Read Online Woman of the Dead by Bernhard Aichner - Free Book Online

there, even her degree was no help; there was no work for an interpreter. She had no future; the only thing she could do was speak German. It seemed like a good idea to go to Germany or Austria. The people-smugglers promised her a good life, work in a smart hotel, first as a chambermaid, maybe later at the reception desk. The pay was good, everything seemed perfect, she had got into the country with no difficulty and all their promises had come true. The money she had paid them was a good investment.
    Her new home was the Annendorf designer hotel in the ski resort of Sölden. A hostel for the staff, good food. It didn’t bother her that she wasn’t insured, wasn’t officially in Austria, so the hotelier could save a lot of money. She would have been happy for everything to continue as it was; she had made a new life for herself, had even found new friends among other illegals on the staff. They were busy hands working unseen in the kitchen, the laundry, the rooms; no one set eyes on them, and they were forbidden to go out. The hotelier didn’t want any problems, so no contact with the local villagers was the rule, and Dunya kept it. She went for walks first thing in the morning or late in the evening. When everyone else was asleep, she was out and about, breathing the mountain air, and enjoying it. When she had saved enough money she planned to go to a big German city, Hamburg or Berlin. She wanted a residence permit and a proper life, and for a little while she believed that it was possible. That the world was good, there was something outside Moldavia, something better. For a few months she believed that.
    She had come to Austria almost exactly five years ago. Mark wanted to know the whole story, from beginning to end. He had won her confidence and so she talked. Mark didn’t want her to overlook a single thing, he wanted to be sure that the story fitted; he listened, asking questions now and then. Again and again he soothed her fears, assuring her that nothing would happen to her, that she was safe. He gave her his word. And she told her story, which had begun on a minibus. Nine of them had crouched there, perched under the loading area; they had been on the road for over a day and a half, with nothing to eat or drink. They hadn’t seen daylight again until they arrived in the Tyrol. Mark wanted to know the names of the people-smugglers, which of them had made contact with the hotel, who had met them when they arrived, where her eight companions had gone. Mark pressed her, but gently; he didn’t want to frighten her off, he went cautiously. He was looking for leads; he had to begin somewhere, and something in what she was saying must help him. But it was all so vague. Dunya didn’t know the answers to many of his questions, and there was a good deal that she couldn’t remember. What had happened five years ago was so far in the past, and between then and now there was so much suffering, so much pain, she had been given so many narcotics. Nothing she said led to people Mark could question, however hard he tried; Dunya couldn’t help him, not in the way he would have liked. She sat beside him in the car as he tried to find out more.
    ‘Please, Dunya. You must remember.’
    ‘I really did think I’d got lucky at last. My parents practically starved so that I could study at university. They wanted my life to be better than theirs.’
    ‘Your life isn’t over yet.’
    ‘No, it’s over. Nothing can happen now to make up for—’
    ‘Are your parents still alive?’
    ‘I don’t know. I was going to bring them here later. I really believed that would happen. I promised them it would.’
    ‘We’ll find those men, Dunya. They will be punished for what they did, and you’ll get your life back, I’ll make sure of that. You’ll see your parents.’
    ‘You shouldn’t be giving me false hope.’
    ‘It can only get better now, Dunya, but you must tell me everything – everything, you understand? Every tiny