Read Online Elusive Mrs. Pollifax by Dorothy Gilman - Free Book Online Page A

have a car? It is suggested you leave tomorrow, Wednesday morning. It is a drive in miles of some one hundred fifty. A reservation has been made for you at the Hotel Yantra tomorrow night.”
    “Those two names,” said Mrs. Pollifax, fumbling for a pencil. “Again, please?”
    “Tarnovo. T-a-r-n-o-v-o. The Hotel Yantra.”
    “Yes,” said Mrs. Pollifax, baffled by such unexpected instructions. “But why?” she asked. “Is this really necessary? I don’t understand–”
    The voice was cold. “Quite necessary.” A gentle click at the other end of the line told her that she was no longer in contact with her mysterious caller. She placed the receiverback on the hook. With a polite smile for the two young desk clerks, she made her way quickly to the ladies’ room, locked the door behind her and removed a map of Bulgaria from her purse. Eventually she found Tarnovo–it was the center of the country.
    But why? she thought indignantly. Why must she leave Sofia and go driving halfway across Bulgaria, even if the country
was
only three hundred miles from west to east?
    She could think of only two reasons at the moment. The small gray man might
not
be one of Tsanko’s people. Or Shipkov’s message and his telephone call were both a trap and there was no Tsanko at all.
    Neither possibility was heartening. But she had come to Bulgaria to carry out an assignment and this was the first communication she’d received. If it was a trap, she was going to have to discover it for herself by following it through to the end.
    Carefully she tore up her written notes on Tarnovo and flushed them down the toilet. Returning to Debby she said, “I’ll be leaving Sofia too, tomorrow. I’m going to do a little touring of the countryside.”
    “Oh,” said Debby, startled.
    Mrs. Pollifax reached out and patted her hand. “But I won’t forget about Philip. I’ll keep in touch with the Embassy for as long as I’m in Bulgaria and if you’ll give me your address I’ll write every piece of news I hear.”
    But even as she reassured Debby she was thinking, Why Tarnovo? Why so far?
    It was upsetting, and she admitted to a distinct uneasiness.

10
    A change of plan was not casually accomplished. The hotel had collected Mrs. Pollifax’s passport upon her arrival and in order to recover it she had to explain her plans to leave the next day. Balkantourist was telephoned, and an irate Nevena summoned again to demand what on earth she wanted.
    “I want to drive into the country tomorrow and remain away for a few days,” explained Mrs. Pollifax.
    “You arrived only yesterday in Sofia.”
    “That’s true. Now I want to leave.”
    “Why?”
    Mrs. Pollifax sighed and embarked upon a story about meeting tourists that day who had told her Sofia was not the real Bulgaria.
    “They said
that?
” Nevena said suspiciously. “Who were they?”
    “I haven’t the slightest idea. But in any case you know I want to see the real Bulgaria and I was planning anyway to drive into the country before I leave. Now I want to go tomorrow.”
    “Yes? Well, then, Borovets would be good, very good. It is south of Sofia, they ski there big in winter. I make a reservation at Hotel Balkantourist in Borovets for your arrival there tomorrow.”
    Mrs. Pollifax opened her mouth to protest and then closed it. There was obviously no point in mentioning Tarnovo to Nevena if Nevena wanted her to go to Borovets. If she persisted, the reservation at the Hotel Yantra might be accidentally uncovered, too. At this moment Mrs. Pollifax clearly understood the frustration that caused small children to lie through their teeth in the face of authority.
    “Give me the manager, I speak with him,” Nevena said, and Mrs. Pollifax gladly handed the phone to him. At length he promised to have her passport for her in the morning when she checked out.
    “Thank you–nine o’clock,” emphasized Mrs. Pollifax, and decided that it would be infinitely simpler if she did not mention that