As usual, Stefan responded by pouring liberal quantities of oil over his voice. “I am sure there is no need to trouble the family over this, Mrs. Bancroft. I will arrange for someone to come out to you today.” He hung up before Paula could berate him for his attitude.
“Patronizing, arrogant bastard,” she said into the dead phone. She exhaled loudly.
Three hours later, a short, Slavic-looking man in a high-visibility jacket arrived with a white van and a selection of tools. He spoke little English, but had obviously been briefed. By gestures and Paula’s limited German, she succeeded in communicating where she had detected the problems. She left him to his work and made them both coffee.
Around half an hour later, he came back. By his expression, it had not gone well, and by the stilted conversation and body language that followed, it seemed he had found no trace of any pests, or any way they could have got in. He went to the basement door and rattled it. Then he pointed to the locks. Paula shook her head and shrugged. The message had been clear, though. If she wanted to be sure the house was rodent-free, he would need to gain access to the basement. He left his card, smiled, and departed soon after.
Paula grabbed her phone and tapped Stefan’s number. He answered almost immediately, but was his usual evasive self and Paula felt in no mood for his excuses.
“Stefan, this is no longer a matter of choice. If there are rats here, the pest-control man needs to get into the basement because that’s the only place they could have got in. He’s checked thoroughly.” At least, she assumed he had.
She did not imagine the loud sigh on the other end of the phone. “Very well, Mrs. Bancroft, I will call the family, but I do not imagine they will be too pleased.”
“And I am not exactly pleased to be living in a home infested with rats.”
“We do not know if that is the case.”
“Well, something is scratching around in the walls. Do you have another suggestion?”
“If you say so, Mrs. Bancroft, then I must believe you.”
Paula picked up a nearby pencil in her right hand and snapped it clean in half. If she carried on this conversation much longer, she knew she would say something she might regret.
“Just see to it, Stefan.” She cut the call.
* * * *
Paula had another disturbed night. Not noises in the walls this time, but dreams of the image that had appeared in her old sketchbook. She couldn’t see him clearly, but she knew he was staring at her. Waiting. He touched her and his fingers pierced her flesh like icicles.
She woke in a cold sweat, her heart beating a tattoo.
The heavy curtains rendered the bedroom almost pitch black. Only the faintest ray of amber from the streetlights outside penetrated the tiny space between them.
Paula stared out into the gloom, too scared to move. The room had taken on a strange, menacing atmosphere. Heavy, cloying. On the far wall, a pinprick of light flickered and grew rapidly into a pulsating glow. She lay, paralyzed, not trusting what she saw. The gleam intensified, became a ball of blue-white light against the gray walls. It throbbed in a bass drumbeat—building to a thumping crescendo. Paula wrenched her hands free from their paralysis and clapped them against her ears.
The ball of light shifted, changed shape, became fluid, morphing like the colors in a lava lamp. It shifted away from the wall. Came toward her. She screamed and clamped her eyes shut.
The throbbing took over her mind. Like a migraine, hammering incessantly in her temples. She no longer knew if she was asleep or awake. She curled her unwilling body into a fetal position, her breathing shallow.
It stopped.
She waited. Opened one eye. Then the other. The ball of light had gone, as if it had never existed.
But in the room a strong smell of lilies wafted toward her.
Chapter 4
“Oh my God, Paula, this is amazing.” Dee set down her suitcase and stared around the hallway. “I guessed it was big but I never imagined palatial. Posh area, too.”
“I know. Hietzing is about as upmarket as you can get in Vienna, and that means pretty upmarket.”
“I want to see everything while I’m here.”
“That’ll be tough. There’s around a hundred and forty museums, for a start.”
“Okay, maybe not everything, but I’ve been on the Internet and the Museum of Modern Art looks fantastic. Have you been yet?”
Paula shook her head. “We can go there and visit the other art galleries and museums in the MuseumsQuartier.”
“I must go to the Schönbrunn Palace, as it’s so near, and the Hofburg, the Spanish Riding School—”
Paula laughed. “How long are you staying?”
“Four days. Long weekend, really.”
“We’ll try to cram as much as we can in, but you’ll have to come for another visit.”
“Is Phil away for long then?”
“That is a wicked grin, Dee. Three weeks. You two have got to find a way of getting along together. Honestly, it’s crazy. Two intelligent, lovely people at each other’s throats within five minutes of being in the same room together.”
“What can I say? He winds me up.”
“Well, wind yourself down and come and look at the library.”
Paula opened the door and Dee inhaled sharply.
“Wow! I knew from the photos it was amazing, but seeing it for real…” She crossed the threshold, never taking her eyes off the magnificent painting. “Those eyes… They follow you. How did he do that? It looks so alive.”
“It’s been restored a couple of times over the years, and they’ve obviously made an excellent job of it. You can tell Gustav Klimt loved women and loved painting them. His attention to detail is quite something, isn’t it?”
“So this is Cleopatra’s arrival at Tarsus?”
“Yes. The legend goes that she arrived in triumph on a golden barge in order to impress, and eventually seduce, Mark Antony. Her plan worked.”
