The Oslo Affair (Shadows of War, #2) by CW Browning (read after .txt) 📗

too clean. It was as if no one had been staying there. Renner’s eyebrows came together as his eyes narrowed suddenly. There was no clutter anywhere, no sign of occupancy. Not even a hairbrush sat out on the dressing table.

With a frown, he moved to the front of the wardrobe and opened the door. The frown swiftly turned into a scowl. It was completely empty.

“Verdammt!” he swore, closing the door.

His lips pressed together unpleasantly and he strode to the window, glancing outside. The room overlooked the street and as he glowered into the night, he suddenly remembered her in the hallway. She had been carrying a square case. A toiletries or jewelry case.

“Dummkopf!” he muttered disgustedly, turning away from the window.

She had been leaving, not going out to dinner as he had assumed. The rest of her luggage must have already been downstairs when he ran into her.

Herr Renner switched off the lamp on the desk and strode across the room, pausing inside the door to listen. Hearing nothing in the hallway, he eased open the door and slipped into the empty hallway. He would have to report back to Berlin, then try to determine where she had gone. If she’d returned to England, he was out of luck. But if not, then he just might be able to pick up her trail.

He was passing the head of the stairs on his way back to his room when he heard voices in the hallway below. Recognizing the landlord’s voice, he paused in the shadows to listen.

“At least the man is gone from the street,” Josef was saying, his voice carrying up the stairs. “Now perhaps he’ll stop hanging around here.”

“Once he realizes she has gone, he will stop,” Else said. It sounded as if they were moving out of the parlor and towards the kitchen and Herr Renner strained to make out the rest of the conversation. “I just hope he doesn’t...gone...train station.”

“And her room?”

“I told her...reserve...week...”

Renner scowled in frustration as Else’s voice trailed off. They had gone into the kitchen and he heard the door close behind them. Turning, he continued towards his own room. So the Englishwoman had someone else watching her. That in itself was interesting, but even more so was the fact that the landlord and his wife were aware of it. Whoever was watching the house was either sloppy or completely unconcerned with being seen. He was willing to bet on the latter. If someone else was aware of the Englishwoman’s presence, then they had very good information and were most likely professionals, like himself. And that meant another government was interested as well.

Berlin wouldn’t like that. In fact, he didn’t like that. It made it all much more complicated.

Reaching his room, he unlocked the door and went inside. At least now he knew she had gone to a train station. He would hold off contacting Berlin until he’d determined where, in fact, Fraulein Maggie Richardson had gone. Once he knew that, he would know just what to report to his superior, and how he was going to proceed.

Comrade Grigori watched from behind a stone pillar as the Englishwoman met a brunette in the lobby of the station. They were both carrying luggage and he pressed his lips together. The train station wasn’t busy this time of night, but it also wasn’t deserted. He had to keep his distance or the Englishwoman would see him, yet by doing so he ran the risk of losing them. If only he knew which train!

When she left the house earlier, she’d shown no sign of being aware of his surveillance. A taxi had pulled up to the curb outside the house and the landlord had carried out a suitcase, handing it to the driver. As the driver stowed the bag in the trunk, the Englishwoman had emerged from the house. She hadn’t even glanced in his direction. In fact, she hadn’t looked in either direction. She had gone straight to the taxi and got into the back, saying something to the landlord as she did so. He had nodded and closed the car door once she was inside, going back into the house as the taxi pulled away. The whole thing had taken less than a minute.

Even though she didn’t appear to be aware of his presence in the street, Grigori knew she must be. It was the only explanation for the fact that she had managed to evade him for two days. Yesterday, he thought she had stayed in. However, when there was no sign of her today either, he knew he’d been blown.

Yet he’d been able to follow her to the station.

He puzzled over that as he watched the two women walk together towards the far stairs leading down to the tracks. If she was aware of his existence, why did she allow him to know where she was going? Or did she think he wouldn’t follow her from the city?

He supposed it was possible that she assumed he would lose interest in her once she had left Oslo. In any other situation, he probably would have. But this wasn’t any other situation and the loyalty of one of his own was in question. He had to know where she was going.

As soon as the women had disappeared through the far entrance, he emerged from his place behind the column and strode across the lobby to the ticket counter.

“Good evening,” the man greeted him cheerfully. “How can I help?”

“Good evening. Could you tell me what trains are running tonight?” Grigori asked, pulling a wallet from inside his coat.

“There are three, sir. The line to Trondheim departs in an hour, the train to Bergen leaves at ten, and the Ostfold line to Stockholm leaves in ten minutes.”

“That’s the one I’m looking for,” Grigori said. “Are there any sleepers left?”

“I’m afraid not, sir. I have a first class carriage available.”

“That’ll do.”

A moment later, Comrade Grigori was striding across the lobby towards the far entrance. As