Vienna if they’ve got information about him. Also, if they would reach New York and verify his firm there, I’d be grateful. Here’s its name: Strong, Muller, Nicolson and Hodge. They are said to be lawyers. He is also employed by a publishing firm called Newhart and Morris. Got all that?” He waited while Dietrich repeated the name. Careful man, Dietrich, sometimes almost too careful, he thought wryly. “One more thing: when you are talking to Vienna, ask them what they know about Eric Yates, a British subject possibly, now living in Zürich... That should hold you until I get back. Tomorrow or the next day, depends on what I find in Unterwald. Unless, of course, you uncover anything that would bring me back here in a hurry. You know where to call me.” So the pebbles were cast and the millpond would ripple. How little, how much?
He frowned at the picture of Finstersee as he passed it, his steps slowing to a halt. Whose agent had Bryant been? Not one of ours, he decided, or else I’d have been told to contact him when the first rumour about Finstersee began filtering through Intelligence circles last week. Strange how a rumour could start in the undercover world. It could develop from a hint, one phrase, that some quick-witted listener picked out of seemingly innocuous conversation; it could be a word,one name, in an intercepted message. All it needed was the knowledge to understand what the hint or word or name might mean, and you had the beginning of a rumour that no intelligence-gathering agency could afford to leave unchecked. If Bryant had somehow been the source of that current rumour about Finstersee, his death would arouse real interest in it. Unless, of course, his death was an accident. In that case, even the quick wits of Western Intelligence might be inclined to drop Finstersee into their wait-and-see files. Once there, most rumours gradually suffocated from a lack of clear information. Yes. Bryant’s death had to be an accident.
As Zauner entered the narrow hall, his pace slowed again. Bryant an agent? Right here in Salzburg for all these years? No, he decided, Bryant might in some way have stumbled upon some information, but that’s about all. He was too cantankerous, too quixotic to take orders from anyone. Not once, in all these years, did he have contact with any known Intelligence agents who had floated in and out of Salzburg. He might have been a sleeper, of course, but surely he would have been activated at the time of the Lake Toplitz incidents. He could have been very useful there if he had been a trained agent. His war experience? Negligible for what an agent had to face today. And once peace broke out, the British had ditched him quickly enough. No, if Bryant had any information about Finstersee, the most he would do with it was to sell it to the highest bidder. And who would that be?
“Felix—” Johann called worriedly, “come in, listen to this! She isn’t going anywhere. She is staying here. That’s what she keeps saying.” He threw up his hands in despair and rose from the table where he had been sitting opposite Anna. “Youpersuade her,” he said, and went over to stand at the window.
Zauner looked at Anna in complete disbelief. Her face was set in a blank white mask, letting neither tears nor cry escape. Her arms were folded tightly around her, her eyes staring into space. “Anna—” he began, wondering if she could even hear him.
“I’m not leaving. I stay here.”
“That is not wise. Believe me. Please—”
“I am staying.” Her voice was low but decided.
Zauner moved over to Johann. “Get her out of here. And call a doctor. He will give her a sedative and she’ll sleep through the night. I’ll have to leave now.” He glanced at his watch and swore. “You’ll make sure she doesn’t stay here by herself?”
Johann nodded.
Zauner hesitated, went back to Anna. “I am so sorry. So terribly sorry. Anna—”
“Please leave me alone.”
Zauner
He frowned at the picture of Finstersee as he passed it, his steps slowing to a halt. Whose agent had Bryant been? Not one of ours, he decided, or else I’d have been told to contact him when the first rumour about Finstersee began filtering through Intelligence circles last week. Strange how a rumour could start in the undercover world. It could develop from a hint, one phrase, that some quick-witted listener picked out of seemingly innocuous conversation; it could be a word,one name, in an intercepted message. All it needed was the knowledge to understand what the hint or word or name might mean, and you had the beginning of a rumour that no intelligence-gathering agency could afford to leave unchecked. If Bryant had somehow been the source of that current rumour about Finstersee, his death would arouse real interest in it. Unless, of course, his death was an accident. In that case, even the quick wits of Western Intelligence might be inclined to drop Finstersee into their wait-and-see files. Once there, most rumours gradually suffocated from a lack of clear information. Yes. Bryant’s death had to be an accident.
As Zauner entered the narrow hall, his pace slowed again. Bryant an agent? Right here in Salzburg for all these years? No, he decided, Bryant might in some way have stumbled upon some information, but that’s about all. He was too cantankerous, too quixotic to take orders from anyone. Not once, in all these years, did he have contact with any known Intelligence agents who had floated in and out of Salzburg. He might have been a sleeper, of course, but surely he would have been activated at the time of the Lake Toplitz incidents. He could have been very useful there if he had been a trained agent. His war experience? Negligible for what an agent had to face today. And once peace broke out, the British had ditched him quickly enough. No, if Bryant had any information about Finstersee, the most he would do with it was to sell it to the highest bidder. And who would that be?
“Felix—” Johann called worriedly, “come in, listen to this! She isn’t going anywhere. She is staying here. That’s what she keeps saying.” He threw up his hands in despair and rose from the table where he had been sitting opposite Anna. “Youpersuade her,” he said, and went over to stand at the window.
Zauner looked at Anna in complete disbelief. Her face was set in a blank white mask, letting neither tears nor cry escape. Her arms were folded tightly around her, her eyes staring into space. “Anna—” he began, wondering if she could even hear him.
“I’m not leaving. I stay here.”
“That is not wise. Believe me. Please—”
“I am staying.” Her voice was low but decided.
Zauner moved over to Johann. “Get her out of here. And call a doctor. He will give her a sedative and she’ll sleep through the night. I’ll have to leave now.” He glanced at his watch and swore. “You’ll make sure she doesn’t stay here by herself?”
Johann nodded.
Zauner hesitated, went back to Anna. “I am so sorry. So terribly sorry. Anna—”
“Please leave me alone.”
Zauner
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