Dee shivered. “Is there a window open somewhere? I just got this chilly draft down my right side.”
“I don’t think so.” Paula checked the windows on the far wall. “No, all closed.”
Dee rubbed her right arm. “Didn’t you feel it? Gave me goosebumps.”
Paula shook her head.
“Never mind, it’s gone now.” She returned her attention to the painting. “Who’s the girl on the riverbank?”
“Not sure.”
“Looks like she’s up to no good. She’s got a dagger in her hand.”
Paula jumped. “You can see it, too?”
“Sorry?”
“Everyone else sees her clutching a clump of reeds. When I photographed it, the picture showed reeds. Sometimes I see it that way, but most of the time—like now—I see the dagger. That’s when I think it must be Arsinoe, Cleopatra’s sister, who stole her throne briefly and plotted to kill her. Cleopatra got in first and had her banished and then murdered.”
“What a loving family.”
“Oh, they were all at it in those days.” Paula laughed. It made her feel better knowing she wasn’t the only one who saw the dagger. Maybe they saw the same thing because she and Dee were so closely related.
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m starving.”
“Right, I’ll show you your room and you can get unpacked. Then let’s take the U-bahn into the city and go for a meal.”
“The Café Central. I’ve got to go there. Sigmund Freud used to drink coffee there…and Trotsky, Lenin. They even say the Russian Revolution was plotted there.”
“We’ll go tomorrow. For today, though, let’s go for a pizza. I know just the place.”
“Can’t wait.”
* * * *
The next day, after a morning steeping themselves in Austrian Imperial history at the Hofburg, Paula sank down
gratefully into a comfortable chair. The timeless elegance of the Café Central suited her mood perfectly.
Dee picked up the impressive menu and used it to shield her lips while she whispered to Paula. “The waiters are a bit fierce, aren’t they?”
“They’re okay once you get used to them. I’ve been here a few times now. I think it’s because they’re so proud to work here. Anyway, I’m having a Wiener mélange and some strudel. It’s delicious.”
“Mélange.” Dee found it on the menu. “Espresso with frothed milk. That’ll do me, too. I’ve been looking forward to my first authentic apple strudel ever since you suggested it yesterday.”
As she did whenever she came here, Paula took in the opulent marble columns, the vaulted ceilings, and the central vitrine displaying more fine patisserie than she could imagine, all laid out in mouthwatering splendor. Sitting here, watching the world go by, the disturbing dreams and anomalies of life at the Villa Dürnstein seemed unreal.
The strudel arrived. Light, flaky, and perfectly spiced. Dee rolled her eyes as she took another mouthful. “I could get used to this. Not that my waistline would forgive me.”
They were finishing their coffee when a man approached them.
He stopped no more than a foot away and pointed a shaking finger at Paula. He spoke so rapidly, she couldn’t keep up with his German.
“What does he want?” Dee asked.
“I don’t know. Something about…no, that wouldn’t make any sense.”
A waiter hurried up to him and, with an apologetic glance to Paula and Dee, steered the man away and out of the door. A few customers watched with interest and then resumed their conversations.
The waiter returned. “I am so sorry that man disturbed you,” he said, in perfect English.
“Who is he?” Paula asked.
“I don’t know. He isn’t one of our regular customers. I think he is…not well.” He tapped his head.
“Did you hear what he said to us?” Dee asked. “He sounded quite angry.”
“He said a Geist…I don’t know the word in English. A person who is dead but comes back.”
“A ghost?” Paula said.
“Ah, ghost. Yes. He said a ghost was standing behind you.”
“A ghost?” Dee exclaimed.
“Yes.” The waiter looked uncomfortable, as if he wondered whether he should have told them.
“And that was it?” Paula said. “All that gesticulating, finger-pointing… Did he say anything else, or describe it?”
The waiter shifted uncomfortably. “No, Madame. That is all.” He left before Paula could prod him any further.
“He didn’t tell us everything,” Dee said.
“Clearly. But why?”
“Didn’t want to frighten us. The man was obviously deranged. A bit weird, though. Is this place supposed to be haunted, then?”
“Oh, I expect so. It’s pretty old. It used to be a palace. Like practically every other building in central Vienna.”
“I’m certainly getting my money’s worth on this trip,” Dee said. “I’ve only been here a day and I’ve already managed to upset the locals.”
Paula laughed. “Only one local. Come on. I’ll pay and then let’s get back home.” She felt glad she could make light of it for Dee’s sake, but the incident had upset her more than she cared to admit. She couldn’t be certain, but she thought she had heard the man use the word “Teufel.” The more she replayed the scene in her mind, the more sure she became. The waiter had lied. The man hadn’t said there was a ghost behind her, he had said the devil stood there. Paula shivered. Goosebumps raised on her arms.
Back home, Paula and Dee sank into the well-upholstered chairs in the living room. Paula’s feet throbbed freely as she removed shoes that had grown too tight.
Dee sighed. “I loved the Hofburg. Even if it was a little hard on the feet. And that strudel…” She raised her eyes heavenward. “To die for. Pity about the weirdo, though.”
