Read Online Thomas Ochiltree by Death Waltz in Vienna - Free Book Online

College, the fantasies he had doubtless had of one day becoming a field marshal. It was true that regimental officers made fun of the Staff, but that was mostly out of envy.
    Then Röderer had found that he could not put his social background behind him, brains or no brains, hard work or no hard work. The Emperor loved to say that all officers were equal, and that their position in society was equivalent to that of a nobleman. But in the real world, things did not work like that. Röderer, with his working class mannerisms and bad accent had not fit in, and had fretted himself to pieces.
    Yet, von Falkenburg realized, there
had
to be more to it than that. There had to be something else that Röderer blamed the Army for, and that had turned him into a traitor.
    Von Falkenburg noticed that Röderer’s eyes now seemed to be almost glowing. Was that excitement, or…what? There was sweat on Röderer’s forehead, and a febrile agitation to his movements. The memory of things a medical friend of his named Rubinstein had once told him began to return to von Falkenburg.
    “Did you…did you bring it?” Röderer asked anxiously, the ingratiating note back in his voice.
    “No,” von Falkenburg said, beginning to guess what Röderer was referring to, but puzzled by the request.
    There was a look of panic on Röderer’s face.
    “Who’s going to bring it? It is going to be brought, isn’t it?” he asked desperately.
    “I have no idea, Röderer.”
    The man looked at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, then screamed “you’re lying! I know it! You just want to torture me!”
    He clutched von Falkenburg’s tunic with a frenzy that made it hard for von Falkenburg to push him away. Then all of Röderer’s wild energy seemed to evaporate at once, and he fell back on his bunk, burying his face in his hands and sobbing, “I don’t understand! I don’t understand!”
    So, von Falkenburg realized, that was it. Morphine, or something similar. The miraculous powder which took away the pain of existence. Röderer – who had doubtless turned to it to ease his professional and social anxieties and had come to blame the army for his addiction – was finished on this earth.
    Then von Falkenburg remembered that he too was finished if he did not get some information out of the man. Röderer’s outburst suggested he had indeed engaged in criminal activity of some kind. But he was obviously incapable of having forged the evidence against von Falkenburg. There had to be others behind Röderer who had used him, and those others were the persons whom von Falkenburg had to discover.
    “I’m von Falkenburg. The man you have falsely accused of being your accomplice.”
    A broad smile spread over Röderer’s sweat-covered, haggard face.
    “So, the elegant captain will soon be joining me here,” he said with evident satisfaction.
Von
Falkenburg. Very feudal. Mama was doubtless a fine lady, not a laundress.”
    For a brief moment the satisfaction appeared to override the terrible physical hunger which was consuming Röderer, even though his hands still shook. But soon the hunger worked its way to the surface again, like a stain on a wall working its way through a coat of fresh paint. A grimace covered the man’s face, and it was only the tone of his voice that allowed von Falkenburg to realize that the grimace was supposed to be an ingratiating smile.
    “Perhaps if you could get me some….”
    “No.”
    “Then get out, you bastard,” Röderer screamed, “Get out! Out! Out!”
    Von Falkenburg realized that at present there was nothing to gained from Röderer. He might as well go.
    The ride back to the Rossauer Barracks was a depressing one. The interview with his accuser had been useless. It was clear that Röderer – who had not even known who he was until he identified himself – had simply been told by others to accuse him. But who were they, and why had they singled
him
out as their victim? Now that he had failed to obtain any