The Zurich Conspiracy by Bernadette Calonego Read Free Book Online Page B

gambit. “The bus from the airport.”
    The blonde hesitated for a moment and then nodded. “Yes, I remember,” she said pleasantly. “How’s the breakfast?”
    “I haven’t had any because they wanted to exile me to the darkest and most isolated table in the room,” Josefa explained. “Because I’m by myself .”
    “That’s so typical,” the blonde replied, brushing a strand of hair from her forehead. “Perhaps we can share a table?”
    “Good idea,” Josefa replied, relieved that that went much more smoothly than she had expected. Turning to the waiter she said triumphantly, “There are two of us.”
    Keeping a straight face, the waiter led the two women to the unoccupied table in the middle of the room.
    “Good you speak Spanish,” the blonde remarked. She had an open face with clearly defined cheekbones and green eyes. Her silk chemise dress was green as well, an elegant dress for the time of day, Josefa mused. “The Swiss are very good at languages,” she continued. “We Germans find it harder.”
    The blonde, who Josefa guessed was barely thirty, said she came from Mannheim and that this was her first trip to Tenerife.
    “For me it was a snap decision,” Josefa confessed. “I had vacation time coming, but nobody else did. That’s the life of today’s professional for you.”
    The German lady filled Josefa’s coffee cup before filling her own.
    “May I ask what your profession is?”
    Josefa gave out a few generalities without specifically naming her company. After all, she was not here on business.
    “That sounds fascinating,” the blonde lady replied, impressed. “I work in a legal consulting office. That’s far less interesting than your job.”
    “Perhaps, but maybe less nerve-racking,” Josefa sighed.
    The two went their separate ways after breakfast without arranging to meet later, which was fine by Josefa. She wasn’t interested in any new commitments. Josefa was on her way back to her room when she heard a woman calling her name. She turned around and saw her German breakfast companion holding out the chip-card for her room.
    “You dropped this, Frau Rehmer.”
    Josefa thanked her politely and continued up to her room to change. As she opened the door with her card, a thought suddenly popped into her head: How did that German lady know my name? They hadn’t introduced themselves… Maybe she’d heard it while I was checking in or she’d read my luggage tag? she reasoned.
    Josefa didn’t leave the beach the entire day except for a quick bite now and then. She would occasionally go for a swim far out into the ocean then go lie in the shade of her parasol. The gentle murmur of the waves and the sound of chattering tourists lulled her. Zurich seemed so far away. Toward evening she went for a stroll along the beach promenade. The sea had turned rougher. Three-foot waves were roaring in, then crashing onto the rocks on the shore. Intrepid young men and women were diving into the high water with their surfboards to wait for the next wave and then jumping to their feet quick as a wink when a good swell approached. The surge would toss them around, carry them over the crest, and throw them into the undertow. Josefa could barely tear herself away from this fascinating spectacle, and by the time she got back to the hotel it was already dark.
    The blonde German lady was nowhere to be seen the next morning so Josefa had breakfast by herself at the table for two. Apparently, in the waiter’s eyes, she’d become part of a pair even though her “companion” did not appear in the days that followed. Josefa didn’t come across her on the patio or on the beach either. Maybe the blonde was on a trip around the island and had only booked one night at the hotel, she concluded. Josefa didn’t give the woman’s whereabouts much thought after that. Instead she read three books in six days and went through two large tubes of sunscreen. She managed two daiquiris a day, one after swimming and