Paula changed the subject. “I don’t know about you, but I need a leisurely soak in a hot, scented bath, with plenty of bubbles.”
Dee leaned back. “Sounds like heaven.”
Paula dragged herself up on her protesting feet and picked up her shoes. “Help yourself to anything you want. I’ll see you later.” But Dee had already dozed off.
Paula lay back in the welcoming warmth of the orange-scented bubbles and closed her eyes. The throbbing in her feet had subsided, and she was in danger of falling asleep. She opened her eyes again and immersed herself up to her chin.
She jumped at a sudden noise from outside the bathroom. Dee must have woken and come upstairs to her room next door. Paula waited for the sound of the taps being turned on. Outside, in her bedroom, the floorboards creaked.
She called out. “Dee?”
No reply.
The floorboards creaked again. “Dee? Did you want something?”
No reply.
The door handle slowly turned. Paula stood and grabbed a large towel. She wrapped it around herself, never taking her eyes off the handle. It barely moved at all. Then it stopped. Paula waited a few seconds, summoning up the courage to investigate. She chided herself for being scared. It could only be Dee. Probably trying to scare her on purpose. Paula took a deep breath and wrenched the door open. “Dee?”
She crossed the floor, out of the bedroom, into the next bathroom. No trace of Dee. She opened the door of the guest room. Again no sign of her sister.
Perplexed, she turned and wandered back to her room.
In the bathroom, she wiped the fogged mirror and removed the clips she had used to secure her hair. She shook her head.
In the mirror, a face stared back at her. That face.
Paula screamed.
It vanished.
But it had been there. The face she had seen in her nightmares. In the sketch pad. Bearded, hollow-eyed. Real.
Paula daren’t move. She lost track of how long she stood there.
When she finally emerged from her room, fully dressed, Dee had just reached the top of the stairs. Clearly, her sister hadn’t heard her scream, and Paula wouldn’t worry her by telling her what she thought she had seen. She pasted a smile on her face. “Had a good sleep?” she asked, relieved that her voice sounded calm.
Dee yawned. “I must have dropped off as soon as I sat down. We certainly walked a few miles today. Enjoy your bath?”
“Mostly. Did you come up earlier?”
“No. I’ve only just woken up. Going to grab a quick shower.”
She disappeared into her room and Paula descended the staircase, still trying to work out what she had seen in that mirror. She couldn’t help wondering if the man in the Café Central had seen the same apparition. But that would mean it could transport itself out of the house. It could follow her. Anywhere.
She had reached the kitchen door when she heard Dee’s scream.
She raced up the stairs to find her sister sitting on the bed, trembling and white faced.
Paula put her arms around her and held her close. “Whatever’s happened?”
Dee struggled to speak through chattering teeth. “I saw…a man.” She shook her head. “Not a man… Someone… Something. I…it…he…had black eyes. No…it had…no eyes. Its face was gray…with a black beard. It stared at me.”
Paula’s heart sank like a stone. “Hush, Dee, you’re okay. I’m here. There’s something I need to tell you.”
“What?”
Paula took a deep breath. “I’ve seen it, too.”
“What is it? Who is it?”
“I don’t know. I wish I did.”
“So, that’s what you meant when you said you thought this house is haunted. I should have believed you.”
“Why should you? You have to experience it before you can truly believe.”
“You’ve got to get rid of it. Exorcism or something.”
“I wouldn’t have a clue where to begin with something like that. I’ll have to wait until Phil gets back. He’s the one who speaks fluent German. He’s also the Catholic in the family. Nominally, anyway.”
“But he’s not back for over two weeks. You can’t stay here with…that.”
Paula did her best to sound nonchalant. “How bad can it be? It’s not as if it’s done anything. It only looked at us.”
“That’s quite enough for me. You were always the brave one. Even when we were children, I always came to you when I got scared.” Dee’s chattering told Paula how scared she really felt. “And do you remember that new girl in your year at school? Sally? Poor kid was being terrorized by that bully. Melanie.”
Paula thought for a moment and then the memory of it flooded back.
Dee laughed nervously. “Everyone else was too scared of her to do anything, but you waded in there and hauled her off. That dreadful bully might have been twice your size but that didn’t stop you from smacking her across the face. That taught her.”
Paula smiled. “She never bullied Sally again, that’s for sure. She never messed with me, either—or you, for that matter.”
Dee took deep breaths and gradually recovered her composure. “I think I’ll have that shower,” she said. “It might help calm me down.”
Paula nodded. “You sure you’ll be all right? I can stay if you want.”
“No, I’ll be fine.” She didn’t sound it. “Like you said. It hasn’t done anything to me. Just stared. If it was even there at all.”
Paula said nothing. If it helped Dee to think she had imagined it, so be it. She left her sister and went downstairs. In the dining room, she poured herself a large brandy, another one for Dee, and sat at the table. Her mind played with theory after theory until she found one that seemed to answer at least some of the questions.
Dee joined her a few minutes later, dressed, but with her hair wrapped in a towel. She accepted the drink. “Thanks, I need this.” She took a deep swig and set her glass down on a coaster.
Waking the Ancients Page 5
