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

Anna tossed the magazine she was looking at onto the table and sighed. Maggie had been gone for an hour and, in that time, she had checked her watch no less than twenty times. She couldn’t concentrate on the store of magazines the hotel had provided. All she could think about was what her new friend was doing and whether or not she would find the address with the strange name. Something peace, wasn’t it?

Shaking her head, she got up and went over to the French doors that lead out to the balcony. Maggie had left after a breakfast in their rooms just as calm as you please, as if she were merely going to the corner shop for a pack of cigarettes. Anna, on the other hand, had been brimming with pent-up excitement all morning. How could she be so calm? It was all so terribly exciting! First a secret note passed under the door, then leaving to go to an assigned meet. It was just like in the films!

Anna stared across the water at the Royal Palace in the distance. Not ten minutes after she left, a porter had knocked on the door with a telegram for Miss Margaret Richardson, marked urgent. She glanced over at the desk where the sealed message lay. Terrible luck that it had missed Maggie by a few minutes. Turning away from the doors, Anna went over to the table and picked up her cigarette case. She was opening it to take one out when the restlessness welling inside her got the better of her.

Dropping the case back on the table, she let out an impatient noise and turned to go into her bedroom. She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t stay cooped up in this room, as luxurious as it was, simply waiting. If she didn’t get out and stretch her legs and get her mind off it, Anna was convinced she would go absolutely mad.

Grabbing her hat, she secured it on her head with a sturdy hat pin and turned to get her coat from the tall armoire. She would go out and look around the city, take in the sights, and by the time she returned, Maggie would be back.

She walked into the sitting room and her eye fell on the telegram sitting on the desk. She hesitated, looking at it consideringly. It didn’t seem safe to leave it there, where a maid could see it. It was marked urgent, after all. She was probably being silly, but she thought of the spy novels she liked to read and an image of masked men ransacking the hotel room came to mind. Without another thought, she crossed the room and took the telegram, tucking it into her purse with her cigarettes.

Five minutes later, Anna emerged from the stairwell next to the lift, the stairs preferable to the lift due to the excess of nervous energy. She bent her head to button her coat as she began to walk across the lobby towards the door. When she lifted her head, she found herself staring straight at a tall man in a long black coat who had just come in from the street. Her step checked and she frowned. He was very familiar. She’d seen him before. But where?

Anna moved to the side and stepped behind a column, looking around it at the man. She didn’t want to be caught staring, but she wanted to remember why he was so familiar. He hadn’t noticed her and was crossing the floor, heading towards her side of the lobby. He turned his head in her direction, glancing towards the lift, and Anna gasped softly. She did know him! She’d seen him at the Hotel Bristol when she and Maggie were chatting with the two Germans. She’d noticed him because she thought he was terribly good-looking, and he’d somehow managed to be in their vicinity all evening. He’d never once looked in her direction, although she remembered she kept glancing at him all night. He’d been sitting with two other Germans, she recalled, and they had kept his attention.

What on earth was he doing here?

“Herr Renner!”

A short man came up behind Anna, walking towards the tall man. He passed her without a glance and joined the tall man on the other side of the wide column.

“Is everything in place?” Herr Renner asked in German, removing his gloves.

He looked towards the lift again and Anna moved unobtrusively to her right until she was completely concealed by the column. So his name was Renner, and he was German. But why was he here?

“Yes, just as we discussed. I have someone watching the back stairs and someone watching the lift. Otto is on the corner near the newspaper vendor. He has a clear view of the entrance. Franz is in the back alley, although I really don’t think we need to worry about her going that way.”

“You know as well as I do that it’s better to have all the exits covered. Is she in her room?”

“No. There was a telegram delivered earlier and the boy had to leave it with her companion.”

“Companion?” Renner’s voice was sharp. “What companion?”

“Another woman. I haven’t seen her yet.” There was a hesitation and the rustling of paper as if the other man was looking through a notepad. “Tall with brown hair.”

“That describes half the women in the hotel. See if you can get a better description or get a look at her yourself,” Renner ordered. “Is she still in the room?”

“Yes.”

“Take care of it, then. Deliver something for the Englishwoman. Perhaps some fruit, complements of the hotel? I’m sure you can think of something.”

“Yes, Herr Renner.” There was the distinct sound of a notebook snapping shut. “And when the Englishwoman returns?”

“Inform me immediately. I’ll be in my room. Don’t approach her. Let her go to her room. We can’t afford a scene. I’ll handle it once she’s back.”

“Understood.”

The two men parted, the short one going towards the front desk and Herr Renner moving