Cast No Shadow, Peter Sharp [books to get back into reading txt] 📗

wallpaper and rich drapes. The furniture was modern but clearly of good quality. Kelly was led to a large sofa in one corner of the room and the two sat down together sinking into the plush upholstery.

“I’m surprised!” said Amundsen.

“That I’ve found you?” queried Kelly

“No, I’m surprised that it’s taken you so long!” smiled Amundsen. “I expected you months ago.”

It was Kelly’s turn to smile. “So, you know why I’m here.”

“Sadly, I can’t give you the answer you seek. I have no idea where Sybilla is.”

“It’s Inga I’m looking for. She knows where Sybilla is.”

“Does she indeed!” Amundsen looked surprised. “I may be able to help you there. Or rather Nurse Olsen may be able to help.” Amundsen moved to the door, opened it slightly and called quietly in Norwegian. The nurse entered and stood facing the two men, Amundsen having returned to the sofa.

“Nurse Olsen,” said Amundsen, speaking in English, “Mr Kelly is keen to locate Inga Knudsen. Can you throw any light on her whereabouts?” The woman coloured and cast her eyes down, her hands working frantically in front of her.

Realisation dawned on Kelly. “Inga?” he asked. “You are Inga!”

She nodded.

Kelly’s mind was in turmoil; standing a few feet from him was the one single individual who could bring him to Sybilla. He wanted to leap off the sofa and embrace her. Kelly cast a glance at Amundsen who was observing him closely. Standing, Amundsen said, “Inga, I’m just going into reception,” then to Kelly, “Call into reception before you go, Dragan.” Kelly didn’t answer as the Doctor left the room; he was staring intently at Inga.

She was shorter than her sister, and slighter, but she still had a good figure and the same flawless skin. By any normal yardstick she was an attractive woman, but Kelly wasn’t using an ordinary yardstick. He mentally compared all women to Sybilla. None had ever come close.

“Inga!” he breathed. She lifted her blue eyes. “Please, sit by me.” He indicated the sofa. Inga squeezed herself into the corner, creating as large a gap between them as she could.

“Please tell me where Sybilla is.”

“Why? So you can kill her?” The woman spoke defiantly, a quaver in her voice. Her moist eyes flashed with a mixture of anger and fear, shades of Sybilla.

Kelly spoke softly and calmly, words he had wanted to say for so long. “Inga, I love your sister. I couldn’t harm her if I wanted to. I need to find her to tell her how much I love her. If she then tells me that she doesn’t want to see me again, I will go away and I will never bother her, you, Otto or anyone else again, but I need to find her and tell her. Please help me.”

The woman was clearly wrestling with her emotions; tears formed in the corners of her eyes and ran down her face. Hurriedly she wiped them away, and mustering as much self-control as she could, she pointedly said, “Sybilla told me you tried to shoot her when you saw her in France.”

Kelly’s heart sank. “No! That’s not the case Inga. I never fired! I couldn’t fire!”

Inga’s face contorted with anguish; her lips worked but no sound came. At last, she said, “I want to believe you, for both of your sakes, but I can’t take the chance. She is very precious to me.” She stood. “That’s my final word.”

Kelly jumped up also, the look on his face revealing his very soul. Inga must have felt sorry for this desperately unhappy man as she grasped his hand in hers and squeezed it tightly. “After you left for Russia, Sybilla told me everything. For a brief precious time, you gave her hope and filled her with joy. She was a different person. Thank you for that.”

Then she left the room.

Kelly moved to the door and stepped into the corridor. Opposite, the reception door was open. Amundsen was clearly visible. Kelly was choked and unable to trust himself to speak. Instead, he wearily waved an arm, moved to the outside door and stepped out into the street.

“Did she really call you that?” asked Raymond laughing and arousing Kelly out of his reverie. He became vaguely aware of Élise relating a tale of their time in the burned cottage in Berques filtering into his subconscious.

He thought quickly. “You mean the mad Irish Serbian?” he asked.

Raymond chuckled and nodded enthusiastically.

“Yes, that’s what she called me. You should have heard what she called the priest, it’s a wonder she hasn’t been excommunicated!” They all laughed and continued with reminiscences and small talk until the crying of a child interrupted them.

Élise looked pleadingly at Raymond who took the hint. Smiling he said, “I will see to Marie, you two talk about old times.” He made his way up the polished wooden staircase.

Élise rose and walked over to Kelly, placed an arm around his neck and kissed him with a passion. “I have never forgotten you, Dan. I often think of you and I still love you. I am so happy now. Raymond is wonderful, but I just wanted you to know that.”

“I have never stopped loving you Élise ...” Kelly began but she placed a finger in his lips.

“I know you still love me, Dan. I can sense it; you don’t have to tell me.” Élise paused for a moment then added. “Have you found her?”

Kelly was startled. “Who …” Kelly began but again she cut him off.

“The Norwegian woman. You knew her, didn’t you?”

Kelly nodded as Élise retrieved her arm from his neck and sat down beside him. He told her the full story. She listened intently, occasionally dabbing her eyes. Kelly concluded, “I love her and can’t get her out of my mind, Élise.” She smiled, kissed him again and moved back to the sofa.

“If anyone can understand, I can.” She said softly, gesturing upstairs. “And now you are searching for her?”

Kelly nodded. “I wondered if there had been any tales about her after the