Web of Secrets 1: Naivity by Elia Mirca

Author:Elia Mirca [Mirca, Elia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Mystery; Thriller & Suspense, Thrillers & Suspense, Spies & Politics, Espionage, Romance, Contemporary, 90 Minutes (44-64 Pages), Thrillers
Amazon: B00BMTU8XC
Published: 2013-02-27T05:00:00+00:00

Eagle

At 6 p.m., I woke up to the barren silence of the apartment. Usually, Daniel called at 7 o'clock, and I waited anxiously for the phone to ring. But 7 o'clock passed, then 7:30, then 8, and still no call. I tried him in Stuttgart, but nobody picked up, then I tried his cell phone but only got his voice mail.

Then it became 9 o'clock, then 9:30. I slumped in front of the TV.and watched whatever was on. It was some mindless cop show called “German Crime Scene.” There were two “police inspectors” spouting loser lines and attempting, although they were older, to look tough. If I were a detective, I would be utterly embarrassed to be played by these two wimps.

At 9:45 p.m., I was really annoyed and switched the TV off. I reached into my purse and found Erich's card. It was impressive, as it read: “Prof. Dr. Erich” and so on. Thick white paper, embossed gold lettering and an emblem up in the left corner. It made quite an impression.

At 9:50 p.m., I dialed the number and Erich picked up the phone. I introduced myself:

“Hello, it's Juliane, we had lunch together today. I'm calling about your invitation for tomorrow.”

“I'm delighted that you called, Juliane. I was certain that you wouldn't forget my invitation, and you're sure to have a wonderful evening.”

We made an appointment for the following day. He was to pick me up at my door at 8 p.m. Only when I hung up did I realize that this could lead to some serious gossip.

‘An older man came to pick up Juliane in a huge luxury car, did you see that, Mrs. Meier?’

I pictured Mrs. Köfer from the first floor, the old gas bag. Her name was actually Köfer-Schmalz, because she had been married to a Mr. Schmalz, but he had run for the hills long ago. No wonder, with that voice of hers. Even worse, at the baker's and hairdresser's she wanted to be addressed as “Headmistress.”

But whining didn't help, I had already accepted the invitation. I could always come home with the subway afterwards. And anyway, Daniel should have at least called. He leaves me here alone and I'm supposed to lock myself up at home, like a nun? He's probably in bed with some bimbo, enjoying his “freedom,” the jerk that he is. Angry and dejected, I got ready for bed.

The following day, I was faithfully back in class, listened to the lecture, took notes and discussed my coursework with the tutor.

By 6 p.m., I was back in my all too silent apartment. It was a quiet place in Cologne. Some people would pay a fortune to be able to live in a peaceful spot like this. Instead, I was griping. Well, the location of the flat was lousy.

As I started to think about the evening out, I felt panic setting in. I was going to such an exclusive place and didn't know what to wear. So I began hectically rummaging through my wardrobe.

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