Thomas Ochiltree by Death Waltz in Vienna Read Free Book Online

rather than stand trial, since there would be no possible defense that I might be able to offer, no conceivable hope that I could cling to of a miraculous acquittal.”
    “Besides,” von Falkenburg went on, “I’ll throw in a statement to the effect that I lied to you by giving my word of honor that I was innocent. That will
really
burn my bridges. A man in jail can always claim he was unfairly convicted, can always hope to prove that one day and obtain a pardon. But the officer who admits that he gave his word of honor to his commanding officer in the knowledge that it was a lie….”
    Von Falkenburg could see that that offer impressed the colonel more than did the offer to confess in writing to the espionage. In the eyes of the colonel, and in those of every gentleman in Europe, to perjure one’s word of honor was almost equivalent to renouncing one’s humanity. Any beggar had more right to respect than an officer who gave his word of honor falsely.
    “But still, you might not have the nerve,” the colonel insisted.
    “To shoot myself? Hardly likely. But suppose that I did not. With a signed confession, the trial would be an open-and-shut case. But if dragged out, given the fact that espionage and an officer from an old family was involved, it would be something for the newspapers to puff up into a full-scale sensation. Headlines asking ‘Is the Captain Innocent?’ in letter six centimeters high.”
    The colonel squirmed visibly in his chair.
    “‘Deutschmeister Regiment Accused; the Colonel’s Role.’ That could be another one.”
    The colonel’s face was very red.
    “But all that could be avoided. With my confession, the case would be virtually over before it had begun. It would be impossible for the press to keep the story alive.
If
there were a trial. Which there wouldn’t be. If in a week I have not discovered my enemies and obtained proof of my innocence, you’ll find in my apartment what you were hoping for this morning. And I
will
give you my word of honor about that if you wish,” von Falkenburg said with perfect truthfulness.
    There was a long pause. Then the colonel said, “I’ll have to talk to Major Becker on the telephone. And he will have to get authorization from his superiors. Von Falkenburg, why the devil do you have to make things so difficult for us?”
    Von Falkenburg was tempted to ask, “when it’s merely a question of my life, colonel?” but respect for the colonel’s rank prohibited the sarcasm which disrespect for his person suggested. So von Falkenburg said nothing.
    “Anyway, go back to your apartment and remain there until I send for you. That’s an order, von Falkenburg.”
    Back in his rooms, von Falkenburg picked up the revolver and looked at it. He knew that he was bluffing, that come what may there was no question of him standing trial, and that if his bluff was called, all he could do was shoot himself without delay, for nothing had changed since last night on the Rudolfsbrücke. He carefully positioned the round so that when the trigger was pulled it would move under the hammer and fire.
    “Bang!” he whispered to himself. The gun had a horrible fascination for him. He could not put it down, even though he knew that he should be making plans for proving his innocence in the event that he received the week’s delay. And that, he realized, was because he feared that there were no plans to be made, as he had no idea of where to begin. If he obtained the week, perhaps he should forget about trying to discover the truth, and concentrate on enjoying himself with Helena.
    Maybe in half an hour his brains would be spilled all over the desktop, he realized suddenly. He carefully placed the revolver on the desk.
    The door opened. It was Schmidt.
    “I report most obediently, the captain’s trousers are not ready yet.”
    “Very well, Schmidt,” von Falkenburg said. The orderly’s arrival was a welcome intrusion into the hermetically-sealed world of his