?”

  “Dr. Kringelein is in Zurich today—he and his wife will return on Monday.”

  Nora frowned. In other words, the clinic had a rudimentary alarm system, token security, and an absent leader. This was Switzerland, and high in the mountains at that. Crime wasn’t a big problem here.

  Sister Wäldchen said, “May I tell Bruno what we should be expecting?”

  “An intruder,” Nora said. “Possibly more than one. As far as I know, Julie is their only target. Tell Bruno to be alert.”

  The nurse was about to say something more, but Ida Leydon arrived in the lobby at that moment. Nora flashed a warning look at Sister Wäldchen, who nodded. They both managed to smile at Frau Leydon as she joined them.

  “Thank you again, Sister,” Nora said, and she and Ida went through the sliding glass doors. Nora looked back as they headed for the parking lot. Sister Wäldchen stood in the reception area, waving to them, but she already had a cellphone up to her ear. The woman didn’t waste any time. Good.

  Nora drove back up the driveway, and now she noticed the landscape above the main road. There was a forest here, dense and dark, on a steep hillside that crested a hundred feet above the road. A little building stood at the crown of the hill, a plain log cabin with a door and a small window just visible through the pines. Too small for a residence, it looked to be a power station or generator housing, or possibly some sort of outpost for the Swiss forestry service. Above the hill, a sheer rock face sloped up toward the mountain’s summit. She looked around the entire area between the two ridges that enclosed the valley, but there were no other structures anywhere. Good.

  She turned the VW onto the main road and entered the tunnel. They were halfway through it when a blinding set of headlights approached and sped by. Nora got a glimpse of a black van with blue lettering on the side, remembering the grocery truck from this morning. There definitely wasn’t a lot of traffic up here on the mountain, which would make any strange activity easier to spot. Good.

  She smiled to herself, thinking of her husband. Jeff had taught her some basic tips of defense and surveillance, and now she was using them. She reminded herself to thank him when she got home—which she hoped would be soon.

  “How was your visit with your brother, Ida?” she asked. “You didn’t spend much time there. I thought you’d be longer.”

  Ida Leydon sighed. “No; he is on strong medication, and his wife is with him. She is staying there, in his room. I am glad they have this arrangement. He was trying to entertain me, but he was dozing—that is the word, yes? So I will come back tomorrow. Did you see your friend?”

  “Yes,” Nora said. “She’s not feeling well today, so I only stayed a few minutes. Sister Wäldchen was very nice about it.”

  “Yes, she seems like a nice woman,” Ida said. “Much more pleasant than the last one.”

  Nora glanced over at her companion. “Is Sister Wäldchen new there?”

  “Yes. I have never met her before today. When I was last there in November, Sister Steiner was in charge, but no one liked her. They were already advertising for a new nurse, and now they have Sister Wäldchen. She is friendly, and she has such an unusual name. I must ask her if her family were fruit farmers.”

  “Fruit farmers? What do you mean?” Nora asked. They rounded the last bend, and there was Alpenberg.

  Ida smiled. “I am curious about family names—so many of them come from the family profession, yes? Farmer, Miller, Smith, Baker. I have never met anyone with the name Wäldchen before, so I wonder if they had fruit trees. Wäldchen is a small wood or—I cannot think of the word in English—a field of trees for the fruit, like oranges or apples.”

  “A grove,” Nora said.

  “Yes, that is the word.”

  They crossed the bridge and turned off the main road. Nora parked the car in the lot, and the two women walked into the town square. They were nearly to the entrance of Gasthof Kleiss when Nora suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

  “Oh!” she whispered. “Oh, for heaven’s sake!” She turned to her companion and smiled. “I don’t know about you, but I’m hungry again. Let’s see what Frau Gund has made for lunch.”

  Chapter 37

  The hills were alive with the sound of music. Nora was back in her favorite place, standing at the railing on the balcony outside her room, gazing down at the meadow. The sheep were at the far end of the gleaming lake now, grazing or milling about. A few were lying down, napping in the mid-afternoon sun. The shepherd and his shepherd lolled among them. The young man lay back against a tree trunk, belting out “Nessun dorma” from Turandot in a loud, clear tenor, and doing a rather good job of it. The sheep were unimpressed, but the dog approved. A lone hiker—a big, dark-haired man in the classic uniform of vest, shorts, knee socks, boots, backpack, reflective shades, and stocking cap—marched by at the edge of the ridge beside the road, headed uphill toward the clinic and Gans. He waved to the singing shepherd, who waved back, and continued on his way.

  Nora was working on her surprising new theory, ashamed of herself for having taken so long to arrive at it. She’d been so busy playing the efficient superspy today that she hadn’t noticed several obvious clues at the clinic, but she was thinking about them now.

  Meanwhile, there were facts and figures to consider. She’d made mental notes of the layout of the facility and its grounds, and she’d tried to count heads. She didn’t know how many patients were there at the moment,
but she’d seen six people who were presumably guests, and Ida’s brother made seven. Reception, lifeguards, stablemen, a kitchen and dining room staff, security guards, custodians, chambermaids, and a basic crew of medical attendants: She was placing the population there at about fifty. Many of these people probably commuted, but she figured there should be at least twenty-five in residence tonight.

  It would be tonight, she believed. Maybe tomorrow, but probably tonight. Daniel Fenwick had given up Sonya in Lucerne first—hence Chuck’s speedy arrival there. Chuck was supposed to have forced Sonya to give up Julie’s whereabouts, which told Nora that Daniel Fenwick had been able to hold off telling them himself. Perhaps he’d convinced Amanda that he didn’t know where Julie was, but Amanda thought her sister-in-law did. They wouldn’t have tried to capture Yuri, a man who could kill people with his bare hands. And even if they’d decided to chance it, he was out of their reach, unconscious in a hospital…

  As if reading her thoughts, the phone in her pocket buzzed. She’d been thinking about calling Jacques, and here he was, calling her.

  “There is some good news, mademoiselle,” he said after the usual greetings. “Le Faucon is out of danger; the surgery was a success. He woke, and they put him back to sleep for the mending of the lung tissues. He will be there for several more days, at least, but he will be well.”

  Now he sighed. “The rest of the news is not good. We cannot find any record of Amanda Morris leaving France, but we cannot find her inside France, either. And we cannot identify this Luc or Lucan. It is a most common name here, and no person of his description is anywhere in our information. I think he is not really a security guard or a driver of the limousines. I think he is off of the grade.”