Wayward Winds (57 page)

 117 
Chase

Amanda was running . . . running . . .

She had no idea where she even was. None of the streets looked familiar.

After a taxi ride of five minutes away from Ebendorfer Strasse, she told the driver to stop. She needed to save every penny for the train.

She got out. As soon as the cab disappeared she began walking in the general direction she thought might take her toward the station. Soon she was running, taking as many small streets as possible, hoping she wouldn't by remote chance encounter someone who recognized her.

Though she was well away from the house, she was terrified. Every face seemed watching her! Soldiers walked about everywhere.

In her confused state, it did not take many minutes before her sense of direction was completely turned around. But she had to keep going. She must get to the station. She broke into a run again, more befuddled than ever about where she was.

————

Mrs. Halifax returned to the house. None of the shops had seen Amanda.

Barclay and Ramsay awaited her.

“Amanda's gone,” she said. “She never went to the city.”

She explained what Gertrut had seen.

“The carpetbag and winter coat can only mean one thing,” said Barclay. “Go after her, Ramsay—see if you can pick up her trail.”

Already Ramsay was on his way toward the door.

“I'll check with the cabs along the street,” he said. “You and some of the others spread out for a block or two around the house. Ask if anyone's seen her.”

Ramsay ran quickly south on Ebendorfer Strasse, then left on Felder Strasse. He was certain such would have been Amanda's direction. A block farther, near the Rathaus, sat a row of taxis. He ran toward them and began questioning each of the drivers.

Had any picked up a young woman near here in the last hour? He gave a description of Amanda.

 118 
Too Close

Exhausted, at length Amanda sat down on a stone embankment along the walkway where she found herself. The sleepless night was catching up with her. Her legs and head ached. With sinking heart she had the feeling she had seen this same street already today.

How could she possibly get to the station without taking another cab?

She rested four or five minutes.

Down the street a taxi approached. She rose on weary feet to hail it.

Wait! Why did it seem familiar? It looked like—

It was the very cab she had ridden earlier. Now she remembered . . . and this was the same street they had been speeding along when she had told the driver to stop!

She had done nothing but run around in circles!

Now the cab pulled over again . . . at the same spot.

She stood watching. The door opened. A man got out and paid the driver.

Ramsay!

Amanda turned and sprinted along the sidewalk. Ahead, the brick wall of a corner building would offer protection. She hurried around it, then stopped and leaned for a moment against the surface to catch her breath.

How could he possibly have known where to find her!

Carefully she poked her head out around the edge of the wall.

Ramsay had not seen her. He glanced in every direction as he walked. He was coming this way!

Amanda pulled her head back out of sight and tore off down the street in the opposite direction, the carpetbag swinging about like lead in her hand. She turned into the first alley she found.

Her step slowed. For a brief moment the opposite thought struck her. Maybe Ramsay had followed to
help
. Perhaps he was concerned. Briefly the haze of confusion returned. She should just go back to meet him. He would tell her what to do.

She turned and began walking back toward the corner. An immediate sense of relief filled her at giving up the fight. Ramsay would—

Stop—what was she thinking!

Of one thing there could be no doubt. Whatever was going on, he was in on it—why else would he follow her?

Toward the end of the alley Amanda now ran, turned again, then along the next street, left at the intersection—

A horn blared. She nearly stumbled in the middle of the street.

—right into a narrow alley.

She was exhausted. It was a struggle to force her legs to keep moving.

At the end of the alley she turned for a quick glance back.

No sign of Ramsay. All she could do now was keep going as she was, which was
away
from where she had last seen him.

After another ten minutes, with many turns through alleyways and streets but moving mostly in the same general direction, at last again Amanda sought a taxi.

An empty car approached and stopped. At least it was not the same one from before. She stepped inside and sat down.

“Südbahnhof,” she said as the cab sped off.

 119 
Search

After an hour Ramsay returned to Ebendorfer Strasse.

“I lost her,” he said, explaining briefly his search. “After she left the cab, I spoke with one man who thought he had seen her. After that, not a trace.”

“You looked everywhere?”

“I couldn't wander the streets forever. She could be anywhere.”

“Where did the cab take her?” asked his mother.

“Nowhere. She drove for a while, then told the driver to stop.”

His mother and Barclay shook their heads. Neither had they had success. Hartwell Barclay did not like surprises like this, nor loose uncertainties.

“Search the house,” he said. “Tell everyone. Ramsay, go over your rooms with a fine-tooth comb. I want to know anything that is missing. Hildegard, talk to Gertrut and the other women.”

They all dispersed. Ramsay went to his apartment. A minute or two later, he heard Gertrut walking past outside toward her room.

Five minutes later a shout was heard in Gertrut's usually taciturn voice.

“My money is gone!” she cried, running into the hall. “Three hundred schillings!”

“What about your room, Ramsay?” Mrs. Halifax asked him. “What did she take?”

“As far as I can tell, a coat, two changes of clothes . . . a few personal items.”

“Too much to be accounted for by a shopping trip into the city. What about money?”

“Only what you saw me give her this morning. She had no more that I know of.”

“Identification?” asked Barclay.

Ramsay nodded. “Yes, her passport is also gone.”

“Wait,” said Gertrut, standing in the corridor listening. “I just realized . . . I keep my passport in the same drawer with my money.”

She ran back, then emerged thirty seconds later into the corridor.

“My passport is gone!” Gertrut announced.

“She is trying to leave the country!” exploded Barclay. “You fool!” he said to Ramsay, “how could you let her slip out from under your nose?”

“I was gone,” he shot back. “
You
were the only one in the house when she made her getaway!”

In white fury, Barclay did not reply.

“How far would five hundred schillings get her?” said Ramsay's mother. This was a time for practicalities, not an argument.

“Easily into Switzerland or Italy . . . if not all the way to England.”

“We've got to stop her!” seethed Barclay.

“The station,” cried Mrs. Halifax, “—we'll try the station!”

 120 
Station

Amanda walked into Vienna's southern train station, wishing she hadn't already spent so much.

At least she was here now.

But where to go? She couldn't buy a ticket for Paris—Austria was at
war
with France! That border would surely be closed.

Maybe Italy. If she could get safely across the border, perhaps from there she could get to France, although she spoke less Italian than her smattering of German! As far as she knew, Italy was still neutral even though technically Austria's ally.

She looked about for the board where the train times were posted.
Any
route out of Vienna would do!

She found the schedule board and glanced up and down it.

Berlin
 . . . no.

Nuremberg
 . . . no.

Munich
 . . . no.

Was
every
train westbound for Germany!

Innsbruck, Salzburg
 . . . they were both still in Austria.

South—
Trieste
and
Venice
 . . . that was her best chance to get out of Austria!

She turned and hurried to the ticket window.

“
Fahrkarte, bitte . . .
Trieste,”
she said nervously.

“Hin und Zurick?”
asked the agent.

“Nein,”
she replied shaking her head.

“Fünf-
und-achtzig schilling.”

Amanda shoved one of the two hundred schilling notes Ramsay had given her through the window.

Eyeing her a moment, the man handed her back the ticket and two coins of change.
“Bahnsteige neun, vier uhr
zwanzig,”
he said.

Amanda took the ticket and coins and turned away. Scanning the floor to get her bearings, she now walked through the station toward the tunnel leading to platform nine where the agent had told her the train would be. A few minutes later she arrived, then sat down to wait.

Four-twenty
.

She glanced up at the clock. It was now ten till three.

In ninety minutes she would be safe.