Read Online After the Fine Weather by Michael Gilbert - Free Book Online

speaking; then he pulled out a gun and shot him.”
    “There was a man.”
    “You saw him, then?”
    “He was with a group of people under a lamp-post opposite where I was sitting. But he didn’t do the shooting. That was done from the theatre.”
    “By your blond friend?”
    “Well – of course, I don’t know it was him. But if he wasn’t mixed up in it, why was he sneaking out of the theatre by the back way?”
    “Maybe he works there,” said Helmut. “He sounds a bit theatrical. Suppose he was watching the parade from one of the theatre windows.”
    “Why did he run away when he saw me?”
    “That,” said Helmut, “I agree is quite inexplicable. Hello. What’s all this?”
    There was a crescendo of noise in the street outside, and three open lorries rocketed past. Each of them was full of uniformed, steel-helmeted men.
    “Reservists,” said Helmut. “Colonel Julius is doing his stuff.”
    “Colonel Julius?”
    “Julius Schatzmann, otherwise the Grey Bear, our respected Sicherheitsdirektor, or chief of security. It was Julius himself who got onto the microphone after the shooting. Didn’t you hear him?”
    “I heard someone bellowing. I didn’t understand it.”
    The man who had served them with drinks came up and said something to Helmut.
    “He’s turning us out.”
    “Why?”
    “He’s from Italy himself. He thinks there’s going to be trouble.”
    The man, stocky and black-haired, was clearly on edge for them to go. A boy – his son, she guessed – was already swinging a heavy shutter across one of the windows.
    “It mightn’t be a bad idea,” said Helmut. He seemed in no hurry to move, however, but was lying back in his chair, feeling in his pocket for money. “I should think that the consulate would be the safest place for you.”
    “What sort of trouble?” said Laura. “What do you mean?”
    Outside, from the direction of the square, came a sharp rattling. It was as if someone had drawn a walking stick along a section of iron railing. The sound ceased as abruptly as it had started.
    “A machine-gun,” said Helmut. “I wonder who’s shooting whom?” He handed the man some money, and they walked to the door and looked cautiously out.
    The street was empty.
    “Stay where you are for a moment,” said Helmut. “I’ve got my car down the next turning.”
    Most of the shops in the little street were shut, she noticed, the doors barred and the windows shuttered. At first-floor level faces peered from curtained windows.
    Then the car slid up.
    “Jump in,” said Helmut, “and don’t look so worried. Everything’s under control now, I imagine.”
    “I’m quite all right,” said Laura.
    The noise from the square had died down. There were occasional shouts, but they seemed to be the shouts of people in authority. Over all, the loudspeaker boomed steadily. Then the voice stopped speaking, there was a crackling, and music blared out.
    In the Maria-Theresien-Strasse they ran into a roadblock. Two troop carriers were across the street. Helmut spoke to the young, good-looking sergeant of gendarmerie, and they were allowed to pass.
    “The sergeant seemed to know you,” said Laura.
    “He ought to,” said Helmut. “He was on my ski team last year.”
    “Why are they blocking the roads?”
    “That’s Julius. It’s his idea of security. If anything happens, you put a cordon round, quick. You can work out the answers later. The first thing is to keep everyone where they are.”
    “Was he expecting trouble?”
    Helmut looked at her sideways out of his brown eyes, and said, “He was brought up in a hard school. Here we are. I expect your brother will be back soon.”
    He parked the car, walked with her into the hallway of the flats, and pressed the button for the lift.
    “Would you like me to come up with you?”
    “I shall be all right,” she said. “Frau Rosa will be there.”
    “If you do want me for anything, please telephone me. I shall be only too pleased. Here. I