“Belgrade. Belgrade — doesn’t that tell you anything?”
“No,” Angus said stubbornly.
Jack sighed impatiently. He was a step ahead, “It’s where the photo was taken. Belgrade is the capital of Serbia. Remember, that’s what all this is about — Austria and Serbia are enemies. Just like Mueller was saying.”
“But what’s that got to do with Anna, and how does she know Pendelshape?”
Jack sighed, “Keep up, Angus. ‘Matronovic’. ‘Belgrade’. Anna’s a Serb. What she’s doing in the house of a rich Austrian like Mueller, though, I have no idea.” But suddenly he had a brainwave, “Of course! The name — Matronovic.”
Jack flipped the photo over. The names written in Pendelshape’s distinctive scrawl could still just be made out — ‘Princip Matronovic’.
“Dani wasn’t it? Dani Matronovic.”
“You don’t think…?”
“Yes, Anna has the same name, Matronovic, and recognised the people in the photograph. Pendelshape said the picture was taken by Dani’s sister — Anna!”
“Incredible!”
“Yeah, incredible all right. Anna is a Bosnian Serb working here, for some reason. She and Dani met Pendelshape when he travelled back, testing the Taurus, and now she must think we have been sent by Pendelshape… to help them.” Jack exhaled slowly. “Angus — it looks like you, me and the professor are going to have to make that decision we talked about.”
“What?”
Jack sighed, “Come on Angus, you were the one who was going on about it. What Dad said. It’s what we talked about last night — up in the gorge.”
“What, you mean try to stop the assassination?”
“Yes. Anna can probably lead us to the assassins. In fact, she is expecting us to help them — because of what Pendelshape promised when he was here. If we make contact with the assassins we can probably somehow stop the assassination from happening. Just like Pendelshape and Dad want.” There was a pause, before he added, “That is… if we want to get involved at all…”
“Well — you know what I think already. I think we should,” Angus said. “And anyway,” he grinned, “I’m happy to help Anna as much as she wants.”
“Come on Angus. This is serious. Listen — I know what Dad and Pendelshape want to do. And I also know that the professor agrees with them.”
“So what’s the problem?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe it’s not as simple as that. I’m thinking maybe we should just wait until we’ve got a signal on your time phone… if that ever happens… and then, we’ll travel back to Dad… and work it out with him… Or, maybe just give ourselves up to the Rector again.”
“NO WAY. If you do that — you’re on your own. You saw what they did to me… and to poor old Pendelino.”
“I’m not sure, Angus. Is it really up to us?”
“We’re involved whether we like it or not. And anyway, if you’d heard what your Dad said about it, you’d know the right thing to do was to help them. I think your Dad would expect you to.”
“Maybe. But see, I’m not even sure I know how we could stop the assassination even if it is the right thing to do. We have no idea how Pendelshape and Dad had planned to stop it…”
“Well I’m not hanging around for those VIGIL nutters to catch up with us again and lynch us…”
“I don’t know Angus… the Rector seemed to make sense at the castle… He was OK.”
“Yeah? Well, I’m sorry, he wasn’t that sensible when I saw him last with his bunch of thugs back at school…”
Jack had no answer.
Later, Jack lay back on his bed and stared up at the ceiling. He felt very tired and slowly closed his eyes. Images from the last two days flickered randomly through his head as he fell into a light, dreamy sleep. In his dream, Angus and the professor were marching ahead of him down a muddy track. He was trying to keep up, telling them to slow down, to wait… but they kept going and going and seemed to know exactly what they were doing. Coming towards them on the same track, marched a column of bedraggled men. On the horizon, way beyond, the air lit up with white-and-orange flashes of artillery fire. The earth rumbled beneath their feet. The line of men stumbled on past them. Their uniforms were dirty, bloody, ripped and torn. Each one of them rested a hand on one shoulder of the soldier in front… and for the first time he noticed that they were blindfolded — a single grubby white bandage was tied around each head.
Without warning, as he hurried on after the professor and Angus, one of the soldiers stopped, broke from the line and squatted down in front of him. His face was dirty and lined… the pale skin hanging heavy with fatigue. Then, to Jack’s surprise, the soldier put out one hand towards him and his lips curled up into a weak smile. Suddenly, to Jack’s horror, the blindfold was whipped away and he found himself looking straight into two bloodied pits where the eyes should have been…
Muellered
Jack woke with a start. His sheets were wet with sweat. The room was dark. It took him a moment to understand where he was. He heard a gentle knocking at the door and then a whisper — a young woman’s voice, “Jack! Jack!”
Coming to his senses, he crept over to the door and opened it a fraction. Two big brown eyes peered back at him. It was Anna.
She eased him to one side and sneaked into the room, “Wake your friend and listen carefully… I have plan.”
Mueller had decided that he would drive them personally from Achensee to the train station in Innsbruck. He was keen to show off his new Mercedes Benz. Picking up where he had left off the evening before, he continued to chatter away, starting off by pointing out all the features of the large motor car. Somehow they had all managed to squeeze in, together with Anna. Marta had been left at home, and was a little tearful to see them go, but there was no room for her, and anyway, she was “afraid of motor cars”.
The mighty machine took three hours to phutt and lumber its way down from the Achensee valley to the town of Innsbruck. They had to stop several times. Mueller’s excuse was that the radiator needed a refill, or something under the bonnet needed adjusting. But his main objective was to rummage in the boot of the car for ‘refreshment’. These stops proved good opportunities for Angus and Jack to surreptitiously inspect the time phone. The distinctive yellow bar remained stubbornly blank — just as it had since they escaped from the castle. On one occasion, at Mueller’s insistence, they descended on a village cafe where their host downed at least a litre of beer. By the time they entered Innsbruck, he was somewhat inebriated, and as they worked their way towards the station, the car slewed uneasily from side to side as he attempted to avoid pedestrians, horse-drawn carts and other vehicles.
The station was busy. The massive black Vienna train was steaming gently alongside the platform as people boarded. Mueller had kindly supplied them with a small hamper for the trip and he had even given the professor some money to replace what had been lost in the lake. As they prepared to board the train, Mueller shook them each warmly by the hand. Anna stood a little behind Mueller, eclipsed by his massive bulk, which swayed gently from the effect of the alcohol.
They climbed aboard and found a compartment all to themselves. It was small, but comfortable and smelled of coal smoke. They spread themselves out on the neatly upholstered bench seats. Mueller was also sending Anna to Vienna with a long shopping list, but she had been banished to one of the third-class carriages further down the
